The Midwinter Mail-Order Bride (The Dead Lands, #1; Mail-Order Brides, #4)

by Kati Wilde

Hanging Geofry’s eviscerated and headless carcass from the fortress wall ought to have reassured them well enough, so that was the first thing Kael had done. Except not a day had passed before a mob had torn what was left of Geofry down, carried the corpse across the bridge to the center of the city, and burned it atop a bonfire. When the pyre finally cooled, they pissed in the ashes. Kael had known they were truly his people then—but he still could not fathom why they had made him their king.

Everything about him was too big, too hard, too volatile—as if a mountain had been chiseled down to its volcanic heart and shaped into a man.

What is magic but an unseen force that works change upon the world? That is what kindness does.

“Kindness, courage, love—they are the most powerful of all magic.”

“Pure magics don’t steal. They create, and add into the world something that wasn’t there before—and the result is not the opposite. Kindness does not beget cruelty. Instead it begets hope and comfort.”

“Do you give a gift expecting one in return? Or do you give it for the happiness it gives?” “What if it doesn’t make him happy? What if it means nothing at all?” “Then hope he knows kindness, too,” the old woman said, her voice warm with sympathy. “Love gives the most. But it also takes the most.”

Bemused, Anja asked, “My throne?” “Anywhere you sit will be your throne.” He swept up his bloodied sword and the wet tunic, began cleaning his blade. “I pray my cock will be your favorite.”