A companion," he whispered against her mouth. "A lover." He nibbled at her bottom lip, and his hand slid from her nape to cup the back of her head. "A beloved wife.
Grace DravenHe loved her to the point of madness, to obsession and even sacrifice. He wasn't Berdikhan, and he wouldn't make her Zafira. He'd rob her of her Gift, but she'd live. If he had to destroy Corruption, Conclave and himself, she'd live.
Grace DravenAnd will you love me for a day? A year? A lifetime?" She knew the answer but wanted to hear him say it in that beautiful, shattered voice.
"Beyond that," he whispered, eyes shining with the tempest of emotion he'd held in check until now. "Beyond the reign of false gods and meddlesome priests. Beyond al Zafira when her bright stars fade.
You have done an unwise thing, Martise of Asher,” he said softly. “You’ve caught my interest.
Grace DravenTag: intrigue asher martise silhara
Martise, lower your knife. There are more than a few people eager to carve out my heart. You'll have to take your place in line.
Grace DravenTag: martise silhara grace-draven master-of-crows
I don't need you on your back for anything Martise, unless you want to go star-gazing with me.
Grace DravenTag: martise silhara grace-draven master-of-crows
He snagged two more pieces of wood from her load for good measure. "Martise, bearing children is woman's work. Gurn and I would be sitting in the dark every night if we waited for some wandering female to pick up sticks for us.
Grace DravenTag: martise silhara grace-draven master-of-crows gurn
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