More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Read between
August 13 - August 15, 2023
The king knew, in this moment, that his greatest love would also be his ruination, and that both would come in the unlikely form of a young human woman.
Maybe the king always knew that his greatest love would be his ruination. Maybe he knew it the moment he met her. He’d know it the second time he died, too.
“Knock on that door,” I breathed, “one more fucking time.” My husband smiled at me, lowering his raised fist, which had indeed been ready to knock one more fucking time. “There she is.”
Asteris was both exhausting and exhilarating to use. It felt like the raw power of the stars bursting through my skin, tearing through my body. It tore through Martas’s, too.
The look on Oraya’s face struck me. Satisfaction. Bloodthirsty satisfaction. The first time in weeks I’d seen something that looked like fight in her eyes. Goddess, I could’ve fucking wept for it. There she is, I thought.
Cairis shook his head, a sad smile at his lips. “We were all a little in love with her, right?” Yes, we were all a little in love with Nessanyn. I had been the one sleeping with her, but all of us loved her. How could you not, when she was the only kindness you knew? The only one who treated you like a person instead of a collection of body parts?
Debrief, the top read. Salinae. It was written in very matter of fact, straightforward language. A simple accounting of resources and outcome. The city of Salinae and its surrounding districts have been eliminated. One sentence, and I was once again standing in the dead remnants of Salinae. The dust. The toxic mist. The fucking smell. The way Raihn’s voice had wavered when he held that street sign. This is Salinae.
“I hate this place.” He exhaled the words, ragged, like he’d torn them from deep in his chest. “I hate these people. I hate this castle. I hate this fucking crown. But I don’t hate you, Oraya. Not even a little.” His face softened, and I so wanted to tear my eyes away and didn’t. “I failed you. I know that. I’m probably still—” He shook his head a little, as if to shut himself up. “But you and I are the same. There is no one I would rather have help me build a new version of this kingdom. And honestly, I… I don’t know if I can do it without you.”
There is nothing more dangerous than a bargain. No greater horrors than those you choose. No worse fate than one you beg for.
I’d won the Goddess-damned Kejari. I’d won battles against vampire warriors twice my size and ten times my age. I was the daughter of Vincent of the Nightborn, the greatest king to rule the House of Night, and I was his rightful Heir, and I was better than this.
I found Killan’s sword again. It was a clumsy, unremarkable weapon. I didn’t like fighting with traditional swords—they were big and awkward and didn’t move as fast as I did—but something pointy was something pointy.
I should have hated that Oraya had gotten a burst of power of her own from her ascension to Heir. But damn if I didn’t love to see it. Just like I loved to see the strength in her stare as she gritted her teeth and stepped closer.
The Taker of Hearts. Vincent’s sword. It was an incredible weapon—he’d had it for centuries, and never refuted or confirmed the legends surrounding it. That it was god-forged. That it was cursed. That it was blessed. That he’d carved out a little chunk of his own heart to have it made. He’d told me these legends when I was a child, sometimes—always with a completely serious face but a glint of amusement in his eye.
“Meet your bodyguard.” The words weren’t even out of his mouth before Mische was pushing past him, the grin on her face bright enough to light up the darkest corners of the castle. And Goddess damn me if I didn’t find myself returning it. Raihn put his hand—gently—on her shoulder, as if to physically restrain her from throwing herself at me. But she caught herself at the last minute anyway, stopping short of hugging me and instead offering me an enthusiastic, if awkward, wave. “I missed you!” she blurted out. Honestly? I’d missed her, too.
Turning is a fate worse than death. It is death, in a way—death of a version of yourself that you will never see again. Born vampires cannot possibly understand, nor are they usually especially inclined to. To them, the turmoil of the Turned is a sign of weakness. A snake, after all, does not mourn its skin. What they will never understand is how much that skin takes with it.
Lahor was that kind of place. The kind of place that the world just moved on without. No one had much of a reason to come here. Except for us.
Even for vampires, their stares were so… still. Empty. And every one of them fair-eyed blonds. “They’re Turned,” Raihn said, voice low. I glanced at him. “What?” “They’re Turned. The children. They’re all Turned.”
Evelaena turned to Raihn, approaching him. She didn’t bother to cover herself. Actually, by the way she was looking at him—with that still-insatiable hunger—it seemed very intentional not to do so. I found this more irritating than I had any right to.
My wings. It seemed like a ridiculous joke. Like a fucking miracle. How many times had I dreamed of having them? How many times had I looked at the sky and wished I could reach out to those stars like the vampires did?
Raihn, someone who had known me for less than a year, had seen that potential in me. And it was him—my enemy, someone who had every reason to cage me—who opened the door for me to seize that power.
The last thing I wanted was for you to think you could and start throwing yourself off of balconies. I choked out, “He knew.”
His mouth twisted into a wry smirk. “Love is fucking terrifying,” he murmured. “I think that’s true no matter who you are.” I stilled.
“We?” I shot Mische a glare. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “I’m just surprised she wanted to go anywhere with you.”
Tonight, I had seen her smile—really smile—for the first time in more than a month. And Goddess, it did something to me. It was like witnessing a rare natural phenomenon. And when I’d watched her fly tonight, alight with such joy, only one thought had rang out in my mind: I never knew something could look so beautiful flying away.
Vampires were every bit as fucked up.
