The Dagger and the Flame (The City of Fantome, #1)

by Catherine Doyle

The light crept in through Seraphine’s window and danced along the pages of her book, and for a moment, she imagined the curious moon was reading over her shoulder.

she still pretended to believe him.

Gaspard Dufort had even gotten his hands dirty?

Take only what your cloak can carry, and your conscience can bear.

On Sera’s third night, after a couple of glasses of wine, Bibi had confessed to her secret undying love for Alaina, only to staunchly deny the crush the following morning.

It was only after he disappeared that she wondered how he knew her name.

Ooo suspicious

She shrugged, embarrassed not to know the answer, to have never asked. “Um. A mother’s love?” “Powerful stuff.” He let go of the necklace. “Right, I think I’ve got everything I need.”

Im dead

When the world is at its darkest, we must reach bravely through the shadows to find where the light blooms.

Is she the original flame hmmm

“I never got to the mark. I was on my way across the river when I ran into a monster.” He frowned at the memory. “Well. It ran through me.” Dufort sat up straight, the blood draining from his cheeks. “So, the rumors are true.”

Another question gripped him, so tight he couldn’t breathe from the hope of it… Could she burn all the poison away, so that he could crawl out of this cruel place and leave behind the yawning hollow of darkness that would one day swallow him whole?

Ransom. The Dagger’s name was Ransom. Living, breathing, seething Ransom. What the hell kind of a name was Ransom?

I was thinking the same thing girly

She tightened her grip on it, her words coming in a whisper. “A tiny, ancient piece of paper…” His throat bobbed, his expression hungry. “What does it say?”

“The thing that attacked me was Kipp.” Nadia stopped walking. “You’re wrong.” He tugged her on. “I wish I was.”

He would have taken ten trowels to the face over another minute of those deep, gasping sobs.

You lust-addled Neanderthal. You’re standing in a fucking tomb.

She made her tongue work, forcing the words out before shame got the better of her. “Because Gaspard Dufort is my father.”

As thunder rolled across the darkening sky, he stalked from the graveyard and into the heart of the storm, hoping he was not too late.

Ofc he let her down

She could still trace the hardness of him where they were pressed together. As he slipped his hand from her waistband, she saw that his knuckles were absent of shadow-marks. She grabbed the other hand, examining his wrist and forearm. There wasn’t a single whorl left.

Her cloak—her pleasure—had obliterated every single one of them.

Now thats fucking wild

You shattered the darkness, Seraphine. And I realize now that all these years I wasn’t wishing for freedom. I was wishing for you.”

I need this kind of devotion in my life pls give me a man written by a woman

If he stayed and took that ring for his own, he would be able to stand between Seraphine and the Order of Daggers. Not just a leader, but a shield.

Dang it

“On the contrary, Bastian. I think it matters now, more than ever.” He shook off her words and walked on, even as they floated after him. “The strands of destiny are not yet done with you.”