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I’m surprised when my language implant does not translate her lilting words. My city hosts markets that draw business from many star systems, so I keep my implant updated with all the known languages. She’s from somewhere very far away.
He’s ruthless but kind. He’s a seven-foot-tall, chiseled warrior who can hold me captive with one hand, but he kneeled to a child’s sword.
The doctor wipes my ear with gauze. When it comes away red, Lothan’s arms tighten around me, pulling me into his chest, and the doctor rolls his eyes. A giggle rises in my chest. Of all the gestures to be universal—the eye-roll.
Great. I can understand him perfectly, and he’s going to guess at my meaning based on caveman hand motions or something. This is like every relationship with a guy I’ve ever had.
Ada from Elsewhere.
I follow her, my nostrils flaring as I catch her scent, the spice that drew me to her even from across the arena. I hope the bath will not wash it away completely. I want a taste.
my day job as a birthday party princess.
“More?” I ask. Our one shared word makes my heart race. I may not survive a whole vocabulary.
Turn down the dial, space slut.
This is it. This is how I’m going to die, my head catching on fire from some mystical spicy alien crown.
when Lothan tugged it through my hair floods my body with heat. I think the comb parted my legs as much as it parted my hair.
Her best fairytale was about our dad. She told us he was a prince from a faraway kingdom who had to leave our family because otherwise he’d be banished by the king. She said it didn’t matter if we didn’t have official recognition; we’d always be royalty, and we should be treated as such, even if it was a secret.
Goosebumps raise instantly, and I feel his touch echo in every cell of my body. How does he make me forget everything with one finger?
Why do assholes always talk in the third person? Normal people just do not do that.
Guess what, there’s no moral order in space. 9-1-1 operators don’t answer your calls. There’s only right and wrong in the moment, no promise of justice later.
All the cruelties, small and otherwise. Even the indifference hurt. What it’s like having all your possessions crammed into a garbage bag before you’re pushed out the door, just because you spoke up or resisted mistreatment.
I should have kept my colors to myself, let her believe we were on some winding journey and not already in the center of the star.
She thinks she can just walk away without disordering the universe.
“Please,” I beg her, though kings do not beg. In this moment, I’m no king. “Lie to me, Alara. Lie to me so I can prove it to you.”
This is not a regular-guy dick. This is a magic sex-god dick.
“If I claim you, I will never let you go. And I cannot bind you to me unless you feel the truth in your heart.”
“As long as I live, I will hate you for this.”
Okay. So. This FMC is… like, think with some logic?? For someone who is refusing to acknowledge the instinctive bond between them, the split second he disagrees because he knows more about the danger ahead, she vows to hate him???
I’d say this is the fourth time I’ve rolled my eyes at her behaviour. Like… she’s being so short sighted.
Lena is my home.
Lena is gonna shove back at her for this - she’s pinning all of her emotions on her little sister, which is so fing selfish
I can’t forget what he said, how he sees me—weak, helpless, emotional. He’s right, of course. I am all those things, especially compared to him. That just makes it hurt more.
I literally hate characters like this.
“He offended me by observing this deficiency even though he’s right - but his honestly means I hate him more.”
If he’s right to say what he said??? She admits this. So maybe grow up and self reflect instead of lashing out???
Lothan drops to his knees and kisses the hem of my sveli. Raising his eyes to meet my gaze, he chokes out, “Forgive me, Alara, but you are the center of mine. Crown or not, queen or not, Irra or Elsewhere, you will always rule me.”
The king wears his crown again, it seems. “I will take you to the Frathiks. And I will defend you with my life, if necessary. Dorel will be unhappy”—his mouth twists with something near amusement at the thought—“and that alone may be worth it.”
I’m… im on the brink of DNFing this book just for this.
She wasn’t RIGHT about wanting to plunge into danger??
WTF?
Dorel exits the ship. Alone. And the bay doors begin to close. They’ve kept her. No. Before I can think, I am running.
Literal idiot.
I’m trapped again.
Bombastic side fucking eye
I’ll never see Lothan’s face again. Funny how, when you think you’ve lost everything, you can still lose more.
Yeeeeah so… I’m officially checked out.
Sorry, but I have to *like* the FMC and this one is pathetic, would be a terrible queen, and honestly?? Dependency on her younger sister might be a trauma response - but that doesn’t excuse being so wishy-washy.
