Healer to the Ash King (Dark Rulers, #5)

by Rebecca F. Kenney

“Look for the smoke, mo stoirín. It will guide you to the truth that lies buried under the mountain.” I half-smile, half-wince at the platitude, a familiar one in this land of sleeping volcanoes. “There will be no mountains in the Capital, Ceannaire.” “Ah, mo stoirín.” She smiles back, the wrinkles deepening at the corners of her eyes. “Everyone is a mountain.”

"Everyone is a mountain"

If people are mountains, this man is a volcano. Lucky for me, I’m used to living near one.

My mother always tells me that one mark of a good man is taking responsibility for his body’s reactions, and not placing that blame on a woman’s choice of clothing.

Absolutely correct

“I’m not seducing you,” I gasp. “I’m yelling at you.” “By all means, continue. It’s working for me.”

👀

kitten.”

I love it. Next question.