Penn Cole Quotes

Don’t choose a mediocre life for a mediocre man. Go be exceptional. If he’s worth it, he won’t judge you. And if he’s really the one, he’ll come along for the ride.

For anyone who has ever been told their spark shouldn’t burn so bright and for all the people who loved them precisely because it did.

That if a man made you doubt whether his love for you would survive anything, he does not deserve you.

Burn, my Queen. Glow so bright, the darkness trembles.

Show me your worst, my darling, and I’ll show you how far my love can go.

You think I fear my own death?” he whispered in my ear. “Every day I draw breath is as much a curse as a gift. I’ve been living on borrowed time for longer than you can imagine. If you’re the way my fate finally catches up to me, I can’t fathom a more beautiful end.

For all those caught in the flames, remember that the hottest fires forge the strongest swords.

If you cannot be stronger, be smarter. Choose both your battles and your enemies with care. Know when to flee a fight to win a war.

For every spark that has lost its light and needs a little help remembering how to glow.

You are my Queen, and I am your sword. Point me at your enemies, and watch them fall. Lead this world, Diem, and I will follow you—into war, into death, into the tundra of hell itself.” He took my palm and set it against his chest, just above the patch of unscarred skin that lay beneath his jacket. “You are the fate my heart was spared for. As long as it beats, you will never fight alone.

His thumb raked across my lower lip. “I want every breath, every laugh, every tear. Every taste of your mouth, every inch of your skin. I want to kneel at your feet, soaked in the blood of your enemies, then worship your body until you scream my name.” His hands slid to my hips and tugged me closer. “Yes, Diem, I want to serve you—in every way a man can.” I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.

It’s a reminder that no challenge can destroy the parts of us that truly matter. We’re not reborn in the flames. We’re revealed.

Hope without reason is... it’s cruel.

Perhaps, for the right person, we endure the pain, because the torture of never having them at all is the more unbearable fate.

If a kiss is the reward, my Queen, I’ll get on my knees for you whenever you want.

I want to burn alive in that fire in your eyes. I want it to melt me down and forge me into the weapon you need me to be. I want to stand by your side for the rest of my life, and I don’t need you to marry me and make me a fucking king to do it.

Don’t choose a mediocre life for a mediocre man. Go be exceptional.

Hate is easy—it’s mercy that requires the greater strength.

Survive, my father’s words echoed in my ears. At whatever cost, to whatever end. Survive first, mind the consequences later.

I am yours, Luther Corbois. Scars and all.

Desire?” He gave a dark, throaty laugh. “Desire is a pathetic word for what I feel for you. I require you. I am sustained by you. You are the flame that fuels my fire. Don’t you dare question that—not for a second.

Let me die with the taste of you on my lips.

Don’t mistake the pain of change for failure.

But I was made of swinging fists and rash words, my edges too jagged and my temper too hot. Nothing about me was delicate.

Satisfaction is the death of curiosity.

He traced the edge of my jaw. “Forgive me. They all need to see it.” “See what?” I rasped, barely able to speak. “Who will come for them if they dare to come for you.” Then his lips were on mine.

What if our story isn’t over, Diem Bellator? What if it’s only beginning?

We never needed to see all of each other to love all of each other.

Let me do this for you,” he begged. “I could hope for no greater death than this.

Everyone says this phoenix represents dying and coming back as something new, but I disagree. I think it’s a symbol of surviving when the world burns down around us. It’s a reminder that no challenge can destroy the parts of us that truly matter. We’re not reborn in the flames. We’re revealed.

A scar is a sign of survival,” I continued. “Of endurance. It’s a sign that its bearer triumphed over what might have killed a lesser person. To show off your scars is to tell the world you’re not ashamed of what you’ve overcome.

You are fearless. You are strong. You do not cower in the faces of gods nor kings. You are fated for greater battles than this, so you do whatever it takes, and you fight like hell.” “I will,” I vowed. “Remember who you are, Diem Bellator.” He clasped the medallion at my neck. “But remember you are a phoenix, too. We do not fear the flames, for the hotter we burn, the higher we fly.

I’d always been a spitfire, and proud of it. An unbreakable spirit in a world that wanted me to be quiet, small, subservient.

But I didn’t choose to be a healer, nor did I choose to take my mother’s role. And I didn’t want gentle or delicate. I wanted to burn.

Strange, how armor could be both a shield and a cage, keeping the arrows out while trapping the monster in.

Embrace your phoenix. Rise from the ashes, and burn bright once more.

You saw it too, didn’t you?” I stopped, but I didn’t look back. “Last night,” he said, “right before the roof collapsed. The vision. The battlefield.” I couldn’t move, my body paralyzed, my thoughts stunned to stillness. “What if our story isn’t over, Diem Bellator? What if it’s only beginning?

Don’t worry about it, Queenie. We’ve got your back.

I want every breath, every laugh, every tear. Every taste of your mouth, every inch of your skin.

