What Members of Reading with Style Are Saying About…

“What happened, Alina?”
I saw him. “I told you: I was tired. I lost focus.”
He drew back. “If you want to lie to me, go ahead. But I’m not going to pretend to believe you.”

“Might I suggest gold?” Nikolai went on. “Very regal, very appropriate—”
“Very tacky?”
“Gold and black would be best. Perfect symbolism and—”
“No black,” Mal said. He pushed back from the table and, without another word, disappeared into the crowded room.

“By helping me unite the First and Second Armies. By becoming my Queen.”
Before I could blink, Mal had shoved the table aside and closed in on Sturmhond, lifting him off his feet and slamming him into the tent post. Sturmhond winced but made no move to fight back.

Sturmhond gave a dismissive wave. “I’m a depraved monster, I know. Just think about what I’m saying for a moment.”
“I don’t need to think about it,” Mal shouted. “And neither does she. It isn’t going to happen.”

“And what about you?” Sergei asked Mal. “I’m just a soldier,” Mal replied, moving to stand beside me. “Her soldier.”

Mal pulled me closer. “Were you always this much trouble?”
“I like to think of myself as delightfully complex.”
As he bent to kiss me, Sturmhond’s voice cut through the dark. “Can we get to the cuddling later? I want us ashore before dawn.”

“Those are supposed to be my fingers?” “Knuckles, toes, fragments of rib.” I felt sick. I looked around, hoping to spot Mal, needing to see something familiar.

He dropped his hand. “He doesn’t belong here.”
He belongs with me, I wanted to shout.