I knew everything that Hunter Radcliffe was. He was savage. He was ruthless. He was hateful. He was arrogant. He was sooo stupid. And he most definitely is not loving. Not that misogynistic airheaded fuck who thought feminists all wanted to grow a pair of nuts literally. And I didn't care whatever signs the Moon goddess showed him. If he wanted me for a mate, he was. going to be making love to my cold dead corpse before I ever let. him lay a single hand on me ever.

What makes me come here every night?What exactly do I want from her?She's not anything special from what I see and yet every night I find myself outside her window.Always watching and waiting and watching some more.Is there something wrong with me?Or maybe she's a witch and put a hex on me to ensure I keep coming back.The temptation I face now is far more complex than the fleeting pleasures I have sought for the last 200 years. I need to be near her at all times and yet my duties only allow me a few hours every night.I want to own her down to her soul so I can protect her from the sorrows she faces no matter how small or big. And yet the danger that I put her in simply by being close to her is something I always have in my mind and pray that she is never exposed to and yet my selfish nature keeps me coming back.Night after night, after night after night.My new favorite smell is weed and lavender mixed with a hint of cocoa. The smell of her.