Neon Drops

I'd made the choice to survive Broken House. I'd chosen to live instead of landing myself in an eternity of torture. At this point in my life, I shouldn't have been surprised that somehow living was more difficult than my previous suicidal ventures.

At least I had my men. Three kings. Three sexy, dominant shifters. What could go wrong with that? I mean really, what possible conflict could result in having six possessive, powerful men surrounding me at all times? I had no doubt that in true Louvre fashion the conflict would show itself at the most inconvenient time. Unfortunately, that wasn't all we had to worry about and the weight of our true situation was heavy and terrifying.

There was a lot we didn't know. Had Mr. Black really given up that easily? Somehow I didn't think that was the case. Better yet, why the hell does my stalker have such an odd fixation with origami animals? The most important question though? What was coming for us that was so bad that a cosmic being had sought me out to warn me?

Yeah, so as I said, living was fucking complicated.