Spark Of The Everflame 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.

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.

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.

Hope without reason is... it’s cruel.

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

For every spark that has lost its light

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

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 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.

Touch her, and I’ll rip off your fucking arms.

Other times I imagined braving the shadowy alleys of Umbros, tasting all of life’s vices and learning how to bring a man to his knees in every possible way.

The hum of his magic was a sword swung in the darkness, an ominous storm you couldn’t yet see but felt brewing in the wind. It was everywhere and nowhere, infusing the very air itself, holding me in its grasp and caressing my skin like a thousand hands.

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 a minute, you’ll be called up to confess the worst things you’ve ever done so the group has leverage on you if you try to quit. Then we’ll all strip naked and put a drop of blood in a chalice, and you have to drink it. It’s the second test of loyalty.

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.

Don’t choose a mediocre life for a mediocre man.

Luther,” I yelled, waving my arms in the air. “Over here.” He made no move toward me, not even a glimmer of a reaction. “LU-THER!” He shook his head and mouthed go home, then began to turn away. “Luther, you arrogant prick, come over here and talk to me!

Men sold the strength of their bodies as sellswords and assassins, bricklayers and carpenters. Why should it be any less acceptable for women to sell the softness of theirs?

As so often happens with a parent’s hope-filled dreams for their children, things did not go exactly to plan.

No commentary?” he asked, sinking to his knees. “I’m disappointed.” “I’m too busy enjoying the view.

I braced in anticipation of being seized by the throat, but what he did unsettled me far more. His touch was strikingly gentle as he examined the wound. I didn’t even feel pain, only the slow, careful stroke of his thumb beneath my jaw and down the curve of my neck, pausing at an old scar on my collarbone. A shiver rolled through me.

He snorted. “Big words for a little girl.” “Better a little girl than a little...” My gaze briefly dropped to his crotch, and I clicked my tongue sympathetically.

Our worlds were too distant, our goals too aligned with each other’s destruction. If we ever met on a battlefield, surely it was destined to be as enemies, not allies.

Go ahead,” he breathed. “Lie to me. I already know the answer. I know you feel my power.” His chin rose, our lips so very, very close. “Because I can feel yours, too.” No. No. He smirked. “You’re no more mortal than I am.

Then, I spotted him. With his raven hair and night- black clothes, he cut an ominous silhouette against the raging wall of flickering orange. I couldn’t make out the details of his face, and his imposing body was shrouded by the crowd clustered around him, but somehow, even among the pandemonium, I knew him. More than that— I felt him, his strange aura sweeping across my skin. Luther. As if he’d heard my thoughts, his head snapped in my direction. Even tucked as I was among a sea of onlookers, his glowing blue eyes found mine in an instant.

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.

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.

I think,” he said, tugging it from my grasp, “it’s safe to say, Miss Bellator, you’ve already won me over.

I should pull away. Why wasn’t I pulling away? The warm grip of his hand was infuriatingly distracting. I started to speak again, and his eyes dropped to my lips. My mouth went dry. Gods, I really, really hated him.

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.

Second, a message from the Blessed Mother. I know not what it means, only that it is essential you heed these lines: Eleven must fall for one to rise. Share the gift to pay the cost. A dying star will rekindle the spark. What is forgotten is not lost. Remember my sister’s words. Beware my brother’s wrath. Good luck, Daughter of the Forgotten. May you strive to seek virtue in all things.

He finally let his guard down with me that day. He showed me his smile, his laugh, his doubts, his trust. I hadn’t realized it then—and I would have fervently denied it for weeks that followed—but that was the moment the spark between us became a flame, the beginnings of our inevitable blaze.

I fumbled for my training, racking my brain for some pertinent lesson on how to fight off an enemy you couldn’t seem to resist, but the only words of my father’s that surfaced were utterly useless and horrifyingly mad: The truth is that I just knew.

Oh, that's not love, he's just imagining me tottering around in my knickers.

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. And so it’s there that my story begins.

Through the Forging spell, Emarion was broken up into nine realms, each named for one of the Kindred and infused with its patron god’s or goddess’s respective magic.

She looked at me with genuine pain in her eyes. “If she doesn’t fulfill the bargain, then her life would be forfeit. She would be executed by the Crown.

But,” he went on, “sheltering you doesn’t keep you safe forever. 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.

But my mother had held me close, calmed me with soothing words and a tender touch, and broke the news that the man who had sired me had suffered from similar delusions that had driven him to his demise.

Those are the true predators to fear.

His lip quirked again—higher this time. “That, Miss Bellator, is why we call it magic.” Despite the mile-long list of reasons I had to hate him, his answer was so unexpected, so uncharacteristically charming, my grin spread from ear to ear.

the sensation that thrummed along my skin was unlike anything I’d ever felt—like starlight made solid, like holding a shaving of the moon in my hands.

There was something about the imminent terror of losing a

I just... I’ve had a lot on my mind.” “How did that jar even get in my fishing box?

How did that jar even get in my fishing box?

