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February 13 - February 23, 2024
Because slaying your real life demons is often frowned upon.
“Your eyes keep changing colors.” “Trick of the lighting. Who are you here with?” “Why?” I ask, poking him in the chest. “Jealous?”
Pausing, he adjusts the collar of his suit jacket, revealing the small pomegranate tattoo on his wrist. I cock a brow at the ink, aware of the Hades and Persephone dynamic he and his wife indulge, but don’t question it.
“Hey, man,” the frat boy complains, his eyebrows drawing in as he turns with her. “We were having a conversation, dickhead.” “And now you’re not. Find someone else’s girlfriend to snog before I beat seven shades of shit out of you.”
“Well, I think it’s safe to say we don’t have to worry about holidays at my house. Hopefully your parents are more welcoming.” “My parents are dead.”
“Oh, god, did you kill the owner?” “Why? Afraid of ghosts?” “Not afraid. I just happen to think they shouldn’t be disturbed.”
“Don’t worry, though,” I rush out, needing to fill the silence all of a sudden. “She didn’t die here, or anything.”
“Do you often paint in the nude?” “Yes. I find clothes restricting.”
“Do you have hobbies, Jonas?” The question catches me off guard. “Ah… woodworking? Homebrewing, though I haven’t done that in a while.” Murder?
It clicks, finally: Elena Anderson, wife of the notorious doctor who owns part of Aplana Island.
If darkness wants in, it’ll find a way.
Wild Socialite Settles Down with Outlaw: Aplana’s Very Own Romeo and Juliet.
“Any suggestions for dealing with your family?” “I’d say be yourself, but they kind of hate you.”
“Yikes. You live on an island outside the Boston Harbor, and you’re allergic to shellfish?” “Quite the conundrum, I know.”
“You’re fucking crazy,” he spits, a tear gliding down to mix with his blood. “And you’d do well to remember it.”
“Preston’s not any less dangerous. Jonas is just more vocal about it.”
“Y-you can’t.” I pause, forcing a swallow over the ball of nerves in my throat. “Get naked, I mean.” “If you are, why can’t I?” “We can’t both be naked.”
“Good girls don’t speak with their mouths full.”
A Trojan horse, if ever there was one.
“I thought you were hungry,” I whisper, too afraid to speak any louder and let my nerves show. “Oh, I am.”
His brows shoot into his hairline, offense etching itself into his forehead. “Gone down on you before?” “Preston said it was weird.” I shrug, trying to play it off. “He said it was weird?”
“The real question is, can you take it?” A ripple travels down her throat as she swallows. “Your ego?” “No.”
“Are you okay?” “Dead,” she mutters, still not moving. “You killed me. Congratulations.”
“Well, that sort of explains the bars. Though I don’t understand why they’re inside.” “To keep me from escaping.” Mileena’s brown eyes widen, and I force a laugh, realizing too late what I’ve said. “Ah, no, sorry. That was a joke.”
ready to once again shoot first and ask questions never.
Hades and Persephone themselves gracing humanity.
“Oh, my god! I knew it!” Elena jabs a finger in my direction. “It freaked her out because you were never really engaged. I fucking told you. Kallum, you owe me twenty dollars.”
“I thought you might want to decide how he dies,” he says, and my heart swells ten times. That shouldn’t be romantic, but goddamn. The man just gets me.
Things between us aren’t what she was probably hoping for, but I am trying, at least. It’s more than I think she deserves, but I’m limited on family.
Devastatingly alluring and completely terrifying, Lenny Primrose (soon to be Wolfe) could easily start another war in her lifetime. And I would be at the helm of the very first ship, leading the charge into battle. Simply because she’s mine.
