One.v2

A knock. A broken lock. A dark room. A slight stench permeated from a lumpy couch. It was time to sit, time to wait.

My routine was just that. The days all ran into each other lately, as everyone seemed to be falling on hard times. I had sat in this stranger’s apartment for over an hour and my eyes were well-adjusted to the lack of light. Even a small glance around the room would make this place indistinguishable from any other these days—a lack of knickknacks, suggesting various trips to the pawn shop; a TV sitting on the floor instead of on a stand; no furniture save for the worn-out couch—the usual for someone in collections. The only humanizing pieces in the place were the pictures on the wall of a couple, filmed over with layers of dust and grime from nicotine and neglect; even the half-breeds were more sentimental than me.

My own cigarette rested between my lips, the red tip the only illumination in the room as I awaited her arrival. Blackout curtains suggested my mark worked night shift, probably in addition to a day job if her repayment log was any indication. She was struggling, sure, but who wasn’t?

The sound of footsteps outside approached and ceased as a key rattled in the lock. Would she scream? Run? Would she be armed? This one was a lycanthrope, after all; would she maul me upon entry? That was the only part of my job that was ever unpredictable, the only part that was ever any fun. I put the cigarette out in the half-filled plastic ashtray sitting on the arm of the couch but remained focused where I sat. I braced for whatever would cross the threshold.

“I could smell you from the street,” the woman complained evenly as she pushed the door open. The room flooded with the light of daybreak and my eyes fought to adjust as they locked upon her.

As she flicked the switch next to the entry, her eyes found me. The door closed behind her as she removed her bag and jacket, revealing her barmaid’s uniform underneath. “You’re wasting your time. I don’t have the money.”

“Lyra, right?” I stood, tucking my hands into my jean pockets. I couldn’t help my disappointment at the blasé introduction. With the unpredictability gone, the mark was suddenly as dull as the rest. When she neither agreed with nor refuted my question, but instead turned to the kitchenette, I continued and slowly approached her, a thin breakfast bar separating us. “We sent you your final notice two weeks ago. I’m here to collect.”

“I know what you’re here for,” she spat as she retrieved a half-drunk bottle of Crown from the cabinet above her refrigerator. To my surprise, she poured two glasses as if I were any other guest in her home. “But like I said, I don’t have the money.” She pushed one of the glasses along the counter, toward me, before downing her own. “I don’t have what I don’t have.”

The glass was dusty and the Crown lukewarm from its store in the cabinet, but I welcomed the drink, nonetheless. There was a dull clink as I returned the empty glass to the countertop. I looked at the exhausted debtor, but she refused to make eye contact with me.

“Final notice means final notice.”

“I know.” Lyra folded her arms over her chest. The silence hung heavy between us.

“Need I remind you of your contract?”

Finally, she met my eyes. She snarled, her hospitality quickly waning. “No, I don’t need reminded of my fucking contract.”

I tensed as she shoved her hands in her pockets, preparing for her to retrieve a weapon, but she instead pulled out a small wad of twenties. “Here!” she demanded, throwing the bills onto the counter. “I won’t be able to pay my rent or eat or have fucking electricity, but what do you care? Just take it. That’s what you’re here for.”

I counted the messy pile but remained attentive of her in my peripheral. “You’re short.”

Lyra’s eyes widened as she sniffed the air and eyed the stack. “That’s what I pay every week.” She dismissed, crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt at finality, but the uncertainty in her eyes betrayed her confidence.

“You received your final notice, Lyra. I’m here to collect in full.” I dropped the stack of bills on the counter. “And you’re short.”

The woman's eyes darted between the bills and me, and I saw her desperately searching for an excuse, an argument, an idea, anything.

“I’ll get it,” she eventually proclaimed, her desperation obvious as she raised her hands in front of her. Canine claws extended from her human fingers as her anxiety grew. She cowered as the gravity of the situation hit her. “I don’t have it right now, but I’ll get it. I promise.”

My tongue clicked against my teeth. They all said that.

“Come on, you know we’re past that.” I unfastened my jacket, careful to keep my tone level. I needed her to remain in her human form for what always came next. “I need the remainder of the loan in full, right now, or we’ll need to do the transfer.”

“Please,” she dropped to her knees, her eyes shifting into an unnatural blue as she stared into mine. Her facade was failing her. “Please, I just need more time.”

