Confessions of a Killer

38 Similarities

Underneath by Blacktop Mojo
Jasper:

The thing about waking up with someone next to you is that it can go one of two ways; Completely peaceful, life fulfilled with sunshine and rain bows sprouting out your ass because the person you're with is your sun, moon, and stars. Or, as is this case; the most fucking annoying part of the day because reality isn't half as good as the dream you're waking up from.

Her hair is fucking beautiful, a shade of ebon that's just asking for a fist in it while those perfectly delectable lips part wide in an attempt to not choke on the cock being shoved through them; just like Charlie's.

They both eat razor blades for breakfast, are alpha to the motherfucking core, and don't give a good goddamn what anyone thinks of them.

That's where the fucking similarities end.

Charlie is fundamentally broken at the core, fractured in such a way I can't believe she still stands. Perhaps it's those very fractured pieces that allow the light to shine through, her soul is a piece of artwork woven from the grandeur of the gods.

Aries... is impenetrable.

This bond is a goddamn menace. I have to work to keep her out so she doesn't fucking see how disgusted I am. That every time is see Charlie with our Alpha, who I had believed to be my best friend, I can taste the bile rising in my throat, feel the flames licking at my back from the explosion that changed it all. The soft pleading in Charlie's eyes as she looks at me rips be down to the core, eviscerating me entirely of my hard won self control until the animal within starts to stalk within, watching, waiting for the chance to take over like it did those many years ago when Aries and I were together. It's that secret hidden vulnerability that draws me in like, as the cliche phrase goes, a moth to a motherfucking flame.

This bond is supposed to open up a shifter in the attempt to heal ones very soul, Opening up a world of possibilities to the female that she unfortunately can't access on her own, while the males beast calms. It's supposed to be that all binding soul shit that leaves the couple eternally at ease with each other and a bunch of other frou-frou heartfelt things that make me want to gag on a wooden spoon over.

With Aries it's like the fire is stoked. I don't feel fucking peaceful, or serene. I feel bloody murderous, ready to snap at a moments notice.

There's only been one woman I've ever been interested in, only one who made me ever want to give this whole mate thing a fucking chance, the only who wrangled the beast inside of me me into any sort of tamed pup in resemblance... and I fucked it up.

I don't want to be healed. I don't deserve it.

The problem isn't that I'm disgusted with Aries. No. She's so damn perfect. The fucking problem is me.

Aries Wrathborne... Goddamnit the woman is as tough as her namesake. I once asked her why her parent chose 'Aries' as a name and she fucking grinned at me, full on, shiny white teeth bared in a feral expression, eyes dancing with cerulean fire as her lips opened to tell me the most infuriatingly beautiful reason.

The Wrathbornes are one of the oldest families said to descended from the Originals. One of the five to survive the dark ages and the witch trials that humans brought on in a sordid attempt to become the dominant species. So many crusades in the name of justice wiped out so many of the founding families of the wolf shifters. The Wrathbornes...? They are their namesake. Born perpetually angry and dangerous.