Her blood is fire-spiced and intoxicating, and the bond snaps tight with a blinding force.
She shudders violently, her body locking around me as her release crashes through her, and the sensation drags me over the edge with her.
I come undone in a white-hot inferno.
Flame consumes us both—pure, obliterating, eternal.
And if this is all I am allowed—tonight, this one night with this woman, this single moment—then I will burn it into eternity.
Permanently.
Reverently.
And gods help anyone who dares reach for her when dawn comes—because I will reduce this world, and maybe all the others too, to ash before I let her be taken from me.
Chapter 10
Delia
Morning, Ashfell
I barely had time to breathe before Thorne was being summoned.
A message—carried by fire, no less, a whisper of flame spiraling in through the hearth and forming a sigil in the air—called him to The Ember Vein.
The name alone prickled along my spine.
The Ember Vein is the lifeblood of this realm.
A mine, but not like anything Earth had.
It pulses beneath the crust of Nightfall like a living artery, channeling raw magical ore that powered the Forges, the wards, the weapons—the dreams, even, Thorne said while dressing.
If the SoulTakers are targeting it, everything is at risk.
“I’m coming with you,” I say before I could think better of it.
Thorne’s head lifts slowly from where he’s studying a map. His gaze burning right through me.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You are not ready.”
“I don’t care.”
He takes a step towards me. Then another.
“It could be dangerous.”
“So could this,” I whisper, gesturing to the embers still flickering midair. “And I’m still here. I’m not made of glass.”
He doesn’t speak.
Doesn’t snarl.
He doesn’t even scowl.
