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A dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead.
“Fascinating. You look all frail and breakable, but you’re really a violent little thing, aren’t you?”
There’s a tug at my thigh and another of my daggers is pressed to my throat as his chest rests against the back of my head.
This is hot.
“I just need to know what my chances are here.” My hands curl into fists. The ass has the nerve to smile. “That’s the oddest way I’ve ever been hit on—” “Not my chances with you, you conceited prick!”
I think im in love
“The right way isn’t the only way. Figure it out.” Then he turns and walks away. Fuck. Him.
Girly pop. Hes trying to help you dont be rude
“Ask me nicely, Violence,”
“Everything when it comes to you.”
Everything *insert smirk emoji*
“Maybe it was when I saw Oren holding a knife to your throat,” he says. “Or maybe it was when I realized the bruises
on your neck were fingerprints and wanted to kill them all over again just so I could do it slowly. Maybe it was the first time I recklessly kissed you or when I realized I’m fucked because I can’t stop thinking about doing more than just kissing you.”
How romantic
“Fuck, that’s hotter than it should be.”
There’s nowhere in existence you could go that I wouldn’t find you, Violence.”
“There’s only you, Violence. Is that what you needed to hear?”
Im actually gonna vomit i love this
