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It was important to note that Xander did not brood—brooding was for melancholic blood mages with black hair and blacker perspectives.
dying things grew desperate the closer they got to keeling over.
On the inside, he was almost exactly the same save for a growing tug in his chest that had no business doing any tugging at all, unfortunate but also expected since this is only chapter six.
The blood mage remembered it plainly because the sensation had been so strange. He’d certainly seen hugging but to experience it?
sometimes one had to take a wound to deal something much greater—
Xander Shadowhart had enjoyed all sorts of sexual escapades in his thirty years, but no one had ever made love to him until that night.
Because Xander would kill for Evangeline, he knew it then. Sure, he liked killing, but only when it suited him, when it was the most convenient course of action, when it made sense. But if she asked—or really, even if she didn’t—he would have committed any number of atrocities in her name.
