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It became clear to me in that moment that Mr. Banks would pull out no second ring. There would be no exchange of vows, either. Just a single vow. A single ring. A single leash.
This type of society is almost sickening
Yeah, well, life is hard whatever you do.
Preach it sister.
"It's called life," he replied dryly. "Things lose their shine when you get too close to them."
"I feel like there's something you're not telling me, Violet," he muttered as we turned the corner. I feel like there is, too.
AHH the interest in each other is driving me nutssss
In the end, there was only one thing I could conclude: Maybe I'm not the only one losing focus.
"What is the actual meaning of your crescent symbol?" Viggo followed my gaze and joined me in eyeing the city. "It symbolizes strength and potential. Growth, like the waxing moon."
Having both been victims of the law in our countries, I supposed we were more vulnerable to wondering. Grief did that to you. It made you wish for a life that wasn't yours. It made you dream.
But the second I stepped out of the bathroom, a heavy fist flew at me from nowhere and caught me square in the face. I reeled, pain searing through my nose. Stars circled before my eyes. Before I could attempt to defend myself, a heavy weight was flung at me, knocking me from my feet and pinning me facedown against the floor. As I tried to yell, a hand clamped around my mouth, and then a second hand, lined with some kind of pungent-smelling tissue, folded around my nose. My brain became foggy. I could no longer struggle. And then all went black.
PLOT TWIST
desperation had a way of making you find strength you thought you'd lost.
"If you're not going to talk, then I need to take you—" Viggo's voice trailed off as I closed the small distance between us. My arms
acted of their own accord as they wound around his neck and shoulders. Then they were pulling me upward, closer, until I was standing on my tiptoes. My brows furrowed, my eyelids shut… and then my lips were on his. Heat rolled through my body. His lips were firm. Voluminous. Lips that cushioned mine in a way that made me want to take them in my mouth one at a time, experience their fullness slowly, thoroughly. Lips that could engulf mine if he responded. But I didn't expect him to respond. He had frozen, arms stiff at his sides, every muscle beneath his bare shoulders and chest tensed against
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From this moment on, like Lee Desmond Bertrand, I had to be a player of my own rules. No longer a pawn in someone's game.
