Alex Aster

It was the most difficult decision I’ve ever made, Hearteater. Knowing that succeeding meant you beguiling someone else. Making you forget our story. Our love.”

“You are enough, little bird. Better than any of them.”

“Why do you care what I think? You barely know me.”

I will come for you. He had said it like a promise.

Grim’s dark eyes flashed with amusement. “Careful, Hearteater,” he whispered, towering over her, standing far too close. “I might just give it to you.”

Her feet kicked air, high above the churning sea. She looked up at him. “Don’t let me fall in.”

His eyes met hers. “Never,” he said.

Isla glared at him.

“Never again,” he amended

“I’m not sure what I enjoy more. Seeing the way you grip a sword . . . or the way your dress grips you.”

“I’m not sure what I enjoy more. Seeing the way you grip a sword . . . or the way your dress grips you.”

Did he mean to embarrass her?

Or seduce the seductress?

His dark eyes seemed to get even darker as they met hers, and he said, “I’m not sure what I enjoy more. Seeing the way you grip a sword . . . or the way your dress grips you.”

“And I don’t know what I enjoy more. Replaying the image of my sword against your throat . . . or thinking about how your heart might look on my plate.”

Grim’s dark eyes flashed with amusement. “Careful, Hearteater,” he whispered, towering over her, standing far too close. “I might just give it to you.”