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Choking and spluttering, I tried desperately to get rid of it, but it wasn’t going anywhere. Kingfisher leaned forward, his tongue running over his teeth again. He smiled suggestively as he said, “Swallow.”
“I don’t hate your kind. I’m just disappointed by how breakable you are. If I held you down and fucked you the way I’m imagining fucking you right now, I doubt that you’d survive it.”
SIR🥵🥵
“That your body is betraying you in other ways. That I can smell you, Little Osha, and I’m thinking about drinking the sweet nectar you’re making for me straight from the fucking cup.”
Im dead
“I’ll happily kiss all of your aches and pains better for you once we strike camp. I’ve been told my mouth has healing properties. Especially when administered between a pair of thighs.”
“I’d know the smell of you anywhere. On anyone. I’d know it blind and in the dark. Across a fucking sea. I’d be able to scent you—”
“I could probably use a sho—” “Do not fucking dare finish that sentence,” he snarled. “I don’t want a mouthful of soap and perfume. I want to taste you.”
Well, damn!
“I’m sorry, are you just permanently on the brink of a nervous breakdown, or have I shown up at an inconvenient time for you?” I sniped.
“Something I’m sure I’ve given him innumerable reasons to regret since. He made me his brother. By blood. He gave me a part of his soul.”
THEORY!!! Saeris almost dies and Fisher gives away more of his soul to save her. Maybe she becomes fae because of it or her life span is now the same as his
Every warrior in Irrín will smell me on you, Fisher’s voice rumbled in my mind. I’m going to make you hoarse from screaming my fucking name. I’m going to mark you in every way imaginable, so that everyone knows you’re fucking mine.
“Nobody will ever fuck you the way I’m about to fuck you, Saeris Fane. I’m about to introduce you to all seven gods. When you meet them, don’t forget to tell them I’m the one you worship on your knees.”
“I’ll be grateful for every second that I can say that I belong to you, Saeris Fane. Eighty years or eighteen hours. It doesn’t matter to me. It’ll still be the highest honor of my life.
“I’m in love with you, Saeris Fane,” he whispered quietly into my hair. “And I’m already half-mad, anyway. What’s a little complicated thrown into the mix?”
“I play back,” Fisher spat. “It might not be today, but oh, I am coming to find you, Madra. Fear the shadows, bitch. I’m made of them. One night soon, I’ll climb out of one and slit your fucking throat.”
Go off baby
“I won’t help you,” I spat. “I can’t. I can only work with the quicksilver.” Malcolm clucked his tongue—a wet, disgusting sound. “Little girl, your ignorance is shocking.”
Theres 3 different types of alchemists. What if she has the power of all 3?
