Shield of Sparrows (Shield of Sparrows, #1)

by Devney Perry

I raced for the cliff. My drab, gray dress streamed behind me as I ran, faster and faster, arms pumping, legs pushing. I didn’t think. I didn’t falter. One moment, my feet were tethered to the earth. The next, I was flying.

An unspoken conversation passed between them. Was that one of the Guardian’s powers? Could he read minds? Well, if he could read mine… Go away. Please and thank you.

Queen. That was laughable. I hated wearing shoes and dresses and being trapped indoors. I loathed the monotony of lessons and lectures. I wasn’t meant to rule or lead. Politics were boring and regal parties overrated. I was not a queen.

“The prince will have who he desires.” It was as if the Guardian were inside Zavier’s mind, speaking the words the prince could not. “And he desires her.”

“Isn’t it a bit late to start preparing me to rule a foreign kingdom?” “Odessa.” Father shook my shoulders again. “You must find the way into Allesaria before summer’s end. Then send word of how

“Brielle and Jocelyn?” “Allesaria is your priority. Understand? It’s crucial to my plans. We cannot delay. But you must also learn everything you can about the Guardian and his powers. Find a way to kill him.” My jaw dropped. “You want me to kill the Guardian?”

“Yes,” Father said. “You must try. At the very least, find out what he is capable of. No matter how many spies I’ve sent to Turah, none have been able to learn the extent of his powers or their source.” “Powers? He looks…normal.” Well, mostly normal.

A King cannot kill his Sparrow, and a Sparrow cannot kill her King, either directly or indirectly, without death befalling them both.

“Eager to chase Zavier to his room, my queen?”

Poison was too good for the Guardian. Too easy. I was going to kill that man with my own two hands. Maybe a knife sliced across his throat while he was sleeping. Or an arrow shot straight through his heart while he was enjoying his midday meal.

The Guardian’s gaze dragged over my face, lingering so long I fought the urge to squirm. “You look tired. Long night? I hope you weren’t up late saying farewell to your fiancé.” “Also none of your business.” “Isn’t it? You’re married to the heir to the Turan throne. Your children will be of his line. I’d say that I have every right to be concerned with the seed you allow between your legs.” My face flamed, my jaw dropping as I stepped away like I’d been struck. “You did not say that to me.” He lifted a shoulder. This. Asshole. “Who do you think you are?”

“Then I guess I’m trapped between two monsters.” “You have no idea how accurate that statement is,”

Absolutely not. “You can speak.” “Just because I don’t talk doesn’t mean I can’t.” He grinned. It was less of a smirk than that of the Guardian’s, but it was just as arrogant and infuriating. “Welcome aboard the Cutter, Odessa Wolfe.”

“You’re not a Turan.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, but my husband is. He sent these to me, which you very well know, so I’ll wear them at his behest.” “The dutiful wife, aren’t you, Sparrow? At least in title.”

But I wasn’t going to blindly agree. I’d spent twenty-three years taking orders from men who thought they could dictate my every move. And I was done.

I wouldn’t—couldn’t—cower for this man. I refused to give him that control.

“I will listen when it’s a matter of safety for myself. For other people. I will do my best to ‘stay the fuck out of the way.’ But I will not bend to your every whim. I will not humiliate myself because you deem me insignificant. If you wanted me to stay quiet, then you should have let that marroweel kill me. I am not one of your warriors to lead. I am not your wife to command. So no, we do not have an understanding.”

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

“Don’t worry, my queen. We’ll keep you safe,” the Guardian said. “Especially if you stay. On. The. Fucking. Ship.”

So what was so wrong with me that no one trusted me? Or was it really a lack of trust? Maybe the heart of the issue was faith. No one believed in me. No one had trust that I was capable.

“Sore, my queen? We’ll have to add riding to your training regimen. That, or being ridden. I’ll have a word with Zavier.”

