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

by Carissa Broadbent

“And who the hell are we,” he finally said, voice low and thick, “to carry something so precious?”

Because it’s too much. Because my fury petrifies me. Because the last time I got angry, I felt a man’s life wither in my hands.

“Because if I allow myself to be angry, I will never stop.”

“Good.”

As we started towards those foreboding gold-and-silver doors, I adjusted the white lily that I had tucked into my hair. It was a last-minute addition that I stole from the garden as I left. I figured that Max wouldn’t mind, and besides, it all felt incomplete without it. How poetic, after all: to wear Esmaris’s sigil as I exposed every terrible thing that he did to me. As if I were carrying him with me, hissing into his ear: Look. Look at everything you failed to destroy. Look at what your cruelty created.

have twenty-seven scars on my back from the night I tried to buy my freedom and Esmaris rewarded me by trying to beat me to death. I was beaten, I was raped, I was almost killed. It is written into my body and soul, just as your guilt in it is written into yours, whether you want to see it or not. But you cannot ignore it. Neither can I. And neither can they, because I will not allow them to.”

“It’s easy to die for someone,” I said, “but it is so much more valuable to live. I do not give you permission to fail if I fail. Do you understand me?” When he didn’t answer, I pressed, “Do you understand?”