A Tribute of Fire (The Eye of the Goddess, #1)

by Sariah Wilson

A warrior who sweats more in training bleeds less in war.”

“You will be the one to carry this legacy forward. You will keep the word. Someone in Locris must remember the old ways, how we worshipped the goddess, and find a way to regain her favor to restore our lands. Your older sister will marry and leave. Your brother will be beholden to the law and his people. But you? You will have a choice about your life’s path. And you should choose to remember what was and what might be.”

“It’s easier for women to believe in magic because we have the ability to make life and carry it inside us. We’re already magic. And it is a magic no man will ever understand.”

And as soon as I saw his face, my heart whispered, Oh, there you are. I’ve been waiting for you.

“The code says that there is no honor in a man who rushes to war because he doesn’t care if he dies. There is valor in battle for those who desire to live. Courage can only exist in the same space that fear does.”

“In the stories, the beasts that must be vanquished are always female. Have you ever wondered why? It is because men have always feared women’s destructive potential. Knowledge gives us power. Your power is a threat. Especially the women in this room.”

It might have been my fevered brain, but I would have sworn that I detected the faint scent of irises. Like the goddess had marked him just for me.

“I ask myself the same thing. It’s like we’re two flames, drawn to each other, meant to burn brightly together.” “That also means we can destroy one another.”

He kissed me like he hadn’t eaten in months and I was a table laden with all of his favorite foods. He devoured me.

That wasn’t accurate. Because I was burning for him—every part of me he touched, he scalded. I was afraid that no part of my body would feel like my own again. That it would always be a place that Jason had touched or caressed or kissed, because I could feel him all over me. Even when his hands and fingers moved to a new spot, that phantom imprint stayed behind.

“You feel like magic,” I said into his mouth.

He made me feel like a newly created sword being thrust into a fiery heat, and he would forge me into something new with his kiss and his touch.

“You’re mine,” he told me in a tone that brooked no argument.

Now I understood the urge to bite. To devour.

Like the goddess herself ordained it. As if you were made for me. I feel so much that whenever I see you, I forget myself and all I want is to touch you and kiss you and let the world fall away.”

“Because I will see you. There will be obstacles in our path, but we are fated. Destined. I know us and what we will be. I know you.”