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March 13 - March 31, 2025
‘Because a Warsword has no business feeling the things I feel for a princess.’
‘Everything,’ he said at last, and then he kissed her.
He’d all but told Althea Zoltaire that he loved her, that she, the lost heir of Delmira, the living storm, owned him mind, body and broken soul. That his cold, weary heart was hers, if she would have it. But he didn’t let those words fall from his lips. Instead, he tried to capture them in every kiss, every touch as they stumbled back to the palace, tangled in one another like teenagers, consequences be damned. He drank in her sea-salt-and-bergamot scent like it was a drug and he was an addict. Gods, he could feel the tempest building in her, his own unique magic answering its call with power
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He’d follow her anywhere.
‘If there’s one thing that transcends time and distance and all else, it’s love.’
For as long as she’d have him, Althea Zoltaire was his. And he no longer cared who knew it. Maybe she should know it too.
Power met power and bound together, two threads entwining, forging something new, something stronger.
become an expert?’ But Torj wasn’t listening anymore. His attention was elsewhere. On the alchemist tending to the fire.
‘When I was younger I didn’t know what it was to look at a woman and want to fall to my knees,’ he told her. ‘When I was younger I didn’t know a woman could make me feel powerful and powerless in the same breath. When I was younger, I didn’t know a woman could bring me back from the darkness.’ Thea exhaled shakily. ‘A woman can do all of that?’ ‘Not any woman. There is only one. There has only ever been one.’
She burned so bright for him, and he burned with her, fucking her, loving her with all he could give her.
He looked at Thea one last time. ‘I love you,’ he whispered, knowing that there was no going back from what he was about to do.