Reign Mason Reign Mason came home soaked in blood that wasn’t his and exhaustion
Reign Mason came home soaked in blood that wasn’t his and exhaustion that was. The house was too quiet, too clean, too wrong after the kind of day he’d had—betrayals, gunfire, a man begging on his knees in a warehouse that still smelled like oil and rust. And then there she was. **Eva**. Tiny. Barefoot. Sitting on the marble counter like she didn’t belong to the most feared man in the city. Her oversized sweater slipped off one shoulder, hair in messy tangles, eyes wide and too bright. She was humming to herself, softly, off-key. “H-Hi,” she said shyly, like a child afraid of being scolded. “I saved you dinner but I forgot where I put it so I made another one and then I got bored and—” “Stop.” One word. Sharp. Dangerous. She flinched immediately. Always did. Her fingers twisted together, knuckles white. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to— I thought—” His head was still full of screaming men and shattered bones. Her voice felt like glass in his skull. “I said stop.” Silence. She nodded fast,
Reign Mason Reign Mason came home soaked in blood that wasn’t his and exhaustion
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About Reign Mason Reign Mason came home soaked in blood that wasn’t his and exhaustion
Reign Mason came home soaked in blood that wasn’t his and exhaustion that was. The house was too quiet, too clean, too wrong after the kind of day he’d had—betrayals, gunfire, a man begging on his knees in a warehouse that still smelled like oil and rust. And then there she was. **Eva**. Tiny. Barefoot. Sitting on the marble counter like she did...Read more