An Ember in the Ashes (An Ember in the Ashes, #1)

by Sabaa Tahir

Something strikes me about the room. It reminds me of another I’ve seen, but I can’t place

Foreshadowing??

All the beauty of the stars means nothing when life here on earth is so ugly.

The high-necked dress she’s wearing clings to her body in ways I find painfully unfair.

I want to touch that hair, smell it, run my hands through it, wrap it around my wrist and—damn it, Veturius, get a hold of yourself. Stop staring.

are two kinds of guilt, girl: the kind that drowns you until you’re useless, and the kind that fires your soul to purpose.

Life is hard enough without having to avoid entire rooms in my own head. I imagine the fall of her hair and the glow of her skin.

wrap her silk-smooth hair around my hand. Her breath catches, and she melts into me, her body suddenly, intoxicatingly pliant. And then, as I pull her face toward me, as our eyes are closing, we hear the scream.

You gotta be kidding me

“Loving you is the worst thing that has ever happened to me—worse than the Commandant’s whippings, worse than the Trials. It’s torture, Elias.” She digs a shaking hand into her hair. “You don’t know what it’s like. You have no idea what I’ve given up for you, the deal I made—” “What do you mean?” I say. “What deal? With who? For what?”

UGHHHH

Death supplants everything. Friendship, love, loyalty. The good memories I have of these men—of helpless laughter, of bets won and pranks hatched—they are stolen away. All I can remember are the worst things, the darkest things.

I think this is one of thr most heartbreaking battle scenes ive ever read

And then I bring the blade down.

Wtf

But then his hand is on my chin, tipping my face up. His clean scent washes over me.

Screamingg

lift myself up on my toes, and his face comes down at the same time. His lips are soft, softer than I could have imagined, but there is a hard desperation behind them, a need. The kiss speaks. It begs. Let me forget, forget, forget. His cloak falls away from me, and my body is against his. He pulls me to his chest, his hands running down my back, clasping my thigh, drawing me closer, closer.

ABOUT TIME

“There are two kinds of guilt,” I say softly. “The kind that’s a burden and the kind that gives you purpose. Let your guilt be your fuel. Let it remind you of who you want to be. Draw a line in your mind. Never cross it again. You have a soul. It’s damaged, but it’s there. Don’t let them take it from you, Elias.”

And that kiss. Burning skies, the feel of her, how she’d arched into me, wanted me. A

This boy is a YEARNER

ALWAYS VICTO I raise an eyebrow—I wouldn’t expect Keris Veturia to wear her house’s motto so proudly, especially considering her history with Grandfather. Some of the letters are newer than others. The first A is faded, as if it was inked years ago. The T, meanwhile, looks just days old. “Run out of ink?” I ask her. “Something like that.”

Mark my words- she adds a letter everytime something happens; there is more to this tattoo

“Fear can be good, Laia. It can keep you alive. But don’t let it control you. Don’t let it sow doubts within you. When the fear takes over, use the only thing more powerful, more indestructible, to fight it: your spirit. Your heart.”

The old woman considers for a moment. “I can get what we need from the school’s armory. It’s well stocked.” She stands up, and when Izzi and I stare at her, she lifts her eyebrows. “Well, don’t just sit there like lumps on a log.” She gives me a kick, and I yelp. “Move.”