Teller wrinkled his nose at Henri’s dripping sarcasm. “All they talk about is who will take over once the King dies. They’re even taking bets on it. The man’s on his deathbed, and they’re circling like vultures.” “Deathbed?” I frowned. “The King is dying?

For a moment so ephemeral it might not even have lasted a heartbeat, the stony fortress he’d built around himself lowered its gates, allowing a fleeting glimpse at the man who lived within. A man who might be something far different than I had once believed.

I’d never met any other Descended whose power could match mine, but with her, it wasn’t even close. If my magic was a spark, hers was the gods-damned sun.

Love you, Commander.” His shoulders shook with laughter. “Love you too, soldier.

A fragment of memory ripped through me. A man, standing outside the healers’ center, his profile softly lit by the glow of a lantern. Not a patient—a visitor. Whispering with my mother.

You’ll stay with her until I’m back?” “Lumnos herself couldn’t pull me from her side.” More silence. “Cousin... who is this woman to you?” A pause, and a long, heavy sigh. “Eleanor, I... I think she...

It was only the thought of living without her that scared me. Everything else felt trivial in comparison.

gryvern.

What’s the problem?” I bit back. “Scared of a little mortal woman?

I snorted softly. Another thing I had no real knowledge of. I’d never had anything resembling power in my life.

An unbreakable spirit in a world that wanted me to be quiet, small, subservient. But no longer was that spark manifesting in courage or innocent mischief. Now, it had become something destructive. Something deadly.

Close enough to smell the cedar and leather of his woodsy musk.

ancient, something profound passed between us. It was a primal force that transcended word and thought, as powerful as a crack of lightning, a child’s first breath, the endless depth of the sea. It was not of this world but entirely woven within it. It warmed my blood with a calming peace I’d never known, yet filled me with the terrible dread of a fate I could not avoid.

If the death of innocents is a cost we’re willing to pay, then we don’t deserve to be powerful.

our souls calloused from life and loss.

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

Hope without reason is... it's cruel.

War is death and misery and sacrifice, my father had warned me. War is making choices that will haunt you for the rest of your days.

That’s what family is all about. Standing by each other’s side, even when you make the worst mistakes.

I do like it when they fight back,” the shorter one taunted. He took a swig of wine and ran a tongue across his grimy teeth, and I nearly lost my lunch.

My lip curled. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to wash up. Seems I made a mess while saving your people.” I whipped on my heel and stalked away.

klaxons

and

By the Undying Fire,” I swore as I sat upright. “I can’t even die in peace.

And I didn’t want gentle or delicate. I wanted to burn.

I should be grateful. I had a skill, which meant I’d never go hungry. I had a family, which meant I’d never be alone. And I had safety—no enemies, no threats. Provided I could learn to follow the rules, I would live a nice, long life. A safe life. So why did the very thought of it make me want to tear my hair out?

I was trying to keep you from doing something I knew you would regret.” “What I regret is ever joining the Guardians in the first place.” His head jerked back. “One night at the palace and suddenly you’re on their side?

Isn’t it strange that he called for a healer two days after I told you I was willing to help? That timing is—” “A blessing from the Old Gods, that’s what it is.” He shrugged. “When they present an opportunity like this, we have to take it.

I mean it, D. This isn’t like the trouble we used to get into in Mortal City. The Descended kill people like us every day, and they think nothing of it. 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.

Standing in the midst of it, I looked like a glob of mud splashed on a wedding gown.

You didn’t mention there were secret passwords.” “You’ll learn them after the blood rite.” My eyes snapped to him. “Blood rite?” He stared ahead blankly and nodded. “In a minute, you’ll be called up to confess the worst things you’ve ever done so the group has leverage on you if you try to quit. Then we’ll all strip naked and put a drop of blood in a chalice, and you have to drink it. It’s the second test of loyalty.” “Are you out of your Flaming mind?” I hissed. “I am not doing any of that.” “It’s too late. Once you come in the meeting, you can’t leave without taking the blood rite. You’ve already seen too much.

Harder, Your Highness. Willst tho give me permission to come, Your Highness? Let me kneel for you and show the Prince's little prince a good time, Your H-

Luther tensed at the sight of my blood and reached for my arm, sparks of light and shadow swirling at his palm. My other hand shot out to his leg and pressed gently in a wordless order to stand down. He stilled, the softest rumble rolling low in his throat, then slowly eased back into his chair. His hand slid over mine, holding it in place on his thigh.

Teller’s dream was dead, and he didn’t even know it.

Darkness isn’t just the absence of light—it’s the absence of everything.

Unless King Ulther himself is at the door, don’t ever bother me during a meeting again.

perhaps I had a thing for cranky, dangerous beasts.

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.

Warmth spread through me—he’d never looked at me like this, not in an entire lifetime of knowing each other. This was something more than friendship or even love, something that went beyond merely being impressed. This was respect—the kind that could only be earned through trials and proof.

May I?” My brows arched. “Now you ask?” “I wouldn’t want you to think I wasn’t taught to ask for a woman’s consent.

There were so, so many things I would rather have done in that moment than look at Luther. Feed myself to the gryvern. Crawl on my bare hands and knees over the shattered remains of my glass jars. Slowly, reluctantly, I turned to face him.

