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Cvareh would trade his soul for a well-tailored pair of trousers and tastefully matching shoulder adornments.
Cvareh stared at the decorative hem of his pants, patterns of leaves woven and cut into the edge. He debated quietly with the fabric until he had a decent answer.
Change did not happen overnight, birthed from plots of wishes. It grew from the grit of sacrifice and blood.
she knew she’d truly been ruined by Arianna when cold pragmatism was suddenly the sexiest thing in the world to her.
“You think I’m not used to this?” Her mouth curled into a mad grin. “I’ve been fighting my way out of the darkness my whole life. And you’re not going to stop me now.”
All his lust, all the lust in the world, would be nothing if she didn’t burn for him in return.
“Nothing, Arianna. Nothing in your world or mine, or the next, would make me want you less.”
That smile, sharp canines and all, was more dangerous than it had ever been. She hooked a hand on his neck and brought her mouth to it. Arianna wanted to taste the flavor of hope again.
As she started down the hall, her hands running over her winch box, the bottom of her coat flapped about her calves and she felt like a bloody god.
She would not take her revenge in the clothes of a Dragon. She would do it with every advantage she had stitched into herself during every hardship she had survived over the years.
Twenty gods above, this woman was the only creature he’d ever met for whom tearing off his flesh was a step in the right direction toward the return of stability and sanity.
