Glow of the Everflame (Kindred's Curse, #2)

by Penn Cole

For every spark that has lost its light and needs a little help remembering how to glow.

“First of all,” I clipped, “since you’ve always insisted on the importance of titles, you may refer to me as Your Majesty or my Queen.” His mouth tightened. “Of course. Apologies, my Queen.”

“And why wait for the Challenging? I’ll take you on any day, any time, Prince.”

“I should put all four of your heads on a pike for treason. I just assaulted the Queen, and you cowards stood there and watched me do it. The next time someone lays a hand on her and you don’t kill them where they stand, I’ll carve out your eyeballs and feed them to the fucking hounds. It doesn’t matter if it’s me or the Regent or Blessed Mother Lumnos herself. Do your damn jobs and protect our Queen.”

Strength could be fueled by love just as easily as hate.

“They want us to feel small, Eleanor. They want us to be quiet, be predictable, be unimportant, behave. Then they make us think we deserve it. But I think they’re just terrified we’ll stop listening to them and start listening to each other. And do you know why they’re so scared of women like us?”

“But rest assured, my Queen, when I do kiss you, there will be no confusion. You will know that I have claimed you—and I won’t have any desire to deny it.”

Not if I kiss you. Not in the rare and unlikely event I kiss you. When I kiss you.

“That if a man made you doubt whether his love for you would survive anything, he does not deserve you.”

“If a kiss is the reward, my Queen, I’ll get on my knees for you whenever you want.”

“A scar is a sign of survival,” I continued. “Of endurance. It’s a sign that its bearer triumphed over what might have killed a lesser person. To show off your scars is to tell the world you’re not ashamed of what you’ve overcome. Frankly, I can’t imagine any better symbol of strength. And if Luther were my King, then I would make him swear to me he would never remove it. I would hope he wore it with pride for the rest of his life.”

“Tell me then, my Queen, how would you like me to serve you?”

“Shall I get back down on my knees until I earn another kiss?”

“We may be vipers, but you’re no mouse. You’re a fucking dragon.”

“Not even if you despise me. Not even if I am nothing to you. Because my calling comes from a higher authority than even you can claim, Your Majesty. As she guarded my heart, I will guard over yours. Even if it kills me.”

“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 want to burn alive in that fire in your eyes. I want it to melt me down and forge me into the weapon you need me to be. I want to stand by your side for the rest of my life, and I don’t need you to marry me and make me a fucking king to do it.”

It’s a reminder that no challenge can destroy the parts of us that truly matter. We’re not reborn in the flames. We’re revealed.”

“I would have walked into the flaming heart of the sun itself,” he shot back. “If you are suffering, nothing will keep me from coming to your aid. Least of all something as trivial as death.”

We do not fear the flames, for the hotter we burn, the higher we fly.”

My blood went hot. I wondered if I would ever, in the centuries that I prayed lay ahead of us, get used to the way it felt to be looked at by him.