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

by Carissa Broadbent

I don’t know why I believe you, he had said. But I knew. He believed me because he wanted to believe me — wanted to believe in the possibility of something better, however unlikely it was. And that? That was something that sank into my soul like water after miles and miles of parched, desperate desert.

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.

At once, I understood. This was not about the necklace, beautiful and finely crafted as it was. He wasn’t giving me another pretty trinket. No, Max — Max, the man who had taken such great care to carve out his own solitary corner of the world — was giving me what I’d never had. The real gift was not the necklace. The gift was a home to come back to.

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