The Ippos King (Wraith Kings, #3)

by Grace Draven

“I’m not sure I’d know what to do with a hair ribbon,” Anhuset finally said, addressing the stars above them.” “Probably strangle someone with it.” She choked on the wine she’d just sipped, and Serovek thumped her on the back until she quieted. Then she laughed, and he was lost.

“I don't know how you weak humans ever got this far.” “We're cunning, feral, and afraid of dying.” Anhuset arched an eyebrow. “If that was praise toward your kind, it's the worst I've ever heard.”

Besides, it isn't a weakness to feel sadness. Whoever boasts they haven't been touched by sorrow or tragedy is lying. We grieve because we still remember what it is to feel.” And why she did her best not to feel too much.

He resisted the temptation to close his eyes when she laid her hand gently against his cheek. “If the gods abandon us, I will be proud to die fighting at the side of Serovek Pangion, Margrave of High Salure and battle mate to Brishen Khaskem.”

“We live for those we love,” she told him in bast-Kai. “We die for those we love. This is a privilege, Serovek, not a sacrifice.”

“You will always be home, no matter the ground I stand on,” she said.