The Ippos King (Wraith Kings, #3)

by Grace Draven

Gladness sang through her that he chose to join her, but she pushed it down. Such foolery was reserved for the drunken hours after too many pints in an alehouse and no bedmate to help stave off melancholy self-reflection. It had no place here where the darkness that was more than darkness inhaled, exhaled, and waited.

Besides, it isn't a weakness to feel sadness. Whoever boasts they haven't been touched by sorrow or tragedy is lying. We grieve because we still remember what it is to feel.”

“So my reward for living will be dying from swiving you at a later date?” She tapped his shoulder with one claw. “Don't presume. It will be me swiving you.” She stroked his matted hair, fingers catching in the strands stuck together with dried blood. “A reward for the pair of us. And I'm not in the habit of killing my lovers. You'll live.” She winked. “Barely.”