There were cliffs there,
And forests made of mists. There were bridges spanning the void, and that great gray blind lake which hung above its distant bottom
Like the sky on a rainy day above a landscape.
Rainer Maria Rilke
The mist rolled through the coast of Cornwall like a silent wave, blanketing everything with dampness and chill. For the first time in a long while, Mikhail felt cold. A dragon's blood runs hot, even in the deepest of Russian winters. But today he felt a bone-numbing ache and cold. It seemed to cut deep, freezing the edges of his very soul.
Belishaw's call had been a grim reminder of reality. He'd lived so long outside of the world that he'd lost track of the rules, forgotten about things like consequences. He'd involved Piper, and now her life was crumbling around
