Rule of Wolves (King of Scars, #2)

by Leigh Bardugo

“Men who see too much have a way of losing their eyes.” “And queens who trust too little have a way of losing their thrones.”

She had learned the practice of deception from Kaz Brekker himself, and there was no greater teacher.

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.

Grief and love were one and the same. Grief was the shadow love left when it was gone.

How? How do you survive a world that keeps taking? There was no answer from the dragon, only the crackle of flames and the cold silence of the stars, lovely, bright, and uncaring.

You can choose faith or you can choose fear. But only one will bring you what you long for.

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.

“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 is what love does. In the stories, love healed your wounds, fixed what was broken, allowed you to go on. But love wasn’t a spell, some kind of benediction to be whispered, a balm or a cure-all. It was a single, fragile thread, which grew stronger through connection, through shared hardship and honored trust.

“Get a message to the Crow Club,” she said. “Tell Kaz Brekker the queen of Ravka has a job for him.”