A Reaper at the Gates (An Ember in the Ashes, #3)

by Sabaa Tahir

“You smell . . . not unpleasant,” I say stiffly. “I was simply noticing.” “Of course, Shrike.” His mouth quirks a little. Is that a bleeding smile?

Love. I sigh. Love is joy coupled with misery, elation bound to despair. It is a fire that beckons me gently and then burns when I get too close. I hate love. I yearn for it. And it drives me mad.

A long pause, then a chuckle, low and husky. It makes me feel . . . strange. Like he’s about to tell me a secret. Like I would lean in closer to hear it. “Not one like you, Blood Shrike.”

And I would be blind not to see what he feels for me. I am woven into his consciousness the way Elias used to be woven into mine. Harper is always aware of where I am, of whether I am all right.

Soon, I forget the fighting. I forget the face of the girl I loved. I think only of the task ahead. All is as it must be.

And despite the fact that I know the Empire’s evils firsthand, my eyes grow hot. I will never understand the savagery of war, even when it is my foes being destroyed.

Curse this world for what it does to the mothers, for what it does to the daughters. Curse it for making us strong through loss and pain, our hearts torn from our chests again and again. Curse it for forcing us to endure.

But do not despair. We are, all of us, just visitors in each other’s lives. You will forget my visit soon enough.”