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She shot me. And then she begged for the life of a raccoon.
To all the men and women who have been mistreated or abused: it does not define you.
“I’m amused, little succubus,” he said softly in my ear, “because she is possessive enough of me to fight you. It makes me wonder what twisted little thoughts you have hiding in that mind of yours, and all the things I can do to figure them out.”
“Speak.” My voice turned cold as Death. Stark as Famine. Rageful as War. Unforgiving as Pestilence. The unknown she-demon cocked her head, a flicker of fear entered her heart. It was only an ember, but an ember was all the beast needed.
“Fear is for the weak. It will kill you faster than anything,” she hissed back at me. “A healthy dose of fear means I’ve considered my options,” I pointed out, too pertinent for her liking. “It means you hesitated.” “Without it, we would not know who sent the Seelie after me.” “With it, you could die.”
“Really?” I asked her. Moira flipped me off, too, shrugging her slender shoulders. For fuck’s sake, let’s at least pretend to be grown ass adults.
“Rubies are red, your eyes are blue. Your soul is like fire, I want to burn, too.” Did he just— Oh yes, he did.
I was a friend of death, and a queen of demons, and a slayer of men. I was a girl on fire, and the flames only answered to me.
To strong women who simply can’t be contained, you inspire me.
Broke out? Ha! I whooped their asses and jumped three stories like a boss. Nice way to downplay it, Julian. Real nice.
To the people who stand with you through the hard times… because the best is yet to come.