I was drowning in this man. From the moment I met him, I had been kicking against the current and holding my breath, struggling to get back to the safe, familiar surface—but every look, every touch, dragged me deeper still. I felt the burning of it in my lungs, as real and visceral as if I were plunging into the Sacred Sea itself. And maybe it made me weak, or a traitor, or a fool, but gods did I want to close my eyes and sink forever.

He was once again a marble-carved statue—pretty to look at, impossible to know.

Diem—you’re wearing the Crown. You’ve been selected. You are the new Queen of Lumnos.

She was my constant lantern when, like now, the world was dark and I didm't know which way to go.

I am not afraid, Devourer of Crowns. Ravager of Realms. Herald of Vengeance.

I used to play a game where I would change the subject and see how long it took him to bring you up. It never took more than three sentences. He had it bad.

I wonder where she picked up her habit of disappearing on the people who love her with no explanation,” Luther said flatly.

Harder, Your Highness. Wilst thou give me permission to come, Your Highness? Let me kneel for you and show the Prince’s little prince a good time, Your H—

To be disarmed is to court death.

But rest assured, my Queen, when I do kiss you, there will be no confusion. You will know that I have claimed you—and I won’t have any desire to deny it.

I feel a brush over my arm where Penn stood just a second ago. It's Knight. And next to Knight stands Vaughn. 'Cole?' Gus twists his lips, glowering. 'What the fuck?' Knight clasps a hand on my shoulder, hitching a shoulder up while lighting a joint. 'The fuck is, you don't fuck with my family and integrity and assume you get out of it in one piece. Or, you know, at all.

clasping it in both of his. “My darling Diem, you asked how I knew your mother was the one? The truth is that I just knew. There was never a decision to make. Whatever path she was on, that was where I belonged. By her side, and by yours. Any other option was unthinkable.

He’s gone, she reminded herself. Dead. You killed him. You’re safe, and so is she.

the King of Lumnos was finally, finally dead. Which could only mean one thing... In thirty days, Auralie Bellator was going home.

Your Majesty... you are our Crown.

When it seems like the world wants to crush your spirit and burn you alive, never forget my little flames, pressure and heat make diamonds.

When things are dark and you can’t find the light, just keep fighting, little flame. The world needs your glow.

You are the fate my heart was spared for. As long as it beats, you will never fight alone.

It's not the worst thing to break a little every now and then. It builds character.

My father would be disappointed—he’d trained me better than to let my guard down,

Does your little tree club even take women as members? I didn’t see any last night.” “My little tree club is run by a woman.

I am Diem Bellator.” I stared up through my lashes, the glow of the Crown casting ominous shadows down my face. “And I kneel for no one.” Fight.

He was also dangerously skilled. It seemed all five of his brain cells had been devoted to the art of the fight.

I was not made to sit and do nothing. I was made to fight.

To show off your scars is to tell the world you’re not ashamed of what you’ve overcome. Frankly, I can’t imagine any better symbol of strength.

The darkness is closing in,” I whispered, “and I don’t have the strength to find the light.” “Then make your own.

He threw his head back and laughed. “You’re very cocky for a woman. What is it you think you have that I don’t?” “Knuckles that don’t drag when I walk. The ability to breathe through my nose. A neck.

I'm turning my back on Vaughn and Knight without saying goodbye because I know they won't let me go. They'll promise to protect me and fight my battles at school, and a part of me still wants that to happen.

War is death and misery and sacrifice. War is making choices that will haunt you for the rest of your days. You fight to protect, or to survive, but never for the joy of killing, no matter how brutal your enemy.

Knight and Vaughn are the closest to each other, practically brothers, which is weird because they are also like fire and ice. Vaughn is a crazy artist with psychotic tendencies, and Knight is the definition of a popular jock. One is Edward Scissorhands; the other is Zac Efron's prettier long-lost brother.

His gaze seared into mine with equal passion. “I would have walked into the flaming heart of the sun itself,” he shot back. “If you are suffering, nothing will keep me from coming to your aid. Least of all something as trivial as death.

When all else fails, keep moving,” I said to the empty room, echoing the command my father had drilled into me. “If you cannot run, then walk. If you cannot walk, then crawl.” ​His voice filled my stormy mind. If you are outnumbered or overwhelmed, or if all seems lost, just keep moving. Onward, until the very last breath.

The stories say the goddess Lumnos and her siblings wanted the Descended to protect the mortals.

Knight is gorgeous, and not only does he know it, but he would also advertise it on a billboard if it were possible.

an education is the most powerful weapon of them all.

I want to kneel at your feet, soaked in the blood of your enemies, then worship your body until you scream my name.

I had little faith in gods or men, but I believed in the fearsome dedication of Luther Corbois with every fiber of my being.

There is no place in all of existence I would rather be than between your legs, and there’s no part of you I do not long to consume. With my eyes. With my hands. With my mouth.

But we don’t always get to keep the people we love forever,

You cannot solve a problem you refuse to look at,” I said.

