Of Blades and Wings (Flame Cursed Fae, #1)

by Eliza Raine

Do what you can. Ignore what you can’t.

For a beat, the constant pull in my mind wins the battle for control, and I start to slip, curiosity burning as reality fades.

Magical AHDH

And if you need to have a small breakdown, you can do it later, when you are alone.

My sister would have blanched at her cursing—she says things like "by Loki's underwear" when she is annoyed—but the books I like to read are filled with words much ruder than fuck. I quite like cursing.

I am not helpless, I say to myself fiercely. I'm just… starting a couple of rungs lower than some others.

"Eat. Rest. Do better tomorrow."

Normally, I would struggle to sit still for two hours, but the time moves quickly because I'm interested in just about everything she has to say.

Magical ADHD

"If you're serious about becoming fitter, then you start now," she says. I want to argue. I want to go and eat a load of pastry and cheese. But she's right.

Somewhat unsurprisingly, the story takes a lewd turn once the fighting is done, as is common in bard's stories and songs in Yggdrasil. Fight, fuck, repeat. The warrior's way.

"You need to strengthen your muscles," she says. "You're not guilting me out of eating this dessert," I tell her.

Every day I wake up could be my last. I am here, and I will damn well make the most of it before the lights go out forever.

"Is this a stolen brandy type of moment?" "Yes. Definitely."

He's naked. As naked as I was this morning. Completely, gloriously, unclothed. His huge, solid chest is covered in silver hair and scars, and my eyes travel south. A fucking army of Valkyrie couldn't have stopped them.

"My eyes are up here, princess," he rasps.