Shield of Sparrows (Shield of Sparrows, #1)

by Devney Perry

I wasn’t sure if I’d ever seen him actually happy, but green was the color of his gaze when he wasn’t pissed off.

What if Allesaria didn’t exist? That thought had crossed my mind more than once. I’d dismissed it initially, certain that no kingdom could pull off the ruse of a fake city.

“Please don’t leave me in the dark. I have been pushed to the side, dismissed, and overlooked my entire life.”

“And people? What happens to people if they’re bitten?” I asked the question but realized as the words tumbled off my tongue that I already had the answer. The Guardian. There was a vulnerability in his green eyes when he looked at me again. “You have Lyssa,” I whispered.

“Just think of how happy your father will be when I’m dead. You can even tell him you killed me, just like he asked. My queen the assassin.”

Had Lyssa ripped away that connection, forging something new? “It heightens natural abilities,”

“Yes. Not long after I was bitten, I got a fever. I was delirious for a week. When it finally broke, everything was normal. The rest came on over the course of a few months. A cut that should have taken days to heal was gone in hours. I could see clearer. Hear better. I had always been good in a fight. I had always been fast.

“Every king in Calandra knows of Lyssa. They have simply decided it is Turah’s problem to solve.”

He took my face in his hands, dropping his forehead to mine. His thumb traced my cheek, and tingles exploded on my skin. “You’re okay.”

But what if the High Priest was wrong? What if Lyssa wasn’t some sort of mutation or disease? What if they’d been the cause? The Voster’s eyes were the same dark-green shade as blood from the infected monsters. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Odessa, wait.” It wasn’t his order that made me stop. It was my name. I was always Cross or Sparrow or my queen.

Except he wouldn’t hurt me. Without a shadow of a doubt, I knew the Guardian wouldn’t hurt me. Yes, he’d tease and scold and ridicule me until I wanted to strangle him to death. But he wouldn’t hurt me.

The truth was, I couldn’t trust him. I couldn’t trust Zavier. Hell, maybe I couldn’t trust my father, either. The only person I could rely on at the moment was myself. There was only one way for me to break free. Knowledge.

“Their blood. It will be green.” Like his. Like the blood I’d seen gushing from his wounds in Ashmore. The blood I’d assumed belonged to the bariwolves.

“You asked for my name,” he said. “You told me I had to earn it.” He nodded. “Ransom. My name is Ransom.”

“What if there’s a cure?” “There isn’t. I’ll be out of your pretty hair before you know it.” I couldn’t fathom the idea of Turah without the Guardian. I’d been in this kingdom for nearly two months, and somehow, he’d become the center of this new life.

He gave me the freedom to be myself. To stop hiding.

“Forgive me. I’m new to your kingdom. The king’s militia?” “Yes, Highness. King Ramsey is recruiting for his militia. There hasn’t been one in an age. I think it’s in preparation for the migration.” “Ah. What exactly is suspicious about that?” The smith shrugged. “Not sure. They haven’t made the paper yet.”

“I didn’t ask your name.” “Samuel Hay.” My mouth fell open. “Samuel Hay? As in the author of A Year in Quentis?”

I’ve heard visiting with families, not a single soldier who’s gone to join this militia has written home. They enlist and all but disappear.

“I actually wondered that myself. But there is a woman in Ravalli who has been there. According to her, the road is treacherous. It is guarded by a stone wall, and the only way to be granted entrance through the gates is by blood oath.”

“Maps are forbidden. If you’re found with one, it is punishable by death.” “Death? Over a map?” Well, fuck.

“Such pretty hair. It’s no wonder you caught my son’s eye, Princess.”

Ransom wasn’t a murderer. I’d only ever seen him raise his weapons to monsters. To defend his people.

“What happened with his brother?” I asked. “I killed him.” That, I already knew. “Why?” “Because he was the man who took those girls in Westor.”

Strange that this was the moment I saw my husband’s bare chest for the first time. We’d been married for nearly two months. And now I knew the reason he didn’t visit my bed.

He’d been in Jocelyn’s instead.

It wasn’t that he’d chosen Jocelyn. It was that he hadn’t chosen me. Why was I never the first choice? Why was I always the consolation prize? With Father. With Margot. With my tutors. And now with Zavier.

I didn’t want Zavier to want me. And if he’d found a connection with someone else, that meant I could stop feeling guilty. I could stop loathing myself for falling for Ransom.

“I have to let go.” “Of what?” “You,” I whispered. “You are not mine to keep.” He breathed, shifting so close his chest brushed against my back. “What if I was yours?” “How? I signed my name in blood, remember?”

And as you hurried into the castle, dripping wet, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Then you were there, in the throne room, your hair dyed again. And I saw in you what I see in myself.”

“Don’t tell me something that will make me hate you.” “You already hate me, remember?”

The Guardian, Ransom, had volunteered to speak for his prince.

He splayed my fingers, spreading my hand wide. Then he held out his own to show a cut healed long ago. All that remained was a faint white line. Twin scars.

“You are the crown prince. It was all a ruse.”

“You have always been my queen.” My queen. How many times had he called me that? How many times had he referred to me as the Sparrow? Countless.

“I am not long for this realm, Odessa. And when I’m gone, you will be free. Your tie to me will be broken. Your life can be of your choosing.”

“No. And it’s unlikely that I will. It’s forbidden for people to include it on any maps. And Zavier has no intention of taking me there. Certainly not before the migration.” I swallowed hard. “You must tell my father that I’ve failed. The Turans suspect he’s trying to find their city. And the last person they’ll ever trust with that information is me. Please tell him I’m sorry.”

I was always going to fail him. But this failure was my choice.

Vander. He was even more beautiful in the daylight than he’d been outside Jocelyn’s room. His black hair was done in intricate braids, similar to Halston’s. He dipped his chin as I passed. “Princess.”

What the fuck is yours, Guardian?” “Ransom.” He leaned left, then right as I came at him again, avoiding each of my swipes. “Zavier Ransom Wolfe.

“How long has Zavier been pretending to be you?” “Eleven years.”

“Every prince and princess of Turah has a double until they come of age. A hundred years ago, the king’s son was murdered when he was fifteen. Since then, it’s become practice within the royal family. It is an honor to be chosen to represent a royal. Zavier has been with me since I was thirteen. He is my cousin.”

“It was mine. Your father plans to invade Turah. He’s desperate to find Allesaria. And I was always going to have to satisfy the Shield of Sparrows with a union to his daughter. We’ve known for years that he’s been training your sister as a spy. She’s almost as good with throwing knives as Banner.

“You’re not weak,” Ransom said. “I knew that the moment you jumped off that cliff.”

“You are not a pawn, Odessa. Not to me. You are the Sparrow. You are my wife. You are the future queen of Turah.”

“You are mine, Odessa.”

“Why me?” “I told you. You are mine.”

“I’m sorry, my queen.” “We shouldn’t have to fight this hard, Ransom,”

hundred butterflies took flight in my belly, lifting me off my toes, reaching for him as he crushed his mouth to mine.