Still, anchors do not float well on bridges. Lyselle struck next, quick as a memory. Her lips curved close to Mara’s ear; breath like sugared smoke whispered, “Give it and go. What is a path to one life when there are a hundred ways to spend it?”
On nights when the moon was thin, when the scent of distant perfume rode the wind, Mara would touch the hollow at her throat and smile a small, private smile. She had escaped the nest. The succubi had kept a tooth. She kept her child and the long, crooked road between them—imperfect and honest as any true thing.
Escape From The Nest Of The Kissing Succubi -v1...
Still, anchors do not float well on bridges. Lyselle struck next, quick as a memory. Her lips curved close to Mara’s ear; breath like sugared smoke whispered, “Give it and go. What is a path to one life when there are a hundred ways to spend it?”
On nights when the moon was thin, when the scent of distant perfume rode the wind, Mara would touch the hollow at her throat and smile a small, private smile. She had escaped the nest. The succubi had kept a tooth. She kept her child and the long, crooked road between them—imperfect and honest as any true thing.