I’m writing this because you begged. You know how I love the begging

Make him love you,” Ruthless Me whispered. “Make it so he can’t live without you. The devil you know.” I felt her growing inside me, bringing with her the insane idea that I actually wielded power with Caleb.

People often believed they were safer in the light, thinking monsters only came out at night.

People often believed they were safer in the light, thinking monsters only came out at night. But safety – like light – is a façade. Underneath, the whole world is drenched in darkness. The only way to truly be safer, was to accept the dark, to walk in it with eyes wide open, to be a part of it. To keep your enemies close, so that you could no longer discern where they ended and you began.

People often believed they were safer in the light, thinking monsters only came out at night. But safety – like light – is a façade.

Somehow I'd still managed to go all retarded at the sight of some handsome asshole with a nice smile.

Some stories aren’t black and white…

Like any author worth a shit - she parted with a piece of her soul.

His fingers caressed the column of my tense throat. I shivered in fear. I hated not being able to see what was happening, it forced me to feel everything.

He was the monster that no one thought to look for in the light of day. It was a common mistake. People often believed they were safer in the light, thinking monsters only came out at night. But safety - like light - is a facade. Underneath, the whole world is drenched in darkness.

The only way to truly be safer, was to accept the dark, to walk in it with eyes wide open, to be a part of it. To keep your enemies close.

Like a Falcon, she needed the dark to understand who her master was. She would learn to trust him, to rely upon him, to anticipate what he wanted from her. And like any master with his salt, he would reward her for her obedience. He would be exceedingly firm, but he would also be as fair as he could be. He had notchosen the instrument of his revenge at random. He had chosen a beautiful submissive. And what was a submissive if not adaptable -if not a survivor?

This isn't a romance. You're not a damsel in distress and I'm not the handsome prince come to save you.

I was not crying - eyes water. I think we all know I'm a badass and I don't cry. - Caleb

His touch was simple, but specific, meant to show me he could be like a lover, gentle, intimate, but also that he was a man unaccustomed to hearing the word no. Yes. I understood. He was a man, and I? I was nothing but a girl, not even a woman. I was meant to fall at his feet and worship at the altar of his masculinity, grateful that he’d deigned to acknowledge me. All this, from a simple touch.

Monsters don't born they made, but still monsters can love.

I cried for a while, taking solace in the comforting lie of his embrace. The illusion, the fantasy, it helped. I never wanted to leave. I wanted to stay here forever, held tight to his chest, his fingers stroking my hair, his heart beating against my ear: you’re-safe, trust-me, love-you. Love. Did I want him to love me? Yes. I wanted someone to love me. And what was love if not someone risking their lives to save you? Caleb had saved me. Did it mean he loved me? A part of me wanted to think so. To believe in a romantic ideal that didn’t exist. I wanted to believe the lie. But more than that – I wanted it not to be a lie

I wanted to cry for wanting to cry.

It's an ember forever burning in my heart. It's a reminder Caleb will live forever.