Sawtooth Spire He's a man of few words, but he talks a lot within.

nyx swept forward, a new intensity charging her usual mellow nature. he sought her in the darkness, eyelids at half-mast as he allowed himself to be stirred, commanded. there was an intrinsic pleasure in being chosen this way, mahler decided, desire warming to life in his tall figure.
nyx did not wish him for a mate. she did not wish to own his love as had the fairy. their coupling, then, was unfettered by the mess of emotion that oft accompanied such things, and he was grateful for the reprieve. contractual, certainly. unfeeling — it would do neither of them well to be cold with one another.
he nipped the hollow of her throat with a low growl vibrating in his throat.