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Sometimes, objects shook around me. Objects made of iron, tin, or gold.
Carrion Swift: the most notorious gambler, cheat, and smuggler in the entire city.
He was also uncommonly good in bed—the only man in Zilvaren who’d ever made me scream his name out of pleasure rather than frustration.
Lmao
“Saeris, if I knew I could buy your time, I’d be bankrupt, and you would be a very rich woman.
“Heretical… magic!”
The darkness took me before the silver could.
The Fae were warmongers. Cannibals. Beastly creatures with no temperance, sense of morality, nor any notion of mercy. The eldest Immortals visited their wrath upon the land with an iron fist, leaving a path of chaos and destruction in their wake. The seven cities rejoiced when—
“Bane of Gillethrye.” “Black knight.” “Kingfisher.” “Kingfisher.” “Kingfisher.” The name Kingfisher echoed throughout the hall, spoken with a mix of reverence and fear. “He lives!” “He’s returned!”
“Humans are usually weak, fickle creatures, but I’ll admit, I admire this one’s loyalty. She values her family over everything else.
“It’s big enough to make you scream and then some.”
“Bad human,”
“Careful, human. We Fae have an excellent sense of smell. You’d be amazed what we can scent floating on the air.”
