Hart Callie

“Ahh, y’know. A little childhood trauma here. Pinch of PTSD there. The usual…”

“I'd know the smell of you anywhere. On anyone. I'd know it blind and in the dark. Across a fucking sea. I'd be able to scent you—”

“I'd know the smell of you anywhere. On anyone. I'd know it blind and in the dark. Across a fucking sea. I'd be able to scent you—”

“I'd know the smell of you anywhere. On anyone. I'd know it blind and in the dark. Across a fucking sea. I'd be able to scent you—”

“Because she is moonlight. The mist that shrouds the mountains. The bite of electricity in the air before a storm. The smoke that rolls across a battlefield before the killing starts. You have no idea what she is. What she could be. You should call her Majesty.”

“Because she is moonlight. The mist that shrouds the mountains. The bite of electricity in the air before a storm. The smoke that rolls across a battlefield before the killing starts. You have no idea what she is. What she could be. You should call her Majesty.”

“I give you my blood in thanks, Saeris Fane.”

“I give you my blood in thanks, Saeris Fane.”

And sometimes, that's just how things were supposed to be. There were moments that were gifts, meant to be

cherished only for as long as you could remember them.