Shield of Sparrows (Shield of Sparrows, #1)

by Devney Perry

A theory in which he believed monsters were drawn to me. A theory I’d been dwelling on myself. Monsters with or without Lyssa. Monsters who’d slaughtered those people in Ashmore. The people in Ellder. That boy, Witt, who’d clung to his mother’s lifeless body.

“Nothing is wrong with you, Odessa. Nothing. Understood?”

“I should leave.” “No.” “Rans—” “No.” He didn’t shout or scream, but there was an undercurrent of rage in that word, of finality. His eyes shifted to silver for only a blink before they settled again on green. I was not leaving Turah. I was not leaving him.

“It’s not your choice, Odessa.” “My choice?” My jaw dropped, my anger igniting in a snap. “You stole most of my choices the day you set foot in my father’s throne room, husband. But we’re talking about putting innocent people at risk. Whether you like it or not, this is my choice.” “I’m trying to keep you safe.” “While giving me my freedom, right? Isn’t that what you told me? You were setting me free? This”—I waved a hand between us—“this doesn’t feel like freedom. This feels like being locked away where I’ll suffocate.”

I’m not trying to trap you here, Odessa. But I need you to live. I won’t…” He dragged a hand over his face. “I have never been more scared than when I saw you run for that boy.”

“Good. I have no desire to live in Quentis.” “Wh-what?” I leaned away. “You are mine.” His hands dove into my hair, fingers threading through my curls. “Even if we are kingdoms apart, you are mine. But I’d rather not be a kingdom apart.”

“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.”

My choice is you. I was his choice. Above all else.

He’d lied to me, and it hurt. He’d tricked me, and it hurt. He’d embarrassed me, and it hurt. But as we stared at each other, as the space between us crackled, all that hurt faded away.

Ransom was mine. Every flaw. Every perfection. “This is my choice.” I slid my palm into his. Scar to scar.

“You. You are my choice.” A growl tore from his throat before he crushed his mouth against mine.

“What have you done to me?” I leaned in, smiling against his mouth. “Stop asking questions, Ransom, and kiss your wife.” “Yes, my queen.” He grinned, then sealed his mouth over mine.

his eyes a color I’d never seen before. A color without a name. They encompassed every shade of green from emerald to jade.

our bodies moving like old lovers. Like a husband who had loved his wife for an eternity.

It was real. And we’d never be the same again.

I was his. Not bound together by blood or vows or the treaties of men and magic. Bound by this night.

He was more stunning than any sunrise.

“Thought you might have had second thoughts.” “No.” I reached for his cheek. Relief washed over his expression as he kissed me again, then plopped into the chair beside mine.

“He’s a good man. It did not sit well with him to lie to you for so long. But you should know, it wasn’t done to hurt you.”

If we could find a cure, then this charade would end. Ransom could assume his role as prince. How was I supposed to pretend to be Zavier’s wife? How was I supposed to look at Ransom in public but not touch? Everything hinged on a cure. Then there’d be no more hiding. No more pretending. No more talk of his death. I refused to lose him to Lyssa.

Allesaria. Ozarth. Laine. Cave ginger. Alligasks. Korakin. Fenek. Magic.

heart break. Lyssa was born from two beings. A bariwolf. A one-eyed monster. And Ransom. “That bariwolf was never the beginning.” His voice cracked. “It was me. I started Lyssa.”

I’d seen so many versions of Ransom since we met. The warrior. The prince. The lover. But this version? He was lost. Unrecognizable. I hated the ruin on his face. The pain he couldn’t hide.