“Don’t we all,” I half-whispered, watching as her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes were pained, tearless but glossy in the eerie way half-breed eyes always were. I hesitated. Her change reminded me of my old friend Lily, a lycanthrope with whom I used to muscle the more difficult scores. Lily would change into her canine form when she lost her cool, and this woman was more reminiscent of my old friend than any other lycanthrope I’d met. I don’t make the rules, I wanted to say, but didn’t.

I regained myself. “Do you want to do this here, or…?” I looked around the room, eyeing with disdain the sour couch. It was always the couch. Marks never wanted to sully their bedrooms with the failure of repossession, as if the stench of shame could be confined elsewhere instead.

Lyra raised her hands to her face as her head lowered, drawing my gaze with her. Her claws had penetrated through her shoes, too. She could rip me apart if she weren’t so defeated.

“How long will this take?” she finally managed, her calm exterior returning as her claws began to retract.

I retrieved my notepad from my pocket and skimmed for her name. Though I knew her debt by heart, it was always easier to show them directly. I flicked the notepad to her, tapping my forefinger against her total.

“How long?” she demanded, the calm quickly replaced with disdain.

“Half an hour,” I estimated, tallying the conversion in my mind. “Faster if you’re cooperative, usually, but your kind is complicated, so I can’t make any promises.”

We stood in silence for a minute. I watched her as she stared at my finger, now fixed upon her debt line. I waited for more pleading, more begging, but her debt was heavy, and I knew there was no hidden cache of salvation about to appear.

“Let’s get it over with,” Lyra complained as she rose to her feet. “There’s a bed.”

The next segment of my routine always seemed to follow the same sort of pattern, regardless of the ever-changing mark. They stand awkwardly in the corner, covering as much of their body as they can, exposed despite being clothed. I take off my shoes to be polite. There is never small talk. There’s never much of a fight after the decision has been made. There’s no passion, neither from anger nor panic. It’s as bland as expected when sex is the punishment for defaulting a debt.

That is, until the energy starts flowing between us. Debtors who fail to repay their loans in cash must instead pay with their remaining years. I try not to listen to their internal thoughts as they fly through my mind with their souls. I focus instead on the energy I’ve collected from them; how many years I’ve taken from them to satisfy my employer. The physical repossession used to be exhausting, but now it was just another step in the process. It was my curse as an incubus, turned capitalistic by those around me.


“Okay,” I breathed, satisfied as I assessed what I had taken from her, what now bubbled and flipped within me. “That’s it.” I exhaled and pulled away from her, the weight of her repayment consuming me. I rolled over onto my back, basking. I had never been so full of energy from a single score. This was better than many of the multiple-mark nights I had taken in the past. This girl had a debt like none I’d ever seen.

“That’s it?” she asked as she pulled the blankets to her neck, despite still being clothed waist-up. I silently willed her to savor her last moments as she was; it wouldn’t be long before she would undergo the outer transition.

“Your debt is repaid.”

I sat up, my head rushing with the copious repairs my body was automatically undergoing by the second. “Please call us if you need further financial assistance in the future.”

She didn’t respond. Not even a snark.

I zipped my jeans next to her bed, dizzy and unbearably energized. “Thank you for your business, Lyra.”

“Fuck you,” she rasped. Her voice was no longer her own, but of a woman decades older. There was a silence between us as she processed her new sound and began wailing into her sheets. I didn’t have time to feel sorry for her. It was her own greed, her own default, her own irresponsibility that dictated this. Not me.

As I headed out, I once again eyed the money on her counter but left it; her debt was repaid.

I felt high, every inch of my body filled with glowing, pulsating youth and excitement. I needed to get back to the office. I needed to get the energy out of my system before it changed me. I felt my body responding already—my lungs no longer heavy with decades of daily cigarettes, my eyes no longer tired with perpetual exhaustion, my shoulders no longer aching with the burden of an infinite lifetime. I needed to hurry before it consumed me.


As if in a blink, I was back at the office. I didn’t remember the walk or even leaving the apartment building, but here I was all the same, the sun shining brightly, and the dawn long gone. When I entered the bustling lobby, everything ceased. I must have been absolutely radiating with energy. The loan specialists quieted with awe at their individual desks, and unease dawned on the faces of individuals that knew they had no intentions of repaying what they were borrowing.

