On his belt rested the ivory hilt of his dagger, and when he drew it, my muscles tensed, the memory of the blade’s tip at my heart still vivid. But the blade did not touch me. Stepping to my side, Ravyn took the rose by the base and lifted it from the bramble of thorns, freeing it with a single cut. He held it for a moment and said nothing, the silence between us loud enough to drown out even the most enthusiastic morning birds.
Oh he’s a lover boy omg 😩🤧🫠
