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And even if I did want to join her—to end myself and see if our souls might inhabit the same realm once more—I wouldn’t. Not yet.
I would annihilate him.
“My love,” he murmured. “I’m here.”
No. Absolutely not. I’d wanted to tell him, Fuck no, and frankly, fuck you for even asking.
That was my dragon.
“But maybe…if everything we face, we face together, the pieces will grow back even stronger.”
“Easy,” he said, voice husky and low, though I could feel his lips grinning against mine. “Let me take my time with you.”
“There you go,” he murmured.
“Shh,” he soothed. “Relax.”
“More,” I breathed. “Harder.” “No,”
“Just breathe,” he soothed.
“You’re almost there, bird,” Kane coaxed. “Don’t force it.”
“Because they want to fuck, witch,” Griffin said, nodding at Kane and me.
“And yet, you’re terribly needy, aren’t you?”
“Shh,” he murmured. “You’re all right.”
“In life, in death, my soul is yours. Arwen, will you be my wife?”
“Must I tether you to this bed, my king?” Gods have mercy. “I’ll be good.”
If she choked me with them I’d probably come.
“After I had more fun trapped inside a wine cellar than I’d had in two hundred years of living.”
“Everyone is capable of redemption.”
“For us”—Kane shrugged, thumb dragging softly over my skin—“I think it’s just the beginning.”