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But when you combine it with some other pretty ordinary herbs, say the shredded bark of the tarsilla bush, it becomes a deadly poison, and tarsilla grows all along your beaches.” I lean down, careful not to jostle my ribs, so I’m at his eye level. “Ask me why we’re going to fly out of here without you saying a single word.” “Why?” he grinds out. “Because you love your sons.”
“That’s impossible.” Faris shakes his head. “Someone would have seen.” “Not when that dragon is an irid.”
“The eyes. I should have recognized your eyes. You’re Asher Daxton’s girl.”
Kiralair follows, then moves to Sila’s side, shouldering some of the gryphon’s weight. Sila strains for one more step, like she can reach Trager if she just tries hard enough. But her ankles give, then her shoulders, and she collapses, her beak sliding down Kira’s side before her head slams into the ground.
And expel another piece of my humanity.
“Aaric agreed to terms, which were oddly favorable to us. They’ll send an advance party within the next couple of months and the rest of their troops whenever we’re ready to receive all forty thousand of them.”
“She is the criterion.” The other five flinch and draw back.
I’ve seen things he never will, touched pieces of history he didn’t know existed. Just like my father.
“She was with them—their lightning wielder. I’d guess that’s how the textile fire started, and probably what took out the other dragons.”
That’s the vision I’m going to cling to: you and me, holding hands, looking
“He wants to try mending the spot at Basgiath.”
“If I loved you in the way you deserve to be loved, I’d ignore that you’re the only form of peace I’ve ever known and put a thousand miles between us because stable still isn’t whole.” His gaze drops to my mouth. “Instead, I’m here plotting, thinking of every possible way to mitigate the threat I pose so I can tear this very translucent silk from your incredible body and bury myself inside you.”
“I need you to give me the one thing you love breaking.” I force my brain to work through the haze of lust he’s creating. “Control.” “Control.” He nods. “Done.”
“Keeping my hands off you has been the feat of my life
have the power to shred my discipline with a singl...
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“It wouldn’t be the first time I raised a blade to you.” He stares, utterly bewildered, then flashes a grin. “I’m not sure what that says about us.” Is it toxic? Maybe. Is it us? Absolutely.
“You are every fantasy I’ll ever have.”
“I’ve got you,” he promises, his voice hoarse. “My power, my body, my soul—it’s all yours.”