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The dark had never scared me the way it scared my friends and family. There was something…welcoming about it.
Anesidora and the Goddess of Night hated one another, that was common knowledge for both agathos and daimons. Surely, there was no way our souls could be tied together without cooperation from both of them? It couldn’t be done. Whatever this connection was…it wasn’t a soul bond. What scared me most was how little that bothered me.
The reaction I was having to hearing her describe a process happening with hypothetical dudes was fucking irrational. Whatever this thing was that was tying us together, Grace was never going to have agathos soul bonds. I’d make sure of it. I’d kill them before they got to her.
She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully like she was coming up with more things, totally oblivious to the way she’d just put me under her spell. There was something happening to me. There was an unfamiliar, fluttery feeling in my stomach, while at the same time my chest tightened and my brain turned to mush. It was bizarre and addictive at the same time. She was just so…kind. And entirely unaware of how sweet she was. I mean, the peanut butter thing wasn’t ideal, but no one was perfect.
“You think about it while I make some popcorn then.” Fuck the consequences. I was going to keep her.
“Most daimons are descendents of the Moros line,” Riot continued in a monotone voice, not looking at me. “The Keres are the next most common. They like violence. The Philotes are rarer even though their thing is fucking. The Oneiroi are almost extinct. They do mystical dream shit. There are others, but those are the ones I’m most familiar with.”

