donila

“animal with her hair blowing behind her. It was simultaneously inhuman and intoxicating. Seth didn’t want to fight it anymore. He kissed her. It wasn’t like their first kiss when Jericho attacked the summer camp, which had been brief and hurried. His lips fell on hers, and they both paused—waiting, probably, to see if one of them would draw back. She reached up and laid her fingers on the back of his neck. That small gesture was enough. His lips parted, and then they were kissing, really kissing. She tasted like blood. He didn’t care. When they parted, she was smiling. He smiled back. A voice spoke from behind them. “So that’s how it is.” Eleanor. Seth moved to conceal Rylie, but his mom lifted her hands in the universal gesture of peace. She looked terrible. It was like she had aged a decade overnight. Deep lines scored the sides of her mouth and between her eyebrows. He couldn’t see a gun, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. “What do you want?” Rylie growled. “This isn’t worth it, Seth,” Eleanor said. “Let’s go. We’ll leave her alone. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” She looked defeated. He had never seen his mother like that. “Where’s Abel?” “He’s packing,” she said stiffly. “For what?” “He says…” She cleared his throat. “He doesn’t like what I’ve done. He thinks it’s time to go out on his own. So it’s time for you and me to go.” She thought Seth would go with her? The idea was ridiculous. He might have been seventeen, but he wasn’t an idiot. “Would you have shot me?” Seth asked. A muscle in her jaw twitched. “You’re my baby. I would never shoot you.” He couldn’t tell if she was lying or not. “I’m not going with you. I’m done fighting Dad’s battles.” She stiffened.”
― S.M. Reine, All Hallows' Moon