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680 pages, Paperback
First published March 30, 2021
“Creating is harder than destroying. In the end it’s always worth it.”
"We are children of fallen gods and lost empires. We are the memories of bones in the plains. And we are more than they ever thought we would be."
I had made a deal, after all. The Orders gave me the power I needed to topple the Threllian Lords and save those I left behind. But in exchange, I sold myself back into slavery. Except now, I would wield death, instead of light touches and pretty words.
“(...) of course you will want to make a better world than they did. You will build upon what they gave you. You will draw from their strengths and confront their mistakes. You will make something better because that is what you do. You dream, Max. And I love that in you.”
Home. The word caught and settled, deep in my chest. But home wasn’t Korvius, or the Towers, or even a cottage in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by flowers. Home was a pair of mismatched eyes, an accented voice, and a heartbeat that followed the same cadence as mine. And I was so, so homesick.
“I’d tell you not to do anything stupid,” Sammerin said, “but that would be useless and outdated advice.”
“Thank you, Sammerin. I, too, treasure our friendship.”
“I know this isn’t morally good,” Nura said. “I know it isn’t right. But I’ve made the hard choices before, and I’ll do it again if it means saving this country. Someone has to. You saw what I saw — what failure means. We need to be more powerful than that, no matter what it takes.”
“You were the one who wanted to save the world,” he said, quietly. “I just wanted to save you.”
“If you can do it, I can do it.” His hand lifted to brush my cheek, then he said, more softly,
“I don’t care what we’re walking into. You’re not going to do it alone.”
“You deserve everything,” I murmured. I bowed my head, breathing in the scent of her hair, her skin, and swept my lips over her cheek, right where tan skin met white. She gave a weak laugh.
“Everything?”
“Everything.” My lips traveled to her jaw, and I felt her let out a little breath.
"It was always so easy, after all, to feel Max’s love. It radiated from him like the warmth of his skin. He didn’t need to say it. A brush of my hand. I love you. A conspiratorial half smile. I love you. A wrinkle of concern between his brows. I love you. And even here, even now, with him half a country away. I felt it here, in the words he did write and the ones he didn’t. I love you, you wonderful idiot."
“You were the one who wanted to save the world,” he said, quietly. “I just wanted to save you.”
He dropped to his knees, bowing his forehead against mine. One hand brushed my cheek. “What happened?” he whispered. “Tell me what happened.”


“you were the one who wanted to save the world. i just wanted to save you.”
“you make me selfish. you make me want. and nothing has ever been enough, except for you.”
It began with a whisper and it will end with a scream.
I do not think so,} it whispered. {Perhaps once I was something. But I do not remember what. And maybe I have never been anything but the discarded remains of others.
❁ Home. The word caught and settled, deep in my chest. But home wasn’t Korvius, or the Towers, or even a cottage in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by flowers. Home was a pair of mismatched eyes, an accented voice, and a heartbeat that followed the same cadence as mine. And I was so, so homesick.
❁ At least the first time I sold my soul to the Orders, I was too young and stupid to know that I was just driving a dagger into my own gut.
This time, I felt every inch of the blade.
❁ It took everything in me not to correct him — No, that isn’t what I said. He was a good man, not a good soldier, and one is worth a thousand times the other.
❁ "Finally, I wrote:
Tisaanah,.
Tell me you’re alright, you wonderful idiot.
Max.
I stared at the page. Then, I wedged one additional word in between the lines:
Tisaanah,
Tell me you’re alright, you wonderful idiot.
Love,
Max.
It would win no poetry awards. And the words were far too weak to describe what I felt."
❁ I missed certainty.
But then…
My awareness returned to Tisaanah’s weight against my chest. The warmth of her breath on the underside of my chin. The strand of hair that kept tickling my nose.
But then, I thought, there is this
❁ Because every time I thought of a future, it wore Tisaanah’s face. If she died, it would die with her.
It began with a whisper and it will end with a scream. What comes between is still to be seen.Tisaanah and Max are, as always, the yin to the other's yang; there to temper one another, encourage one another, love one another, and face the demons they both have together.
And so I wait.
"If you can do it, I can do it."--> (AN ANTHEM!)