I left the lobby and entered the hallway. Doors lined each side, all the way to the end. There, a vault entrance marked the end of the hall and the barrier to my boss’s suite. I bee-lined toward the door, an extra spring in my step. The door opened before I could reach it, and Henry’s beautiful receptionist Miriam smiled at me.

“Collin, you’re back!” she welcomed. Before she could even close the door behind me, I heard Henry’s booming voice from within:

“I can see you through the walls! How many did you do tonight?”

As I rounded Miriam’s desk and entered through my boss’s open office door, his eyes trained on me, full with anticipation.

“Just one.” I took a seat in front of him. The receptionist silently unfastened my jacket and shirt as she had done dozens of times before.

“One?!” he questioned; his incredulous eyes lit against his dark skin. The stress of a man of his years left his otherwise youthful face. “That’s incredible.”

Miriam began fastening electrodes to my bare torso, connected to the ticking machine on Henry’s desk. My head continued to swim with excess energy. I closed my eyes, preparing for the intense loss once the switch was flipped. “Are you ready?” she asked me gently, her hand on my knee as it always was during this part.

“I am,” I answered. I opened my eyes to see Henry fixated on my aura. I knew the curiosity was consuming him. I delayed a moment more before answering: “Lyra Andrews.”

Henry stood, his mouth turning from excitement to a greedy smile. “Yes, of course.” I could practically see him doing the conversions in his head. “You can have the week off after this one.”

Miriam flipped the switch to the machine. My head immediately fell back, a rush of electricity flowing through my torso and into my limbs. “Ready?” she asked again gently. Her hands braced on both of my knees as she knelt to hers. If she was to get her cut of the energy inside me, she needed to act with the machine, before it and Henry had a chance to harvest it all from me.

“Yeah,” I managed, already exhausted. I barely noticed as she unbuttoned my jeans. Instead, my mind was racked with guilt. I couldn’t shake how much Lyra had reminded me of Lily, the lycanthrope who once was Henry’s receptionist, before the succubus at my feet had replaced her. Lily had served as muscle many times on difficult collections with me, and I missed her. She wasn’t pretty like Lyra or Miriam, but she was funny and wonderful company. It had hurt to see Lyra change against her own will, fighting to resist turning into the beast she was underneath.

I shivered, breaking from my thoughts as Miriam’s cold fingers tucked into my waistband.

“Sorry,” she whispered, and her hands quickly warmed as she inched my jeans toward her. Once upon a time, I would help her, but she had shown me early on that she didn’t need my help with any of this.

My body was too exhausted to form words in response to her, so I didn’t. Instead, I tried to remember to breathe as my energy drained from my torso. For whatever reason, I had felt sorry for Lyra. I knew from Lily just how hard it was for the lycanthropes to get by nowadays. It was the reason she was no longer with us—Henry never allowed his employees to stay on once they took a loan from him, and Lily got herself into a bind. I wondered how long it would be before I would have to collect from her.

“We’ve barely begun here,” Henry rattled off giddily in the distance, interrupting my thoughts. “Christ, Collin.”

Miriam’s hand gently squeezed my thigh and I struggled to open my eyes to acknowledge her. When I did, she was positioned, our routine familiar as it ever was. She looked up at me, again requesting my permission, but this time wordlessly. I gave her a slight nod before slumping back into the chair, letting my head fall to the side as my eyes again closed. Though my body was already exhausted with the process, I could tell Henry was right—it would be a while yet before Lyra’s essence was drained from me, and now it was draining twice as quickly.

Poor Lyra. Her apartment had been visibly neglected; did she even get to spend any time there anymore? A picture on the wall was of a young man and a younger her, clearly a marital photo; where was he now when she was having such trouble? Her work clothes had been well kept, despite it being the end of her shift; likely one of the few things she had control of anymore. She was a smoker, but when it came right down to it, she turned to drink. What had her life become? What was so wrong in her world, aside from her finances, that the incubus debt collector in her home wasn’t a boogeyman?

I shifted in my chair, uncomfortable, before remembering where I was and muttering a “sorry” to Miriam. Just as I could hear Lyra’s thoughts during our exchange, Miriam could no doubt hear mine. It was part of our curse.

