Hunters POV “Esme, it’s true.” My chest squeezes the words out and my mind dare not believe my eyes. It must be… fifteen years, no, sixteen, at least, since I watched her walk away from me. I have spent every single day of each of those years convincing myself it hurts just a little less every time I think of her. It’s all total bull shit. I distract myself from the pain, go hunting with Christian, take my frustrations out on the rogues we find in the search for his parents’ killers. I tell myself it’s in their name that I commit such depraved acts against the scum we encounter, and it is true, in part. It’s mostly to remind myself how to feel something other than numb, emptiness. I know it comes across like I am no better than the rogues, after all I was one from the very day I came of age. But it’s not like that. I stumble through each day, numb and aimless, with no real sense of purpose or belonging. I don’t want to feel the pain of love or rejection, so I sought out the exact opp
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