Secrets are dark things. They don’t exist in the light. They
glow faintly in forgotten corners, in mysterious mind-nooks,
in lost memory maps. Secrets are the shadows of the soul.

If he slept, he dreamt of the woman with the icy white irises. She exploded planes, swallowed oceans and crumpled skies
in her palm in his dreams. Sometimes she and the green-eyed girl were one. At other times, the green-eyed girl was alone, a gaping hole where her heart should have been. At all times he could hear the woman’s cold, low laughter. It swept across his consciousness like a hailstorm.
When he woke up, he thought he was going mad.

The mirror sighed and spoke in a tone tinged with melancholy. Its language was old and not of any of the worlds known or unknown.

What you dream, what you darkly desire,

Find it by trial or by fire.

Seek it high and seek it low,

Search the skies or the realms below.

Look everywhere but beware,

The deepest magic, the strongest spell

Will not change what the stars foretell.

One kiss,” he murmured against her cheek. The tight knot within him begged for release.
She swallowed. “I…do… don’t know.”
“I will nae beg for one, Eve.” He nuzzled the skin below her ear, making him crave her even more.
“Yes,” she whispered.

His fingers trailed a path on her skin down her back. “Have I found a pleasure spot?” he asked while tugging her gown free from her shoulders.
Eve glanced over her should. The look she gave him pierced his soul. “Everywhere you touch give me pleasure.

I will not force ye, Eve, but ken this… I want ye like no other. ‘Tis an aching need and grows with each passing day. Ye speak of torment, but mine burns.