I can feel him with me, always. It’s not as if I want to. I
I don’t. He knows this. But he is relentless, utterly without mercy. This does not surprise me, for did he not warn me himself of his nature, of his intent?
I thought he would surely strike me then; such insulting contempt as I threw into my tone, my expression!
And he a man wholly unused to opposition of any kind, with a temper utterly unsuited to brooking the insolence which I take delight in displaying towards him.
A fearsome grimace did indeed flash across his features, one hand clenched abruptly at his side,
and for a timeless moment I felt myself to be the arbiter of the scene; if the rage I had induced caused him to wreak vengeance on my person,
then unquestionably I should emerge the victor - broken, torn I might be
, but his lapse in control would set me forever above him mentally.
Read the rest via the link in the description!