Cress (The Lunar Chronicles, #3)

by Marissa Meyer

This was not the fantasy she’d dreamed up a hundred times. What had she said in all those dreams? How had she acted? Who had that person been?

Thorne’s hands found her elbows, tender and gentle. There was a moment in which she expected to be taken into his arms, pressed warm and safe against his chest. She yearned for it. But instead, he shook her—hard.

she felt the familiar comfort of her imagination wrapping around her.

“I,” he began, speaking slowly, “am not happy with this turn of events.”

But now he was a wreck, with whiskers on his chin and dirt in his hair. It did not make him any less handsome.

“Captain,” she murmured. “I think I’m in love with you.” An eyebrow shot up. She counted six beats of his heart before, suddenly, he laughed. “Don’t tell me it took you two whole days to realize that. I must be losing my touch.”

him. “You knew?” “That you’re lonely, and I’m irresistible? Yeah. I knew.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said, squeezing. “Maybe there’s a little bit of a hero in me after all. But … really, Cress. Only a little.”

Part of her felt like she should take Wolf’s hand, but the most intimate contact she’d ever had with him before was the occasional friendly punch to the jaw.

She was a girl. A living girl, smart and sweet and awkward and unusual, and she was worth far more than they could ever realize.

She’s just a Lunar shell—she isn’t worth it.” “If you honestly believe that,” said Thorne, stowing the gun again, “then you really don’t recognize true value when you see it.”

Thorne would come for her. He was a hero. She was a damsel. That’s how the stories went—that’s how they always went.

He beamed, looking for all the world like a selfless, daring hero.

The Lunar boy couldn’t have been more than eight years old, and yet Scarlet was certain that she would wring his neck like a chicken if she ever got the chance. He was, without a doubt, the most horrible child that ever lived.

“Yes, Iko?” “That is the best idea ever. Count me in.”

everyone was all too aware of how easily this plan could fall apart without him. Without any of them.

Another girl entered behind her and shut the door. She was a little taller, with light brown skin and blue hair, though Kai couldn’t spare her more than a cursory glance. Because Cinder was there.

The wedding. He’d almost forgotten about it, and he was the one in groom’s clothes.

“It’s not your decision to make.” “I’m making it anyway.”

“You, uh…” He gestured halfheartedly. “You dropped that.”

Then she raised her hand and shot him.

Her father was alive. Her father was dying. Her father was here, in front of her, almost in arm’s reach. But he would be left here to die, and she would never see him again.

Then he was kissing her. The battle became a hurricane, with them caught in the eye—

One thing she knew for sure, though, was that she no longer needed to be rescued.

“Are you all right?” “Not really.”

Her sadness wasn’t enough. Her mourning wasn’t enough. But it was all she had.

I’m beginning to think that maybe great, epic romances don’t just happen. We have to make them ourselves.”

“We need to talk,” said Kai. Thorne let out a slow whistle. “No one ever likes to hear those words.”

“Well, believe it or not, we didn’t just do this for you. We’re trying to save the whole world from your power-crazy fiancée.

Cinder furrowed her brow. “A revolutionary,” she repeated. She liked that a lot better than princess.