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That pain…that despair that you are feeling right now…that gaping wound…it will forever leave a deep scar. But even though you might not believe me now, you will survive it. You will be able to breathe freely again one day…Try to not let the grief drown you.” Like it almost drowned me.
Every war has a price—yes, one I would not recompense with the lives of many. But one I would gladly pay with my own.
I was Finnleah, Daughter of the Dead. I was a survivor. I was a warrior. I had endured this far, and I would endure more. Now and forever. I would not yield.
It wouldn’t matter if she stabbed me straight through my heart right now. Because I’d still feel more alive in this moment than I had ever felt before in my entire life. Alive and eager. And hopeful. Actually, truly hopeful.
A simple truth. I was in love with Finnleah. Deeply, wholeheartedly, entirely.
“When I take you. When I have all of you, I want to know with absolute surety that you’d wake in my bed without a single doubt or regret. And that you want me too. Not just wine-driven sex, but that you want all of me, because I, my goddess, my queen, my little wildfire, I want all of you.”
“Sometimes we hold on to our hurt for so long, that it becomes somewhat of a comfort to us.
“Because I fucking love you, Finnleah! Because my whole soul trembles in your presence, my heart bleeds when you are away, and air burns like acid when you are not close. Because there isn’t a price I wouldn’t pay for you. I’d start a million more wars for you. I’d burn this whole fucking world down if it meant you’d be near.”
