Duskbound

by Bree Grenwich

So as change typically goes, I abandoned what I once clung to. Darkness became a relic, and I turned my back on shadows in favor of the light. Never once did I think they’d return to claim me.

Looking at him felt like stepping too close to the sun.

Gentle beasts as long as they have their freedom.”

little." He said it so matter-of-factly, I bit back a grin. "But my mom always used to say that being scared just means you're about to do something really brave.

"So you admit you're a recluse?" "I prefer the term selective socializer."

"I'm not hiding, I'm..." I searched for the right word. "Strategically avoiding conversation. And responsibility."

You're weak, the shadows snarled. You could be infinite. "I'd rather be myself," I whispered, and felt the truth of it burn through my veins.

They'd rewritten history, buried the truth beneath layers of carefully constructed lies.

It was easier being Fia Riftborne, the orphan who carved out her own place in the world, albeit how small and suffocating that once was. Being Fiandrial Valtýr, heir to a throne I never knew existed... that felt like drowning in someone else's life.

I'm learning there's a difference between peace and emptiness."

"Loneliness requires knowing what you're missing." His voice was soft, almost distant. "And I didn't, not then."

Suddenly he was moving, and my world narrowed to nothing but him. His arms wrapped around me as my lips found his, and the sky split open.

His fingers threaded through my soaked hair, and something in his gaze made my heart stutter. Like I was both salvation and damnation. Like I was everything.

The way he looked at me—like I was something sacred—made my skin flush, made me feel like I was burning from the inside out. Like I was the only thing in his world worth looking at.

"Thirty years of feeling nothing, and now..." His words dissolved into a moan as I shifted against him. "You're destroying me."

My name escaped his lips like a prayer as our shadows merged completely, dancing together in perfect synchronization. The darkness amplified everything—every touch, every movement, every shared breath between us. "Fall with me," he growled

He pressed his forehead to mine, our breaths mingling. "I've never wanted anything the way I want you." "Then have me," I whispered.

“People worship at altars, correct?” I nodded, feeling almost dizzy. “Your hips can be mine.”

If this was how stars died—in fire and fury and perfect destruction—then let me blaze with them until there’s nothing left but the endless dark.

"Tell me," he demanded, though his own voice was ragged. "Tell me what you need." “Fall with me,” I breathed,

Let me shatter. Let me break. He would catch every piece.