Diem Bellator, you are everything I’ve ever wanted. You are my joy and my salvation. You are perfect. And I promise you this—I will love you for as long as love exists.

Prichard's got too much to lose. He can't touch us.' 'Can anyone?' Penn wonders aloud, just as Trent's door opens from the other side. Dean whistles for him to get outside, swinging my baseball bat and parking it over his shoulder. 'Maybe God,' I answer curtly. 'Even that's debatable.' Dean snickers.

I want there to be no part of you that you hide from me because you fear it’s a part I will not love. I treasure your darkness as much as your light.” He dropped his mouth a breath away from mine, his words a whisper on my lips. “Show me your worst, my darling, and I’ll show you how far my love can go.

I want there to be no part of you that you hide from me because you fear It's a part I will not love. I treasure your darkness as much as your light. He dropped his mouth, a breath away from mine. His words are whisper on my lips. Show me your worst, my darling. And I'II show you how far my love can go.

Do it,” he said again. “Kill me, if that’s what you think I deserve. But if you do, give me one favor before I go.” His pulse throbbed against my blood- soaked hand, his heartbeat racing to match my own. “Favor?” His eyes rose to mine. “Let me die with the taste of you on my lips.” Our lips collided, and I was lost.

I’d cared. But I’d cared in the ways that affected me. I’d cared when I or the people I knew suffered, when the injustices inflicted by the Descended were forced into my path, disrupting my happy little bubble. And now, I was finally starting to look beyond the oily rainbow prism of that bubble’s edge to the reality of the world beyond.

It’s never the enemy who attacks outright who will strike your killing blow, he’d taught me. It’s the one who hides in the shadows and waits. The one who strikes when you’ve finally looked away. Those are the true predators to fear.

I kept the scar as a symbol of that promise.” His focus rose to me. “But you are the woman I pledged myself to. And now, this scar is for you.” He laid his hand over mine to flatten it over the scar’s rippled edge. “Let all those who might try to tear us apart see this and know how far my devotion will go. I will suffer for you, bleed for you, but most of all, I will survive for you. My body can be carved in two, open and dying, and still I will crawl from the ruins of my flesh and fight my way back to your side. Death itself could not keep me away. “My oath to you is written on my skin. Once, that vow was just to serve you.” He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed my knuckles. “Now, it is everything.

Suit yourself. But whatever you do or don’t do, sweetheart, do it for yourself. Don’t choose a mediocre life for a mediocre man. Go be exceptional. If he’s worth it, he won’t judge you. And if he’s really the one, he’ll come along for the ride.

And soft. I was surrounded by softness. A nest of it, tucked into me on all sides. It smelled heavenly. Masculine. Fresh, earthy moss and damp cedar. Old, tanned leather with a peppery musk. It smelled like my beloved forest. It smelled like home.

To beat your enemy, you have to know your enemy—intimately. And there’s no better place to do that than in their own home.” The calculating tone in his voice sent ice creeping up my spine. He sounded more like a soldier preparing for war than the goofy, carefree friend I’d grown up with. “You’ve been spending too much time around the Commander,” I teased, a little nervously. “Your father didn’t teach me that. Your mother did.

They want us to feel small, Eleanor. They want us to be quiet, be predictable, be unimportant, behave. Then they make us think we deserve it. But I think they’re just terrified we’ll stop listening to them and start listening to each other. And do you know why they’re so scared of women like us?

you dare mistake compassion for lack of courage,” he growled. “Anyone can slaughter their enemies. Hate is easy—it’s mercy that requires the greater strength. I’ll be damned if I let you believe that beautiful heart of yours is a weakness. Trust your instincts, my Queen—above all else, trust yourself.

I want every breath, every laugh, every tear. Every taste of your mouth, every inch of your skin. I want to kneel at your feet, soaked in the blood of your enemies, then worship your body until you scream my name.” His hands slid to my hips and tugged me closer. “Yes, Diem, I want to serve you—in every way a man can.

What if I don’t want to sit back and do nothing anymore?” I said. “What if I want to fight back?” He cupped my face in his hands, his skin rough against my jaw. “I cannot tell you what to do with your life, my darling Diem. But whatever you choose—be smart. And above all, survive. Your life is far too precious to me to be wasted.

Because Knight refuses to win the game. Penn is trying to kill Las Juntas' chance to win so he can save me, but Knight doesn't let him because he knows he deserves it.

You make so many promises, but the only thing I ever really wanted was honesty. And it’s the one thing you still refuse to give.

For every spark that has lost its light

All the nights I ever have—they all belong to you.

Let me die with the taste of you on my lips.” Our lips collided, and I was lost.

It takes being denied what you want to understand the power of wanting more. Satisfaction is the death of curiosity. And this group has been satisfied in abundance.

Nuestra noche se acerca y, cuando llegue, seré la última primera vez que tengas.

If you’re the way my fate finally catches up to me, I can’t fathom a more beautiful end.

Don’t you dare mistake compassion for lack of courage,” he growled. “Anyone can slaughter their enemies. Hate is easy—it’s mercy that requires the greater strength.

