Daughter of No Worlds (The War of Lost Hearts, #1)

by Carissa Broadbent

I didn’t make it this far just to flicker out in the night like a stifled candle. I’d haunt him.

Deserve. I hated that word.

I had twenty-seven fresh scars that would never let me forget what I was capable of surviving — and I would, I would survive.

“Is it amazing?” I murmured, the words slipping from my lips without my permission. “Oh, no. It’s horrible,” Max replied. “You’ll love it.”

I was too young to know the truth then. That victory meant another’s defeat, and sometimes our own defeat. That winning meant sacrifices, and sometimes ones that even our own people were not willing to make. That in war, someone always paid.

It was amazing, the mental somersaults minds and hearts could do to justify their actions in the name of love.

“you didn’t forget what you were. I think you remembered. And I hope no one ever again has the fucking audacity to tell you otherwise.”

“Men want power because it makes them feel good. Women want power because it lets us do things.

“It’s easy to die for someone,” I said, “but it is so much more valuable to live.

I stood with her, only her, until the end of our stories. But I refused to allow hers to be a retelling of mine. She deserved better than a lifetime of bloodstained hands and a tale with a bitter ending crafted from Reshaye’s terrible acts. She deserved epics.