His Choice To Love, His Kin To Kill Novels & Stories

I asked Without hesitation, “I do," he answered I let out my breath, placing the file back on the desk. “You’re aware of the conflict," I said “I am," he said “And you still think this is a good idea." I said, thinking about what this task might involve “I do," he said “Why?” I asked him He did not answer; instead, he stood and walked toward the window, dipping his hands in his pockets. “You walked away from a marriage most people would have held onto,” he said finally.

"Hid yourself away? Abandoned the pack defenselessly? Refused us the right to struggle for our future?" She was moving toward the heart of the grove, her step even and deliberate. "Marcus made his choice. He believed Thomas was in danger, and he made a choice to act. He did not seek consent, did not weigh odds, did not decide if his life was of lesser or greater value to him or anyone's else. He simply chose love."

Leaving only the burn marks where her kiss had branded me. I whispered into the silence, voice breaking “Rory, come back to me.” No answer. Only shadow. Only ache. Only a single burning question ringing like fate: When she chooses… will she save me or kill me? Why does liking him feel like killing him? I used to believe love healed. Now I know love can break bones. Love can cut deep. Love can pull blood from the heart and call it dedication. I never meant to hurt him. Not with my power. Not with my kiss.

"It wasn’t enough that his birthright was stolen. That his younger brother was introduced to outsiders as the first son. It didn't matter that he never had a thing to call his own. His only love was stolen from him and given to another. That was his breaking point. He would no longer be the weak boy who remained silent and let them steal everything from him. He was done taking their shit and he was ready to reclaim everything that had been stolen from him. First, he killed his parents. Their gifts and power couldn't save them. He tortured them for days and finally, he killed them, slitting their throats with a sliver knife, and leaving their bodies for rogues to feast on" My stomach turned i

Even now, I can’t help coming back to him. “I’ve done what I’ve done. I’m not proud of it all, but I’ve done it. I’ve killed, Ava. And yet I’ve only ever killed because I thought it was right.” He steps closer, pressing his chest to the front of that gun as I gasp at his madness. “And if killing me, mi Valienta, is what you think is right, then do it. Let it be you. Let it be love.” His eyes are still fixed on mine, boring all his emotion into my soul. I could stay like this, falling into the thick sea of grey, and I would thank God to be falling as long as it was into him.

“You’ll kill him.” The world holds its breath. Kael turns back to the Throne. Steps forward. And I— I don’t know if I can do it. Because this isn’t a choice between light and shadow. It’s a choice between love and everything else. And I’m not sure which will break me more. The Throne shifts. It blooms open like the jaws of some ancient predator, waiting to swallow its rightful heir. Kael reaches out— and I scream his name like it’s the last truth I have left.

* Expressionless, Killian snapped Dad's neck. Two elderly corpses lay on the expensive carpet, blood pooling around them. Killian stood between the bodies, gasping for air. His gaze shifted from confusion to shock, and finally to utter dead silence. He looked at his hands and suddenly let out a laugh that made my blood run cold: "Hahahaha..." "Is this love?" "Love is a weakness! Love is death!" "I don't need this! No one gets close to me ever again!" [Player Keal: Deceased.]

I beseech. “I’m not afraid of you,” he snarls, “But I will take great pleasure in killing you,” he says in a low, maniacal voice. I don’t feel a single lie in what he’s saying, which tells me even if we did manage to teach him to control his hunger, he’d still go around killing people. He doesn’t kill out of instinct, he kills out of choice, and there’s no cure for that. “Then you leave me no choice,” I say mournfully as I place the daggers back in my belt and draw the katana from its scabbard.

“You’re not gods. You don’t get to decide who dies and who lives.” “We didn’t decide,” Sarah said. “It was bound to happen.” I spun around. “Why Kaidon? Why not punish someone else?” “Because it must be one of his kind who destroys him. And because he’s the one who shed innocent blood,” Mr. Clark said. “She’s in love with him!” I shouted. “She loves him! You’re trying to make her kill the man she loves!” “That’s the beauty of it,” Sarah said with a twisted smile. “Love makes the destruction deeper.”

Nathan's gaze darkened as he looked at me, his voice filled with disappointment. "Tegan, I never thought you'd be this kind of person. I'm the one who found the kidney donors. You don't get to make that decision!" I couldn't help but find it ridiculous. This was the man who had been with me for eight years, the man who had once said he loved me more than life itself. My expression turned cold, and for the first time, I spoke to Nathan with complete indifference. "She cries, and suddenly everything's my fault? Are you her fiancé or mine? Nathan, get this straight. She wants both kidneys! Who's really the one trying to kill someone here?"