Crier's War (Crier's War, #1)

by Nina Varela

She’d come so far. She was not going to throw it all away for some doomed dream of revolution.

Justice was a god, and Ayla didn’t believe in such childish things. She believed in blood.

Ayla’s face was fascinating. Crier had seen her barely twice and she already knew this like she knew the constellations.

“I know you’re looking at me,” Crier said, and Ayla looked away so quickly that she nearly knocked her head against the carriage window. “I can tell. I can always tell.”

“So why? Why would you risk that?” Again, surprise. “Because I knew it was the only way he would let you stay. With me.” Ayla flopped back against the velvet seat of the carriage, furious all over again. “You shouldn’t have,” she hissed. “It was reckless, it was dangerous, it was—” “Worth it,” said Crier. Her eyes, out of the direct sunlight and both that deep, human brown, were fixed on Ayla’s face. She looked calm everywhere except her hands, which were clenched tight in her lap.

Crier moved at the exact same time, hands flying up to frame Ayla’s face, and they were kissing.

“If a spider weaves her web to catch flies and catches a butterfly instead, what does the spider do?” Benjy stayed silent. “She eats the butterfly,” said Ayla.

That she was capable of the most human feeling of all. That she loved Ayla.

Crier had been Designed. Crier was Made. But in the moment Ayla first touched her, Crier had learned what it felt like to be born.

“Humanity is how you act, my lady,” said Jezen. “Not how you were Made.”