Darrius
Guilt chewed a f*****g hole in my gut, and I did not like it at all. So, I had f****d Avery and left. There was no reason for my stupid conscience to pound into me about it. I downed another goblet of ale before refilling it again. It wasn't like the woman would stay or join her merry-men against the horde of Unseelie. I snorted.
Why should she?
Sure, she was a bloody good fighter. One of the things I admired about her, including her stubbornness and how she didn't back down from me. Or how good she felt in my arms . . . like she belonged there . . . with me.
I slammed my goblet down, ale splashing over the sides.
None of that mattered. She was my enemy...killed my kind and had wanted to kill Malcolm. I wouldn't give in to any sappy thoughts about a future with her.
It would
