A distant, crooked tower, silhouetted against the white, collapsed. Souls scattered like frantic ants. A second tower started to fall, painfully slowly.
“You are too intelligent for us to be having this conversation right now. You know what my priority is. You know it because you just used it against me.”
“Don’t say stupid things.” I jerked my chin to the ladder against the bookshelf. “Hold on to the bars. They will keep your hands where they need to be.”
Are they pacifists, I wonder, unwilling to answer Nyaxia’s call? Or did she not call upon them at all?” “And yet she called upon the Bloodborn?” I asked. “After two thousand years of hating you?”
“We haven’t heard from you for nearly a year, Mish. A fucking year. We knew you had been captured by the Shadowborn. Did you really think that we wouldn’t come for you?”
Raihn’s eyes went blank. He fell under the spell immediately. He was a Nightborn king—he knew how to steel his mind against Shadowborn intrusion. But not with me. He never saw it coming.
Mische this is actually breaking my heart!!! Don't do this
“For whatever of your mistakes, Mische Iliae,” he said, quietly, firmly, “for whatever of your faults, for whatever unintended pains you may bring this world, I will love you anyway.”
For fuck’s sake, say something, Mische, I told myself in a burst of frustration. I blurted out, “I didn’t write to you because I died.” Raihn stopped mid-step.