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My gray rooms. Mae’s suite was pale blue, for the virginal bride who would soon be married to a prince. Who would fulfill her role in accord with the Calandra trade treaty that kept the five kingdoms at peace. She was the Sparrow.
My gray rooms. Mae’s suite was pale blue, for the virginal bride who would soon be married to a prince. Who would fulfill her role in accord with the Calandra trade treaty that kept the five kingdoms at peace. She was the Sparrow.
Around and around and around it spun until the priest had shaped the water into a crown that loomed over my head.
Around and around and around it spun until the priest had shaped the water into a crown that loomed over my head.
She shook the powder into my roots until my natural color was muted. Until the orange and red and copper and caramel strands were gone.
She shook the powder into my roots until my natural color was muted. Until the orange and red and copper and caramel strands were gone.
Before my mother’s death, Margot had been her lady’s maid, and since I had Mother’s hair, Margot was well practiced at taming the curls.
Before my mother’s death, Margot had been her lady’s maid, and since I had Mother’s hair, Margot was well practiced at taming the curls.
The man who entered next didn’t look like a god incarnate. He didn’t appear to be a ghost. He was tall and broad, like the other Turans. Muscled to the point of distraction. His chocolate-brown hair tickled the tops of his shoulders, and his chiseled jaw was covered in a short beard of the same shade. At first glance, he was just a man. Striking. Intimidating. But still, just a man. Yet his irises did not have the typical Turan green starburst. They were solid, molten silver. Liquid metal. Colorless, like my dress. The Guardian.
“Not her.” Margot blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Her.” The Guardian’s eyes flicked in my direction, and the whole room followed his gaze. To me. “Prince Zavier will marry her,” he declared. “Tonight. As the bride prize for killing your marroweels.”
Jackass. Margot gasped. Father’s jaw clenched. Damn. I guess I’d said that out loud. Well, he was a jackass for laughing.
“Seven lives in a chain.” Father’s emissary spoke gently, like he was pulling a punch. “Long ago, before the five kingdoms, the lands and seas were overrun by monsters. To regain control, the ruling lords made a decree. Any warrior who risked their life against the beasts would be granted a prize of their choosing if they returned with the heads of seven slain females from the species. As with all treaties, the Chain of Sevens was sealed with our magic.”
The magic rooted deep in Calandra’s land tinged our irises at birth with those starbursts, linking us forever to a place. No matter where we lived, where we moved, that one color was unchanging. Every Quentin had an amber starburst. Every Quentin except me. My eyes were solid gold. Not a starburst in sight.
A King cannot kill his Sparrow, and a Sparrow cannot kill her King, either directly or indirectly, without death befalling them both.
Tanis Oak Sparrow Wolfe The first king. The first Sparrow.
What if I pushed him overboard while we were at sea? Let the ocean do the killing for me. I almost liked the idea of watching that son of a bitch drown.
I might be the woman wearing the crown, but Jocelyn was the one with the riches, wasn’t she?
But damn it. I liked these pants.
He might be a jackass, but at least he was handsome. There were worse things to behold at the end of a life than a nice face.
“Not all monsters are born from the gods, my queen. Some of us were made.”
“Your former fiancé must not have a big sword.” The Guardian’s eyes flashed emerald green, the innuendo dripping from his tone.
The gleam in his eyes made my stomach knot. Shit. I was in so much trouble.
He carried that danger in his body, like a permanent cloak of malice and rage.
“Praise is for the bedroom, Cross. Not the training ring.”
This man made me jittery.
He’s a monster. He’s a monster, he’s a monster, he’s a monster. A beautiful monster but a monster all the same.
Damn my heart. It skipped. Heartburn. It had to be heartburn. The cooks had added peppers to the eggs this morning. They’d been spicy, and now I had heartburn.
I’m tired of being shoved to the wayside. I’m tired of being dismissed. I’d like to prove to them, to myself, that I am more than a token to be traded.”
“Sometimes being strong and brave means staying behind and out of the fight.”
“Hold tight, little star.”