And don’t forget why they banned these books for mortals in the first place.” “Why is that?” “Because an education is the most powerful weapon of them all.

The true measure of strength is not in the lives we take, but in the lives we save.

don’t forget why they banned these books for mortals in the first place.” “Why is that?” “Because an education is the most powerful weapon of them all.

How strange, to live my whole life only a brief distance from such breathless excess, and yet be entirely disconnected from it.

Cousin... who is this woman to you?” A pause, and a long, heavy sigh. “Eleanor, I... I think she...” Darkness.

Crouched in the shadows, watching and waiting from afar, were the memories of a missing mother, a dangerous Prince, and a cloud of ash that had once been a wolf.

I focused on keeping my lungs steady despite the very acute awareness of what part of my body was mere inches from his face. “Too bad I didn’t wear a dress,” I murmured.

And I wondered how long I had until the fire in my soul burned me alive.

amalgamation

You went with me even though you knew you would be exiled from your home?” His brows knit to a deep crease, as if my question made no sense. “Diem... you’re my home.

I would have walked into the flaming heart of the sun itself,” he shot back. “If you are suffering, nothing will keep me from coming to your aid. Least of all something as trivial as death.

Every day I draw breath is as much a curse as a gift. I’ve been living on borrowed time for longer than you can imagine. If you’re the way my fate finally catches up to me, I can’t fathom a more beautiful end.

It is not just my body that craves you, Diem. It is my heart.” He clutched at his chest. “My scarred, ruined scrap of a soul. Your smiles, your affection, the way you look at me, the way you see me... that is my lifeblood. I would sooner wither without food or water, sink into the sea until my lungs burst, abandon my magic and let my godhood burn me alive from within than endure one more day of life without you in it.

Mom and Dad clap. Bailey jumps up and down. Knight gives us a thumbs-up, and Vaughns rolls his eyes but smiles. Luna, Addy, Harper, and Camilo look at us likek they've won something. Happy in our happiness. And that's what good friends and families do. They pick you up and pull you out of the mud of your own mistakes. And when you're not the best version of yourself? Well, they're still there, waiting, because we're all fucking human.

Because in this world of injustice and cruelty, where innocents died every day while people in power turned a blind eye and hid in the comfort of their privalege, doing something and failing was better than doing nothing at all.

But whatever you do or don’t do, sweetheart, do it for yourself. Don’t choose a mediocre life for a mediocre man. Go be exceptional. If he’s worth it, he won’t judge you. And if he’s really the one, he’ll come along for the ride.

In my head, I rattled off some exquisitely colorful commentary on his parenting style, but I knew too well that with men like this, it would be the more vulnerable members of his family who paid the price if my temper wounded his ego.

Perhaps the Umbros Queen was planning to have a feast over our executions. “Don’t fight back,” Zalaric warned. “She’s ruthless about protecting her reputation. Don’t insult or threaten her, Diem. Be quiet and polite and—” Taran groaned. “We’re all gonna die.

I could barely tear my eyes from all the chiseled jawlines and curling, mile-long lashes, but there was something about it that made me almost sad. I glanced at Henri from the corner of my eye. His nose was slightly bent, thanks to a drunken bar fight, and myriad scars coated his hands and forearms. When he caught my stare and flashed his usual grin, one tooth was crooked, another chipped from a childhood fall. Still, my stomach fluttered. Henri was as handsome to me as any man in this city, not in spite of those traits but because of them. Those small idiosyncrasies littering his body were signs of his life and character, a map of his soul that only those who truly knew him could read.

I wanted him inside me. Not just between my legs—I wanted his blood coursing through my veins, his bones fused to mine to make me strong. I wanted to tear myself open and keep a piece of him hidden away inside me from this vicious world that kept trying to tear us apart. My need for him burned in my lungs, hammered in my heart, slicked between my clenching thighs.

I barely made it to the parlor before my knees gave in. My hands clamped across my mouth to muffle the sound as sorrow tore out of me in great, heaving sobs. Not for me, but for the man in my bed, from whom so much had been taken and so little given in return. A man for whom something as simple as happiness had been a rare, fleeting gift. A gift the gods hadn’t even let him keep for more than a day.

