Curse of Shadows and Thorns (The Broken Kingdoms, #1)

by L.J. Andrews

“A good heart,” her soft voice flowed from behind the veil. I was certain now, she was young. “Interesting.” “Excuse me?” I’d heard rumors of Zyben’s interest in seers and witches. Not exactly Night Folk, but if books were to be believed, more than fae carried fury in their blood. “Your heart does not live here,” she whispered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “There isn’t much time.” A desperate plea was buried underneath the soft hum of her voice. Pulse racing, palms sweaty, I bent closer. “Don’t fear the past, trust those undeserving of it⁠—”

A gasp escaped my throat when the masked girl gripped my wrist. A hum of warmth bled from her fingers. “When you see the beast within, let him in to let him go.”

“The only hands I consider capable are my own.” Legion lifted one brow, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Ah, but you have never experienced what mine can do.”

“This is my refuge. Books are my windows to another world, another life.

Bleeding hells, does the man roll in the innards and blood at his fishery? Does he not wash? I didn’t understand how a human could be so unaware of their odor.

“A troubled heart,” she said. The room went silent. The girl stepped closer. “Release the past and trust those undeserving of it.”

“What your heart desires, there your fate lies.” She lowered her voice to a rough whisper. “When you see the beast within, let him in to let him go. Only then will he bring the change you seek.”

“Everything,” I admitted. “Tomorrow traitors to my king will die, and I cry for them. I’m the weakest kind of Timoran. I hate that I feel this torment inside, how I love my people and hate them all at once. How I love Ettans but stand above them. How I’m fascinated by fae but fear them. The weight of it is crushing, and tomorrow I will be expected to sneer, to shout, to hate.

“I was told once, each decision we wrestle in our minds, each consequence we weigh, is how we gain faith in our final choices. We take time to decide who we are and when we choose, as you said, we stand by those choices fiercely.”

“I ask how I am to give you to some fool because I do not know how. How am I to accomplish anything I set out to do here when my heart burns to have you for myself?”

“Open these thighs, Kvinna. Let me at least taste you.”

“Change takes time,” Legion said against my ear. “It takes time, but if you desire it, you can make it happen.

“Dead.” One word had power. One word had the strength to break me.

I’d seen the bloodlust in the Wraith’s eyes. Red, glowing, inhuman. This look was different. Black, simmering rage. The look of a mortal man defending what was his with his life.

“Tell him,” I started, “if you see him when this is over, tell him I wanted it to be different. I wanted to bring the change at his side.”

“You trusted me, cared for me. You set me free, and I will forever be in your debt.” “But you do not care enough to stay.” “Quite the opposite. I care for you, want you, more than I care to breathe. But this will end in your blood. And I will not do that. Not to you.”

My smile widened. They would be the way back to him. I knew it like I knew to breathe. Fate led me here, and in all her games and tricks, she would lead me back to the Night Prince, to a new rising Etta.