A Clash of Three Courts (An Heir Comes to Rise, #4)

by C.C. Peñaranda

“I want…” Her breathing was labored, fighting head against heart. “Say it.” “You.”

“This dress looked beautiful on you,” he said in a deep, gravelly tone. Her sharp breath was swallowed by the tear of fabric when Nik effortlessly helped her out from the front instead. “Remind me I owe you a new one.”

Tilting her chin high, the Queen of Fenstead left to dine with the wolf.

Never had anyone acknowledged that her strength lay in her composure and calculation.

Don’t ask questions—they arouse suspicion. Make statements as if you hold the answers already.”

Because as your friends…we can’t sit by and watch you make the mistake of a lifetime. And for your kind, that is a long, torturous existence.”

“A mate is a match of the power we have within. It’s not always felt in the heart.”

As humans we may not live long enough to see it, but whatever children we might have deserve a better chance at a life without fear or divide. They deserve to learn there’s strength in the most unlikely of alliances.”

Nik huffed an incredulous laugh. “I hardly think a lady of the court would need forcing into a prospective union with a king.” “I’m sure you don’t need me to call out the complete arrogance and ignorance in that statement.” “Yet you just did.” “What can I say? Without Faythe or Tauria, someone has to keep your ego in check.”

“I’ve often wondered if we’re all born cursed to desire what doesn’t come so easily. To long for what is always just out of reach.”

“When two people find a song that can be sung in ever-changing harmonies…I don’t believe having their attention sway to discover a new one will be of any concern.”

“You will make a gracious queen, Tauria Stagknight. One who will reclaim and restore what was taken.”

“You have never been my ward. Or my subject. Or my princess. You are my equal, Tauria. In every way, you shine brighter than the moon I’ve watched change in the sky since you left, knowing it was the one thing we could look upon all the same. Is that pitiful of me?”

“You are my silent war,” he hushed out as though he knew exactly what she thought. Tauria couldn’t suppress her wince. “You’re the war I’ve fought for over a century. One I can’t ever win.”

You are a need, Tauria. Like air to breathe and a heart to bleed.

I want you to know that I would go to war for you. Because you are Fenstead, but you are also High Farrow. And no matter what you choose, I am yours. Even if you cannot be mine.”

“I hope you’re ready, love,” his voice rumbled under her ear, “to put on the greatest performance of our lives.”

“Don’t be a hero. It’s pathetic.” “Don’t be a prick. It’s old.”

“I am Tauria Stagknight, and I’m afraid I am not enough.”