[KOSTA]
"I wanted to be a better person, my beautiful. Someone who you would be so proud to call yours. It was always that simple… until today. I swear, I never intended it to disappoint you, but I think I did," Kosta swallowed hard, his chest aching even more.
He could still recall the screams.
The way the pack had been annihilated because of him.
The way that Gabriel Grealor had fallen on his sword and failed to die, only for Kosta to slap his head off and chop him into little pieces before burning him to a crisp right beside his father dearest.
It was the harshest thing Kosta had done in years, and now he was never going to be able to see the best of the feedback on what he had done. It was like all of that had been for nothing, and nothing would ever hurt more than that hurt.
Hell, it still haunted him.
And they had had to do it, or so he believed still.
Something had to count.
Something had to give.
