\\\WARNING\\\ This book contains explicit sex scenes and strong language. No rape or sexual violence is included, however it does feature scenes with extreme violence and cruelty. To live is to suffer; to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering. Friedrich Nietzsche Frankie The bitterness is consuming. Its intensity slashes and claws at my insides, its hatred wrenching my soul as it curls and nurtures my need for revenge. His torture only feeds my vice. I won’t let him break me, only strengthen me. The pain he gives is welcomed, its rawness fuelling the loathing inside with each of his thrashes and tears on my pale skin, with every harsh truth he breathes in my ear and with each of his crippling holds. I have waited too long for this and I'll never let the bastard win. He will have to end me before I give in. But now he has a weapon against me. Something I swore throughout my life I would never let in; Love. Tate. Tate Her strength astounds me. He doesn’t seem to break her. His relentless persecution and determination to bury her under his furious reign and brutality eats at my soul. It has found that dark place inside me, the pit of hell I had locked and secured away, and enriched it, demanded its flourish and ripened its ferocity. The family wrath. She'll never give in, and I pray every night as I guide her through the darkness that tomorrow will bring the light to her soul before it is consumed, finally, by the plague of him; Evil. Jude. Jude She blossoms under my torture, the soft suppleness of her skin ripping and tearing as though her soul is trying to break free from the agony. I'll allow it, because I can. Because I need her soul. I crave the sustenance it feeds my rage with, my thirst for cruelty quenched by the sounds of her desolate screams and my hunger for blood, nourished by the slow drip of her life force at my feet. She thinks I won't break her, so does he. They underestimate the blood that slithers through my veins. It's sustained by pain and suffering. It's the blood that tenures those around me. The Bloodthirsty. The Shadows of Sin. .

Nola He is the wolf. I am the lamb. Arrogant isn’t the right word for how I would describe Jude, conceited isn’t even close enough. But hatred is how I would describe my feelings towards him. I loathe him. Abhor and despise him. He makes me burn with rage. I despise the way his teeth chew on that plump bottom lip of his. I hate the way his perfectly chaotic hair beckons for my fingers. I loathe the way he looks at me with those piercing blue eyes which I would gladly drown in, but not now, not today, not ever. The path I have chosen will be not be changed, there will be no diversion, no fork in the road. I am promised to another and I keep my promises. He’s too self-centred to focus with those striking blue eyes. He’s too overconfident to see what is under his nose. What threatens his very existence. Me. His shadow. Jude She is an angel. I am the devil. Prickly, aloof are just some of the words I would use to describe ‘Irish’. Irritable doesn’t even touch the grouchy woman. But exasperated is how she makes me feel. She grinds. Aggravates and angers. It infuriates me the way she slips her little pink tongue in and out of her tiny rose bud lips, like she taunting me with her knowing smirk. I am entranced, almost hypnotized, but it only fuels my rage. Her eyes sparkle like emeralds, jewels so precious and polished, just like her. She is the only woman who I have ever thought could bring me to my knees. But it won’t happen, it can’t, because she is too pure and moralistic, everything I am not and never will be. She’s far too superior to see the real me through those beautiful deep green eyes. She’s too cold to realise what lies silent within her. But deep down I see her, the real her. The person she doesn’t want anyone else to see. What her darkness desires. Me. Her sin. Cassandra She is his dream. I am her worst nightmare. He doesn’t see what’s under his nose. He disregards me, pushes me away. For her. For the whore with the deep green eyes. She doesn’t deserve him. Doesn't warrant his attention. I hate her. She fills me with repugnance and rage. Creates a fury in me that physically burns. Morphs me into the devils slave. He always said I would be his and no one else, so I waited. But no more. He’s mine, he promised. I am the only one who will accept him for what and who he is. He’s imperfect, broken, damaged, faulty, all the things I am. Which makes us perfect together. Two broken pieces which can be glued together to make a perfect whole. He will always be mine. I will destroy her no matter what it takes. And I see her. I know her. I know her secrets. The secrets that will bury her. Her past.