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Brexley Kovacs had my balls wrapped up and locked down from the moment she walked into Halálház. Before I even had a clue what it was like to be inside her.
a shower. I needed a drink. I needed to punch the shit out of something. But most of all, I needed her. My muscles clenched as frustration
wanted to run. I would have run with her. She couldn’t protect me from her. It was too late for that. She had already leveled me.
She marked her way through every fiber, branding herself through me. Which
Her voice was my own siren song, my body obliging her. Locking down my
He didn’t need to say it back. I could feel it surround me, penetrating my soul. I knew how he felt about me. But as our bodies started moving together again, the carriage squeaking in protest, I heard a whisper brush my ear. “Same, Sotet démonom. In every fucking color.”
“You’re mine forever now, Farkas. I’m not setting you free again. We are in this together. We fight together. We die together.
always my own free will. Though the pull to her wasn’t much different from one—lead, follow, or stand beside. I would crawl on my knees or level the world to be anywhere near her. To fight with her, for her, next to her. Protect her at all costs.
Time was a pitiless teacher. And we were gluttonous students. We gobbled it up, wasted it, wished it away, and then got angry when it ran out, stomping our feet like children, declaring someone else to blame. Demanding we were owed more.
I would go too, whether in life, death, or somewhere in between.
I was a pirate. A lord. A poor starving child. A king.
