Heart of Iron (Heart of Iron, #1)

by Ashley Poston

But the way she pressed her forehead against his, and opened her golden-brown eyes, and looked into his as though he was the sun her life orbited around, stopped him from ever saying as much. So he simply stood, his forehead pressed against hers, looking into the face he knew better than his own circuitry—and that he had blueprints for.

“You sound like a symphony of electrical currents,” she explained, and began to hum, as if in tune with it, and grabbed his hand to dance.

If he believed in the Moon Goddess, he’d be praying right now. He’d be praying really, really hard. And he’d be praying something like, Merciful Goddess, if you exist, please hand my ass to me some other day. I don’t want to die. I haven’t kissed Jax yet.

He was gone. Not lost. Not broken. Because he didn’t have a soul. He wasn’t alive. D09 was simply gone. Gone in a breath, in a blink of an eye. Gone. And her heart beat on in a universe without him, a sad and useless organ in her chest.

The eldest Armorov, Rhys, had shown him the spot years ago, although back then it had been used to get away from their tutors.

This is the third book in a row I've read with a character named Rhys or Rhy.

Di looked annoyed. “No, I am here to tour the palace.” “Sarcasm, not the time.” “Sorry, the literary device is still new to me.

He felt the compulsion—but he was not a serial number. He had not been for some time. He was not a unit. He was not a commodity. He was more than the sum of his parts.

Then Di stopped. He reached his hand up as if to grab the ship. Robb felt a shift—brief, like a magnetic pull— And Di snapped his fingers. The chip in his wrist lurched. Robb clutched it with a cry, dropping to his knees. Pain, swirling, throbbing, raced up his swordfighting arm as the chip grew brighter. And brighter. Blazing like the sun through his skin. He screamed. Pain curled up around his shoulder, seized hold of his heart, and squeezed. It squeezed so hard he barely felt it when the chip burned away the nerves in his wrist. When it tore apart the blood vessels in his hand. When it spread like molten lava, up and up and up his arm until the pressure was too much and the light was too bright— The tracking chip burst.

I'm about to cry!

“I can’t lie, you insufferable Ironblood,” he chided. “I’m apologizing because I can’t forgive you right now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to kiss you, ma’alor. And it doesn’t mean I don’t like you. I do. I like you, but do you really want me? Someone who can’t touch other people? That’s my reality. I’ll never kiss you without seeing your fate. I’ll never touch you without seeing how you’ll die. Am I someone you could be happy with?” Robb’s brow furrowed. “Screw fate. I’ll tear down the stars for you.”

OTP

They were the sum of her parts that made her whole. She was Ananke Armorov. She was the heir to the Iron Kingdom. She was a girl born in fire and raised in the stars, and she would burn against the darkness—and drive it away.