I stared at it. My father’s blade, supposedly carrying a piece of his heart. Just being this close to it again made me feel as if Vincent was standing just over my shoulder, forever out of sight. If you are, I thought, you’d better help me here. You owe me that. That’s a rude way to speak to your father, Vincent replied, and I almost scoffed aloud.
I took a bite and almost melted back into the bed. Mother fucking damn him. I took another bite, and another. “Was I right?” Raihn said, infuriatingly smugly. “Mm,” I said, between bites. “I’ll take that as, ‘Delicious, Raihn. Thank you for this meal cooked with love, and also for saving my life.’” A joke. It was a joke. Still, my chewing slowed.
“You’re made for the sky, Oraya. Never let anyone take that away from you. Of course you’ll fly again.” He released me and returned to my back. Under his breath, he muttered, “Like I’d ever let that happen.”
“I dream about that sound.” His mouth was so close to my throat. I could feel his voice vibrate on my flesh, right against the scar that he’d left. “Do you know that?”
“Forgive me for what I’m about to say,” she said. “But why are you talking to me?” At that, I couldn’t help but laugh. “You are blunt.”
“You’re thinking too small, princess.” His voice was low, like he didn’t want to be heard. “You talk about vigilante justice, but I don’t need vigilante anything anymore. That’s what it means to rule a kingdom. It means the ability to change things.” The little curl still clung to the corner of his mouth, like a permanent shield, but his eyes were serious. Vulnerable, even.
Maybe the complicated truth was that Raihn was more like me than anyone ever had been. Rishan Heir or no.
“Are you asking if I fuck other women in this bed?” “Nevermind,” I grumbled, turning away. But he caught my hand, fingers gently intertwining with mine—not pulling, though, just hanging there between us. “I’m married,” he said. “In case you forgot.”
“I like a little fight,” he murmured. “Besides, she’s ruined me for all others. My own fucking fault, though. I knew it from the beginning.”
“She left his general alive—though forever tainted—and sent him back to the House of Blood with the prince’s head.” Septimus’s eyes slipped back to the fire. “I have only heard my mother cry once,” he murmured. “Only once.” Understanding dawned on me. “He was your brother,” I said. “One of them. My parents were unusually fertile for a vampire couple. I had seven siblings. Six brothers. One sister.” Had.
My Heir Mark pulsed, glowing slightly in the dimness of the room. Maybe my human eyes, much more sensitive to the difference between light and darkness, were more aware of that than those of my vampire counterparts. It seemed to fit the dress so perfectly, the neckline framing the wings of red ink across the span of my shoulders, the plunging V revealing the spear of smoke between my breasts. It would be safer to wear the mantle.
When I went to the door, I left the mantle on the floor.
Still, since the Kejari, even human blood didn’t hold the same appeal. It tasted… one-note. Either too savory or too cloying. Since the Kejari. No, since a certain cave, and a certain woman, and a slew of tastes and sounds and sensations that I’d probably be chasing for the rest of my damned life.
Maybe I just imagined that the entire world stopped when my wife walked into the ballroom.
“I’d spend a lifetime at the tip of your blade, and it would have been worth it.”
Vincent’s sword. The Taker of Hearts. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I sheathed my blades and unwrapped the sword. When my hand closed around the hilt, it didn’t hurt at all. Mother, how could I ever have thought it hurt? This wasn’t pain. This was power. This is what you were always meant to be, my little serpent, Vincent whispered in my ear.
“Oraya!” Raihn’s scream cleaved through the air, even through the sounds of a kingdom falling. I forced my eyes open to see smears of blurring color. He was diving down after me, wings spread, covered in blood, a single hand reaching out for me. Something about this image looked so familiar, and then it clicked—the painting of the Rishan man falling, one hand outstretched. I’d always thought he was reaching for the gods. He was reaching for me.
Nyaxia is far away, floating up in the heavens as if observing the amusing consequences of her latest gift. But one can always feel a god’s eyes. And Nyaxia looks directly at him that night. He can feel her stare like a blessing, a curse, an iron stake nailing him to a destiny he does not want. And she smiles—a cruel, beautiful, devastating sight. He tries to tell himself that he does not sense what changes in this moment. He tries to tell himself that he imagines the dizzying, disorienting burst of power through his veins. He tries to tell himself that the sudden shock of pain up his spine is
...more
“I’m Alya,” she said. “I’m your aunt.”
Inked over the back of my hand, in a triangle formed between the ring and the bracelet, was a map.
I opened my palm and let the shard fall to the table with a metallic plink. Vincent’s ghost stepped back into the shadows. “Could you make them,” I asked, “into dual blades?” I glanced back at Raihn, and the pride in his face caught me off-guard. His eyes crinkled with a barely-there, knowing smirk. And Goddess damn him, I could practically hear him saying it: There she is.
Because that name was all those things, wasn’t it? Raihn. My downfall and my most valuable supporter. My weakness and my strength. My worst enemy and the greatest love I had ever known. All of that in one name. One person. One soul I knew as well as my own, just as confusing, just as flawed.
“I love you,” he said, in a single, urgent breath. “I just—I need you to know that. I love you, Oraya.” And then he kissed me once, roughly, messily, and he was gone before I had the chance to say anything else. Just leaving me standing there, swaying, with those three words.
It would be awfully pathetic if, after everything I’d been through, a fall down a flight of Goddess-damned stairs was the thing to take me now.
But, my little serpent, it is the most wonderful fear. Every minute with you is, even if I already regret all the mistakes I know I will make.