I’m a powerless, insignificant mortal, remember? What do I know of the world of kings?” “Tell me,” he said, echoing my earlier nudge. His fingers knotted into mine, and this time, there was no question it was intentional. “Be honest,” he said.

Healing now seemed like an absurdly frivolous pursuit. Healing was reactionary. Passive. Being a healer meant sitting idly by and waiting for someone to get hurt. I was sick of waiting. The time had come to fight. And I was ready.

Though the Descended were so lovely it was almost painful to look at them, there was a certain emptiness to the way their beauty had become a standard-issue uniform. Each one of the handful I’d now met were stunning enough to take my breath away—beyond that, I couldn’t recall a single detail more. All except for Luther and his curious scar—another face that haunted my thoughts.

Are you out of your Flaming mind? I hardly know what to yell at you for first!” “We could put them all in a hat, and you could pick one,” I muttered.

I’d always dreamed of living a life worthy of a legacy. Being great was a privilege, and it wasn’t one that mortals in Lumnos were often given. If I wanted to burn my mark into the world, here was my chance to start.

the more I’d soaked alone in the steaming water, the more my mind had flooded with the many demons nipping at my heels. My missing mother. The agreement between her and Prince Luther. Teller’s schooling. The wolf in the woods. The flameroot powder. Each question was a stone slab in a wall surrounding me on all sides, thick and ivy-coated like the one I’d seen encircling the palace gardens, a beautiful but impenetrable cage.

Lumnos tradition dictated a child only move out when they married, and there was little chance of that for either of us any time soon.

Fair point. You do seem to be impressively bad at following orders.” “Thanks,” I said dryly. He smiled. “But you’re very good at your job.

His use of my name—my real name—was its own kind of spark on a pyre of dry kindling. A fiery rush of emotion blazed through my body. Pride mixed with fear, hope wound with determination.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that if I brought this man into my life, it would open a door I could never again close.

Every right that we have, we've had to scrape and claw and kill for.

​In my days as a healer, I’d heard stories of mortals digging into some hidden well of inhuman strength in times of crisis—frantic mothers who single-handedly lifted overturned carriages off their children, delicate ladies hauling a fallen horse away from their beloved trapped beneath. There was something about the imminent terror of losing a loved one that coated our bones in steel and injected our veins with fire, giving us the will to face Death with defiance and push our bodies beyond anything we ever thought ourselves capable of.

Her eyes couldn’t stop trailing my arms, like she might peel back my skin to find some answer hidden beneath.

Between the dead patient, the drunk men, and the blood sun, my day was not off to an auspicious start.

It had lit a spark deep within me, a need for justice, that I was struggling to ignore.

If you value that hand, you’d best remove it from my arm,” I warned.

What’s the problem?” I bit back. “Scared of a little mortal woman?” “Hardly.” His tone was emotionless, matter-of-fact. “Mortal or not, you’d be dead before that dagger left its sheath.

Five minutes, I conceded. You get five minutes to feel sorry for yourself. Then you get up, and you get back to work.

I’d cared. But I’d cared in the ways that affected me. I’d cared when I or the people I knew suffered,

Maybe it only affects women,” I grumbled. “Wouldn’t surprise me. Isn’t it the only realm that’s never had a Queen?” I huffed irritably. “How convenient that their precious magic has never found a woman worthy of the Crown.

A stream of inebriated revelers stumbled through the dusty alleys of Mortal City, their catcalls and slurred words an unwelcome refrain on my walk home.

No commentary?” he asked, sinking to his knees. “I’m disappointed.” “I’m too busy enjoying the view.” I risked a glance down, expecting to see the same obnoxious smirk his guard had worn, but for once, Luther looked as flustered as I felt. If I didn’t feel like my skin was about to spontaneously combust, I might even have enjoyed watching him squirm. And on his knees, no less.

There was something about the imminent terror of losing a loved one that coated our bones in steel and injected our veins with fire, giving us the will to face Death with defiance and push our bodies beyond anything we ever thought ourselves capable of.

Those are some heavy blades you got there. Too heavy for a little lady like you to handle. I think you should hand those over to us.

Then Blessed Mother Lumnos can go freeze in the glaciers of hell with the rest of her kin.

Just make sure he takes the contraceptive tonic first.

Fine. Back to protocol. To please Prince Luther, I’m to stay down on my knees until His Future Majesty is fully and completely satisfied.

War is death and misery and sacrifice. War is making choices that will haunt you for the rest of your days.

think you have a rare gift for seeing a person for who they are, and not just what they are.

If my magic was a spark, hers was the gods-damned sun.

I’d never even seen their magic up close.

Princess Lilian had been so appreciative of my help that she’d given Teller a kiss on the cheek and an open invitation to visit the palace any time.

The peculiar aura that seemed to charge the air in his presence wove its way around me, buzzing against my skin and leaving me feeling like I was swimming a sea of him.

Did they hurt you?” he growled.

Fine,” I growled, dragging myself to my feet. “Leave me alone. I’m up.