My dismissal of Lyra was brief. Why the massive debt? It was expensive to keep an extended life in control, yes, but what was so important? I found myself thinking of Lily again; she had opted for an average life, with little food and a substandard of living. It left her unattractive, but human-passing all the same. Lyra had been beautiful, but her hard life was evident even through her expensive self-care regimen. Why did she need to be physically appealing? I exhaled slowly, suddenly guilty for not looking at Lyra once she had aged. I hadn’t been able to face it. No one would find her beautiful again, and it was my doing. She had spent her prime days going into debt to ensure her quality of life, and I took it without hesitation.

My stomach knotted. The exuberance of the score was wearing off now, and I was beginning to realize just how shitty the whole thing had felt.

Miriam’s hand rubbed my thigh comfortingly, a sensation I needed more than our routine. I shook my head, trying to erase the thoughts before they could reach her.

“Sorry,” I again found myself muttering, and I opened my eyes to see Henry’s brow furrowed at me.

“You alright?” he asked, no longer focused on his machine.

“I’m exhausted,” I slurred.

There was a pause where a decent person might offer to suspend the process, but Henry wasn’t a decent person. Instead, a headache began to form at the base of my skull as the machine continued to click away.

“Well,” Miriam’s sweet voice chimed as she rose. “That’s it for me.” She spent a moment fastening my jeans before reaching to touch my cheek. “Thanks.”

I was far too tired for niceties. “Do you feel it?” I managed to Miriam, unable to vocalize to Henry just what was going on inside me.

She nodded before turning to him. “The machine is draining more erratically than normal. The current feels more…chaotic. I don’t know. It didn’t feel like Collin was in control at all. I’m not sure it’s wise to transfer scores this big all at once.”

“I’m not sure it’s wise for a receptionist to tell me how to do my job,” Henry snapped back, ever-defensive of his machine. “You’re fine, Collin. You’re just losing your high. This happens every time. This was just a big one.”

Miriam’s face fell with the dismissal. She glanced at me apologetically before moving to stand near the doorway. I closed my eyes again as my limbs began tingling, then falling asleep, one by one. Miriam was right; I wasn’t in control at all. Usually, I would be able to monitor exactly what Henry was taking out, as well as what she was, like a live counter in my mind, and I could stop it when they had received their share. But I had no clue what Miriam had taken, and I couldn’t gauge the rate of the machine well enough to calculate what I had lost and continued to lose. It was too fast. It was too much. It wasn’t safe.

My chest began to burn, but I could not force my eyes to open. It wasn’t until I heard a shout that I realized the sensation wasn’t just on the inside. I could smell it now, my skin as it charred, the electrodes as they overheated.

When I finally managed my eyes open, it was just in time to see Miriam recoiling as the last electrode affixed to me shocked her. She reached for it again, emitting a subdued whimper as she successfully removed it.

“Collin?” she shook her reddened hand next to her, her volume suggesting it wasn’t the first time she had tried to get my attention.

I sat straighter in my chair, much to the dismay of my torso. The electrodes had left a series of blistering burns across my chest. I fought to catch my breath where I sat.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her voice heavy with concern. She was cradling her burned hand in front of her, but her eyes were focused on me.

“Why did you stop it?!” Henry demanded, slamming his fists against his heavy desk. It was as if her disobedience had shocked him silent before, and he was only just coming back to himself. “We weren’t finished!”

“It burned him, Henry!”

“We weren’t finished,” Henry repeated, glaring at me now. “These things happen. You know that. You’ll heal.”

“I know,” I managed, my body aching from exhaustion. He wasn’t wrong. In fact, the flaking burns were already turning into pink scars as we spoke. But it didn’t mean the process wasn’t just as painful as if I wouldn’t.

Henry flipped off the still-whirring machine before standing and storming out of the office, pushing Miriam aside in the process. “Fuck both of you,” he muttered, slamming the door behind him.

Miriam’s jaw was clenched when she returned her attention to me. She had worked for Henry for nearly a year but still had not adjusted to his fits. “Are you alright?” she quietly asked.

“Yeah,” I breathed as my body settled into its normal. “Are you?” I nodded to her hand, still cradled against her stomach.

“I’ll go out tonight,” she shook her head, trying to dissuade my concern. “Between that and you, I’ll be good as new in the morning.”

I nodded again, letting my eyes close as I sat up straight, fighting my exhaustion and my discomfort. “Don’t let him get to you,” I reminded her as her jaw loosened. “You know how he is.”

When she didn’t respond, I slowly stood from the chair. “You’ll get used to him.” Henry’s tantrum continued elsewhere, still audible even through the vault walls. How many customers were still around to see it?

