“I loathe you,” he said through curled lips. His breath warmed Cassian’s mouth. Desire saturated in his bloodstream, slurring the voice of reason begging him to disappear—to go home and never chase after the young god again. Yet, all he could focus on was Finnian’s fingers bruising his skin. “I loathe you just as much,” Cassian whispered. I long for you, is what he wanted to say instead.
