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They may be Kai’s friends, but they aren’t mine.
But you literally just said "Any friend of Kai is a friend of mine"!!
“Let me give you an official tour of your new home.” Though the term “home” makes me want to vomit. A blowjob it may giveth, but a home it does not maketh.
If Nina is an angel, then I will have to be her devil. I will be her darkness, her fighting hand, her killer. Hers.
those that are choosing to remain ignorant of the horrors that plague this world are infinitely more dangerous than the ones who actively seek to inflict harm. They see the evil for what it is, yet still choose to look in the other direction. There’s only so many times they can bury their heads in the sand, though, before the past catches up and suffocates them.
What happened with the guard only solidified what I have always suspected: I’m weak. A liability. No wonder Kai didn’t come back for me. I wouldn’t want to come back for myself.
I really want him to take a running dive off a cliff— Damn. I can’t wish for his death, not when he means so much to Nina. My heart refuses to allow me to continue that thought. I want him to get a nasty, painful sunburn every day for the rest of his life. And he’s not even allowed to put ointment on it. Ha!
“Rion?” I ask tentatively, trailing a step closer. Kai immediately tightens his hold on my hand, keeping me in place. “Rion.” The man snorts dismissively. “Only my mother, family, friends, and strangers call me that. Please, refer to me as Mr. Scruffles.” “Shifter scum...” I hear Kai mumble beneath his breath. “That’s Mr. Shifter Scum to you,” Rion retorts.
Experiencing pain doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human. How you handle yourself after the fact is what makes or breaks you as a person.
There’s a delicate balance between being brave and being stupid. Do you dare to fight when you know the outcome will only be worse for you? Is it strength to accept your fate...or is that weakness?
“You two need to talk and sort out your shit. And please, don’t take that literally. The last thing I need is your shit in color-coordinated boxes.”
