Chapter 18: Enchanter's Nightshade, Part 1
Stregoni shivered in the dark cold of the early morning. It was an hour he was truly beginning to hate, and out of doors was not a way to attempt to enjoy it.
His only other option, however, was to go back inside, and he would rather freeze to death than listen to the haunting melodies played by a man who only used and discarded him. Than be lured by the two men whose hot kisses always made him forget that they hid a stone heart.
The cold numbed, and he needed it. He ached inside and out, body thoroughly and almost savagely used, heart shredded all over again. Would he ever learn?
No, and he knew it, so he may as well stop asking himself that same damn question every time he gave in to the need to let Gilles and François use him.
Why did they use him?