Azriel’s mind was a foggy mess from fae wine. His dark hair a ruffled mess and his tunic top button was undone. He knew he shouldn’t be asking this of his enemy. Slowly, he turned to reach out to her, for some comfort.

“Kiss me again.” He pouted as he looks up at her as she turned to leave. “Kiss me until I am sick of it.”

Slowly, a small laugh escaped Azriel’s throat as he tilts his head back against the pillows, sighing heavily. Unaware he asked the woman he hated most to kiss him.