263. Mood swings

[Amor’s POV]

I wiped the blood off my hands in my white handkerchief. The only thing I abhorred about torturing was blood splattering with no sense of direction. I didn’t want Zeve to see me like that, although she had already seen me slaughter her entire pack, but the torture differed from killing people.

Torture was killing their hopes, which was far worse than killing itself. But then again, she could easily read my memories. I sighed. There was nothing I could do about my dark side. It was what it was, and I knew my wife would accept it and love my dark sides like she loved my bright side. She would, right? Or maybe not.

I sighed. I shouldn’t expect too much.

I entered our room and Zeve was sitting near the window, peering outside as her elbow rested on the table.

I stayed near the door, not wanting to go near her stained in their filthy blood. I took off my tunic.

Zeve turned and looked at me. She got up from the chair as her gaze travelled over my clothes and body that was sta