“You were so defiant, standing there in the cargo hold. Terrified, but refusing to show it.” My thumb traced the curve of his lower lip. “I wanted to know what that courage tasted like...” “And?” he asked softly. “What does it taste like?” I pretended to consider, tilting my head. “Like sunrise,” I finally said. “And dragons. And freedom.”
The Sky Pirate’s Stowaway
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