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It feels as though the ground is caving in beneath me. Why couldn’t we have just stayed in that field of poppies? I would spend the rest of my days making her flower crowns if she wanted to be a queen. My queen. Not Kitt’s. Not Ilya’s. Mine.
It was her I was meant to adore in this world and crawl to in the one after.
Because, despite my hope for him, I never truly believed Kitt would strive to make changes that contradicted everything his father told him to believe.
Reading between the lines is rather difficult when they are blurred.
It’s not the Trials themselves I fear—it’s what they will take from me.
It is cruel, not being able to call him mine after everything we’ve endured.
They are a pretty pair, the Azer brothers. And I have the rest of my life to spend with them. Married to one and in love with the other.
I refuse to die until I’m satisfied with the way I lived.
Something broken staggered out of the Bowl Arena that day. And I have only been stronger for it.
Every moment with her is spent mourning the next, awaiting the day we speak for the last time.
“If you’re going to continually lie about wanting me, at least try to make it believable.”
“You know,” she says slowly, “you’re not nearly as terrifying as you seem.” “Not to you. Never to you.”
“Damn fate, and duty, and every other word meant to keep us apart.”
Every beast can be defeated.
My heart aches for this boy who never got to be one.
My soul is hopelessly tethered to his.
“Paedyn, I love you. Like nothing else before, I love you. And I’ve been waiting to tell you since I realized your eyes are my favorite color and your freckles the only constellation worth looking at. I could lie—say that you’ve stolen my every thought and heartbeat like the thief you are, but all of me was already yours. Pae, you are my inevitable.”
Love. That is what this feeling is. And it is all-consuming.
There is strength in sacrifice.
“You really are becoming quite the gentleman.” “Only for you, darling.”
Looking at Paedyn Gray, I see a reckless sort of fearlessness, a power that swells from her vibrant soul.
In my search for comfort, it is him I crawl back to. Peace is the place he resides, and passion is a word I only understand when I look into his eyes. He is the freedom I cannot grasp. We are inevitable. We are tragedy.
“I love you, Pae.” I say this sternly, unforgivingly. “And I am honored to get the chance to.”
Kitt Azer was at war with himself, the pen his weapon and the parchment his foe. The battle that raged behind his eyes was one he fought alone until the very end.
Nothing is stronger than a woman who is told she’s weak.
It was the gentleness with which he loved, even when he grieved, that made me break.
