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Summary
“…But, wouldn’t it be easier? To mate, I mean. We’re already halfway there.”
“Easier for who, Deliverer? You, or me?”
Phainon squeezes his eyes shut against the memory. He still doesn’t have an answer to Mydei’s question.
(“Can you promise me that I would still have a mate to usher in Era Nova with after you’re done bleeding for the Flame-Chase?”)