Spark the Flames (Secret of the Syphon #1)

by Ivy Asher

“I’ll see you soon, Ens,” I lie, and she smiles and pretends she believes it. “Soon,” she repeats, her voice cracking under the deluge of anguish I see rising in her gaze. “Spark the flames, Ever.” “Ignite the infernos,” I answer automatically. “Ash the embers,” we both say at the same time, a small chuckle escaping us as we finish the chant we’ve exchanged back and forth since we were kids.

“Who.” Aeson takes another step. “Did.” And another. “This.”

It feels like a kick to the gut, but I know there’s no getting around it. I got comfortable here, forgot my place for a little while, and just did something that could’ve blown our cover. I’m not exactly the epitome of warm and fuzzy; now I’m going to have to hug a few other random people just to cover our asses.

And feel free to press a little closer. I’ve never been buttered before; the sheer anticipation is doing all kinds of things for me.”

“Oh, we do…from time to time, but I promise you don’t want to be on the receiving end of that seriousness. Better to stay on this side of things. Keep it light and breezy, ya know? Fewer people usually die that way. Well, with the exception of that one time in that one bar, but they started it.”

“Don’t start with me, Spare, I’m not in the mood,” I snap. So much for my plan to get all flirty and start winning him over. Shit. I’ll have to try again tomorrow.

“They can’t have you,” he rumbles dangerously. “Great,” I snark, rubbing my neck. “I’ll be sure to let the Tainted know that the next time I see them. No doubt they’ll apologize profusely and immediately leave the city, never to be seen again. My hero!”

Don’t let him set the pace, Ducky.”

“It says you breached a hard limit. You were disqualified when you…uh…bit the commander.”

Death and I have an unspoken agreement. We like to flirt and toy with one another, but we keep it cutesy and never go all the way.

“Spark the flames you need to see by, dragoness,” Nixy says evenly.

“You got your asses kicked by…butterflies,” I howl, pointing at the guards before bending at the waist to help me breathe between guffaws. “I’d hardly call it an ass kicking,” Julian grumbles as he studies the already healing cuts on his hands. “What would you call it then?” I titter. “A butterfly beatdown?”

“Do you claim her as clan, kith, or kindred, Scion Noctis?” the king proudly asks his son. “I, Aeson Noctis, claim Ever Tenebrae as my mate,” he answers smoothly, and I wonder if they rehearsed this.

“Cut me. Hurt me. Destroy me. I’ll happily bleed for you, Ever. Every drop is yours already.”

An extra loud moan cuts off his threat, and I throw my head back like I’m on the cusp of a life-shattering orgasm. “This could have been you, Spare,” I taunt as I ride my own fingers. “Don’t worry, I’ll send a wish you were here postcard to your blue balls when I’m done.”