When I think of him pouring fire into the forest, burning his attackers, burning Brayda’s face—and when I remember him pounding into me, releasing inside me—I feel sick. I’ve never done anything this morally questionable in my life. I’m good. It’s who I am, who I’m proud to be. I help people, I don’t screw cruel, wicked kings on the floor amid the aftermath of our clashing magic. It can’t happen again.
