Red Rising (Red Rising Saga, #1)

by Pierce Brown

You killed Priam, Sevro. That’s why they won’t let you be Primus. Am I on target?” “You’re on target. I killed him like I’d kill a pretty dog. Quick. Easy.” He spits the bone onto the ground. “And you killed Julian. Am I on target?” We never speak of the Passage again.

Man cannot be freed by the same injustice that enslaved it.

Do you know my father?” “I don’t care about your father.” “My father,” she persists, “is Gauis au Trachus, Justiciar of the southern Martian hemisphere.” “I still don’t care.” “And his father was—” “I don’t care.”

“Like our little war all over again, except you’re not running around howling at people like a moontouched wolf.” Mustang sighs and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Ah, the good old days.”

“The measure of a man is what he does when he has power.” She laughs. “You mock him for Cicero and then spit out Plato.” “Plato is older. He trumps Cicero. Ow!”

“They took Mustang,” I tell my pack. They look on silently. The Jackal no longer matters. “So now we take Olympus.” The smiles they give one another are as chilling as the snow.