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“Because I’m fun. Hey Diem, is Luther in there? Are you two doing something naughty?”
Though dark clouds lingered in his eyes, he rolled his shoulders and flashed me a wicked look. “I heard you threw a punch at old lady Hanoverre.” My jaw hung open. “Is that what people are saying?” “I heard you made her get down on her knees and beg for your forgiveness.” “What!? No, gods, there was nothing like—” “Then I heard you kicked Iléana right in the tits. The left one.” “Alright, now I know you’re lying.” “And then you pulled Jean’s pants down so everyone could see his tiny—” “Taran,” I shouted, laughing.
“You are my Queen, and I am your sword. Point me at your enemies, and watch them fall. Lead this world, Diem, and I will follow you—into war, into death, into the tundra of hell itself.” He took my palm and set it against his chest, just above the patch of unscarred skin that lay beneath his jacket. “You are the fate my heart was spared for. As long as it beats, you will never fight alone.”
He let out a shuddering sigh. “And I have failed. Completely, irreversibly failed. I don’t just want a piece of you—I want them all.” His thumb raked across my lower lip. “I want every breath, every laugh, every tear. Every taste of your mouth, every inch of your skin. I want to kneel at your feet, soaked in the blood of your enemies, then worship your body until you scream my name.” His hands slid to my hips and tugged me closer. “Yes, Diem, I want to serve you—in every way a man can.” I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.
“When are you and Luther going to put all of us out of our misery and fuck each other already?” “Taran,” I choked. “Descended men are bigger than mortal men, you know.
