Sometimes I wore smiles but didn’t feel them. Sometimes I felt them and didn’t wear them. I didn’t want her to know how much I craved this. I bit my bottom lip.

But that was two years ago. She wasn’t sexy to me anymore. Now she was lethal.

But we were different now. I wanted only his pain, and judging from the girl he’d come home with last night, Madoc was still the same. A user.

Fallon affected my body in weird ways. But only because she’s different, I told myself.

Sometimes I wondered if the angels talked to get me to behave or to entice the devil to come out to play.

He was here. We were alone. We were angry. Déjà vu.

He was soft and slow, gentle and attentive. Possessive.

The thing is, Fallon . . . I told you before to lock the door if you wanted me to stay out. Funny thing is . . .” I leaned in. “You. Never. Did.

But breaking was beautiful. It hurt, and it was an uphill climb back to sanity, but you came back stronger, fiercer, and more solid than you were before. Tate had obviously been through it, I had, and eventually so would K.C., I thought.