In 1970 the Quakers released a slim book entitled “Who Shall Live? Man’s Control over Birth and Death: A Report Prepared for the American Friends Service Committee” which was the result of a decision which the Family Planning Committee of the AFSC reached in December 1966 “to explore the issues involved in abortion.” That meeting in turn flowed from the November 1966 meeting that the AFSC had had with Planned Parenthood, and that meeting resulted from the setback the Quaker and Episcopalian forces for sexual liberation and eugenics in Philadelphia had suffered at the hands of Martin Mullen, when the governor capitulated to his demands and backed away from state-promoted birth control in August of the same year. As a result of their meeting with Planned Parenthood, the Quakers decided to “make a study of the availability of family planning services for medically indigent families in the city and to form an estimate as to the extent of the unmet need for such services. “Who Shall Live” was the fruit of this labor. “Who Shall Live?” is a graphic example of moral theology in the Quaker mode. It begins by announcing that “for 300 years members of the Society of Friends (Quakers) have been seekers after the truth” and concludes by admitting that they have been so far unsuccessful in their efforts. Where once people like Fox and Penn “thought of himself as created only a few thousand years ago,” the enlightened Quakers who wrote birth-control tracts in the 1960s “now know he is part of an evolutionary process that has been going on for billions of years. In that process he has arrived at a stage of knowledge and technology whereby he himself has the power, at least in part, to determine the direction in which he will evolve in the future.” Having decided that their religious forebears were wrong on just about everything because they didn’t understand science, the 1970 Quakers then give some sense of their own grasp of science as it applies to population issues. Looking at the world from outer space in 1968, the Quakers found it “incredible that 3.5 billion people should be living on that small spinning planet.” Taking their cue from Paul Ehrlich’s 1968 book “The Population Bomb” the Quakers concluded quite logically that if the planet cannot sustain 3.5 billion people in 1968, then it certainly couldn’t sustain 6 billion people in the year 2000. Unless drastic population-control measures are introduced immediately, dire consequences will follow. “Lamont C. Cole, who is a Professor of Ecology warns that we may one day find ourselves short of breathable air,” the Quakers announced breathlessly.

I had been crafted here. I was born a lump of molten metal, shaped by my mother, honed to a point by my father, engraved on the hilt by my brother. I had so foolishly believed the trials of the last few months had been the final firing that would harden me into a righteous sword of justice. But that had only been the beginning. That had been the pounding of the blacksmith’s hammer, the grinding against the wheel until my edges were sharp and my aim was true.

I had been crafted here. I was born a lump of molten metal, shaped by my mother, honed to a point by my father, engraved on the hilt by my brother. I had so foolishly believed the trials of the last few months had been the final firing that would harden me into a righteous sword of justice. But that had only been the beginning. That had been the pounding of the blacksmith’s hammer, the grinding against the wheel until my edges were sharp and my aim was true. This night—this was the fire that had forged me. And someday soon, when the burning glow of my grief cooled away, I would show my father’s killer, and all of Emarion, just how deeply my blade could cut.

Don’t you dare mistake compassion for lack of courage,” he growled. “Anyone can slaughter their enemies. Hate is easy—it’s mercy that requires the greater strength. I’ll be damned if I let you believe that beautiful heart of yours is a weakness. Trust your instincts, my Queen—above all else, trust yourself.

Diem, when you and I finally get a night alone together, looking will be the least of what I do to you.

How did that jar even get in my fishing box?” Because I’m planning to take our rowboat out and leave it at the bottom of the Sacred Sea once I work up the nerve.

Prince Luther, the King’s nephew. He’s incredibly powerful, no matter how you measure it. He’s one of the only Lumnos Descended that can wield both light magic and shadow magic.

One by one, I hurled the moon-shaped jars into the sea. One by one, they hit the waves and sank forever to a watery grave. Each quiet splash felt like the creaking open of an old, heavy door, its iron hinges rusted from ages of disuse. I said a prayer to the Old Gods to make me ready for whatever lay beyond.

One of you will be mine. Tell me, Diem Bellator—who do you choose?

According to the old mortal religion, all life began as sparks from the Everflame that fell to the earth as glowing seeds. At death, those found worthy by the Old Gods would be placed among its burning branches, where their earthly bodies would turn to ash but their souls would remain forever warmed by the Undying Fire. Those found unworthy were doomed to an eternity in a cold hell encased in ice, far from the Everflame’s redeeming heat.

You know how every realm has two kinds of magic? Light and shadow in Lumnos, stone and ice in Montios, sea and air in Meros, and so on.

Well, in the other realms, most Descended get one type of magic or the other. Only the very strongest get both. In Fortos, it works differently. The female Descended always get healing magic, while the male Descended get the power to kill—they can make your body decay right in front of their eyes. Makes them tough to beat in a fight. There are some who aren’t fully male or female and have both types of magic, but I hear that’s rare.

How did you meet her?” I asked. Before Brecke could respond, the table jolted as if struck. He and Henri exchanged matching glares that had my brows rising, but Brecke rubbed his leg and quickly continued.

Brecke roared with laughter. “Albanon, you better hold on to this one.” He slapped a very nervous-looking Henri on the arm. “If you can.

I was standing on a battlefield aflame with silvery fire, clad in armor of deepest black that concealed mud and gore, the speckled evidence of war. My bloodied hands bore a great gold-handled broadsword whose onyx blade was veined with scrollwork that seemed almost illuminated from within. I swung the blade around me in slow, menacing circles that dared my enemy to approach. A shadowed figure stood nearby, and lifeless bodies—Descended and mortal—lay in a broad ring at my feet, as if they’d been thrown back by the force of a massive explosion. My face was grim, undaunted. Sad, I think—but strong. Unbreakably strong.

