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“You always have a choice.” But did I really believe that? To myself, I muttered, “You just have to be willing to fight for it.”
“Fear is not weakness. It reminds us that we are human—with limitations. We are not gods. But, instead of hiding our fear, what if we faced it? For in facing what makes us afraid, we become stronger.”
“I think,” he said, low and soft, “there’s a whole lot more to you than fists and sarcasm. And I think I’m going to enjoy getting to know the real you.” My heart blipped to a halt. Oh crap.
“They don’t know what to make of me because I don’t think like they do. And I avoid them because I know all too well who they are.”
Chew on that, pretty boy.
“And I think a person should never be ashamed of their scars. Wear them with pride.”
“Soooo, see anything you like?” I droned. “Yes.” When I looked to see where his gaze was, I about leapt out of my skin. He was looking at . . . me.
“Num acquired me tu es, paulo avis. Non possum resisters dolorem in te videre.”
“You’re the devil,” Bren muttered. But he obeyed, muscles bunching as he waded toward me. “Thank you.” I dipped into a mock curtsy. “It’s what all trainers aspire to be.”
Eleven years of suppressed emotion sprang free. I exploded, screamed my pain right at his face. “Because it was me!”
A choked sob burst from my throat, the sound of infinite heartache.
My soul was bared as I finally unearthed the t...
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“I’m the girl who haunts you, Bren. The girl you tricked and betrayed. You sold me out to the Recruiter Clan and I never saw my mother again. I’ve been stuck in ...
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His hands began to shake and he snatched them back as if I were fire. No, as if I...
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We had come full circle in this game of lies and bitterness, betrayal and revenge.
This moment might forever break us apart and I internally wailed. I didn’t want it to end like this. I didn’t want it to end at all.
A nasty little voice jeered in my ear. You are ugly. You are damaged. You are weak. You aren’t good enough. You’re a failure.
Your scars are beautiful. You are beautiful, and not just on the outside. Your scars have made you strong—so strong. And that’s what I see. Strength.”
That was asking a lot, especially now that he had made a secret deal with the devil.
“You always have a choice,” he whispered. “You just have to be willing to fight for it.”
“I want to change things for good. But sometimes, for things to get better, they first have to get worse.”
