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423 pages, Kindle Edition
First published June 30, 2024
He had felt small before, all his life, but on the ground with Brokil lording over him like a statue carved of marble, he was truly powerless.
Silvyr still wouldn’t look at him. Brokil wanted to reach out and grab his face to force him to look. Wanted to poke and prod until he figured out what made the boy burn.
Yes, he decided, he could die between Silvyr’s legs with the taste of ambrosia on his tongue.
He should stop talking. He shouldn't let this man know his weaknesses, or know that he was comfortable here. He shouldn't be. Regardless of where he was, the floor or the bed, he was Brokil's captive. But Silvyr was a fool, and he wanted so desperately to feel like he belonged somewhere.
“Touch me,” he breathed. “Where?” “Everywhere, please.”
“I’m so sorry, Silvyr. I’m so sorry, my Little Flower.” “I don’t want to be away from you again,” Silvyr told him, his bottom lip quivering. “Please, I want to stay with you.” “Then stay with me,” Brokil said, knowing the words should have never left his mouth. He did not regret them. “Stay with me, Silvyr.”
More than the nightmares, I dreamt of you,”
“Tell me you’re mine, Little Flower.” “I’m yours,” Silvyr moaned against his lips, keeping one hand in Brokil’s hair, the other clawing desperately at his back. “Forever. I promised you, and I meant it.” “Forever,” Brokil agreed.