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Summary
"Tonight, you rest," Aylin states with all the certainty in the Realms, and smiles, gloriously accomplished and genuinely loving.
It makes Isobel's heart sing, how feather-light Aylin seems to be feeling. But it also, somehow, accentuates the line of Aylin's jaw and neck, the irresistible way she tilts her head proudly, and Isobel wants to trace the trajectory with kisses and teeth and tongue. She is enthralling, her angel, glowing in the red-hued everdusk.
The start of an adventure in literal hell, or a series of somewhat unusual double dates - who can say?
