I’m at the center of this, a weird possessive feud between the Winter king and the Cordellan prince.
Horrible things don’t happen in crowded places; they happen in the hollows of the world.
Even the smallest of groups could inflict damage.
Use id not a right, Queen Meira – it is a privilege.
Readiness is a type of choice, being prepared and accepting of things to come...
He is an anchor too. Something to hold on to when all other things drag me down.
This was the difference between a free kingdom and slavery, happiness and misery, life and death.
To break one’s mask in the presence of someone you reject is an act of permanent separation. To say that you are finished with them in your life, so much so that you do not worry about them seeing your true face. You’ll never see them again, so your secrets are nothing in their hands.
In a burst of movement I’m up the crates, scaling the wall, and rolling onto the tiles of the roof next to me, a handful of stories in the air.
It feels so wrong and yet so wonderful, how much I need to smile at him. Something.
I stop, staring into the teardrop-shaped room, my heartbeat an alive and determined creature trying to claw its way out of my throat.
Theron cocks up a corner of his mouth, studying me in a way that doesn’t feel possessive or condescending. It feels equal. Warmth.
Hooves pound behind me, shouts and curses follow, and I make a mental note to always, always put a knife in my sleeve when I go on missions. The.
It makes me feel both strong and weak at the same time, like I could lean too much on him, on the support he’s offering, and lose myself behind him. After.
Kari stood only a few paces away, but she felt out of reach, fading farther and farther beyond an ocean of regret and pain.
I refuse to let him go, not like this, not while I will always, always need him.
Most cathartic things are morbid.
Healing through melancholy.
There will always remain differences that can’t be glossed over with smooth words.
Unification should be the overall theme of a relationship.
How can I love him, I ask, when I’m not even sure I love me yet?