“Your paths have always ended in your death before you even saw twenty-one years of life.” I went numb. Before age twenty-one…? That was…gods, that was soon. Nyktos stepped forward, partly blocking me. “That’s not going to happen.” “You may be a Primal,”—Holland’s attention shifted to him—“but you are not a Fate.” “Fate can go fuck itself,” Nyktos growled. His skin had thinned, revealing the swirling shadows underneath.
STOP PRETENDING YOU DON'T LOVE HER
