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Tristan was a Ghostwalker, a rare breed of Windrider who could hide in plain sight thanks to wings lined with camouflaging feathers. If the boy happened to look up, he would see nothing but an empty treetop.
there was a gentleness in his expressive, honey-brown eyes that she’d never found in the eyes of other Vestian Guards.
“Look, despite my occupation, I’m sympathetic that these noble actions have landed you in a heaping pile of shit. Your motives touch even my cold, black heart,”
Cold, black heart? Ya right 🤣
An unexpected pang of sadness crumpled Cassandra’s chest, as if something was ending before it had scarcely begun.
Same!🥺
“Extracted memories need to be sealed in a vessel within thirty seconds of removal or they dissipate and are lost forever. I have nothing to contain this memory in, so once I pull it, it’s gone. Are you sure you want me to do this?” Cassandra asked, disturbed by her sudden, desperate wish for him to say no.
And now im sad. Wth!
“You’ll remember this night, tiny thief. When we see each other again, you choose whether to remind me or not.”
“I need to know what to call you when you haunt my dreams,” he said, flashing her his widest, most charming smile yet.
WHAT SWOON
She brought the cloak to her nose, and as she closed her eyes and inhaled, she caught a scent she hadn’t noticed until now. An aroma of spicy woods filled her nostrils—like aged oak sprinkled with pepper. Ancient and wild. And newly familiar. Perhaps she wouldn’t be washing the cloak after all.
“We can stuff our faces and I’ll read you my favorite scenes. As long as you promise not to giggle. Nothing like a little sugar and spice
“With that tiny thing? Feels like you’re jamming a baby carrot into my hip. The only emotion you’re likely to draw from me is disappointment.”
Bahahahah 🥕<<🍆
“Good girl,” Tristan purred, taking a sip of his bourbon.
Oh. Okay.
His body went rigid, eyes cold and pledging violent death. “Who did this to you?” “It doesn’t matter, it’s over.” “Who did this?” A strained whisper through grinding teeth.
I LOVE A GOOD, WHO DID THIS TO YOU
She smirked at him. “Reluctant to let me out of your arms, Birdman?” “I’d keep you here forever if you’d let me.” He stroked his index finger along the underside of her breast, and she swatted him, giggling.
“You don’t always have to do everything yourself, Cassandra. It’s not a weakness to ask for help.”
Tristannnnnn❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥
“What you want matters,” he said. “You can’t stifle all your desires in service of others, or you’ll start to resent the people you’re trying to help. Most people, the good ones worth keeping around, want you to be happy too. So, you might as well do some of what you want.”
“Because I know what it’s like to feel trapped and have nowhere to go—to live a life without the freedom of choice. And I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, least of all you.”
