Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

look. Something desperate.
As if he’s waiting for me to say goodbye.
But I’ve already tumbled too far down the rabbit hole to go
back to my old life now. I couldn’t go back, even if I wanted
to.
Which I don’t.
I have no idea where this dark part of me has been
sleeping, how it’s lain dormant in my heart for so long, but
Kage’s story has awoken something hard and flinty in my
bones. A creature that believes the ends justify the means, no
matter how bloody.
A fire-breathing dragon has roused inside me, snapping
open slitted eyes.
The dragon says, “I don’t care about your past. What
you’ve done. How you got here. Maybe I should, but I don’t. I
care about you, and the way I feel when I’m with you, and
how you’ve brought me back to life. You don’t ever have to
tell me anything you don’t want to. I won’t pressure you. But
if you do want to talk, I’ll listen without judgment. No matter
what you have to say. No matter how awful you think it is, I’ll
be here for you.
“Because although you told me you’re not a good man, I
don’t believe that’s true. But even if it is, even if you are a bad
man, then you’re the best bad man I’ve ever known.”
Frozen, he stares at me. His lips part. He exhales a small,
shallow breath.
Then he kisses me as if his very life depends on it. As if
his soul is on the line.
And if I sense the smallest hint of anguish in his kiss, the
faintest shade of misery and regret, I know it must be my
imagination.