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“I never met a rule I didn’t wanna break, Sunshine.”
“Even filthy and tired, you’re still beautiful.”
The only feather mattress I’d ever slept on in my whole life was Carrion Swift’s, and this bed didn’t belong to that asshole, either.
Where was I, and what the five hells was happening?
What in all five hells!
Tattoos writhed and shifted like smoke across every patch of visible skin, creeping up the back of his neck and swirling over the backs of his hands.
A hint of a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, though it never materialized.
“It’s rude to stare at a male’s hardware,” he said stiffly.
She pressed her fingers into her forehead, screwing her eyes shut for a moment, completely not fine.
Show me that you’re tougher than I think you are.”
When I opened my eyes, he was looking at the solid bead of matte, inert metal in my hands, a look of wry amusement on his irritatingly handsome face.
“Admittedly, I do enjoy when a female kneels for me, but in this particular case…”
“I’m hungover,” he announced. “The sun is trying to crack my skull open, which is making me very unfriendly.
“For the love of every god that has ever been or ever will be, could you please lower your voice?”
“You could at least say hello before you start eye-fucking me.”
His eyes danced with mirth. It was criminal that such astonishing eyes belonged to such a bastard.
“Are your kind supposed to nap in the afternoons? You’re really grumpy.
It was easy hating Kingfisher when he was being a bastard, but in this moment, he appeared very un-bastard-like, and that was… confusing.
But, of all the beautiful things I had seen, Fisher was the most beautiful of all.
But Fisher was the epitome of everything that was strong, and male, and powerful.
Fisher grinned so hard that a small dimple appeared, forming a deep groove in his cheek. A godscursed dimple
“Rule number three. Do not make me do any physical activity,” he snarled. “What part of ‘I am hungover’ did you not fucking understand!”
Congratulations on achieving fucking sainthood.”
“Nothing you can say or do will incentivize me to smash my genitals against this saddle any harder or faster than they’re already being smashed.”
But it turns out you’ve got jokes!
This idiot really did think I was weak.
“You, my friend, are officially fucked.
To me, Kingfisher was a surly, foul-mouthed bastard who I wouldn’t piss on even if he was on fire. To everyone inside this tavern, he was a living fucking god.
“It’d be a real shame to have to pinch you, but I’m getting bored, and this rabid animal keeps showing me its teeth.”
“There’s every way,” Fisher rumbled, his eyes darkening. “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
am the thing that exists on the other side of the dark. I’m the thing that puts the fear of the gods into the monsters who would eat you bones and all.”
Fuck me. That smile. Slightly open-mouthed, flashing the smallest hint of pointed teeth. I had to be so, so careful around that smile. It would wreck me if I let it.
Fuck. I really didn’t have it in me to back down from a challenge…
“She’s mine,” Fisher said.
If Carrion’s plan was to poke the bear, then he sure as hell knew how to go about it.
“Because she is moonlight. The mist that shrouds the mountains. The bite of electricity in the air before a storm.
Only this time, he was holding on to me for dear life. He didn’t let go.
“I always know where you are, Little Osha.”
THE FORGE WAS hotter than the fifth burning pit of hell.
A wave of hot emotion knifed me in the center of my chest. This was the kind of male I wanted to be with.
“Don’t you dare die on my watch, Saeris Fane! Fisher will never forgive me if his sole reason for living is torn to pieces on her first fucking battlefield.”
You’re the chink in my armor, Saeris. The soft spot where the knife slides in.
They glow blue and pink and silver, with an ethereal light.
But you are stronger than you can ever know. You will not falter. And you will not face it all alone.’”
He would claim my better days and carry me during my worst.
The outstretched wings of a majestic bird, flashing metallic blue and green, fanned around either side of his neck, unique and stunning.
“I fucking hate spiders,” he said.
I remembered pieces of him, and all at once, and I remembered how to drown. I needed him like I needed air.
“You had better pull through this, Oshellith,” I told her. “For better or for worse, I get the feeling that you’re about to turn everything upside down.”
