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Coming this far wasn’t done through pleasantries or being nice. The only reason I get to sit on the throne is because I’ve slaughtered everyone who looks at it, let alone dares to approach it.
Aurora Harper sold her soul to the devil. It goes without saying that she’ll never be able to escape me.
If the fucker who attacked her today — which I assume is the same person who stabbed her eleven years ago — thinks he can escape me, he has no idea who he’s up against. He can fool fate itself, but he can never fool me. I’ll find the scum who did this to her, and I’ll enjoy ending his life in the slowest way possible.
“May I ask what you intend to do with this man once you find him?” “Make him wish he was never alive.” Because no one, and I mean no-fucking-one, touches what’s mine and lives.
“What if I disappear?” “Then I’ll burn the world that forced you to disappear and resurrect you from its ashes.” “You…will?” “You think I’m not able to?”
“You don’t seem to understand what it means to be mine. It’s not only about how you belong to me, or that I’ll cut off the dick of any bastard who looks your way and shove it up his arse. It’s also about how I’ll protect you from the world and yourself if I have to. It’s about burning your obstacles so you can leave the shadows and shine like you were always meant to. You can provoke or test me or even give me that fucking attitude, but you do not get to run away from me.”
He might be a tyrant, but he’s the best to ever exist.
That isn’t the problem, though. The problem is that I want her to be different when I never wished for it in my entire existence.
But how the fuck can I let go of the piece of myself I finally found?
