MIRABEL REDFORD
We have been fighting for hours and no matter how many times he tells me it was for the best of me, I can’t believe it even for a second.
How is spying on me, being in my head twenty-four-seven, feeling what I feel while being intimate even remotely close to being about me?
I cut his neck with my claws and that is when I think he realizes how serious I am about this.
He starts running up the hill. I run after him. I need a better explanation from him and not some shenanigans that it was a ritual gone wrong and some stupid reasoning that we are destined to be together.
My legs attach to his face, and he growls and continues running. He makes me angrier because clearly, he is not fighting as he should. From the looks of things, he thinks he is letting me win because he
