“There you go again. Hungry, needy little bitch in heat, begging to be fucked…” he taunted. “Let. Go!” “LIIIIISTENNN!!” Kingfisher’s roar snatched my breath away. It snatched the light, too. The whole forge went black as pitch in an instant, and the pain in my hand, traveling up my arm, turned into a rope of fire. “There is you, and there is the pain. Nothing else,” he whispered. “Move past it. Move through it. Let it roll over you.”
I LOVE THE SARCASAM
