“Look,” he murmured. I didn’t want to. I wanted to watch that smile. But finally, I looked down. There, cradled in my palm, was a tiny, black rosebud, fresh leaves still unfurling. Strange. In the past, I had leveled cities and destroyed entire armies. But none of those things had ever brought me the pride of this single, tiny flower. Something created only by me. Something alive. “Perfect.” And when I glanced up at Caduan, he was not looking at the flower—he was looking at me.
CADUAN, I DON'T LIKE YOU BUT DAMN
