Chapter32

#Chapter32

Serving Justice

So, excuse me if I'm easily irritated. Because I was never a morning person, and triggering me is the last thing someone would want to do.

/"You know,/" Alastor began, and I looked back at him as I watched him lick his lips, /"I'm only afraid that you'll start to get addicted with your own understanding of what is right, interpreting each dead body as an act of justice./"

I blinked back at him, my hand frozen on the door knob of the bathroom. /"Maybe,/" I said, my voice barely above a whisper. As I turned my back on him, a worried look crossed my face.

Entering the bathroom, my mind was too occupied thinking that at some degree, Alastor was right. And at the back of my mind was an unnerving feeling of how Alastor doesn't seem to trust me as much as I don't seem to trust him either.

Is this how mates work?

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