A soft touch, warm and moist, sparked a sliver of curiosity in his heart, ravaged by the flames of wrath.
However, this frail sliver didn't survive for more than a split second and evaporated like smoke under the flames as he cursed Zepar again. How he wished words could kill or act as maledictions, that their strength would increase with his genuine emotions, yet they couldn't.
Although his mind failed to react, his body did. It recognised the warm sensation it had craved and dreamed of.
His heart hastened, pumping burning blood into his veins. Glistening sweat formed on his reddening skin as his body heat increased. The flames engulfing his eyes weakened and flickered softly.
Sensations suffocated by his rage began to register—the soft hands cupping his cheeks first, then the trembling lips pressed against his. The taste of salty tears followed as his body forcefully cleared his vision.