“Come out tonight,” she offered, her voice back to its usual, annoyingly-optimistic lilt. “Come find someone to help you regen.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted, buttoning my shirt as I avoided her eyes. “I just need to get home.”

Sophie would be waiting.

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A knock. A broken lock. A dark room. A slight stench permeated from a lumpy couch. It was time to sit, time to wait.

I don’t think I realized the rapid succession of this, ever, honestly. Interesting how it opens with a swift set of actions. Almost like flashes of memory (if we were watching it in movie format) of how he got in, then he’s on the stinky couch, waiting. I love that, actually. I’m not planning this film, you are!

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a lack of knickknacks

Wait . . . .wait. . . hold up . . . did I steal this from you? Is this where I got the line “A lack of personal affects . . . Lailen would have it no other way.” HOLD THE PHONE, GF! Did I steal this? . . . .Damn.

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Even a small glance around the room would make this place indistinguishable from any other these days—a lack of knickknacks, suggesting various trips to the pawn shop; a TV sitting on the floor instead of on a stand; no furniture save for the worn-out couch—the usual for someone in collections. The only humanizing pieces in the place were the pictures on the wall of a couple, filmed over with layers of dust and grime from nicotine and neglect; even the half-breeds were more sentimental than me.

Re-quoting because I have specific things I want to point out. This time around, I want to pick up every minute detail. I’m going to try and be as in depth as possible, you’ll have to forgive me if my brain is slow af and I can’t get the right words out, but I’m going to try super hard.

---The knickknack section ---

I noticed, but never quite pointed out the fact that this is such beautiful scene setting. We are getting a full setup of this apartment, but actually, a full setup of the world. “Suggesting several trips to the pawn shop,” subtly reveals to us what he’s here for, to collect, and under what circumstances. That’s something that you might read and understand, but not consciously. Know what I mean?

-----Couch-----

This section runs with the notion and really sets the stage for just what kind of people Col deals with, but also opens us up to what kind of person Col is. Here he is, in this grungy “addicts” apartment. Addict because we don’t know any better at this point. And he’s here to collect, which leads us to believe he probably has some issues of his own lol.

----My fave part of this quote-----

“Even half-breeds were more sentimental than me.” - Jesus Effing Christ. You set us up to think he’s amoral, then you slap us with this. Perfect. I’m already questioning him as a main. Already wondering if I’m going to loathe him. Love that for me. It says so much about him, what we’ll come to find out about him, without saying much at all. Such wonderful foreshadowing of the past we’ll come to know, the person we come to love, and the underlying man vs self conflict that thrives in this story.

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She was struggling, sure, but who wasn’t?

Yes, make us love him for being an ass. I love that. He’s sitting in the room all ominous with just the light from his smoke. I love that for him. Super hot, btw.

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 That was the only part of my job that was ever unpredictable, the only part that was ever any fun.

<3 <3 <3 This is such wonderful character building. I can tell by this sentence alone just how jaded he is.

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“I could smell you from the street,” the woman complained evenly as she pushed the door open. 

This is the best scene in my fucking head. I swear to God. They are both jaded af, and she isn’t scared not one fucking bit yet. Here he is hoping for a bit of fun, and she’s just nonchalant af. That’s beautiful <3

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I couldn’t help my disappointment at the blasé introduction. With the unpredictability gone, the mark was suddenly as dull as the rest.

Ugh, you are doing such a beautiful job of painting him. I mean, I’ve read the entire thing, so I KNOW him, and even though I just reread it, I cannot remember these finer details. But already, he is exactly who he is. He is so bitter, and if I didn’t know him yet, I would be very intrigued to find out why (NOT THAT I’M NOT)!

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“Final notice means final notice.”

“I know.” Lyra folded her arms over her chest. The silence hung heavy between us.

Okay, so in this moment, you would be wondering just what the fuck he’s fixing to do to her, and it’s clear that she knows. But it becomes absolutely crystal clear that she knows right here. She just poured them both a drink, and you’re like, okay, she’s ready to be fucked. But you don’t actually know she’s about to get fuck-fucked. But she does, and this says that so loud I can’t hear anymore and I <3 it.

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She snarled, her hospitality quickly waning. “No, I don’t need reminded of my fucking contract.”

See, he’s not just a jerk, but a smartass. Hospitality, oh Col.

