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“You won’t leave? Fine…” Tristan steps over to the desk, picks up an oil lamp, and smashes it off the floor, a shard of glass rebounds, cutting his cheek but he does not so much as blink, “you can burn here,” he announces coldly as the flames begin to spread across the oak floor.” — Shauna Richmond
You won’t leave? Fine…” Tristan steps over to the desk, picks up an oil lamp, and smashes it off the floor, a shard of glass rebounds, cutting his cheek but he does not so much as blink, “you can burn here,” he announces coldly as the flames begin to spread across the oak floor.