It’s a group for mortals who refuse to accept the Descended as the rulers of Emarion. We fight back in whatever ways we can. We call ourselves the Guardians of the Everflame.

But that’s the name—” “Of the mortal rebellion during the Blood War,” he finished with a nod. “The Descended thought they’d crushed it completely, but some of the rebel cells survived. They’ve been operating in secret ever since, gathering information and weapons. The hope is that someday we’ll be strong enough to try again and actually win.

Who is it? Do I know her?” “I can’t say. No revealing anyone’s identity, remember?” My shoulders slumped. “Would I get to work with her?” “I hope so,” he said, his eyes softening with some inscrutable emotion. “She is a force to be reckoned with—just like you.

There was one substance I’d learned could be lethal to the Descended: godstone, a rare material that could only be made by the Kindred. If formed into a projectile or blade, a serious strike could be instantly fatal, and even minor blows risked an infection from its lethal toxin. Though harmless to mortals, its effects were ferociously destructive to Descended, a gruesome and painful death with no known antidote.

If you want to take them on, you have to learn to blend in, not stand out.” Something about his words sat wrong in my heart, the plunk of a distant piano hitting a sour note. The voice inside me seemed to shudder with equal distaste.

At school they said light and shadow work the same, but my magic tutor has both, and she says the shadows are harder to convince into doing what you want them to do. She said the light wants to please its wielder, but the shadows only want to fight.

You can’t really be considering letting her in. Do you realize who she is?” He continued to watch me, his dark eyes drilling into my own. “I know exactly who she is.” “Then you know why she’s off-limits.

Shadows work the same way. Darkness isn’t just the absence of light—it’s the absence of everything. No light, no heat, no air. True darkness can destroy even life itself.

That still doesn’t explain how you can make it solid. Even pure light and darkness can’t do that.” His lip quirked again—higher this time. “That, Miss Bellator, is why we call it magic.

If the others find you before I do, there will only be so much I can do to protect you.” Protect me? How gullible did he think I was? Did he really expect me to— “Don’t end up like your mother. She betrayed me and lost my trust. You should learn from her mistakes.

End be your time, a trade in kind, a life well-lived for peace to find. Be not afraid, as shadows fade, all pain and woe shall be unmade. Now fate well-sealed shall be revealed, for those whose worthy souls shall yield. In love and calm, this holy psalm, shall guide your soul to realm beyond.

You,” he croaked, voice hoarse from months of atrophy. “You’ve finally come.” I jerked backward, yanking my arm as I tried and failed to escape his hold. “No—I’m sorry. I—please, let me go.” “They told me you would come for me.” “What? Who?” “They told me your blood would shatter our stone and lay waste to our borders.

Give him our gift, Daughter of the Forgotten. When the end has come, and the blood has spilled, give our gift to my faithful heir, and tell him this is my command.

All this time, I’d dismissed Luther as someone ice-cold and heartless, too frosty to feel anything true. But Luther wasn’t cold at all. Luther was an inferno.

Inside, we rattled the bars keeping us trapped in lives we didn’t choose. Inside, we roared with an insatiable craving for more. Inside, we paced and we planned and we waited. Inside, we burned.

I should put all four of your heads on a pike for treason. I just assaulted the Queen, and you cowards stood there and watched me do it. The next time someone lays a hand on her and you don’t kill them where they stand, I’ll carve out your eyeballs and feed them to the fucking hounds. It doesn’t matter if it’s me or the Regent or Blessed Mother Lumnos herself. Do your damn jobs and protect our Queen.

Only one thing is certain: my mother’s disappearance on that hot, cursed afternoon set off a chain of reactions so unexpected, so far-reaching, that even the gods themselves could not predict the consequences that would later come to pass.

As a child, my mother had forbidden me from any interaction with them: No consuming their food or wine. No venturing into Lumnos City. I wasn’t even permitted to treat Descended patients in my work as a healer.

What’s wrong with your eyes, girl?” I squinted in a feeble attempt to conceal them, but the damage was done. “Fortos’s balls, she’s one of them.” “You’re a Descended?

He towered above her by more than a foot, a feature he wielded over her like a weapon, drawn and waiting to strike. He appeared a few years older than me in age, and his face was strikingly handsome, though angular and severe, made even more so by raven-black hair, pulled back low and tight, and the scar that slashed across his olive skin. Its pale, jagged lines splintered like lightning, up from his collar and across his full lips and narrowed eyes. Cold, emotionless eyes. Blue-grey eyes. Descended eyes.

Out of the question,” the man’s voice rumbled, low and deep. Something inside me stirred at the sound of it, like a yawning dragon emerging from slumber.

Let me guess—I’ve already met my true love, I’m going to have a stable full of children, and I’m going to live a long, blissfully happy life before I die.” “No, child. None of that for you, I’m afraid.