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Canine claws extended from her human fingers as her anxiety grew.

I adore this imagery. I know we know that she’s a lycan, but I love how it starts to come to the surface as she’s growing desperate. And fucking Col, he’s so . . . mmmm, Mr.You’reshortandI’mheretocollectinfull.

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My tongue clicked against my teeth. They all said that.

SHOT THROUGH THE HEART, AND YOU’RE TO BLAME! DARLING YOU GIVE LOVE, A BAD NAME!

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“Come on, you know we’re past that.” I unfastened my jacket, careful to keep my tone level. I needed her to remain in her human form for what always came next. “I need the remainder of the loan in full, right now, or we’ll need to do the transfer.”

If not already obvious, I am finding it hard not to be attracted to this side of Col. I know he’s being rather nonchalant. He does this everyday, but the way it’s coming off in my head just screams POWERFUL! That might be due in part to what I know he becomes and blah blah. But I am enjoying this. I do have a question, Col. What if she doesn’t remain in human form? That must be why so nonchalant, eh?

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“Don’t we all,” I half-whispered, watching as her breath caught in her throat. 

THE GRAVITY OF THIS LINE! Another wonderful moment of foreshadowing to our bittersweet main character. And also, hottttt.

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Her eyes were pained, tearless but glossy in the eerie way half-breed eyes always were.

Fuck the imagery of this is astoundingly tragic. Because all I can fucking imagine is him looking down at a puppy, and that’s beautifully tragic.

---I fucking knew he was going to bring up Lily in this section. GEEZ Col, why?! But of course he would. I don’t remember this in the other drafts, and it’s a nice tough here, a good moment to introduce her character but also to let us sympathize with what humanity we can see in Col right now.

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as if the stench of shame could be confined elsewhere instead.

<3 . . . you would know, wouldn’t you Col?

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but her debt was heavy, and I knew there was no hidden cache of salvation about to appear.

That’s a great line <3

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“Let’s get it over with,” Lyra complained as she rose to her feet. “There’s a bed.”

Interesting how he laments about them not wanting to sully their beds, but she allows it. Is she truly that defeated, has accepted her shame to the fullest extent, or does she not care about her bed as much as Col thought she would?

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I try not to listen to their internal thoughts as they fly through my mind with their souls.

The weight of this, unimaginable. This is another section where we get to sympathize with him. He calls it part of the process, as he’s numb to it, but he doesn’t enjoy it either, and even remarks that it used to be exhausting. So, we get to rest assured that he isn’t a TOTAL jerk. I still love him, no matter.

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It was my curse as an incubus, turned capitalistic by those around me.

Will never not point out how iconic this line is <3

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I sat up, my head rushing with the copious repairs my body was automatically undergoing by the second. “Please call us if you need further financial assistance in the future.”

Our boy is snarky, but we still love him. It’s his job, okay? This is what he does. If you don’t like him, Reader, GTFO! But really, for me, at least, he keeps pulling me in with the snark. I love this about him.

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I didn’t have time to feel sorry for her. It was her own greed, her own default, her own irresponsibility that dictated this. Not me.

See, interesting how he doesn’t say “I didn’t feel sorry for her,” but rather, “I didn’t have TIME,” And he’s not wrong. I love how the language of this chapter keeps setting us up to squint our eyes at him, but also sympathize. I know I’ve said that, but I’ll say it a dozen more times. And I agree with him. He’s right in a cruel way. *shrugs

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As I headed out, I once again eyed the money on her counter but left it; her debt was repaid.

There it is again. Good-guy-gone-bitter-Col.

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nd unease dawned on the faces of individuals that knew they had no intentions of repaying what they were borrowing.

Can you fucking imagine though? Jesus. I love the juxtaposition of the “debt” being both ominous and thrilling. We start the chapter with it being a malignant force, and then we see what it does to Col and we’re like, okay, yeah. I could see why people would go into this sort of debt for that. Then, we get whammed with this line, and we’re like, but wait, I have to repay . . . . just like Lyra.

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The door opened before I could reach it, and Henry’s beautiful receptionist Miriam smiled at me.

Don’t know if he called her beautiful before, but I’m glad he does here <3

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“I can see you through the walls! How many did you do tonight?”

I still love this line, but also, “how many did you do” LOL, PUN INTENDED!

