The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname



“You’re glowing.”

“Shut up.” Braza leaned back, hands tucked behind his head.

Kier-Dan studied him for another moment before dropping back to the bed beside him, breath already too calm for just after sex.

Braza slugged Kier-Dan’s shoulder, who merely cracked his eyes open questioningly. “At least look like you enjoyed yourself.”

That small huff of laughter. “Should I let sun magic light me up just because I got laid?”

Braza growled. “That’s not—”

“You’re glowing,” Kier-Dan repeated amused.

“I’m not wearing gauntlets!”

Gauntlets constrained magic, but Kier-Dan’s was fire and he wasn’t glowing at all. “Whatever you say, Braza.”


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