Fireborne (The Aurelian Cycle, #1)

by Rosaria Munda

And then all those things fade away, and all that is left is a single thought: Like hell am I throwing this match.

“Do you think she finds it strange, being surrounded by people who . . .” Annie finishes his sentence immediately, like she’d been thinking about it, too. “Who tested better than her?” “Or were born into the kind of privilege that made them test better,” I mutter.

You see, Annie, they watch us kneel, they see the back of our heads, and they think we’ve given in. They don’t realize you can think from your knees just as well as from your feet.

“Lee doesn’t belong to me,” I tell Crissa. “And if this is what he wants, he should have it.” I wait until she’s gone before I break down.

Annie’s voice is shaking. “What they got wasn’t justice. It was a massacre.”

These are not my people; I am not one of them. Not anymore. These people understand justice only as revenge. They are undeserving, ignorant, and cruel.

By the end, he is rigidly upright. Others might perceive this as a sign of pride, but I know the truth. It is the posture of someone receiving a beating and determined to get through it on their feet.

We’ve reached the bounds of reason and have come to the threshold of belief. I would not do her the dishonor of imagining that her beliefs have been any less hard-won than mine.

The grieving stormscourge barely resists. It’s as though she no longer has any reason to. Same time tomorrow? I’ll try. Wait for me, Leo.

😭😭😭💔💔💔

And today, the choices that began in childhood made us strong enough to defy two regimes, in the name of revolution.