“It’s like that scene in The Lion King,” Rafe murmurs into the collar of his shirt, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Whatever the light touches is your kingdom now, or something like that. It’s all yours, bro.” I look down at my supposed kingdom. The creaky port on the left and the small town nestled into the dip of the cliff to the right. Then I turn to look further down the coast, to the darkness of Devil’s Hollow and then to Devil’s Cove, which, even through the mist and rain, is lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. “I don’t want it.” The words slip from my tongue like I knew they
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