Shadowfever (Fever #5)

by Karen Marie Moning

Not once did I permit myself to feel any hope about the person lying facedown in a pool of blood. Not once did I use it to strengthen our bond. I let the onus of our relationship rest on broader shoulders. Fear. Suspicion. Mistrust drove my every action. And now it’s too late to take any of it back.

Girl stand up are you kidding me

I overreacted. And now he’s dead. I stare at the dirk. Killing myself would be a reward. I deserve only punishment.

Oh my godddd shut upppppp

Jack and Rainey Lane are not with them. That would disturb me, except the Mac who loves her parents was in those pieces I left behind with Barrons’ body. Barrons is dead. It’s my fault. I have no parents. No love. No weaknesses. There’s not a single shaft of sunshine in my soul.

A guy who was a total prick to you and literally raped you is dead and therefore you no longer care if your parents are alive, okay

“Step out of the circle. I have your parents and will kill them if you don’t obey me.” “I don’t care.” I scoff. He stares. He heard the truth in my words. I don’t care.

Boo hoo the rapist asshole I'm in love with is dead so now idc if my parents die

It takes a lot to make a man kill a beautiful woman he has not yet slept with. Especially if he enjoyed her sister.

??????????

Back in high school, I began to suspect I was bipolar. There were times when, for no good reason at all, I felt downright, well … homicidal was the only word for it.

Weird how there hasn't been a single mention or hint at this until the fifth and final book when it's needed to conveniently explain a complete 180 in personality

Here I sit in the abbey’s dining hall, in the middle of this brainless feckin’ herd of sidhe-sheep that are so easily led they should wear feckin’ halters and waggle fluffy sheep asses,

I really don't like this :')

Long as she doesn’t try any funky lezbo stuff on me, I don’t mind sharing my spot.

I hate this child

I just watched a hundred of my sisters—so what if they’re sheep? They’re still my sisters—get butchered. And this old woman stands and glares at me?

Where is the devastation? The trauma? 100 women have died and but deaths just don't matter in this series

That bipolar feeling from my high school days is back with a vengeance. He’s everything I despise. I want to kill him so badly that I have to keep my hands in my pockets, balled into fists.

Not what bipolar disorder is

BWC—before the walls crashed.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

One minute I can’t wait to grow up and have sex; the next I hate people, and men are people; and, dude—isn’t semen about the most disgusting thing you ever seen? Like, eew, who wants some dude to squirt snot in their mouth?

Why did she write this 13 year old girl to be constantly thinking about sex every time she's on page

Late in the afternoon, I color my hair, blow it dry, and style it into a tousle of big, loose curls. I’m blond again.

Yeah there's no way you went from deep brown to blonde at home (during the apocalypse) without utterly fucking it up

I understand now why Barrons was always insisting I stop asking him questions and judge him by his actions alone. It’s so easy to lie.

Bro what is this rationalization

Damn it! When would I learn?

We're 5 books deep so it's looking like never

Your little MacKeltar doesn’t have the balls to own his actions. He certainly isn’t capable of doing what it takes to own a woman!”

This is the love interest I'm sobbing

How could anything be bothering me? My world was blue skies all the way, despite Dublin’s constant rain. How could I not be blissfully happy at this moment? It was a good day.

It's the apocalypse... 3 billion+ people are dead...

But deep down, underneath it all, I was working up a major temper and feeling … stupid. Like I’d leapt to conclusions that didn’t hold water.

Oh no kidding?

“Sidhe-seers: watchdogs for the U.K.,” he mocked.

SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY

Since I’d last been here, someone had hired a decorator and replaced the tall wood doors with new ones that were black and glossy, the height of urban chic, so highly polished that I could see the couple who’d followed us down reflected in them.

It is the apocalypse w 1/3 of the global population gone, who is manufacturing custom doors

If you want a war with me, you’ll get one. Just try me. Give me an excuse to go play in that dark place inside my head.”

You are not badass this is so cringe

Dude, everybody’s everything’s gonna be hanging out, and some o’ those fat chicks at the abbey are gonna gross my eyeballs right outta my head. Muffin tops and camel toes, gah!”

