clairebiggs
π¨πΌπΉπΆπΉπ¨ π«πΆπ΅π¨π―πΌπ¬ π¨π΅π« π¨π³π°πΊπ»π¨π°πΉ πͺπ¨π³π«πΎπ¬π³π³ ππ°π΅π« π¬π¨πͺπ― πΆπ»π―π¬πΉ π°π΅ πΉπΆπΆπ΄πΊ π»π―π°πͺπ² πΎπ°π»π― πΊπ°π΅.
π¨π³π°πΊπ»π¨π°πΉ πͺπ¨π³π«πΎπ¬π³π³ and π¨πΌπΉπΆπΉπ¨ π«πΆπ΅π¨π―πΌπ¬ are two sides of the same rusted razor wire sharp, dangerous, and destined to draw blood upon contact. They do not meet in soft confessionals or candlelit rooms of redemption; they find each other where the rot is deepest, where the shadows breed, and where the unforgivable acts are whispered.
Their attraction is not a choice; it is the final, magnetic pull of two utterly ruined objects.
It took a single, chemical touch, an electric jolt that shocked life back into the numbness and one devastating cross of their eyes for the hunt to begin again.
The game is primal, familiar: Hunter and Prey, but this time, the stakes are not merely ownership.
This time, Aurora Donahue wants to watch the world burn. She is done with grief; she only accepts the cleansing fire.
The death of her twin, Rosemary Donahue, was not a tragedy; it was the corrosive foundation for a devastating legacy of ruin.
When Rosemary was lost, her sisters, Sage and Aurora, didn't just grieve they went feral, leaving only silence and ash in their wake.
After three missing months, Aurora was found, not broken, but consecrated: numb on sedatives, her wrists etched with self-inflicted truths, her eyes holding the terrifying knowledge of what happened on the banks of the cold river.
Alistair sees the wreckage and is instantly, lethally addicted.
The compliant girl he once sought to control is gone, replaced by a vengeful force, a thing of horrifying beautiful lust and pure destructive hunger.
He doesn't merely realize something is wrong;
he understands that the wreckage is meant for him, and he claims i