All This Twisted Glory (This Woven Kingdom, #3)

by Tahereh Mafi

Her lips had parted under the weight of his silent want, her mouth growing heavy with the sound of his name and a desperate, foolish impulse to whisper the word against his skin.

The resolve with which she pursued him now—as if she had any idea what she was doing—was so endearing it angered him. For as long as he lived he feared he’d know the scent of her, the sound of her walking toward him. She was a fool to think otherwise.

Her ultimate show of compassion toward him had been his undoing, for this, layered upon all else, had proven she was every inch the angelic figure he’d cherished in his dreams.

God, he’d wanted her. He’d wanted her with an all-consuming thirst, with the desperation of a man waiting to die.

Fate, he thought bitterly, was only romantic when one was destined to be the hero.

He longed for her warmth, for her radiance. She’d been, from the first moment she’d wandered into his dreams, an enduring flame in the endless night, his only haven in the madness that inhaled him. This was his real weakness, and the devil had marked him easily.

He knew at once he’d been tricked; he knew at once she was an instrument of the devil, sent to ruin him. And yet, he weakened each time she looked in his direction. His need grew only more explosive as she solidified into someone real; always he desired another glance, another accidental graze of her skin—

“It’s never been done,” he whispered. “No man has ever wagered against the devil and won.”

“I want it all, angel. Not just your joy but your sorrow. Not just your hope but your fear. I want your anger and disdain, your frustration and contempt—”

We are a people with no nation, expelled from our own land, the earth under our feet stolen by Clay kings. For so long we’ve been waiting for the heir to our empire, the one who will protect and unify our people.

“Master yourself so that you will never be mastered. Know yourself so that you might live with conviction. Live with conviction so that your steps never falter.”

“When you suffer,” Rostam went on, “you can choose to endure, or you can choose to overcome.”