LOGINOn a whim, I try to roll him over, not expecting the iron cage of his arms to so much as shift. But he flips easily with a soft noise of surprise. I pull back, worried.“Apologies.” He smiles ruefully and taps the bandage on his face—on the side I rolled him to. “I think this will take some getting
“Oh.” I glance at Amval. Cirocco waits by his shoulder, clearly about to demand something similar. All the pressures of life suddenly descend back into place. With Kaloni dead, Amval has no rival for the crown. There’s going to be a coronation and then months of cleaning up what happened here. I’m g
Ingrid“The Goddess’ will is often far more complicated than any of us can guess,” Halit says, blood streaked on her cheek from the arrow she took to the shoulder before fleeing the altar.Laughter ripples through the temple. I know, from my second march up here, that the healthy hold up the wounded
And that is his mistake. The heartbeat he wastes on gloating gives me just enough time to slash at his unprotected throat, tearing through fur and old scar tissue.Blood waterfalls onto me, hot and fast. I wriggle out of the way before he crumples. Dead.Or at least it seems so. My halved vision mak
Amval“She will never be ready to marry my brother!” I shout as I storm into the packed temple, a sword lifted high above my head and a trail of allies collected from every corner of the palace behind me.Gasps ripple through the crowd, buoying my name forward. Ingrid turns, her jaw falling slack. T
I suck in a breath through my gritted teeth as Halit intones about the complexities of fate, how perhaps Amval dying was all part of Her cosmic plan for Cirocco and I to end up together. Maybe it was part of Her cosmic plan for me to punch a holy woman in the mouth.No. Joli is counting on me. Light
FinnKieran leads the charge to the heavy, beaten-copper gate at the top of the winding, shell-strewn path. I do my damnedest not to choke on my heart, which seems to have taken up permanent residence in my throat. I also give myself the gift of not looking at Elian. Even in just my peripheral visio
FinnA few minutes ago—time disappeared with all my logical thought, it seems—I was drinking in town with Elian and Howell, just like we do every Haze. They like to consider it an anniversary rather than keeping track of a specific date, and I know that the high of whatever the Moon Goddess is doing
The lie twists like a knife in my chest. All my life, the three of us—four of us, truly, because Vedran’s contributions cannot be understated—have been a bulwark against the world. The continuation of the family name, the legacy, has been our heart. Mother destabilized the balance. Father’s unpredic
A military power. Alpha Iraj wastes no opportunity to show off that the pack’s ancestral wind powers are staggeringly strong in him and that he has hand-picked his army for the same. Of course, his allyship is the first Corwyn would seek. No matter how often I suggest this might not come to all-out







