She was brutal. She wanted blood. She was a monster.
A monster that I created.
This story is not about the rejected mate winning her true love back.
This is about the rejected mate on the hunt for his blood - even if it grows deadly.
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She looked at me again, noting the bitter tongue I used around fate. It was a senseless, cold word. Fate. Who are we to say our lives are planned? I never wanted a plan to be made for me.
