Onyx Storm (The Empyrean #3)

by Rebecca Yarros

never met a more powerful storm wielder than Mom. Until now.

“Then let us be menaces,” Feirge snarls,

Fuck you. My daughter and I will meet Malek with clean consciences. Will you and your daughters be able to say the same when they come for you? —The last words of Tracila Cardulo (redacted)

“And you should tell him, Gen. Tell him, and you find some happy.”

Aw stop

“You’re mine, and I love you, too.” Her smile slips and another tear falls. “I’m scared. I don’t want to be scared.”

Wait im crying

“Don’t be scared.” I shake my head and force a smile. “My mom will take care of you. And Katrina, too.” My mouth quivers. “She’s a little bossy, but she’ll be thrilled to have another little sister. I talk about you all the time. They’ll know who you are. Don’t be scared.” Her next breath is strained and watery. “They’ll know me.” I nod. “They’ll know you and they’ll love you. It’s impossible not to love you.”

NOOOO THE BESTIES

Hi! I’m Quinn Hollis. I’ve decided we should be friends. That’s what she said to me as we climbed the turret on Conscription Day. You do realize we’re about to cross the walkway of death. Well, then it might be a short friendship, but we’ll make it a good one.

Im literally sobbing

“I’m not leaving her!” “I’m not leaving you

Omg they need to smooch

A gift from one servant of Dunne to another. I must warn you—only those touched by the gods should wield their wrath. I will pray to Her that she need not use it to avoid reacquainting herself with the other who curries her favor. Her path is still not set. —Recovered Correspondence of High Priestess Deservee to His Royal Highness, Cadet Aaric Graycastle, Prince Camlaen of Navarre

THE OTHER WHO CURRIES HER FAVOR?

For when you lose yours. Strike in the dark, Violet.

ceremonial-looking dagger with familiar flame-shaped etchings along the hilt.

fury of an onyx storm

TITLEEEE

“He’s a fucking precog,” I whisper in awe. A real one—not like Melgren, who can only foresee battles. If Aaric wields true precognition, he saw this, and he gave me a weapon made of the fractured temple—a temple Theophanie can’t step inside. I don’t believe in oracles, but I do believe in signets.

OH SHIT

A wall that snarls. Scales shimmer to the same silver-blue as my strike, and a small dragon stalks toward Theophanie, her head low, teeth bared.

SHUTUPPPPPPPP

“Stone doesn’t kill venin.” “You were never just venin,” I reply. “Dunne is a wrathful goddess to high priestesses who turn their backs on Her.”

OH SHIT

How much information has he sold to the enemy? Certainly enough to lure us all to Draithus. How many times did he give them Violet’s location?

Omg panchek u bastard

I’m no longer on the ice—I am the ice.

XADEN NOOO

Berwyn’s unconscious body. I’d kill him if I could. Fuck, I thought I had.

Oh fucking christ

But beyond the physical impossibility of it, he has something I need. And I’m no longer an initiate.

This is terrible .

What even am I? Hers.

“I will not let them burn you,” Andarna vows. “What?” My head whips her way. “Why would my brother burn me?” And why in Dunne’s name would I be sitting on gravel in the courtyard? My thoughts are…slow. Something’s off. Something’s wrong.

WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

six missing eggs from the hatching ground,

and a beautiful gold ring with an emerald the size of my thumbnail sits on my hand.

What is happening .

“It’s an official blessing of your legal, binding marriage,” Brennan whispers, stunned, then quickly rolls the parchment. “By the head priestess of Dunne’s temple.”

WHAT WHAT WHAT

Don’t look for me. It’s yours now. He’s gone.

WHATTTT