I am a man with a warrior's mind, yet she was the battle I lost every time. I was known by many names. Prince of bastards, Warrior-heart, the general of night court armies. Yet none of those felt like when she said my name. With utter indifference. I have seen hunger, abuse, being powerless; yet nothing felt like this felt. She hated me. I hated her, or so that I thought. Her gaze always sharp and despiseful. Mine always cold and calculated in retaliation. Or cocky just to see her scowl. Yet something in me always stirred deep whenever she was around. She was my ruin and I was never more tempted to be ruined before. She had become my only exception. And I don't know whether to strangle her for it or kiss her senseless until I am as thoroughly etched in her mind like she is in mine.

"Can you listen to one thing I ask you to?" I snapped. Unlike myself. This woman had driven me over the edge without even trying. And great, now she is glaring. And I can't help but curse myself at my body's reaction to a stupid glare.

"It is for you own good for Cauldron's sake."