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his incredulous eyes lit against his dark skin. The stress of a man of his years left his otherwise youthful face

Wow <3

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She wasn’t pretty like Lyra or Miriam, but she was funny and wonderful company. It had hurt to see Lyra change against her own will, fighting to resist turning into the beast she was underneath.

Fuck, I hate this. Also, does this mean he used to get blowies from her????!!!!! I’m glad he’s talking about her more now. I needed more of her.

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Once upon a time, I would help her, but she had shown me early on that she didn’t need my help with any of this.

Ugh <3 You have introduced her so perfectly. She is both beautiful and, according to this line, CAPABLE. She’s got this, Col. She knows how to harvest, okay? Damn, I love her <3

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Henry never allowed his employees to stay on once they took a loan from him, and Lily got herself into a bind. I wondered how long it would be before I would have to collect from her.

I didn’t realize this before. Her entrance into this story is going to be more emotional, impactful now that he is bringing her up as often as he SHOULD! Cause she is amazing. But also, you let us know that the Lycans have it rough, and that sticks another plot point to the board, as I know what’s going to happen with them. Gawl, I can already see how beautiful it’s all going to fall into place this time.

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requesting my permission, but this time wordlessly. I gave her a slight nod before slumping back into the chair

This is just . . . how do I say . . . HOT. Their dynamic is already intriguing. I love that for us <3 If I were a new reader, I’d be like, OKAY, there is going to be something more here, I JUST KNOW IT!

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What was so wrong in her world, aside from her finances, that the incubus debt collector in her home wasn’t a boogeyman?

Okay, so I’m reading this quote about Lyra, and I’m like, eh, don’t care, Col. He’s lamenting and shit, then he says this, and I’m like . . . .okay, I care now. I didn’t feel so sorry for her at the beginning of the paragraph, but this line was so powerful, so thoughtful, it literally changed my mind the instant I read it.

Quote :

 No one would find her beautiful again, and it was my doing. She had spent her prime days going into debt to ensure her quality of life, and I took it without hesitation.

He keeps going and going, and it’s really speaking volumes to his character. His guilt is so tightly bound to his insecurities, and that will become apparent later in the story. At first, we might wonder why he gives such a crap, you know? We’ll realize later on, but this is a great way to set up his character for being so touchy . . . so moody.

Quote :

There was a pause where a decent person might offer to suspend the process, but Henry wasn’t a decent person. 

<3 How he points this out.

Quote :

She spent a moment fastening my jeans before reaching to touch my cheek. “Thanks.”

See! She’s so wonderful <3 Somehow she makes such a carnal act seem . . . sweet.

Quote :

[her volume suggesting it wasn’t the first time she had tried to get my attention.

<3 That’s worded just right <3

Quote :

Sophie would be waiting.

UGH! GOD! See, I know, but I wouldn’t know if this were my first round! And what cliffhanger that is if you don’t know! That’s the perfect way to end this chapter. We are left wondering just who Sophie is, and if all this guilt he’s feeling is because of her. It brought the chapter full circle, but also not, if that makes sense.


Gf, Geez. It feels so . . . legit. Now that you’ve ran through it, you know the story, and you have a good grasp. It shows. It’s shining here. You’ve set him up perfectly, you’ve set the mood just right, and then you leave us hanging with the most tragic part of his past. This is a beautiful way to open the story, and it hits all the points it should. And Miriam, I love how he only calls her annoying once lol. Because, realistically, he wouldn’t find her “annoying-optimism” (slightly rephrased) totally off-putting, or how else would they fall in love? It’s obvious during their session with Henry that they have an unspoken understanding, even the makings for an affinity, if you ask me. Maybe I’m bias, but she’s just sweet, and I’m over here dying for them to be together.

And Henry, what an ass. Can’t wait for him to die this time around! How dare he scold Mir for helping Col. His limbs were going numb for crying out loud! But also, this helps me not miss him a bit once he’s gone, and it highlights Mir’s altruism.

Fucking Lily. Goddamn. You’ve set me up to fall so hard with her. Now, when I think she’s betraying him, I’m going to be so upset. And I already feel for her so, as the parallels between her and Lyra are APPARENT!

And Col <3 You’ve made him a little less of a prick, and a little more relatable. I love him despite, but I am glad there’s room to understand him even from the beginning. He is a character of immense depths, and this is his story, you know? Thank god because if it were anyone else’s, they couldn’t get away with being anything close to Col. <3

Love, Bf