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“Spark the flames, Ever.” “Ignite the infernos,” I answer automatically. “Ash the embers,”
“Careful, Spare, or I’ll think you like me,” I taunt, needing space between us but not wanting to step back and make him think I’m retreating. “Careful, Claws, or I just might.”
“True. Maybe I’ve been staring at the dark for too long and it’s time to look for the light.”
“Spark the flames you need to see by, dragoness,”
“Spark the flames. Ignite the infernos. Ash the embers.”
“I Name you Ever Tenebrae, daughter of King Merik Tenebrae, and the last Syphon.”
He savors the phrase, plays with it on his tongue like he can’t get enough of the flavor. It’s both a taunt and an invitation, one I’d suddenly like to RSVP to.
“Cut me. Hurt me. Destroy me. I’ll happily bleed for you, Ever. Every drop is yours already.”
