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Eros's pov

Mates shouldn't smell like death.

They shouldn't reek of the weaknesses that made you want to steer away from them when all you yearned to do was to pull them near, whisper endearing words and shower them with chaste kisses that would leave traces of red blooming on their cheeks.

Hanging out with them should feel like heaven during and afterward and not like you have been pulled through hell and you have to pop pills to reach sanity and avoid death.

"When I meet my mate, it will be the most perfect and most beautiful meet cute ever. I will sweep her off her feet and grace her with kisses and she would never want to depart from my sight and I would never have to use any violence or unnatural means to get her to fall for me."

These were my exact words ten years ago at the family dinner as I mocked my father and brother-in-law on their dark and unnatural love stories, little did I know that I would face worse.

Fate surely was a cruel bastard.

Biting me in the arse with my word