"Do you really have to go?"
"I left a shirt with my pheromones behind. Although I don't know how much that will help."
"Killian, is your child."
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. How much longer until this act ends?
At least be honest with me.
At least tell me you made a mistake and you regret it.
At least tell me that whoever is growing in you is not mine.
"If you have any cravings or want anything, one of my guys is at the door. Just talk to him."
"Can't you stay?"
"I have work to do."
He started to sob again.
Which means I had to comfort him again.
Since the cardrive a week ago, his heath became more and more unstable.
Taking care of Damian was just one more obligation on an already unbearable list.
He wasn't a person anymore—just a liability with a pulse, slouched around my apartment in silk robes and varying states of physical disrepair.
