A Heart of Blood and Ashes (A Gathering of Dragons, #1)

by Milla Vane

“There are enemies, and there are monsters. Always slay the monsters first, because enemies may one day become allies—but monsters never will.” As the Gogean soldier

But if civilization meant cowering behind walls, if it meant wrapping every bare stretch of skin in linens, then Maddek preferred to be a barbarian.

Perhaps that was what civilization meant—in the southern realms, their kings and queens were chosen for them. Individual voices mattered little. But if civilization demanded silence, Maddek would never see the same happen to Parsathe.

“You are much more handsome when you scowl.” He laughed again. “Am I?” “You are,” she said primly. “You should refrain from smiling, especially after we are married.” “That will be no hardship. After we marry, I’ll have little reason to smile.” “I will make sure of it. It is so much more pleasant to look upon your face when you are unhappy, I shall endeavor to make your life a misery.” She eyed the grin that broadened in response to that. “Already you deliberately displease me.” Looking to Kelir, who was shaking with mirth upon his horse, she said, “Remember this moment if ever anyone speaks of how bitterly contentious our marriage is. I only have one small request of my would-be husband—that he does not smile—and immediately he denies me.” “I will remember it, my lady,” the warrior choked out. “As I will,” Maddek said dryly.

Queen Vyssen had told her that love was not something to avoid. For when love was given freely or genuinely returned, everyone it touched was strengthened by it. Yet love could also blind, just as anger and hatred and fear did. It could be wielded as a weapon. It could hurt, when it was rejected or betrayed or lost. It could be confused with lust, or with pleasure, or with gratitude—for it often entwined with other emotions and was not so easily separated from them.

She had promised to make his life a misery. He still believed she would. But in that moment, he’d realized his life would also be a greater misery if Yvenne wasn’t in it.

She believed that was when you truly learned someone’s character—after they’d been broken. When they lost someone they’d loved, and everything they’d known was destroyed. When they’d been brought so low, they might never rise again. And when they do rise, then whatever reason they find to keep going, to claw their way up, to crawl to their feet—she believed that reason would reveal who they truly were. She said that she didn’t know who you truly were.”

“Though I must pose no real threat, for you do not shield your heart against me.” What use would such armor serve? Already she had reached in and taken hold of it.

It was his bride who would be the legend, Maddek thought. In the ages to come, he would rate but a mere mention in the songs they sang of his warrior-queen.

“Do you not know I would tear my heart from my chest before I would ever harm you?” Her moonstone eyes squeezed shut. A short, sobbing breath ripped from her. In devastation, Maddek sank to his knees. “What have I done, never saying this to you?” he said hoarsely. “Never telling you these words that I should have said over and over again. What have I done, that you do not know how I would ride across the world just to lay my gaze upon your face? That I would crawl there on the mere hope of knowing your touch again? What have I done, that as I kneel here, you still do not know that with my full heart, I love you?”

You are my heart, Yvenne, and my strength—and certainly my brains.”

“I will still make your life a misery,” she said between kisses. The sweetest misery it would be. Cradling