A Light in the Flame (Flesh and Fire, #2)

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

Seraphena. I could count on one hand how many people called me by my full name, and none of them spoke it like he did. As if it were a prayer and a reckoning.

“Sometimes, it is best to not know if or when the end is coming,” Penellaphe advised.

“I can sense your need. Feel it. Taste it. You’re drowning in it.” His eyes slammed shut. “I’m fucking drowning in it.” A sharp dart of desire sliced through me. “Then drown with me.”

“Fuck,” Nyktos growled, his breath hot against my cheek. “You will be the death of me.”

“Daddy Nyktos is not happy,” Ector murmured.

“Everyone deserves fresh water to bathe themselves in, and to do so in peace.”

Forgiveness benefits the forgiver, and it’s easy. Understanding is acceptance, and that is far harder.”

“Just because someone shares the same bloodline as you doesn’t mean they deserve your time or thoughts.”

Love can breathe life and inspiration into one, and the loss of it can rot and taint the mind of another.

“Nothing is more powerful, more life and realm-altering than the ability to feel. To experience emotion. Love. Hate. Desire. To care for oneself. To care for another.”

“And what is it that I deserve?” “Someone who loves you, unconditionally and irrevocably. Someone who had the courage to allow themselves to feel that,” he said.

“I feel too many things. Curiosity and excitement that remind me of what I think yearning must feel like. Need. Want,” he said roughly, his voice low. “Amusement at times. Sometimes, even anger. But always awe. I am always in awe of you. I could keep going, but most of all, what I feel is the closest thing to peace I’ve ever experienced.”

I glanced at him, and my silly heart swelled so fiercely that my breath snagged.

“Blood. The strength of life. Ash. The bravery of death. Life and Death, if taken literally.”