All my questions were met with clipped answers. My barbs with noncommittal responses. My teasing with silence. River wouldn’t play with me. And I…didn’t like it.

Harlow gave a small chuckle and reached up to pat my cheek. “Hey, you want the real me? You’ve got it. Zero filter and all. Just some food for thought? If being with me would be such a mistake, if I’m really not your type, then why can’t you stop picturing it?”

Not like demons. Our love was rare but all-consuming. When we fell in love and marked another as our own, that was it for us.