“What would you have me believe, Alina,” he says too softly, a purr between gentle and menacing, his hands tight on her hips, “that you never knew love before I brought you out of the darkness? I’m not a child to be placated and fooled by fairytales and sentiment.”

It’s true and yet not, Alina knows; sees it reflected in his eyes, looking up at her with the too-familiar guarded hope of a skittish boy, and so she takes the one path open to her, the one he’s never been able to resist; lets her mouth speak to his without words, lets the light flare up at his unconscious call, and whispers, “Is that enough to fool you?” waiting for him to trust her - or fool himself once again.