“This is…cosy,” Azriel said, turning slowly to take in the blank walls and blanker floor. “Your taste is very…minimal.” “My taste is fire and ruin tempered by the kiss of a woman who has always and will always be out of my league,” I growled, and the room promptly provided an enormous fireplace with a roaring fire, my battle axe hanging on the mantle above it. No Roxy though.
