Don't underestimate me. I tried. And am still. Looking for a new strategy. To win. That does not involve stabbing moon bodies.
[Caliborn really, really hates being so casual about it. But apparently all the alphas know, and the wardens know, and he can't imagine who else probably knows because no one around here can keep their damn mouths shut.]
[And also, if he doesn't say something, Damara might try to stab Calliope, which is only bad for him for the reasons he's about to make obvious. He tries to sound bolder than he feels about being so damn open about shit that shouldn't be anyone's business.]
Since no one in this trap can respect rules and keep secrets. And you know my name. I'll tell you something. That I still don't want spread around. No matter how bad all the uncouth filth is about keeping quiet.
That whore is stuck in my skull. And uses the body. For all her shameless "living" and "breathing." When I'm asleep.