The Fallen and the Kiss of Dusk (Crowns of Nyaxia #4)

by Carissa Broadbent

Mische Iliae would be remembered by the bones of time itself, and I knew it because I would write her story there with my blood if I had to.

As if the gods had seen some beauty in mortality but failed to realize that the imperfection of it was what made it remarkable.

But I’d know her anywhere. I’d memorized her soul. I’d pressed her final moments into my heart like preserved rose petals.

“What do most people need to hear?” For some reason, I had to speak past a lump in my throat. “They need to hear, ‘Even if it is your fault, I will love you anyway.’ ”

“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you, Asar Voldari, Warden of Morthryn, king of the underworld, heir of Alarus. I love you, and in this life or the next, worlds mortal or divine, I will never let you go.”

“You have resurrected me, Dawndrinker.”

And here, in this twin soul, in this love we built together, I finally found it: Home.