More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
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.
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.’
