Mistborn The Final Empire Audiobook Novels & Stories

All— Owned. Like me. Like Hope. Like— Everyone. Eventually. If his plan worked. If we succeeded. If— We continued. Spreading. Converting. Destroying. Building— Empire. Perfect empire. Ashford empire. Where everyone smiled. Everyone served. Everyone— Died inside while appearing alive outside. Like me. Like Hope. Like— Future. Entire future. If Marcus won. If we—if I— Succeeded in mission. In expansion. In— Everything he commanded.

The sharp jawline, the dark curls falling slightly over his forehead and his beautiful hazel eyes. He had taken down three grown men like they were nothing. It was terrifying, yes, but under the influence of the whiskey, it was also the most intoxicating thing I had ever witnessed. When the cab finally pulled up to the gates of the Donovan mansion, Jared paid the driver and stepped out. I tried to stand, but my legs felt like lead, buckling instantly. I let out a soft, giggling gasp as I began to tilt sideways. Jared rolled his eyes, a low groan of frustration escaping his chest.

Every chapter had mattered. But none of them had defined me alone. Pierce found me there as the sun began to set. “You came here for the ending,” he said. “No,” I replied. “For the truth.” “And what is it?” I looked out across the water. “That the empire was never the company.” He nodded slowly. “What was it then?” I turned toward him, smiling gently. “The empire was the woman who refused to disappear.” We walked back home under a sky painted with the last colors of sunset.

The image won’t leave. “Madame, we have arrived,” the driver said in a soft French accent, stepping out of the vehicle. I swallowed hard as my eyes lifted. The Palais D’Or ballroom glowed under night skylines, masked guests drifting in and out like ghosts dressed in gold and silk. Caspian Ventura. That greedy old monster. I am glad his son, Zavier, isn’t here tonight, which makes killing Caspian Ventura easier than I planned. “Are you ready?” Kael’s voice came through my earpiece.

a voice barked. Zane jolted upright, his wig nearly slipping sideways. His instincts made him reach for a gun he didn’t have. His hand twitched toward his hip before he remembered it was a sword, not a pistol. He didn’t even know how to use this one. Wrong century. Wrong life. Standing in the doorway was Kim Insoo, captain of the guards, his brows knotted, chest heaving like he’d just run across the palace. His sharp eyes swept across the room, landing squarely on Dr Tae.