Vow of the Shadow King (Bride of the Shadow King, #2)

by Sylvia Mercedes

Gods above, who knew I possessed such wellsprings of defiance? I’ve always been the demure, shrinking, people-pleasing, disappointing princess. Perhaps this is what multiple near-death experiences in quick succession will bring out in a person.

“And I would not have believed it possible for you to deceive me as you have done. Perhaps it’s time we both readjusted our expectations of one another.”

Good relationship advice, I think.

I clutch my crystal pendant so hard it digs into my flesh.

There is entirely too much crystal clutching for my sensibilities. Anytime something critical happens the scene is not complete unless Faraine mauls that poor little crystal. I do like the mystery of how she came by it and wonder how that will be resolved, however.

Funny though . . . I’d never stopped to wonder how I came by this stone.

Really? Inconceivable!

malodorous monarch.

I am sucker for alliteration, admittedly.

I’ll make her pay for what she did to me. I’ll make her beg forgiveness. I’ll make her beg for mercy. I’ll make her beg for more.

I found this statement very powerful and a little (?) scary. So out of character of Vor, but it was said in a state of drug-induced madness.

Each crash and roll tries to wrench me back into that eternal sea of torment. I cannot fight, cannot hide. I can do only what I have always done: endure.

I think this says a lot about inner strength. It can be there but not visible.

I rise, brace my feet, and turn toward the hanging city. There’s something out there, something . . . I can’t quite describe it. Like a pulse. Deep down in my gut. A vibration, low, guttural. As though the city itself utters an agonized moan.

I am a sucker for writing such as this

I press my palms into the flat surface. The vibrations flow through me. A song, an anthem. A hymn of life and death and all the complexities in between, dancing through my veins, through my soul. I close my eyes, feel how it ripples out from me, out across the garden, across the city, across the whole of this vast cavern. The resonance connects each and every living creature, every stone, every gem. On and on, the heartbeat of song, reverberating from one being to the next, forever.

I should never have let myself come to this. I should never have allowed my heart to open itself up to this terrible vulnerability. If I’d been wise, I would have sent her home with Lady Lyria.

Now, she tucks her head under my chin and simply holds onto me. Like she trusts me. Like I can help her, comfort her. It’s the most beautiful sensation I’ve ever experienced.

Since that moment no woman has compared to her in my mind. If I force myself, I can objectively see and list her flaws. Her mouth is too wide, her jaw too square, her nose too prominent. And of course, those bi-colored eyes of hers are undeniably unsettling. Yet how can these features be anything less than perfect? Every small detail is a vital part of the whole that is her. That is Faraine.

He wants me—and not just in the hot, fiery way a man wants a woman. He wants more than that. He longs for a companion he can trust, for someone on whom he can depend through all the tumultuous storms of this life.

It doesn’t matter because you are going. Sooner, not later.” “But not now.” I take another step closer. “This is our time. This is our moment. If we don’t take it, it may never come again.”

“What about later? You will feel I have used you. Taken from you that which was not mine.” “No.” The word whispers from my trembling lips. “I will know only that I gave what I wished to give, and in that knowledge, I will be glad. Glad that for once I had a choice. And I made it.

My blood turns to liquid lava, pulsing hot through every limb.

This moment is not about my needs. Not now. Maybe not ever. I don’t know how much time we have left together. What I do know is that I want whatever time we have to belong to her.

This was no dance of instinct and pain, but one of tenderness. A dance of passion, awakening my body and my soul to possibilities I’d never dreamed. Possibilities that could only be made reality in a space of absolute trust.

Who knew surrender could be so exquisite?