War (The Four Horsemen, #2)

by Laura Thalassa

“The conqueror was vanquished,” War says.

“Stay with me, Miriam.” His hand flexes against my side. “Sleep in my tent. Make your weapons. Argue with me.”

He’s overlooking the fact that there’s worth in life itself.

“I spared you that day in Jerusalem because you were mine. And I intend to keep it that way, no matter the cost.”

“I don’t want to be awake when you’re asleep. Talking with you reminds me of how lonely it is to exist.”

I know War is asking me about myself, but this is who I am—a lonely girl carrying around the ghosts of her family.

Loss is a wound that never heals. Never never never. It scabs over, and for a time you can almost forget it’s there, but then something—a smell, a sound, a memory—will split that wound right open, and you’ll be reminded again that you’re not whole. That you’ll never fully be whole again.

War thinks humans are the scourge of the earth, but is there anything so powerful as the way we love?

“My wife, you are everything I never knew I wanted,”

“Somewhere along the way, my reasons for giving into these human emotions changed. I no longer pursued you because I was supposed to. I craved your company, your smiles, your fierce anger and clever tongue because it brought me the same joy battle did. And the world bloomed into color. For the first time, I began to truly feel this body and every emotion within it.”