Maybe you're the kind who enjoys being disciplined, huh?

Please refrain from opening this chapter if you are under 18 years old. Exercise discretion; this is a work of fiction with all its imaginative elements.

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He halted mid-drink, staring at the bottle in his hand.

Raven had always been particular about things like that—he hated sharing utensils or drinking after someone else.

Alaric, ever perceptive, seemed to read his thoughts and quickly turned to guilt-tripping.

"Come on, take responsibility for making me all dirty like this. The least you can do is scrub my back! Ugh, my hands are so sore from being pinned down all night. It really hurts!"

Raven let out a long, exaggerated sigh.

"Fine," he grumbled, annoyance lacing his voice.

***

Since Alaric had entered his life, Raven couldn't help but wonder how many of his principles had been shattered.