I fucking hate this book

He was dead. Again.

Third time's the charm right

leaving me burdened with an intense dislike of the cold and a vague sense of bipolarity I was finally beginning to understand.

I am incredibly tired of bipolar being used incorrectly so often

It was on the tip of my tongue to apologize, but I was more pragmatic than I used to be and I was getting tired of being blamed for things.

You literally abandoned him lmfao this is your fault

“Got eyes, BG, use them.” “Got a mouth, DEG, use it.”

Here I am, standing on a cliff. Asking to be pushed to my death.

I was wearing distressed black leather pants with a tattooed gray grunge element and my favorite baby-doll pink tee that said I’m a JUICY girl across the front and had chiffon cap sleeves. I’d tied a Goth scarf around my blond curls and had on a pair of Alina’s dangling heart earrings. My fingernails had grown out and I’d done a French manicure on my hands, but I’d painted my toenails black. The dichotomy didn’t end there. I had on a black lace thong and a pink-and-white-striped cotton bra.

Is this her worst fit yet?

But the entire time I’d been lost in sexual bliss, he’d been aware of time passing, of everything that was happening—that I was mindless, I wasn’t willing, and when I snapped out of it I’d blame him.

Yeah..... so rape

“During a blackout, people do what they’ve wanted to do all along but have repressed, afraid of the consequences.

Be so for fucking real right now

“I want the woman I think you are. But the longer you dissemble, the more I think I made a mistake. Saw things in you that weren’t there.”

"Hey so like I know you just found out your best friend murdered your sister, but you haven't had sex with me after regaining your ability to consent (remember all those times we had sex when you couldn't consent?). If you don't have sex with me ASAP you're not the woman I thought you were and I'm gonna bounce."

Barrons has been predictable in his treatment of me since the day I met him. Initially he used references to sex to shut me up. Then he used sex to wake me up. After I was no longer Pri-ya, he’d returned to using references to sex to keep me on edge. Forcing me to remember how intimate we once were.

And do you see how this behavior is appalling

Being Pri-ya was worse than being raped by the princes. It had been hundreds of rapes over and over again. My body had wanted. My mind had been vacant. Yet some part of the essential me had still been there, fully aware that my body was completely out of my control. That I wasn’t choosing. All my choices had been made for me. Sex should be a choice.

OKAY???????? YES SO WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE????

No one had ever taken so many pictures of me before. Not even Alina. He’d caught my subtlest emotions in each shot. He’d been watching me, always watching me.

Fucking creep shit fr

But it was too late. I’d been a fool.

No shit

He kicks off his boots, steps out of his pants. He’s commando tonight.

Bro ewwwww nasty weirdo

“Wait.” His demeanor changes instantly, his eyes haze with crimson. “I haven’t waited long enough?” His chest rattles. His hands are at his sides, curling, flexing. He breathes hard and fast. In the flickering light, his skin begins to darken. I stare at him. Just like that, lust to fury. I think he might launch himself on me, take me down, shredding my clothes as we go, and shove inside me before we even hit the floor. “I’d never take it.” His eyes narrow. Crimson stains the white, bleeds into them with tiny rivers. Suddenly his eyes are black on red, no whites at all. “But I won’t tell you I haven’t thought about it.”

Once a rapist always a rapist

He peels a mango

That's not how mangoes are eaten

Hope. Jericho Barrons had hope, and I was the reason for it. Yes, I lied. I got it.

Lmfaooooo why

“You raped me!” “I saved you, MacKayla.” “Saving me would have been getting me out of there!” “You were already Pri-ya when I found you. Your life was ending. I gave you my elixir—” “Your elixir?” the king said mildly. “—to stem your wounds.” “You didn’t have to have sex with me to do it!” “I desired you. You refused me. I wearied of your protests. You wanted me. You thought about it. You were not even there. What difference?” “You think that makes it okay?”

Genuinely, GENUINELY, how is this different from what Barrons did? How is Barrons not framed the same way?

It was like watching a man and a woman fight, where the man was simply trying to keep the woman from hurting herself too much.

I fucking despise this series