More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
For every girl who can love a villain, so long as he’s handsome, hung, and good at groveling.
“If a wife cannot speak ill of her husband, then what joys are there left for her in marriage?”
“Though, the way you got rid of the silk looks rather inviting. Molted your pretty feathers right down to the cotton, huh? Who are you?”
“Oh, I have no intentions of taking you to Malyr, and Lorn doesn’t fucking command me,” Sebian scoffed. “My job was to track you down, capture you, and bring you before the fate. Alive and unharmed were his words, which is the only thing left standing between me and a warm meal. If I take Brisden’s daughter to Malyr… well, sweetheart, we might find ourselves struggling with the unharmed part.”
Everyone I’d once vowed to protect was rotting away in graves—if they had graves at all. That was how well I’d done it.
“If you believe death is the worst I can give you, then clearly, you haven’t experienced much of life.”
There is no cut, no bruise, no broken bone, no humiliation your father spared me.” He sneered, letting my pulse thud loudly in my ears. “Because of your father, I am a million shattered pieces, put back together all wrong. Now get that damn knife away from me before you accidentally hurt yourself. Only I get to hurt you.”
“Life marks us all in one way or another.” Sebian dunked the cloth into the water. “The only scars truly ugly are usually the ones on the inside, anyway.”
“Ravens have fated mates, chosen for us by our goddess herself to bond with for eternity.”
“The raven that carries our gift is called anoa.”
“It is said that, at our birth, our anoa flies down from the moon carrying our gift. A heavy burden for a raven, so it can take many years until we receive it… unless it’s the gift of void.”
“You have no kingdom, no crown. If you call this farce a court, then I can only assume that you’re its fool.”
“Mmm, as much as I hate to confess it, black shadowcloth suits you.” Malyr’s rasping purr vibrated against my temple as those wicked offshoots gathered at my sex with mind-numbing pressure. “And how nicely you are displaying my mark tonight, showing everyone just whom you belong to. Mine to hurt. Mine to torment.”
“Should I tell him how wet you are for this, sweetheart? How needy your little cunt is for his shadows?”
“Do you like this, little dove?” Malyr asked. “Does Brisden’s whore daughter enjoy how my shadows are playing with her tight, pink cunt?”
What would it feel like to be loved with such intensity? Such unequivocal fortitude that not even death could impose conditions? I wanted to experience such a love so badly…
