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“So Bern and Leon get their picks, and I get the leftovers,” Arabella called over her shoulder. “Yep.” I nodded. “You’re the youngest.”
Aw poor babygirl i feel you arabella
Slender, white, with covered balconies on the top two levels and a sundeck on the roof, it had a clear vacation vibe. A narrow breezeway connected its third-floor balcony to the main house. Of all the places on the property, it was the newest and required the least amount of work to be habitable.
Ok i take it back hahaha that gorgeous
had this fear. It lived deep inside me like a small animal with sharp claws that had burrowed into my soul
there would be a diplomatic explosion of international proportions.
As your cousin-brother, I feel compelled to point out the utter fuckedupness of this situation,” Leon said as I took the turn onto the side road.
“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t use that term.” “Fuckedupness?” “Cousin-brother. Pick one, not both.”
and this time, it wasn’t my Tremaine voice. It was me, Prime Baylor, the Acting Warden. “This is my territory.
Our father carried the biomarkers for four sets of magic: the truthseeker from his mother, the siren and hephaestus talents from his father, and the Beast of Cologne metamorphosis from the surrogate in whose womb he grew. Feto-maternal microchimerism was the reason for Arabella’s powers.
House Sanders were holos-metamorphs. Once they changed shape, only the prey drive remained. They locked on a target as if their life depended on it, pursued their prey with single-minded ferocity, and didn’t stop until they ripped them apart.
Ok but why is that allowed?!
