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“It’s a cruel world we live in, and each of us tries to survive in the way we know how. A way that seems right to us.”
It was the stillness before battle, when earth and trees and sky held their breath. It was the pause before fate pulled and power shifted, when present became past, and future stretched into the present. It was when the gods set destinies in motion.
“If you had killed someone I loved,” she continued, “would it change anything? Would you tell me you were sorry? Would you mean it? Because if you’re going to question your actions on one life, you’d better question your actions on every single one of them.”
He’d acted under his sense of right, his sense of justice, according to his people and his gods. And he had been… well, not kind, exactly, but he’d eventually treated her with respect.
"eventually" ooh what a joke
Hope’s greatest power was replenishing the strength that despair had stolen.
She stopped, uncertain of what to say. Of what she felt. None of it was right. None of it was enough, and all of it was complicated.
The Maker’s chosen…?
I just need it documented that we are 93% into this book and only now is sable thinking about being the chosen one! Master of avoiding thw signs
“I will never forgive myself for how I’ve treated you. For bringing you here. For leaving you alone with him.” She didn’t say it was all right; it wasn’t. But then, he wasn’t asking her to.
She laughed, then leaned forward and kissed his cheek. He stilled at her lips; his breath hitched. She lingered there, her lips against his skin, breathing in the scent of his musk and the forest, and then, reluctantly, she pulled away.
Oh pls fuck off
He brought her hand to his lips, eyes never leaving hers as he kissed the backs of her fingertips. She felt his kiss all the way to her toes. He brushed his thumb across her knuckles once, strumming every string inside of her.
Screams internally
