Golden Son (Red Rising Saga, #2)

by Pierce Brown

He waits for me to moan a grievance at the mention of a story, and when I don’t, his tone sinks into deeper gravity.

‘Home isn’t where you’re from, it’s where you find light when all grows dark.’ ” He grasps the top of my hand. “Find your home, Darrow. It may not be in the past. But find it, and you’ll never be lost again.”

Second eyes, tattoos on the backs of his eyelids, are strange, pupils like those of a dragon or a snake, so that when he blinks, his animal soul sees into the world around.

I let my eyelids drift shut and I sigh deeply, allowing myself to sink into the soft pleasures of being human.

“Friendships take minutes to make, moments to break, years to repair,”

His other hand touches my right wrist, the tenderness something out of the past, when our hands had fewer calluses, fewer scars.