i am the mace, the map, the fall and the high
It’s there again, that knowledge that he should feel guilty. He should, and yet he does not. Of the many facets that make up the stallion Reave is, Israfel has seen so few of them. Would she feel the same if she knew of the dangerous games he plays outside the peaceful confines of this windswept peninsula?
If he were a better man, he would warn her to guard her heart. But he is not a better man. There is a selfishness in him that wants her brightness all for himself. He is not an easy creature, but for today, they could pretend.
So he grins that wicked grin, blue eyes bright and voracious as he surveys her. As he hoards her loveliness for himself.
They have reached the summit, but Reave is too consumed by the new intensity blooming between them to do more than draw her to a halt. They have time for sweeping vistas and stunning views later, but he does not want to lose the threads of her admission to them.
For a moment, he simply looks at her, a roguish smile teasing the corners of his lips. His gem-bright eyes remain intent and focused even when he finally speaks. “You have no idea how much it pleases me to hear that,” he murmurs, voice barely more than a low rumble as he steps closer. This is not a conversation to have with space between them. He had seen the threads of confusion mingled with the pleasure curling through her at the compliment. The innocence in that pulls at him. Young he may be, but he had lost any innocence he might have once claimed the day he’d been born. With his lips hovering over her skin, not quite close enough to touch yet close enough to feel the fan of his breath, he asks, “And what does it mean coming from me?”
reave
@Israfel