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Kindle Notes & Highlights
For those who read Anathema, you will notice a few things plucked from that story—a lot of the magic and world-building, the fates, the non-humans, even some of the names. The first scene has some literal copy-and-paste sections. I wanted to take concepts that I loved from that world and see where I could go with them. That is where the similarities end, though.
Shes so real for telling the truth. Yes girl
And yet Sofie had decided he was the one to beseech. Elijah was furious when she first revealed that she had bound herself in servitude to him. It could never be undone. “But I am a chosen one. Malachi’s flame runs through my veins.”
2020
281 years later
But in the end, I’m still a thief, one who feels more indebted to Korsakov now than I did three years ago. Short of disappearing into the night and spending the next however many years watching over my shoulder, I don’t have options. I’m stuck with him until he’s six feet under or he no longer sees value in me—which could mean I’m six feet under.
“So? Things are okay? No aches or lumps or anything that you should get checked out by a doctor?” He’s a forty-nine-year-old man who could easily pass for seventy, the decade of living on the street aging him far beyond his years. “Watch out for the demons. Especially the ones with the twisty horns. They’re here, walking among us, wearing our skin.”
My dad slipped through every last one until he landed on the street where he’s been ever since.
My father’s hand shoots out, grasping my calf with surprising strength. “Beware of the demon with the flaming hair. She hunts for you,” he hisses, bits of bun and meat spraying from his mouth.
The last thing I hear before he slams the door shut is my father’s garbled cry: “Find the gilded doe!”
For a woman who insists on not lying to me, Sofie is the master of avoiding the truth.
daylight offers me a glimpse of his face that the moonlight did not, one that reveals a perfect balance between the hard edges and symmetrical, softer features—a square jaw that surrounds full lips, sharp cheekbones that frame large, deep-set eyes, a long, slender-tipped nose that meets a shapely brow. Though I know it’s probably not wise, that it could be seen as a challenge, I hold his steady, dissecting gaze. His eyes are a light hazel. They would be pretty if they weren’t so full of hate.
My contentment with simply being alive has faded over the past three weeks. These walls may be adorned in pretty paper and molding, but it doesn’t mask the truth of what they are—my prison.
“How old am I?” “Just a baby.” He pauses, as if deciding how much more to reveal. “You just passed your twenty-fifth year.” Princess Romeria was twenty-five. Is twenty-five?
After a week of watching the daily happenings of the royal garden from my balcony,
4 weeks in prison
My day guard, the foot dragger—a stone-faced man with bland chestnut-brown hair and small, squinty eyes who told me his name was Guard when I attempted conversation—walks behind me and barks orders of “left” and “right” as he escorts me through the castle’s vast halls.
Lol thats as good as horse
“Perhaps Wendeline should take another look.” “I thought her talents would be far better used elsewhere.” “Do you plan on throwing back every word that’s ever escaped my mouth?” “I don’t know. I guess we’ll see what I remember.” “Which is quite a lot, ironically.” He smirks.
I’ve spent five weeks confined and yet I haven’t felt this trapped since the night of the tower.
By the end she’s there for several months
All these Islorian immortals feed off humans. And Ybarisans, apparently, though they can’t feed off me.
The gods of creation, the elements that make up all of nature, that gave life. They’re anatomically similar to humans, except with hooves and horns, and wings in the case of the Fate of Air. Both males are well-endowed. Surely, those two created themselves.
Lol
Malachi allowed Sofie to pull me, a human doppelganger for Princess Romeria, from my world and drop me into her immortal body, which he resurrected and made lethal to a daaknar’s bite. He can’t be doing all this just to free Sofie’s husband for her, especially not when he’s the one holding the man hostage. So what is he after?
The moment the door clicks shut, he spins me around. “Who are you?” he demands.
Lol
She purses her lips. “Does my brother not appeal to you at all?” There’s genuine interest in her tone. He appeals to me more with each encounter I have with him, but I’m not about to admit that to his sister.
Humans are said to be embarrassingly easy to read, so what could he learn in her pulse just now? Nothing of concern, obviously. If there was ill intent or hatred in her, Zander would know.
Clearly that is not always the case considering the poison humans are willingly taking
“What’s your affinity to, Atticus?” I ask. He peers over his shoulder at me. “I don’t have one.” I frown. “But I thought all the nymphaeum-born immortals did. Annika does.” “Yes. She stole mine in the womb,” comes his wry response. Is there bitterness in his tone? I can’t tell.
Yes
Surprise flashes in Zander’s eyes before he smooths it off. “You retain a startling amount of information.” His hand slides over the small of my back. “And that happened outside, in the back alley.” “Not comforting.” “No one in here will touch you.” No one but Zander.
👀👀
I’m unsure who moves first, but our mouths find each other within the inky shield of our cowls. Zander’s lips are supple as they explore, at first with a hint of hesitancy, but then with the eagerness of a long-anticipated kiss, deepening as his torso presses against mine.
Finally
“No, actually. I’ve been left completely unsatisfied,” I counter, and watch my challenge sink in. His jaw tenses as he meets my stare. My stomach flips as he takes several steps toward me. But then he stops. He inhales deeply. “Whatever this is between us, it is not real. It is the result of a summoning, of Aoife’s intervention, and while I was sure that spell was broken after my parents’ murder, that may not be the case.” “That’s what you think this is? A spell?” What if it is? What if the only reason Zander is attracted to me is because Aoife made it that way, in some sort of cruel trick?
...more
“I would like your baker and her two children.”
The first in her collection of strays
“Do you even have any idea what I am or why I’m here?” Her blue eyes search my face. She exhales slowly, as if making a decision. “You are a key caster, and I assume Malachi has sent you here to try to open the nymphaeum door.”
“You’re saying you tested me.” “Yes. After the daaknar attack.” I drop my voice until it’s barely audible even between us. “And you found affinities to all four elements in me.” “Yes. Caster affinities.” “That’s impossible.” “It was shocking,” she agrees. “I also tested Princess Romeria when she first arrived here, to see how powerful she was. Covertly, of course. I can confirm she only had an elven affinity to Aoife. And since the fates cannot gift affinities, the only possibility I have come up with is that Malachi somehow bound a key caster to Princess Romeria’s body. But there are none
...more
My blood races as I curl my fingers around the hard length of him, the skin velvety soft against my palm. Whatever else he is with me—angry, resentful, frustrated—he cannot hide his attraction. His head falls back against the tub, a pained look on his face. “I did not think you would do it.” “Did you not want me to?” I slide my hand down as I touch him thoroughly, memorizing the feel and weight of him against my palm. “Should I stop?” His throat bobs with a hard swallow. “What I want right now is for you to climb into this tub.” “With you?” He smirks. “If you dare.”
“All these books, and you guys couldn’t bring me even one when I was locked up and begging?” I offer Elisaf a flat look. “Evil Romeria did not deserve entertainment,” he whispers, humor lacing his voice. “Was there something in particular you are looking for?”
Lol
I gasp at the first swipe of his tongue and fall backward onto the bed, reveling in his skill as he lowers his mouth on me. This isn’t my first time experiencing this, and yet it feels as though it is. My body hums as anticipation builds, my fingers coiled around the soft strands of his hair, my leg hooked around his shoulder and my hips moving against him, striving to get closer.
Zander slides into me with a smooth, skilled thrust, burying himself deep inside, drawing my moan.
Took long enough.
Concern pinches my heart for the man I’ve shared a bed with for the past several nights.
Nights?!? More than once? Rude we only got details of one night
