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Kindle Notes & Highlights
(1) Bend the rules—but don’t break them. (2) Stick to the truth. (3) Avoid notice. (4) Listen to your instincts. (5) Be brave.
A monster of a man sits on his blood-red steed, a massive sword strapped to his back. There are gold rings in his dark hair and kohl thickly lines his eyes. His cheekbones are high and the scowl he wears makes him look absolutely petrifying.
this isn’t actually going to be a fight. This is a lion swatting a mouse aside.
My hand twitches with the need to touch my throat and feel the grisly scar that decorates it.
“Netet wā neterwej.” You are the one He sent me.
“Netet tayj ḥemet.” You are my wife.
“Neṯet ṯar,” he says. You are safe.
You will be safe here until I get back. All you must do is swear fealty with the others. Then we will speak again, wife.
don’t think I’m supposed to understand him.
I won’t become the very thing I fought against today.
The sound of it is like a lover’s breath against my skin. It’s sinister, deep—so very, very deep—and the weight of it seems to echo across the clearing.
To fight, to fuck, to kill.
There’s water and fire and … and … and God the pain—the pain, the pain, the pain. The sharp bite of it nearly steals my breath.
“I wouldn’t be a proper husband if I couldn’t make my wife comfortable.”
“The conqueror was vanquished,”
The horseman knows exactly how to bait me. I don’t want to be with him, but now I’ve remembered just what it’s like to be with someone. To have open, unvarnished conversations. My throat works. “They must.”
“Stay with me, Miriam.” His hand flexes against my side. “Sleep in my tent. Make your weapons. Argue with me.”
Inside it is a picture of my mother, my father, my sister, and
When he sees me, the horseman’s eyes come alive. My heart stutters a little at the sight.
the horseman looks thunderstruck from it. Thunderstruck and hungry.
Who would’ve known some cajoling and an itsy bitsy kiss could change all that carefully calculated consideration?
The horseman smiles against my mouth, more than aware of his effect on me.
His body feels like sin, but he tastes like heaven.
One day my vagina might stage a coup and overpower my brain—but
“Because tomorrow
you’re still going to ride out with your army, and it’s going to break my heart.”
Also, you managed to shoot War, and I’m a little jealous of you for it.”
“So you have some sway over him,”
“Because his god told him to, or some bullshit like that.”
“Holy crap!” I shield my eyes. At least, I shield them a little—I mean, be brave is my mantra …
I am perversely intrigued massively uncomfortable.
War is a man of his word. He does indeed give me back my tent later that very day … he just happens to move it right next to his own.
revenge and justice are one and the same.
In life you were dishonorable, and so your deaths too will be dishonorable.
I bet you wanted my sword shoved inside you just as much as Miriam wanted yours shoved in her.”
Perhaps this is the very reason the world is burning. After all, if this is War being just, then his God’s justice makes sense too.
Somehow we’re all supposed to redeem ourselves. I’m just not sure we’re all willing to.
“Mine by violence. Mine by might. Mine by divine proclamation.”
“I don’t want to be awake when you’re asleep. Talking with you reminds me of how lonely it is to exist.”
“It’s the power of love that I find beautiful.”
Beneath my touch, the horseman’s skin pebbles.
War’s arm tightens on me, and he wakes with a slow, devil-may-care grin.
irises. I can even see that right now, his eyes have been stripped of violence. What’s left in them is pure desire.
“Wife, I have not been living until this moment. You must make that sound again.”
And now his horse just cock-blocked the shit out of this situation.
Deimos wasn’t cock-blocking us after all. He was sounding the alarm.
A cringe-y, half-baked plan, but a plan nonetheless.
Be brave. Be brave. Be brave.
I open my mouth— Bail.
Anxiety and trepidation and perverse excitement all churn in my stomach as I take those halting steps back to him.
