“I am your ruin. The shadow that consumes your light. The curse that has damned your soul.” A tendril of her hair taunted him, the way it cascaded over the delicate curve of her shoulder. How silky and soft it might’ve felt between his calloused fingertips. “I’m told you’ve yet to be born. That the gods will choose your fate. But I will not let you burn. I will shield you from their flame.”
