The Curse of Broken Shadows (Smoke and Shadow, #1)

by Laura Winter

Most days, Brela woke up and chose violence. Today was proving to be no exception.

And the only way she’d part with something so sacred would be with her death, so she did the dumbest thing she’d ever done in her life. Brela growled back.

Instead, she did the second dumbest thing she’d ever done in her life. She stepped forward and bared her teeth, snapping each word. “It. Belongs. To. Me.”

“A smile would lessen their hesitations. When you glare like you’re going to burn down their forest, they’re going to think you want to burn down their forest.”

“I’ll try to control my blood splatter the next time I fight a shadow wolf.”

“Don’t tell me you couldn’t form words. You basically shouted ‘bad dog’ to a shadow wolf.”

“We all died the minute Anfroy attacked Valisea,” Brela whispered. Her fingers traced over the Veil shard in her chest. “Death is just still catching up to some of us.”

“The Night Terror is a legend to some women here because of the evils she’s eliminated. We’ll never see the face behind the name, so can’t we for one moment believe that there’s a woman out there looking out for us when all the men in our lives have let us down?”

“Only protecting the pure shadow-kind, not even the men and women who honor her? Your god is a bitch,” Elias grumbled. Brela raised her drink to that. “If I ever meet her, I plan to say that to her face.”

Brela cursed her traitorous eyes that had first scanned his visible, very well-defined muscles, then cursed her lungs for releasing an uncharacteristic sigh when she realized he wasn’t hurt. She bit her tongue before it betrayed her too.

Isn’t there enough hate and fear in this world that we don’t need to create more of it?”

But that glint in her eye. She knew people watched her, and she didn’t care. She met their stares, held them with a flash of glare that could rival Cason’s fire, and then she moved on without another thought. Like she owned the room and knew exactly what she was doing.

The belly of the beast was exactly as she imagined it would be—bright, cheerful, and utterly repulsive.

“Knowledge is a more powerful weapon than any of those swords.”

“You two are going to set the forest on fire if you aren’t careful.” The woman held her chin up higher, a glint of mischief in those pale blue eyes. “Then let it burn.”

“While you count, I imagine a fortress. I picture their words and glares as claws, trying to scratch through my walls to release the anger or shame. They want me to feel and act like the chained creature I am, but they only win if I break.”

If you want a death done right, apparently you have to do it yourself.”

“I meant what I said earlier; magic isn’t good or bad. I’m not afraid of your fire, nor am I afraid of any magic. I’m afraid of the people who wield it with closed minds.

The prince only chuckled. “I’m not sure he’s willing to part with it. I think he’s grown quite fond of…” He looked Brela up and down for a breath before emphasizing, “the knife.”

Serill grinned at their gaping mouths. “Not just a pretty face.

“The throwing knife, too.” When it wasn’t in her hand after a single breath, she fixed her pale blue eyes on him with a glare. “I’m well aware you’ve grown attached to my blade, but unless you plan to use it, magic-wielder, I am still severely disadvantaged.”

Brela was the Night Terror, and she was fierce and terrifying and more beautiful than anyone he had ever met.

“I want it to be a fair fight when I kick your ass for what you did to Brela. But she doesn’t want you dead, so until she gives that order, you’re going to remain not dead.”

“I can’t figure out if I should be terrified that you own so many weapons or relieved that it means you know how to use them.”

“What else was I supposed to do while I waited for you to finish? Bleed out sober?”

family is forged, not by blood, but by love.”

“He’s wondering if Brela’s signing is any indication that she’s good at—” “Please don’t finish that sentence,” Valkip mumbled,

“Empress of Chaos, Nightmares, and Death was a bit of a mouthful.”

Brela spun around the table toward the king’s captain and purred. “Close that mouth of yours, Boelyn, otherwise people might think you’re impressed with a Veil Worshipper.”

“Hold on. You have an insane amount of fire magic coursing through you and your first thought was to throw a book at me?”

“Would you like me to kill him for you?” Her lips twitched into a vicious smile as her tongue traced her flashing teeth. “Or hold him down while you do it?” Now that was an idea…

“Why can’t you trust me?” Brela whispered, then quickly added, “Don’t answer that.”

“Hope keeps us kicking. Keeps our hearts pumping and our eyes on a better future.”

I like my guts where they are, thank you very much.”

Farrah unsheathed one of her daggers and offered it to him. “I was going to ask if you wanted more weapons.”