There was a small, barely visible smile of relief on Almandine's face just before Arachne tilted his head up, lips meeting. Almandine sank into the kiss, let himself be momentarily lost to it, mouths moving slowly and warmly and wonderfully together. His hand slid into Arachne's hair, gentle and yearning.

This is mine, Almandine thought. Not Mag Mell's.

This is all mine.

Grymoire