Those eyes—a gift from your father, aren’t they? Your real father.” I froze. “And that’s not the only thing he gave you, is it?” My head whipped back to her. “What are you talking about?” “That mother of yours thought she could hide it from the world. Thought she could hide it from you with that little powder of hers. But secrets like that can’t stay kept forever.” Her focus turned skyward, taking in the scattered beams of bloody sunlight around us. “And it appears the Kindred are done waiting.

A chorus of alarm bells erupted in my head. There was no way she could know about the powder and the reason I took it. No one outside my family knew—and no one inside my family would dare share it. Unless... Unless this woman knew the man who had sired me. But that was equally impossible. My mother said he’d died before my birth, before he’d even known she was pregnant. Even the man I now called my father didn’t know his name.

He knows about you, your father. He’s waiting for you.” “My sire, not my father,” I corrected between clenched teeth. “And he’s dead.” “Should be. But he’s a survivor.” She chuckled. “Another trait you inherited, I’m guessing.

Listen to me and listen close, Daughter of the Forgotten.” She leaned forward and poked me in the shoulder. “Stop running from who you are. Stop hiding.” “I’m not hiding from anyth—” “And stop taking that cursed flameroot powder.

When forgotten blood on heartstone falls, then shall the chains be broke,” she crooned. “Life for life, old debt requires, or eternal be his yoke.

I lost all sense of self. My body was no longer one soul but thousands of them. They flowed like roots from the soil beneath the palace, snaking through the stone and burrowing under my skin. They pulsed in rhythm in my core, each one lending their power to my own. One stood out in particular, a spirit brighter than all the others combined. Its face wavered in my vision, too hazy to see clearly except for one feature: two grey eyes, so much like my own, staring back at me. Their corners crinkled as if in a smile.

I didn’t even know the King was married,” I admitted. “When did Rapheol die?” Eleanor leaned forward until her face was close to mine. “Less than a month after Ulther’s coronation. He was poisoned by a rival House. It’s a heartbreaking story.” “Someone poisoned the King’s husband?” She nodded. “Just as he received the Crown, Ulther was cheated in a trade agreement. He wanted to prove his strength before his Challenging, so he had their entire House shut down. He seized their property and ordered that they all leave Lumnos, join another House, or become one of the Unhoused Descended that live on the outskirts of the realm.” “All that over a bad business deal?” “It gets worse.” She sighed sadly. “An elder from that House decided she had nothing left to lose, so she infected Rapheol with a rare poison and demanded Ulther reinstate her House in exchange for an antidote. She even insisted on a bonded bargain that he wouldn’t punish her or her House for it later.” “And Ulther wouldn’t do it?” “Oh, he did—but she gave him an antidote, not the antidote. She worded the bargain cleverly, and there was nothing he could do. Rapheol died, and Ulther couldn’t seek revenge without losing his magic.” “That’s terrible,” I gasped. “I can’t believe she got away with it.” “She didn’t. That’s where it gets worse. Her bargain was clever, but not clever enough, because it only bound Ulther and not the rest of House Corbois. The King couldn’t take revenge—but his brothers could.” My eyebrows flew up. “What did they do?” She chewed on her lip and glanced nervously at her uncles. “They took out the entire House.” I spun around to face her. “Took out? As in...?” “As in dead. Every last one. The whole family was wiped out overnight.

Garath is dangerous,” he whispered. “It’s one thing for me to provoke him. He won’t strike at me without my father’s blessing. But for you...” “I’m not afraid of Garath,” I gritted out. “He might be dangerous, but I’m gods-damned fatal.

Oh no, that won’t do at all. You nearly made my dear friend cry. That calls for some serious groveling.” I dipped my head. “Down there. On your knees.” He shot me a dark look. “With all due respect to my lovely cousin, the only person I’m getting down on my knees for is you, my Queen.

Lumnos had grey eyes. She gifted her offspring with blue eyes at the Forging, but hers always remained grey.

When you said you wanted to serve me, a foot massage isn’t quite what I had in mind,” I joked, my voice turning hoarse. His face angled toward my leg, his lips nearly brushing my ankle. “Tell me then, my Queen, how would you like me to serve you?” Both palms dragged down my legs, resting low on my thighs and nudging them apart with the faintest pressure. “Shall I get back down on my knees until I earn another kiss?

You’re all using me. This whole gods-damned House is using me. Just because I’m choosing to play nice for now doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten that I’m a mouse in a pit of hungry vipers.” “A mouse?” He leaned in, strands of my hair swaying in the gust of his ragged breaths. “We may be vipers, but you’re no mouse. You’re a fucking dragon.

I will keep you safe, and I will not apologize for it. Not now, not ever.” He roughly cupped my face in his hands, his fingers clinging to my skin like he might fall to his death if he ever let me go. “Not even if you despise me. Not even if I am nothing to you. Because my calling comes from a higher authority than even you can claim, Your Majesty. As she guarded my heart, I will guard over yours. Even if it kills me.

