Elara
I can’t get that girl’s image out of my mind. The unnatural way her neck was arched or her eyes, dull and lifeless, staring into nothing. I didn’t even get the chance to close her eyelids. Just when I think Cassian can’t possibly surprise me with more cruelty, he proves me wrong.
It makes me sick to know that I can have any kind of reaction toward him that isn’t repulsion. I want to scream every time I remember how my body leaned into his, how it pressed against him, and how my lips parted, letting him taste more of me than he ever should have. And I want to scream even louder when I think of how those memories have kept my mind in chaos.
I shouldn’t be thinking about it—it’s obvious he doesn’t. Who am I kidding? The whole way here, every brush of his hand or his body against mine
