Shadow Mountain Wire

“I will… for you.”

Consciously, Winter’s Wake filled Lestan’s summersweet vow with whatever words his vanity could conjure:

For me. You will heal for me. Sing for me. Dance for me. Hurt for me. Bow for me. Want for me. Come for me. Hunger for me, starve for me, thirst for me, lie for me, cry for me, hate for me, love for me, rise for me live for me die for me die for me die for me—!

And shining is only the beginning, the devil hummed. My Mayfair.

A slow blink, the warm brush of his exhale, an electric current traveling between them, the tease of a touch that never arrived.

Come, he beckoned. I wish to show you my summer mountain. I will name it after you, and no one else shall know it as we do.