Two Twisted Crowns (The Shepherd King, #2)

by Rachel Gillig

My voice sounded like tearing paper. “Let me out.” I said it over and over, briny water filling my mouth. “Let me out.”

In his absence, I tried to piece the shattered mirror of my memories back together. I remembered impressions—colors and smells and

But an airing of truths, after so much malice, was the best they could do. The Nightmare’s gaze drifted up the fort walls. “I’ve had enough of this wretched place. Give me the knife.”

“Everything. In terrible, wonderful excess. Joy, anger, compassion, revulsion—” Her voice chilled on the word. “Love. I knew them all

“Sit down, Ravyn Yew. I’m going to fix your broken beak.”

thousand rose petals falling over him. You are in no danger of losing me—your sister—your friends. There is no weakness in pain, Ravyn.

Death demands to be felt. It wasn’t just Gorse who died in that courtyard today.” His yellow gaze reached into the darkest parts of Ravyn. “But the Captain of the Destriers as well.”

For the first time since he’d stood on that drawbridge and watched Ravyn ride away, Elm felt light. Like someone had punched a hole in Stone’s ancient walls and let in the day.

No one who feels nothing would work so tirelessly to get their feelings back. I also know you love Elspeth—and not despite her infection. You simply love her.”

He memorized the map of her arms over his chest, perfect lines, she the stylus and he the paper. Her voice fluttered past his ear. “Are you awake?”

And suddenly it was not Hauth that we were looking at—but another man with cunning green eyes. Brutus Rowan.