House of Beating Wings (The Kingdom of Crows, #1)

by Olivia Wildenstein

“Free the five iron crows, and you will be queen.” I freeze. What the what? Iron crows? Queen? Marco’s blasé mien flashes behind my lids, eliciting a shudder. “Not only is the king betrothed—and clearly not to me—but also, I’ve no love for the male.” “I’m aware the Regio male you love is another.”

Although I will never sit on your shoulder, once I’m whole, we can revisit teaching them some manners.

Fallon, play nice. We aren’t quite done. They’re wretched. I know, Behach Éan.

Tell the princeling to fucking concentrate on the road instead of on your body, Fallon.

Lore’s beak doesn’t curve, and yet I can feel his dark smile. That you, Little Bird, belong to the sky. The crow emerges fully from the rocking surf, dark and huge, larger than I’ve ever seen it, a monster of down and iron. And that the sky . . . it belongs to me.