Quote by Thea Guanzon

“Talasyn was burning up. Had it really been just thirty minutes? It had felt much longer. Her throat was parched and every inch of her body was on fire. Heatstroke, she thought groggily. Like the relentless summers on the Great Steppe. Too much light, too much warmth. She took a step toward the waterline with some hazy thought of drowning herself in the Eversea. She would do anything for even a moment’s relief, but the treacherous sand shifted under her feet and she couldn’t correct, she was falling— And Alaric was catching her. Strong arms wrapped around her, hauling her up against a broad, hard frame. The relief was instantaneous everywhere his skin touched hers, her fevered brow to the hollow of his throat, his bare hands on her shoulder and the small of her back. It spread, this cooling, the roar of light receding. And Alaric was shaking, too. No, he was shivering. His teeth were chattering and he was ice-cold. Talasyn burrowed deeper against his chest, tightening her own grip on him, no thought left to her but to offer him some measure of comfort. Her left hand slipped underneath the hem of his shirt, palm flat on the heaving muscles of his abdomen. His tremors abated and his breathing evened out at the same time as hers.”

Quote by Thea Guanzon