Cress (The Lunar Chronicles, #3)

by Marissa Meyer

“Let’s begin again, with some proper introductions. Did I hear your name was Crescent?” “Just Cress, please.” He extended a hand toward her. When she gave him hers, he tugged her closer, bent his head, and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. Cress stiffened and swooned, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her. “Captain Carswell Thorne, at your service.”

Your honor, I love them. This is my ship and I will ship it to the moon and back.

“I am an explorer,” she whispered, “setting courageously off into the wild unknown.” It was not a daydream she’d ever had before, but she felt the familiar comfort of her imagination wrapping around her. She was an archaeologist, a scientist, a treasure hunter. She was a master of land and sea. “My life is an adventure,” she said, growing confident as she opened her eyes again. “I will not be shackled to this satellite anymore.” Thorne tilted his head to one side. He waited for three heartbeats before sliding one hand down into hers. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. “But we’ll go with it.”

Oh Cress, I absolutely love the way you choose to view the world. This is the Rapunzel/Flynn teamup of my dreams.

“How are your eyes?” she asked. “Well, I’ve been told they’re dreamy, but I’ll let you decide for yourself.”

“Well—so maybe this is the worst I’ve been through. But it doesn’t change the fact that we’re going to survive. We’ll find civilization, we’ll comm the Rampion, and they’ll come get us. Then we’ll overthrow Levana and I’ll get loads of reward money and the Commonwealth will pardon my crimes or whatever and we’ll all live happily ever after.” Cress nestled against Thorne’s side, trying to believe him. “But first, we have to get out of this desert.” He rubbed her shoulder. It was the kind of touch that would have filled her with giddiness and yearning if she hadn’t been too tired to feel anything. “You have to trust me, Cress. I’m going to get us out of this.”

Let me state for the record, once again, I love them Your Honor. Roguish captain and plucky female lead willing to fight absolutely EVERYTHING is the ship of my heart every single time.

“Right. I’m sure that poor etiquette is the number one reason for most failed revolutions.”

“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.”

He crouched close to her and felt for her face. “I promise, I will not let you die without being kissed.” “I’m dying now.” “You are not dying.” “But—” “I will be the judge of when you are dying, and when that happens, I guarantee you will get a kiss worth waiting for. But right now, you have to get up.”

“For having such limited social experience, you, my dear, are an excellent judge of character.” “I don’t need experience. You can try to hide it behind your bad reputation and criminal escapades, but I can see the truth.” Still beaming, he nudged her with his shoulder. “That on the inside, I’m really just a sappy, lovelorn romantic?” She dug her toes into the sand. “No … that you’re a hero.”

She gulped. “Um. Well. There’s … a bed.” Thorne gasped. “What? This hotel room comes with a bed?” She scowled. “I mean, there’s only one.” “We are married, darling.”

“Where did you learn to sing like that?” Her face flamed. “I—I don’t—I’m not wearing any clothes!” He raised an eyebrow. “Yes. I’m aware of that.” He pointed to his eyes. “No need to rub it in.”

“Be honest. Do I look like a famous wanted criminal right now?” He struck a pose, complete with dazzling smile. With the messy hair, filthy clothes, and bandanna, she had to admit that he was almost unrecognizable from his prison photo. Yet somehow still heart-throbbingly gorgeous. She sighed. “No. You don’t.”

SCREAMING. I love them so much.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s a guy who goes berserk when he gets caught cheating. If you’re going to do it, you have to be ready to take the fallout like a man.”

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’ll already be sold, and that old man isn’t going to pay for her twice. You should just cut your losses and move on. 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.”

“And yet,” said Torin, “I believe it is the mark of a great leader to question the decisions that came before him. Perhaps, once we’ve solved some of our more immediate problems, we can readdress this.”

We are a society that values human life—all human life. The purpose of our research facilities is to stanch the loss of that life as quickly and humanely as possible. The draft went against that value and, I believe, belittled all that we have accomplished in the one hundred and twenty-six years since our country was formed. Our country was built on a foundation of equality and togetherness, not prejudice and hatred.”

But I could not stand by while our citizens were being forced to sacrifice their lives under a mistaken belief that their lives are less valuable than those of their peers.

“Your ship has some messed-up priorities, you know that?” “Iko. My name is Iko. If you don’t stop calling me the ‘ship,’ I am going to make sure you never have hot water during your showers again, do you understand me?”

“I’m not just doing this for Kai.” Cinder dropped her hand to her side. “I’m doing this because I’m the only one who can. I’m going to overthrow Levana. I’m going to make

“She’s my alpha,” he murmured, with a haunting sadness in his voice. Alpha. Cress leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees. “Like the star?” “What star?” She stiffened, instantly embarrassed, and scooted back from him again. “Oh. Um. In a constellation, the brightest star is called the alpha. I thought maybe you meant that she’s … like … your brightest star.”

But instead of sneering or laughing, Wolf sighed. “Yes,” he said, his gaze climbing up to the full moon that had emerged over the city. “Exactly like that.”

“How many?” Thorne asked. “Mistress Sybil in front of us,” said Cress, “and six Lunar guards behind.” After the slightest hesitation, Thorne nodded. “I accept those odds.”

Carswell Thorne is a Han Solo "Never tell me the odds" type. But when you do, he accepts them and makes plans to punch them in the face.

“I guess it’s time.” While Cress’s thoughts continued to churn through the horrible things that could happen to her, she felt herself being suddenly spun around and dipped backward, a supportive arm scooping beneath her back. She yelped and caught herself on Thorne’s shoulder. Then he was kissing her. The battle became a hurricane, with them caught in the eye—his arms cradling her against the wind, her skirt billowing around his legs, his lips gentle but coaxing as if they had all the time in the world. Warmth overtook her and Cress closed her eyes. She thought her arms wanted to wrap around his neck, but her whole body was vibrating and dizzy and she could barely keep her fingers clutched around the fabric of his shirt. She had just finished melting when she was suddenly righted again. The

“Listen, Cress,” he murmured against her hair once her breaths were almost stable. “I’m not an expert by any means, but I know you didn’t do anything wrong today. You shouldn’t tell someone you love them unless you mean it.” She sniffed. “But I thought you said you’ve told lots of girls that you loved them.” “Which is exactly why I’m not an expert. Thing is, I didn’t love any of them. I’m honestly not sure I would recognize real love if it was…” She swiped the back of her hand over her damp cheeks. “If it was what?”

“So given all this new information, you, uh, probably don’t think you’re still in love with me. Do you?” She shrank into her chair, sure that if he could see her now, he would know. The truth would be evident in every angle of her face.

She loved him more than ever. And not because she’d scoured file after file of reports and summaries and data and photographs. Not because he was the dreamy, untouchable Carswell Thorne that she’d imagined kissing on the banks of a starlit river while fireworks exploded overhead and violins played in the background. Now he was the Carswell Thorne who had given her strength in the desert. Who had come for her when she was kidnapped. Who had kissed her when hope was lost and death was imminent.

“Do you think it was destiny that brought us together?” He squinted and, after a thoughtful moment, shook his head. “No. I’m pretty sure it was Cinder.

Maybe there isn’t such a thing as fate. Maybe it’s just the opportunities we’re given, and what we do with them. I’m beginning to think that maybe great, epic romances don’t just happen. We have to make them ourselves.”

Cyborg. Lunar. Princess. No more secrets. No more lies. Well, just one. She thought she might be a tiny bit in love with him.

“You said yourself that the people of Luna need a revolutionary.” She lifted her chin, holding his gaze. “So I’m going to Luna, and I’m going to start a revolution.”