Shield of Sparrows (Shield of Sparrows, #1)

by Devney Perry

The Guardian. A man rumored to be more vicious and deadly than any creature crafted by the gods.

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.

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.”

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.

“Not all monsters are born from the gods, my queen. Some of us were made.”

“Thanks,” I deadpanned. “And I was certain I wouldn’t earn any compliments today.” “Praise is for the bedroom, Cross. Not the training ring.”

He used my first name so rarely, whenever he did, I paid attention. “You asked for my name,” he said. “You told me I had to earn it.” He nodded. “Ransom. My name is Ransom.”

“When I am nothing but dust and ash, Turah will endure. I do not need a crown. And I have made peace with my destiny. But before I step into my grave, my choice is you.”