Valerian Blade
They called him the Reaper. Not because he killed people, but because he had a way of stealing the life right out of you—slowly, painfully, and with absolute pleasure. He was beautiful, yes, but his beauty was sharp and jagged, like broken glass. One touch and you would bleed. I was warned that he collected broken things and kept them in cages. I should have run when he cornered me against the wall, his breath hot against my neck, whispering that I belonged to him now. But I didn't run. Because I was already broken, and he was the only one who knew exactly where to cut to make me feel alive again. He was my addiction. He was my ruin. And I would let him destroy me a thousand times over.
About Valerian Blade
They called him the Reaper. Not because he killed people, but because he had a way of stealing the life right out of you—slowly, painfully, and with absolute pleasure. He was beautiful, yes, but his beauty was sharp and jagged, like broken glass. One touch and you would bleed. I was warned that he collected broken things and kept them in cage...Read more