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that penguin holding a knife?” “Yes,” Calladia said. “Stop staring at my tits.” “Stop putting your tits behind interesting pictures.”
“So, my warrior queen, where are we going?” Calladia nearly tripped over her feet. A laugh burst from her. “What did you just call me?” Astaroth gave her a crooked smile. “I was aiming for a new spin on violent harridan that would express the respect element more.”
“You’re more than strong though. You’re funny and loyal and witty. You’re adventurous. You burn, Calladia, and it’s not your failing if other people can’t handle your light.”
“Being strong doesn’t mean winning every battle. Sometimes it means surviving to fight again.”
Love wasn’t trying to force someone to be who you thought they should be. It was loving them as they were while supporting them on their journey toward becoming their best self.
“I’ll never get enough of you,” he said against her lips. “The sun could die and the stars could fall and the earth could rip itself apart, and none of that would matter, so long as you were in my arms.”
“Calladia Cunnington,” Astaroth whispered as she drifted off, “you’re my miracle.”
