Duskfire Glacier снова увидеть красный цвет

There she was—a vision that could soothe the beast he is, if only for a moment or two. With the same fire and bite that had drawn him close and kept him there. Not quite seduced but enthralled. She is the only woman on this glacier that meets him with grit, with venom. The only one worth pursuing. 

He meets her with a smirk of his own. Eyes shaded as they track her every movement—graceful, but he knows she's lethal. That the ballet she dances could turn deadly within the blink of an eye. And so he joins the dance; circling her, eyes roaming with possessive admiration. 

"You drew no blood, the last time we fought." Voice deep and graveled, laced with intention. His steps are heavy but sure, hands now clean of blood that typically stain them. Only the finest for her—and he hoped her blood may dress him tonight. 

With a chuff, he stands resolute. Thick cords of muscle drawing tight beneath skin, head raised, eyes gleaming with challenge he knew she would meet. Because she always did. "Let's fix that, yes? War comes soon. I need to know you're ready."