The Sunspire [m] carved teeth

To hold the flame for even a moment, rather than eternity, was something he knew would have to be enough. They lay tangled—and he felt a rumble of a chuckle in his throat as she reached for him again, still unsatiated—a wild tempest that he was all too willing to give in to.

He pulled her to him once more—a snap of teeth and hips to unite them as one again—and again. “Is tusa a’ ghrian,” he murmured to her, taking, for the moment, that this could be their life. Ignoring, that it would never be able to.