TYR

Kai never knocked softly. His hand was always too heavy, his presence too damn obvious. I hated it, but I was done talking about one thing for more than a hundred years.

The door groaned when he shoved it open and stepped into my chambers. His nose wrinkled almost immediately.

“By the gods, Tyr,” he muttered, waving his hand through the thick shadows. “Do you never get tired of this? It’s like walking into a tomb.”

I didn’t bother to look at him. I liked the dark. The heavy ...