He pierced himself.
Not duty.
Not command.
For me.
Blood.
Hot.
Spark.
Promise.
I felt it in the dark.
In breath against skin.
In fingers lingering
like fire knowing flame.
Love struck.
It pricked.
It burned.
It bled.
I trembled.
I opened.
He did not claim me.
He offered himself.
Every touch confession.
Every pause devotion.
Every sigh language.
When shadows came,
when trials demanded falter,
I remembered the spark.
The red proof.
He chose me first.
Love was act.
Pulse.
Fire made flesh.
And I said yes.
Again.
Again.
Again.








Powerfully penned, CG. Excellent write with an amazing ending my friend. Nice trilogy. Appreciate you.
Damian