Rule of Wolves (King of Scars, #2)

by Leigh Bardugo

Tell me it’s more than war and worry that makes you speak those words. Tell me what they would mean if you weren’t a king and I weren’t a soldier. But she didn’t want to hear any of that, not really. Sweet words and grand declarations were for other people, other lives. She brushed the hair back from his face, placed a kiss on his forehead. “I would stay forever if I could,” she whispered. He wouldn’t remember anyway.

“We could play cards,” suggested Nikolai. “I’ve been working on a new poem—” “Or we could shoot ourselves out of a cannon.” Tolya’s glower was ferocious. “A bit of culture wouldn’t hurt you.”

Because I am greedy for the sight of you. Because the prospect of facing this war, this loss, without you fills me with fear. Because I find I don’t want to fight for a future if I can’t find a way to make a future with you.

Nikolai struggled not to break out in song.

“The Suli never forget their own, General Nazyalensky. Just like crows.”

“I would make you my queen because I want you. I want you all the time.”

This was a feeling he had been happy to forget, the knowledge that death walked with you, breathing down your neck, guiding your hand but ready to turn the blade on you in the space of a moment.