Song of Sorrows and Fate (The Broken Kingdoms, #9)

by L.J. Andrews

When I looked back at my Whisper, heat from my blood pooled in my belly, dripping even lower until I clenched my thighs tightly. Gods, no. Absolutely, unequivocally, no. What had I told my Raven Queen? The bleeding instant one of those lust-crazed royals leapt into bed, damn wars began.

I would rather go the rest of my life without risking the necks of everyone I loved simply because my masked phantom all at once looked like a morsel, one I wanted to taste over every surface of my tongue.

“To lose you now would be worse than any battle. I’m afraid you’ll need to be satisfied with your grand champion being utterly inexperienced on the battlefield.” He grinned, and I thought it might be the loveliest of things. “I have a champion?” “Obviously. You use your tongue rather magnanimously, and I would like to keep it from now into the eternities.”

“Little Rose,” I said, voice low, grip tight on the hilt of my blade. I kept my focus ahead. I watched as sea fae tumbled off the sides of their ships and spilled into the water, fierce on the attack. “I need to tell you, whatever happens here—I have loved you all my life.” “Gods, I hate that. I mean, I love it, but I hate that you’re saying it because you think we’re going to meet the Otherworld.”

The sea fae roared his pain and spat at her face, stumbling away. “You keep your bitches here? Weak.” “Well, this bitch just stabbed you,” she said, giving him a cruel wink.

Eryka gently took Gunnar’s hand. “They’d like time alone.” Tova rolled her cat eyes. “All gods, not like that. He’s injured.” “But his tongue and fingers are not,” said Eryka. “Those are some of my favorites.” Tova’s eyes widened. “Bleeding hells, how do you handle her mouth?” “Masterfully.” Gunnar wrapped an arm around Eryka’s shoulders and kissed her head.