Princes of Ash (Royals of Forsyth University, #8)

by Angel Lawson

Sleep greets me like moth wings, fluttering in and out.

One day, my brothers and I just stopped caring about the future because we didn’t have the capacity. Not when all of our energy was spent making it through the week—the day—the hour.

“And she’s more than just a bird to him, isn’t she? She’s… she’s his heart.” Holding my eyes, her head tilts pensively. “It’s like he was afraid of having a soul, so he gave it to her to keep safe. Something untainted that would love him back.”

My sleep comes in fits, filled with dark dreams that linger with the lack of sunlight. I have nothing to do but rest, although I feel lethargic and gross. It’s as if I’m wasting away like all those dead flowers in the solarium.