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

by Olivia Wildenstein

“My love cannot be bought, Antoni. It must be won.” “And how does one go about winning your love, Fallon?”

“Free the five iron crows, and you will be queen.”

“I am saying Luce will, one day soon, belong to you, Fallon Báeinach.”

“That was three years ago . . . Surely I don’t plague all your nights.” “You don’t plague them; you enchant them.”

“I should ask you for pointers, since I’ve yet to snag a man’s heart with my kisses.” “Perhaps because you kiss them below the belt, and hearts are higher up.”

I’m a person not a thing, Nonna. I cannot be wielded against my will.” She sets my hands back on the table and leans back in her chair. “Then make sure your will isn’t governed by your heart.” “What’s wrong with my heart?” “It beats for the wrong man.”

If you don’t untuck your fucking shirt, I’ll inflict bodily harm on every Selvatin who leers at you. Is that truly what you want?

That I’ve spilled blood? Yes. But how much? As little as possible; as much as necessary.

“I slept with you because I was crazy about you, Dante, not because you were my ticket onto the royal isle.” It strikes me that I’ve used the past tense. Did it strike him?

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

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.

“I’m done here.” I refuse to fall back. “You and I are done, Lorcan Reebyaw.” The gold ringing his pupils seems to churn. “You and I are just beginning, Fallon Báeinach.”