melissa shield

“Here Brucie, playtime!” I called, his head immediately perking up from his nap. “Playtime, Brucie!” I repeated, and he scurried to his feet—I almost never let him have me twice in such quick succession, so he was understandably excited. But as he hurried over to Mom and me he ignored her completely, coming around behind me and trying to push me to the ground instead!

As for Galvin, we’re lucky that regeneration serum managed to fix his injuries. Even with the Wassengel, no one would support a blind, dickless eunuch for a king. But no serum could fix his shattered mind.” She looked down at the manacle on her arm, similar in design to the one Galvin used to control the Wassengel, and with a similar purpose. “Still, perhaps it wasn’t without its silver lining. My son was supposed to be my key to the throne, but the little cretin failed me at every turn. Now he’s finally useful to me, and all I had to do was take away his free will and turn him into a good little puppet. This was simply the excuse to do what had to be done. I can feel him fighting for control, feel his resentment, but it’s no matter. He will serve the purpose for his birth whether he likes it or not.”

“That’s it! You are disqualified from the tournament!”“Fine by me, just make sure it goes on the record that this is his loss, understand?” The ref was silent. “Understand? I don’t care about the next match, just so long as I am the winner of this one. So go ahead and say it. I want to hear you say it.”