When the Moon Hatched (Moonfall, #1)

by Sarah A. Parker

Ignos was a glutton for Clode. The God of Fire feasted on her. Consumed her. Loved her so much he could not breathe without her.

The dragons.

Preparation is my armor. Don it or die.

Here, it’s easy to pretend our colorful kingdom isn’t nesting on a bed of bones.

A boastful token of their ability to hear the different elemental songs: Red for Ignos. Blue for Rayne. Brown for Bulder. Clear for Clode.

Places to be, hands to sever.

Survival’s funny. Some wear it like a whisper, others like a scream. Mine’s a scorched skeleton of flame-forged rage that keeps me upright. Keeps me moving forward.

A-S-S. Self-explanatory.

‘Your family sends their regards,’ I sneer, then slash my blade through his throat.

Sadness is like stones that stack inside you, making it harder to move. Ignorance is my self-preservation tonic, and I’ll swear by it until I die.

A stark reminder that the hand that gives can just as greedily take away.

Well, he needs to die.

broken things make the sharpest weapons

I would’ve split the world if it did. Then split my fucking self. She uses the dressing to blot