«I never thought that, after my fight with Aron, you'd still sit at the same table as me,» I murmur, my voice uncertain but oddly relieved.
Kimberly Dulcar sits in her usual spot beside me.
This evening, at our secluded corner in the canteen, it's just the two of us.
Gerard, after yet another defeat, is stuck in his room—not by choice, but because Priscilla's lashes tore his thighs and calves so badly he can't even get out of bed.
He's a good man; he doesn't deserve this.
I agree with Daphne that violence is always the wrong answer, yet in the face of such senseless cruelty my beliefs waver.
If Nova Aetas truly managed to wipe out all vampires and free us from this slavery, even these tortures would end.
I don't say this for myself, but it would be selfish not to acknowledge what the other familiars endure every day.
