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Published June 27, 2025
Time stands frozen, the clock on the wall broken. But even the clock is still right twice a day.
She's a fucking powerhouse, bringing even the most broken, lost souls to salvation.
I've had a target on my back since day one, and despite it all, some people here would still love to watch me go down in flames.
If God exists, he must be sick. Who would send a divine creature like her into the Devil's lair? And now she's stuck with me.
If anyone lays a single finger on her, bruising her perfect skin, I'll soak them in gasoline and make a bonfire.
She's mine and right now, that's all that matters. I'll kill anyone who takes this from me. They will never touch her again. They'll never take her away.
She looks fucking perfect. It makes me want to rip her into tiny pieces just so I can put her back together again.
"You tear me apart from the inside out in the best fucking ways possible. You make me kill for you, you make me want to die for you. I'll burn this whole place down to ashes and paint you with them like the muse you are."
"When you go to heaven one day, I'll drag you back down to hell to join me. Because I'm never leaving you, Avery."
I love seeing the effect I have on people. Who needs violence to control people when you can control their minds and emotions?
Cirque des Morts. My Circus of the Dead. That's what we are here—dead. Dead to society, dead inside.
She's everything I hate—annoying, unpredictable, overly trusting. But also caring, thoughtful, receptive. Most people here respect me out of fear. They are loyal to reap the benefits. Not her though.
"Right," I draw out slowly. "And is he the reason you're avoiding me?"
"No, he's not," she mutters. "But I assumed you'd be mad."
"You're a grown woman. You can make your own choices. Why are you avoiding me?"
"I can't tell you," Avery answers. "But it's for the best."
"You love her," he laughs incredulously, shaking his head. "I should have known."
"I did," I correct him.
"No, you still love her," he points out, opening the door and peering out into the quiet hallway. "Don't mistake me for a fool, Grey. You're smarter than that."
"Damon," he snaps. "Do you like her?"
"I don't know," I grumble. "I tolerate her. But perhaps she's growing on me. She's shown us great loyalty recently."