She moved like Winter, fierce and cold, yet beautiful and serene all at once. Her eyes were like the frost that danced so readily at her fingers tips.
And her smile...
Her smile curved black lips into a perfect bow to shoot shards straight into his heart. Mist tumbled from her lips as she laughed, head thrown back, hair spread out like Raven's wing. She was the most beautiful...the cruelest...the purest thing he'd ever seen.
Pale fingers touched his face, lit over the scar that ruined his eye, and those lips (sinful, dreadful, perfect) curved again. She left black marks across his brow, his jaw, his heart, and it was hopeless. "I am yours." Those lips promised, her hair falling around them like a curtain, blocking out everything until they were the only two left.
"Aye. 'Til the Shadows take me."
He believed her.