Unorthodoxie_

“Negotiator…I am still at your service.” Tival’s lips hovered over Heldon’s, breath warm. He still smelled like the forest after a rain. The hand that caressed his ear brushed back to the back of his head, threading through his hair to his scalp.

To Pine for Pink Opals

Fantasy · Meg Carlyle

Heldon ignored the stupid question. He looked like he’d been hung at a gallows – it should be obvious how he felt.

To Pine for Pink Opals

Fantasy · Meg Carlyle