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Vonkovyan law dictated that unmarried women were not permitted to own property.
It was sickening that it took a suitor to spare my reputation, my future.
How tragic that a woman’s worth equated to the depth of a man’s pockets.
he passed his young sister playing with her dolls, he paused to kiss the top of her head and kept on.
“Perhaps you’ve forgotten the three men who tried to violate you. I’m the fucking empath who killed those men. For you.”
“I find it interesting that any time a girl is unusual, or dare I say, unique, she’s deemed evil, or cursed.”
“Don’t you feel just a small bit of guilt locking me in?” “No.” The obnoxious turn of the key emphasized his point. “Your heart must be the smallest organ you possess.” “And your mouth must be the largest.”
“Goodnight.” “Goodnight, Lunamiszka.” “Do I still annoy you?” she asked. “Endlessly.”
Zevander’s gaze fell on me, and he flicked his fingers, calling me toward him. “Do you know how the scorpion chooses his mate?” Rykaia whispered in my ear. “Promenade à deux. By asking her to dance.”
Mates were for those who believed in fate, who gazed at the stars with a longing to capture them. He’d lived too long with the practicality of knowing the stars were too far out of reach, and yet, in his arms lay the brightest of them all.
What a cruel destiny she’d been given, though. And, to some extent, him, as well. Having a mortal for a mate would mean suffering the agony of watching her die too soon.
“If preventing this plague means sacrificing your life, then I’ve no interest in saving everyone else. The whole world could perish of disease and famine, for all I care.”
