Bound By Vengeance
And yet—gods help me—I could not stop it.
“I hate you,” I whispered finally, the words escaping broken, raw, ripped from the deepest part of me. My chest ached with the force of them. My eyes burned. “I… I hate that I… want… you.”
Silence fell. Heavy. Absolute.
Then his smile came—slow, dark, devastating. A shadow curling across his lips, consuming and inevitable. “Good,” he murmured, voice low, dangerous, tasting like sin. “Hate is honest. Desire is honest. And tonight, you will face both.”
Bab Populer