Carve the Mark (Carve the Mark, #1)

by Veronica Roth

Every planet in the galaxy had three oracles: one rising; one sitting, like their mother; and one falling.

Everyone had a future, but not everyone had a fate—at least, that was what their mom liked to say.

“So you’ve seen their fates. The fates of the Noaveks.” She nodded. “Just the son and the daughter. Ryzek and Cyra. He’s older; she’s your age.”

But Akos wasn’t “nice”; that was just what people said about quiet people.

yellow jealousy flowers, white purities, green harva vines, brown sendes leaves, and last, protected by a cage of wire with current running through it, red hushflower.

“Find another reason to go on,” I said. “It doesn’t have to be a good one, or a noble one. It just has to be a reason.”

“Carve the mark,” I said, my throat tight.

I am a Shotet. I am sharp as broken glass, and just as fragile. I tell lies better than I tell truths. I see all of the galaxy and never catch a glimpse of it.

because there was his Cyra, jagged as a serrated blade, strong as Deadened ice.