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“How go the preparations for the wedding?” “Very well. How goes the world domination?” “It has its moments.”
Don’t explode. Nothing good ever came from exploding.
“I’ll be there to tell you ‘no,’” he said. “My family history isn’t exactly inspiring. I may kill you one day, Barabas.” “I’ll take that chance. I believe in you, Kate.”
🥺
To the left of me Derek howled nonstop, Ascanio’s eerie laughter a bloodcurdling drumbeat to the wolf song.
When a strange voice talks to you in the black woods, only idiots answer. I was that idiot.
That’s the trouble with ancient gods. No sense of humor.
He shrugged. “It’s not that I’m that evil, really. I’m just beloved by evil things.”
In the post-Shift world, where you were from mattered because the myths and legends of your homeland followed you.
I finally realized why she disturbed me so much. She was what Voron had wanted me to be. A killer without any remorse, without any doubt or questions. Point and watch the blood spray.
So far I had the god of evil and the god of terror on my side. My good-guy image was taking a serious beating. Maybe I should recruit some unicorns or kittens with rainbow powers to even us out.
Just another night in Atlanta. Sitting on my porch between a Greek god who was really a human and an angel of death who was having an existential crisis.
For months Barabas took care of Christopher. Now Christopher guarded Barabas.
Stooooop. 🥺
Jim’s face was flat. His eyes told me that he hadn’t come because he wanted to patch things up with me. He’d come because his back was against the wall. Our friendship was truly over.
Oof. 😔
Jim was an excellent Beast Lord: smart, efficient, and painfully fair. He would be admired and respected, but he would never be loved the way Curran was. Curran had wanted to be loved, needed it because he’d come to the Pack as an orphaned kid. Jim didn’t want to be loved by anyone except Dali. He didn’t need friends. He didn’t want anything else. Only Dali.
Curran smiled. It was a bright, infectious smile, the kind that could change the mood of an entire hall of shapeshifters. I had seen it in action before. It signaled that all was forgiven. The tension in Jim’s body eased. But I knew Curran better than Jim did. Curran would never forget this.
Very curious to see how this plays out in the next book...
“Is your father riding a gold chariot?” Ghastek asked. “He’s a product of his times. It’s what he grew up with.” “There is nothing wrong with a gold chariot,” Erra said. “It’s meant to be symbolic.”
We landed in an empty chariot. My father had vanished.
This was so anti-climactic. I was even expecting something like it but it was so sudden. 😦
