Shadow & Storms (The Legends of Thezmarr, #4)

by Helen Scheuerer

For he knew in his bones that she would emerge victorious, Naarvian steel in hand, vows of vengeance on her tongue. And that she would come for him.

The thought was bittersweet, for she’d won the Great Rite and achieved what she’d always wanted, only to have lost something more precious when she emerged.

💔💔💔💔💔💔

For him, the world would wait. And when he was safe at her side, they could watch the whole fucking thing go up in flames to be reborn anew.

‘Then the world will know that if they hurt him, I’ll burn them all to the ground.’

As blood dripped from Wilder’s swords, that brilliant white light flared again. At last, he tasted the storm on his lips, and looked up.

She broke away, panting. ‘I love you,’ she gasped, refusing to tear her eyes away from him. ‘I love you so much I can hardly breathe. I’ve wanted to say it for so long —’ Wilder gave a hoarse, broken laugh. ‘Tell me again later. Tell me when we’re safe.’ Thea kissed him again, desperate to show him that tempest he’d brought to life within her from the moment they’d met. ‘I’ll tell you every day until my last,’ she murmured.

‘You’re dead anyway,’ she promised. ‘But touch him again, I dare you.’

‘I am the storm,’ she told herself. She let her lightning rage, right alongside her heart, and she split the gods-damned tower in two.

‘No,’ Anya agreed. ‘But what rises from the ashes, Thea? A phoenix, that’s what.’

I told her: a true man won’t cut you down as you fight your battles… A true man helps sharpen your sword, guards your back and fights at your side.’

‘Shadow and storms. A reckoning. I have seen that gold will turn to silver in a blaze of iron and embers, giving rise to ancient power long forgotten. And I have seen your fates,’ she told them. ‘They are tangled. I cannot discern one from the next, only that they meet in a dawn of fire and blood.’

you, from what I’ve seen, you’ve got the most control.’ ‘Hey!’ Thea protested. Kipp scoffed. ‘Please. Half the time your magic is as much a temper tantrum as it is a power.’ Wilder bit a knuckle to keep from laughing at that.

‘Has anyone seen Audra?’ she

Please tell me she isassembling the womanwarriorrs

Don’t let the world – don’t let anyone convince you that you’re not enough. Only you define your story. You and you alone. When they tell you what you’re not, when they tell you what you can’t do, remember: you are the storm, Elwren. You split the skies and flood the plains. You make the ground tremble beneath their boots. No one can fucking stop you.’

‘Furies save me,’ he rasped. ‘Are you trying to get me killed again, Thea? Don’t tell the Warsword you love me.’

he washed the grime from her face first, his touch so careful, so reverent, rinsing the cloth each time. The soap smelt of him, of rosewood and leather, of home. Thea reached for him, but her Warsword clasped her hands in his. ‘I should have done this after our first battle together,’ he told her. ‘Allow me the honour now. Please.’

‘I figured there will always be monsters in this world. And that I’d gladly hunt them with you forever.’ ‘Forever is a long time.’ ‘Even if I had forever, it would not be enough time with you.’

At the heart of all that darkness was Princess Jasira.

I fucking knewwwwww

‘We are all daughters of darkness, Thea. We were born into a world of it, a place that would dictate the way in which we defend ourselves, the way we live our lives. No more. That world is no longer. And the next one will be what we make it.’

Wilder saw the conflict in her eyes, the unbroken swell of a summer storm.

He held out the arrow to her, and when she took it from him with a look of disbelief, he smiled. She turned it over in her hands, eyes wide. ‘You kept it?’ It was the arrow he’d shot at her when he’d found her spying on the shieldbearers in the Bloodwoods. The arrow that she’d gripped in the tree above her as he’d fucked her for the first time. ‘Of course I kept it,’ he told her. ‘It’s always been you, Thea. And as long as I’m with you, you’re the only home I’ll ever need.’

‘Where are your daggers?’ The jewelled weapons had been a part of Audra for as long as Thea could remember. She was never seen without them strapped to her belt. ‘I had to give them back sometime,’ Audra replied, with a note of amusement. ‘Back to who?’ Thea blinked. ‘Weren’t they yours?’ ‘More of a long-term loan…’ Audra’s eyes twinkled. ‘From Iseldra, Morwynn and Valdara.’ ‘The daggers belong to the Furies?’

Tea. The word reverberated through Thea as her gaze dropped to the seemingly innocent pot. But there was nothing innocent about it. It was Wren’s own invention. The Ladies’ Luncheon.