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‘And this is Wilder Hawthorne.’
‘If you need words of comfort, perhaps remember this: there are all kinds of darkness in this world. Some good, some bad, and some with no agenda at all. It’s what that darkness means to you and what you do with it yourself that matters most.’
Sometimes, to love someone, we have to let them go. And that sometimes, in order to go where we need to, we must turn away from one path, onto another…’
‘Touch her again,’ he said, leaning in, crushing Coltan to the wall behind him, ensuring the punishing grip mirrored his words. ‘And you die.’
With you, I didn’t fall in love. I rose amid it, stronger than ever before.’ Talemir took a trembling breath, baring his soul like he never had. ‘I love you against all reason.’
‘If it’s not enough,’ he managed, bowing to unsheathe the dagger in his boot and, on one knee, pressing it into her hands, ‘then carve out my heart, Wildfire. It’s yours.’
Love didn’t happen once, she realised. It happened every day, in little moments, in the quiet gaps between grand words, in the lingering touches, in the hope it promised in the dark. Love was something that breathed and expanded, that was made and remade, again and again, reforged only to become stronger.
