House of Byrne

I've never been a 'good girl'.

I've never even known what it meant. Truthfully...I don't care to. My identifier? Is the brat. The whore. The spoiled little sister. The waste of life. The half-breed daughter of a fallen king, in a kingdom hat was a joke to begin with.

My brother bet his life on luck. And luck gave him a swift gutting--until she fell into his life with a bloody mop and a bucket...and a pile of dead people we laid at her altar. Seven Grey was our saving grace. Our 'Mother Mary'. That weird piece of furniture in our lives that reshaped the entire room...and she says she envies me.

I envy her.

I envy Malek.

I envy the fact that after all that's happened...I miss the oblivious brat that I used to be. Malek deserves the happiness he's found with the dark angel that brought us all a little peace.

But he didn't get that peace without his revenge.

I didn't know what it was like to feel them die. To watch them. To get high off of their blood on my hands.

...Now I do...

Killing one of my enemies picked the lock to the fiery cage that's nestled in the pit of me. Branded by my last name. Set on fire by the hate that I feel. I don't remember the girl I was before it. She's dead. All I know now? Is the bitch I've become. The rage that made my first murder so sweet. The taste I can't get out of my mouth, no matter what kind of life I wish I could live. Malek's demons are sleeping.

My name is Bridget Byrne.

...and my demons are very much awake...