Twisted (Never After, #4)

by Emily McIntire

For the people pleasers. Sometimes, it’s okay to be a little selfish.

“It is amazing what women in love will do.” ANONYMOUS, THE ARABIAN NIGHTS

“The girl and everything that comes with her are mine,” I say, my eyes flaring.

That’s what cancer does. It ravages you from the inside out without caring who you are. It doesn’t matter whether you keep the world in the palm of your hand or if you have more money than God. It just feeds on death. And death always wins, one way or another.

It’s rude for him to have a voice like that and a face like he does when his soul is so rotten.

It’s amazing what we’re capable of overlooking— what we’re willing to do— when it comes to those we love.

She’ll be its ruin. She’ll be my ruin. Unless I become the man she marries.

Only now, she’s burned into my brain. And I’m not sure how to get her out.

“If I wished for it,” I murmur, leaning in until our noses touch, “I could make you need nothing but me.”

“My love for you is dangerous.” A heavy breath whooshes from her mouth, a tear rolling from her eye, dripping over the back of my knuckles. I move, pressing a kiss to her wet cheek to soak up her cries. “I would kill anyone who looked at you. Anyone who dared to even breathe too close.” Her body shakes against mine. “I want your blood and your anger and your violence and your lust.” My thumb brushes against her bottom lip. “I want your smiles and your tears and your insolent fucking mouth.”

“I want to reach into your chest and hold your heart in my hands, making sure it only beats for me,” I rasp. “But I don’t want your firsts, Yasmin. I want your forever.”

“I’m in love with you, Julian Faraci. And I would burn the world myself if it meant I could keep you by my side.”