Who did this to you?” I breathed, feeling as if flames might spew from my fangs like a gryvern. “It doesn’t matter. They can’t hurt me anymore, and I won’t let them hurt anyone else.” “Tell me,” I snarled. “Why are you protecting them?” “It’s not them I’m protecting.

I don’t need to be bribed to stay alive, Luther. My survival instincts are pretty strong.” “You threatened to cut my hand off within minutes of meeting me. You attacked the Royal Guards several times. You snuck around the palace alone. You ran into a burning, collapsing building. All while you apparently believed yourself to be a mortal. With respect, my Queen—” He returned my narrowed eyes and leaned his face to mine. “—your survival instincts are shit.

You are a blank canvas, and this ball is your palette of paint. You can create whatever vision of yourself you want them to see. You can be mysterious or meek or strong. You can make them fear you, or you can make them underestimate you. The you that walks into that ballroom is entirely within your control. That is a rare gift in our world.

You’re really going to do it?” I asked quietly. “You’ll let them all go... for me?” He brushed his thumb along my palm in a long, slow trail. “You’re my Queen. Everything I do is for you.

When forgotten blood on heartstone falls, then shall the chains be broke,” he said in a bitter drawl. “Life for life, old debt requires, or eternal be his yoke.

Patience, my Queen.” His thumb stroked a slow trail up my spine. “The most precious rewards come from the battles most fiercely fought.

More than any of the other Kindred, Blessed Mother Lumnos loved the mortals. She never wanted them forced into submission—she commanded her Descended to guard them from harm, not be the cause of it.” He took my face in his hands, cradling it in his palms. “Even before you had the Crown, I felt her urging me toward you. The more I see of you, the more I understand why. She wants change, and she believes you can achieve it.” His thumb brushed across my cheek. “And so do I.

Every person in this room wants something from you,” he said after a heavy pause. “They look at you, and they see the things they want to take. I know, because I lived it. From the moment I became heir, everyone wanted to be either my friend or my lover. When you took the Crown, I swore to be different—to serve your goals, not mine. I told myself that even if you had no one else, you would at least have me. I never wanted to become just another person who wanted to steal a piece of you for themselves

They want us to feel small, Eleanor. They want us to be quiet, be predictable, be unimportant, behave. Then they make us think we deserve it. But I think they’re just terrified we’ll stop listening to them and start listening to each other. And do you know why they’re so scared of women like us?” Our gazes met, two sets of glittering eyes shining in shared determination. “Why?” she asked. My answering grin was positively wicked. “Because they damn well should be.

I always knew what it was to be cherished, to be given a soil of unconditional love to nourish our growth and keep us rooted no matter the world’s storms.

Taran barked a loud laugh. “And that didn’t tip you off that you were Descended? How deeply in denial were you?” “You have no idea,” Luther muttered.

Frankly, the fact that your brother’s heart still beats is owed only to his impressive ability to avoid pissing you off.” “Then how are you still alive?” That had definitely been aloud. Luther’s joyless smirk rang with the promise of a battle. It was equal parts thrilling and immensely unnerving. FIGHT.

And I have failed. Completely, irreversibly failed. I don’t just want a piece of you—I want them all.” His thumb raked across my lower lip. “I want every breath, every laugh, every tear. Every taste of your mouth, every inch of your skin. I want to kneel at your feet, soaked in the blood of your enemies, then worship your body until you scream my name.

Luther gazed at me like I was the embodiment of hope fulfilled. Like I was the answer to every question he had ever asked, the harmony to every song he’d ever sung. He looked at me like I was the sun and the moon and the stars, all the light in the world, shining a path for him out of the lonely dark.

Don’t you dare mistake compassion for lack of courage,” he growled. “Anyone can slaughter their enemies.

Happy reading, dear,” she chirped, strolling away. “And don’t forget why they banned these books for mortals in the first place.” “Why is that?” “Because an education is the most powerful weapon of them all.” Chapter Thirty-Five The next few hours were some of the most enjoyable I’d ever had.

Until my last breath, until I crossed into the afterworld and back into his open arms, they would forever be falling.

A Descended mate is forever. We do not give our heart away unless we are certain, beyond all doubt, that the person we choose will stand by our side no matter what fate the Kindred have in store for us, in this life and all that comes after.

His hand curled into a fist, tugging at my hair—gently, but enough to pull a gasp from my lips and an arch from my back. He leaned into my ear. “If a kiss is the reward, my Queen, I’ll get on my knees for you whenever you want.

I could look at you forever, and it wouldn’t be nearly long enough.

Eleanor gazed at me with honest-to-gods hearts in her eyes and made a high-pitched swooning sound.

Had I held myself back all these years because I didn’t want to give my heart away, or had I simply never found someone worthy of giving it to?

I would do anything for you. As long as I can do it with you.

But here, in private, do not expect me to hold my tongue while you give your heart to a man you had to beg to keep from walking away.

If you find something that brings you joy, hold on to it with everything you’ve got.

But I had almost given up once before, and it had nearly cost me everything. Since then, I’d sworn to never be weak again.