ELYRA.
I have always hated having to make choices.
To me, choices feel like standing in the middle of a road while two cars speed toward you from opposite sides. You can only jump one way. And no matter which direction you chose, something always got hit.
Right now, that “something” was either my father… or my dream.
I stood in the kitchen, wooden spoon in hand, staring at Raidel across the island counter. The smell of frying bacon filled the room, thick and salty, but I barely noticed it. My chest felt tight.
Raidel leaned back against the counter like he had all the time in the world. There was that smirk on his face. That slow, cruel curl of his lips that made my stomach twist. If the devil ever decided to retire, I was sure he would take lessons from Raidel first.
“You’re overthi
