Shield of Sparrows (Shield of Sparrows, #1)

by Devney Perry

I wanted to jump. I wanted to dive into that ocean blue. I wanted to be unshackled from everyone’s expectations for just one godsforsaken moment.

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.”

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.

Maybe I didn’t have all the details. But he was my father. My king. In my lifetime, all I’d ever seen him do was what he thought best for his people. And I was still one of his people, no matter how far I sailed away.

I closed my eyes, feeling the salt water spray on my face. I tilted my head to the sky, the warmth of the sun on my cheeks, and I filled my lungs with the wind. My adventure. Was I happy with this situation? No. But if nothing else, maybe I could find joy in this journey.

I sagged against the railing, my entire body flaming with embarrassment. Maybe I should throw myself overboard to cool off. That, or take lessons from my husband. And keep my damn mouth shut.

“If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to hide, you hide. If I tell you to hop on one foot and pat your hair, then you. Fucking. Hop. Do we have an understanding?” “No.”

“Thank you for saving my life.” Someday, if I had the chance, I’d repay that favor by taking his.

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

He dragged his gaze down my tunic to where one of my hands still palmed my ass. “Sore, my queen? We’ll have to add riding to your training regimen. That, or being ridden. I’ll have a word with Zavier.”

I hated fake. I hated lies. So I’d stopped making “friends.”

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

So I dwelled. On. Everything. My own mind had become my worst enemy.

He would not adore me, worship me. I’d traded a loveless engagement for a loveless marriage. I’d never had a man look at me that way. And I never would. Why was this just occurring to me now? Why hadn’t it bothered me before? Maybe because I hadn’t taken the time to dwell. The time to mourn the loss of a romance. Of passion. Of love.

He’d left that scent in my treehouse last night. I wasn’t letting myself think about how it had mingled so perfectly with the perfumes of my bathwater.

The journey was terrifying and thrilling. It was a dive off a cliff. A leap of faith. This was freedom. And I was addicted.

Did you ever stop to think that maybe the door to your cage has always been unlocked, Sparrow? And all you had to do was push it open?

“Odessa, wait.” It wasn’t his order that made me stop. It was my name. I was always Cross or Sparrow or my queen. But rarely Odessa. I’d never loved my name more. “Thank you. For saving those children.” He put both hands over his heart and bowed. Then he slipped into his treehouse, closing the door. And my rope ladder? It stayed attached. All night long.

It wasn’t the first time I’d been overlooked. It wouldn’t be the last. So when would it stop hurting? When would I stop expecting anything different?

Love had its way of building us up. And bringing us down.

I wanted a thousand nights to sleep with the beat of his heart in my ear.