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Today is my 18th birthday and every Darling woman that has come before me has disappeared on this day. Some are gone a day, others a week or a month. But they always return broken, with varying degrees of sanity intact.
We don’t fuck the Darlings because fucking Darlings is what got us into this mess. We don’t fuck the Darlings. We just break them.
It’s all fun and games until they notice your fault lines, until they pry them open and peer inside.
She needs to know…there are no white knights here. Just monsters. And I am the worst one.
“Even the mighty oak believes she is strong until a man comes along with an ax to chop her down.”
“All men are born with an ax in their hands, Darling. To take the measure of a man, you just have to pay attention to how he wields it.”
I can’t believe I’m in my backyard with two fae princes, a myth, and a shadow of death burying bodies six feet in the ground.
