“Elyria,” he murmured into her ear, his voice low. “That’s enough.” She didn’t react. He lifted his hand. Paused. Drew it back. Then, with as gentle a touch as he could manage, he placed two fingers on the side of her chin and turned her face toward him. Magic sparked where their skin met, sending a shock zipping through Cedric. Elyria too, from the sudden way her arm fell, her shadow dissipating into nothing.”
―
Gretchen Powell Fox,
Smoke and Scar