Alaric
Still, there was no point crying about it now. There never was.
Just like the first time I faced a wild boar at seven years old, when the beast charged at me and I had no one but myself to rely on. I had learned early that survival demanded brutality. It was simple, really. You kill, or you die. You adapt, or you break.
So I would do what I had always done: whatever I had to.
Even if it meant manipulating the one woman who was supposed to be the most important person in my life.
Because, after all, even if she didn’t know it yet, Kelly held the key to my life and my death.
But she would never know. I couldn’t give her that power. No one deserved to have that much power over me.
It was only three months. A small compromise. Barely a breath compared to the years I had spent sea