“Fine. Would you please tell Zavier I’d like to speak to him later? In private?” The Guardian’s eyes narrowed. “Why?” “Because I’d like to speak to my husband in private. What we discuss is none of your concern.” “The crown prince is always my concern.” “If you’re not going to send him here, I guess I’ll have to find his tent myself.” “Feel free to wander into mine, Princess.” He leaned in closer. “Zavier likes to share.”

“If you’re not going to send him here, I guess I’ll have to find his tent myself.”

“Feel free to wander into mine, Princess.” He leaned in closer. “Za...

Then the Guardian stalked through the flames, covered in dark blood. It dripped from the ends of his hair and his chin. It trickled down his arms, down the length of his gleaming silver sword. His eyes were the same color, swirling metal. And locked on me. The air rushed from my lungs. He hadn’t abandoned us after all.

Maybe those rumors about the Guardian were true. Maybe he was the God of Death.

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Take a breather, Cross. You’re sloppy and slow.” “Aw, thanks.” I feigned a smile.

I hated him. The end.

I’d always been on my own. The only person I could count on to take my side, to see me, was me.

“I said that I want you to start running.” “Running.” Eww. “Why?” “Your stamina is shit.”

I pressed a hand to my heart, rubbing at the ache for a girl who’d lost her companion only to find another. Her soulmate.

“Where did you go?” I asked as he stood in front of me, arms loose at his sides. “Worried about me, my queen?” I rolled my eyes. “Only that you’d die and I wouldn’t get to spit on your grave.”

“Fear not. I’m still very much alive and back to be your keeper.”

A shudder ran through my body, and I forced my eyes to the dirt. 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. He’d killed Banner’s brother. He was a murderer. And I was married.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re useless or a failure,” Brielle said. “And I trust you.” That was sweet. “Thank you. I trust you, too.”

“This was a horrible idea.” “Agreed.” “Ah!” I yelped as I spun around. The Guardian stood in the center of my room, his legs planted wide, arms crossed over his chest. A breeze drifted in from the open window. And he was livid. “Hello, my queen.” Well, fuck.

“You’re sorry?” He took a step backward, like he didn’t trust himself to get too close. “Damn it, Cross. This is not Quentis. People die in Turah every day. Every. Fucking. Day. People who’ve spent their entire lives in this kingdom. People who are better equipped to deal with its dangers than a spoiled godsdamn princess.”

“I leave you for four days, and you can’t stay put. You are, without a doubt, the biggest pain in my ass I’ve ever met.”

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?

“You can either have the bed without the pillow. Or the floor with it. Your choice, Cross.” I huffed. “You are not staying in my room. Get your own.” He smirked. “And leave my queen unguarded? Never.”

“Unless, of course, you want me to sleep with you.”

The mental image that filled my mind was so vivid it was like an imprint. His weight, pinning me to the mattress. His skin hot against mine. His voice in my ear, his fingers threaded into my hair.

“I hate you,” I seethed. “Yes, you do. Don’t forget.”

I should move. Sit straight. Get off this horse and put some distance between us. But the truth I was terrified to admit, even to myself, was that I didn’t want to move.

He searched my eyes the way I searched his. For answers. Salvation. Mercy. There was a tether between us. Gods save us when it snapped. Why couldn’t I feel this way for the man who’d claimed me?

“You didn’t hurt me.” Yes, it was tender today. My entire body was sore. But there were no marks. No bruises from his grip. “Maybe not.” The sadness in his green eyes cracked my heart. “But I could have.”

“You don’t have to hide who you are, Cross. Not here.” Not in Turah. Not with him.

“We kill the monsters. We kill them all. Every last one.” Him. He meant to kill the monsters. Then himself.

He smirked, his arrogant mask falling into place. “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.”

I’m not a warrior. I’m not a scholar or healer or even a decent princess. But I’m capable. I taught myself how to whistle. How to shoot a crossbow with marginal accuracy. I haven’t cut myself with my own knife or sword. I can help. I want to help. Please?”