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I silently laugh. He’s right, but I won’t admit it.

“Because you’re the man to go to for relationship advice.”

“Touché.” He shrugs, not arguing.

“Would you kill him?”

“Who? Damian or Richard?” There are a lot of assholes I’d kill if I had the chance. Godric isn’t exactly out of my sights on that one.

“Richard was his name? That right there should have told you he was a dick.” He shakes his head, and I roll my eyes. He thinks he knows everything.

“Not everyone can have the name Godric,” I emphasize, his ego annoying me.

“Well, not everyone can uphold the responsibility that comes with it,” he responds. I look at him again. His face is emotionless. He really thinks he’s something heroic, doesn’t he?

“I dunno. Maybe. I know I would definitely kill Damian,” My hand on my forehead, eyes cast down, I finally answer, waiting for him to tell me we’re not so different.

Rolling his head to the side, knowing eyes narrow in on me.

“Would you kill me?” he asks. My eyes widen for just a second, my heart skipping a beat. Honestly, yes and no both want to come out. He infuriates me yet intrigues my curiosity.

“I guess you’ll find out,” I reply with a touch of sass. His mouth pulls at the corner until it reaches a full smile. I raise an eyebrow for effect, trying to look menacing. Untucking one of his arms, he reaches for my face, his thumb grazing across the apple of my cheek, and I don’t flinch or tense.

“Stay like that, princess, and you’ll be just fine.” His husky voice wraps around me, breathing hope into my body. He takes his hand away and places it back under his head. I turn onto my side, my eyes skimming down his face, his neck, homing in on a scar in the middle of his chest. I want to ask him how he got it, but then he’ll ask me another question, and I’m done sharing my pathetic past. My eyes start to blink more slowly, darkness and rest rushing down my limbs. No matter how hard I try to stay away, it pulls me under. I finally give up and succumb to my exhaustion.

* * *

Godric

I’m sweaty and uncomfortable. Heaviness around my neck wakes me. I open my eyes to situate myself into a better position, finding Monet laying halfway on top of me. I freeze, the close contact making me tense and my breathing shallow. Her head rests sideways on my chest, her arm thrown over my shoulder, her fingers touching my neck. I haven’t let anyone this close to me in a long time.

Not even Bella.

Forcing myself to relax, I watch her. I can’t help but take note of how peaceful she looks. Raising my arm, I hover my hand just above her face. The desire to touch her burns like an inferno inside my chest. I’ve touched her before, but there’s something about doing it without her knowing that excites me. This gorgeous creature is broken and stumbling through the shadows of life. Just like me.

Murmuring in her sleep, she rolls over, lifting herself from me, her head nuzzling under my armpit. I carefully move to my side and lay my head directly in front of hers. She’s so innocent looking like this, it’s no wonder Damian didn’t want to let her go. She’s a piece of heaven in our fucked-up world. We’re raised on violence and carnage. What’s supposedly normal starts to blur with what’s not. Although Monet has a lot of baggage, she’s more of an angel with dark wings. Then again, the devil was an angel once, so maybe I shouldn’t underestimate her so quickly. She did try to have my brother killed after all.

Brushing a hair from her face, I wonder what dark angels dream about.

The impulsive feeling to grab her by the hair and make her open her eyes and look up at me runs through my veins. I clench my fists closes to control myself. It’s like the closer I get to the gavel, the more aggressive and uncontrollable I become. Closing my eyes, an internal growl vibrates my chest, and I force myself to move away from Monet.

Monet

The smell of food makes my eyes slowly open. My jaw is slack and my lips parted, leaving a wet spot of slobber behind on the sheets. Wiping up the spit with the back of my hand, it hits me that I’m at the Seven Knights clubhouse.

Snapping upright, I look to my left and find the spot empty. Godric is gone. Relief floods my system. I place my hands on my face.

“Knock, knock…” The door opens, and in comes a woman I haven’t seen before. She’s slender and sexy. My hand brushes my hair to the side, insecurities flooding my whole body. Her curly blond hair falls around her face, which is done up perfectly.


Tags: M.N. Forgy Dark