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

I lunged. I didn’t care that he was still armed.Didn’t care if I died right there.I wanted to kill him. With my hands. Rip him apart, skin to bone. But he backed away. “I just wanted you to choose me,” he whispered again, weaker this time. “I CHOSE HIM!” I screamed. And I meant it. With every shattered cell of my being. “I chose him. I chose our son. Not you!” The door behind me burst open. Heavy boots.

I sob, pressing hard on his chest, blood pouring out like a river. "B-because life without you doesn't make sense, sweetheart," he whispers, struggling to breathe. "Don’t cry, please," he murmurs, lifting a trembling hand to brush my cheek. "It’s a father’s duty to protect his children... and the woman he loves. One day, you'll tell our kids their father regretted everything and gave his life for them." "You shouldn't have done this! You can’t die, do you hear me, Nathan? You have to promise me—because if you die, I won’t be able to hate you the way I want to!" I shout through my tears.

“No. Your mum doesn’t know. Sage. When I was with Felicity, a baby was never what I had planned in the mix. And I never truly loved her. When I found your mother, I knew I had to make a choice or lose the only woman I love forever. I had to choose the woman I love, Sage. I chose our family, and I love you. Yes, I was selfish. Selfish enough to choose your mother because I couldn’t bear to live without her. And I was scared she was going to leave me. That’s why I kept it a secret. I’m sorry, princess.” My body shook from the intensity of my emotions. I didn’t realize Kaid had a supportive hand on my back, anchoring me in place. In a hoarse voice, I looked up at him and shook my head. “Why did

he said, low enough that it felt like confession, “I didn’t choose love. I chose war. And you walked into both with your head high.” I swallowed—not from fear, but recognition. “And you,” I whispered, “didn’t crown me by blood. You crowned me by standing beside me when you could have walked ahead.” His mouth tilted. Razor and reverence. “Then let’s give them a dynasty they choke on.” So we kissed again, slower this time—not the calm before the storm, but the promise in the eye of it. Because people think love makes you weak in war. They’ve never seen what love makes you willing to destroy.

“Do not trust what is felt, only what is given. That which is freely given is the true nature of the giver, the true nature of a choice.” Was that for him? Hunter wondered. “Even now you choose!” she screamed and drove her saber deeper, as if to push through him. Poe grunted but did not flinch or falter as he tightened his embrace. Master Poe’s cough, wet and phlegmy, was the only indication of the mortal pain he endured. “My choice,” he said after the coughing fit was over. “What of love? What of duty?” she whispered. The tears that flowed from Poe’s eyes were not of sadness. “It is all for love.”

“No, my love. I am precise. Calculated. Necessary. The world does not survive on kindness alone.” Tears blurred her vision. “You killed them! Here! In this apartment! They were… they were…” Her voice broke. “They were just like me!” He tilted his head, studying her as one might study a fragile, fragile piece of glass. “They were… inconvenient. Weak. Choices must be made. And yes, I was the one who made them. But you…” He leaned in slightly, his voice a whisper now, cold and sharp. “You are different. Stronger. Compliant. Observant. That is why you survive.”

A choice. I looked at Rourke, and I saw him for what he was: not a monster, not a villain. Just a man who'd lost his brother, who'd let grief twist into hate, who'd chosen destruction over healing. "I'm not going to kill you," I said. His eyes widened. "What?" "I'm not going to kill you. Because killing you won't break the bond. Killing you won't bring anyone back. Killing you will just make more grief, more hate, more war." I stepped back, my claws leaving his throat. "I'm choosing something else."

“After everything I did… after I drove you to this very edge… You choose me?” Tears glistened in her lunar-white eyes, but they were not the tears of pain I had caused before. These were different healing, fierce, chosen. She pressed her forehead to mine, her breath warm against my lips. “I choose the man who executed Genevieve with his own jaws. The man who scrubbed floors and bled in my gardens and slept on cold stone just to prove his love was real. The man who threw himself in front of a poisoned blade for our son and me. That man… I choose him every day from now until the moon burns out.”

"He was a shareholder. An important one. What does this even mean for us? For me? They’re going to come after us." He dismissed it with a wave of his hand, like swatting a fly. "Antonio was a peasant. He was nothing. Don't worry about it. Let them come." I wanted to fight him on it. I wanted to tell him that people were more than just obstacles he could remove when they annoyed him, but the words died in my throat. I remembered who he was. I remembered my father. My brother. At the end of the day, I was lying in bed with the man who had systematically destroyed my world. He was a killer. He’d always be a killer. And the most fucked up part? I knew that, and I still chose to stay. I chose to

he completed when he was standing just inches away from me. Grabbing my chin in a tight grip he said," Onika, Onika, what should I do with you, Love? You ask me to kill you, if only I was feeling that merciful today, because believe me after I am done with you death will be a sweet pleasure...and mark my words if you tried to end your life I will not spare any one you love they all will die a fate even worse then yours." I looked him in the eyes, holding his gaze this time. He will kill every one I have ever loved? If only he knew it was just him I had ever actually loved. My family is already dead. It was just him. Only him.