A Deadly Vow (Fate of Vengeance, #1)

by J.D. Ronan

“Go away! Go away!” she screeched. I was going to rip every bone out of her attacker’s body one by one and force them to remain alive to feel the blood leave their arteries. The fire in my veins charred as I materialized into the air, fueling my attack— On a frog? I gasped between harsh breaths as my soul flighted back into my body. Sabine’s eyes flashed over the top of a boulder; her wet hair flattened against the top of her scalp. “Don’t just stand there!” She pointed at her attacker. “Do something!” My jaw dropped like a weight was attached to it as the tiny, yellow-spotted frog leaped in between my boots from a rock it had been perched on. Its purple eyes sparkled with a bit of mischief before it hopped onto a twig and headed downstream to float away. Did that frog just. . . mock me? “What took you so damn long?” I turned back as she waded toward me, neck deep, her white hair weaving through the cool waters behind her. “Someone could have risen me from the dead and stabbed me twice by the time you found me—some general you are.” Did she just. . . insult me?

“I do not hide, nor do I cower to any form of man. I do not give information to those who could easily obtain it themselves. Do not misplace your anger upon me, when you could very well have found out by asking your brother yourself.” Dark laughter left his lips. “You are good, but I would do no such thing. For I already know my brother too well. He’s as good with women as he is with words, and that is not very well as you’ll come to find. . . or maybe you already have?” He shrugged.

I love the banter between her and Drakkon!!!!

He sighed. “Considering that you’ve fallen in love with the enemy of our kingdom, General, I would at least expect you to know her favorite color.” The tip of my quill snapped, exploding droplets of ink on the page. “I do not—” I stiffened. No—that was not a sentence I could finish. “Yes. . . I care for her. . . and it would be important to remember the next time you chastise my wife,” I painfully recovered. “My wife,” he taunted as he walked over to sit on the edge of my desk with a low chuckle. “Is that what you are writing in that cute little notebook of yours? My wife. My wife.”

The notebook!!!!

I firmly pressed on the edge of my papers, hastily scooting them out from underneath him. I straightened them, knocking the edges against the desk three times before I sat them on the farthest corner away from him, and picked up a new quill. Drakkon’s lips parted with a drawn-out sigh. His eyes roamed over the contents of my desk, fingers fumbling through the air in search to find an object to move a quarter of an inch. I clenched my teeth, the quill scraping harshly against the page. “Drakkon. I have work to do.”

Drakkon really added some comic relief in the story. I love him!

Keahi had either felt or noticed my discomfort. He attempted to lighten the tension. “I promise to not draw on you while you sleep. Although I would find it wildly entertaining to see how that temper of yours would react to find you had a mustache on your face the entire day without noticing.” I cracked a small smile, realizing it was the first one I had ever given him or anyone in a long time. This back and forth between us, although not always civil, made it easier. “You must be very resourceful in the art of war, General. I bet your soldiers sleep with one eye open.”

So he doesn’t always take himself so seriously.

“Do you ever, just, not say what you are thinking?” I asked. He waved around his breakfast on the tip of his fork. “That is the wrong question to ask, considering I may have many more thoughts that I do not say out loud. Though I tend to feel it is a reflex I gained after spending so much time with my brother; I believe Keahi spoke maybe two words his entire childhood.” “I’m not really sure he had room to talk,” I mumbled. His gold-rimmed eyes flared, letting me know he heard my remark. Drakkon shrugged. “He was a good listener, at least.

“I’m seeing that I cannot trust the two of you, especially together.” I breathed out. “Why would you ever trust me at all?” He smirked. “But I will not leave you unarmed in case you decide you cannot tolerate me further.”

“Because even if you cannot feel it, I have, and it has taught me to hope when I should not.”

My life flashed before my eyes; not the one I had lived, but the one I wanted to live with her. A life where I was not bound to fear but conquered it daily on the tightline. Each step was scarier than the first; hell beneath my feet. But it did not matter when Sabine was on the other side. I wanted her despite it. Golden eyes like the first ray of sun, the sweet smell of her skin in the wind of her long white hair, and a smile that dared the realm to cross her. Sabine had a heart that death itself feared, and I was begging it to fear her for one more day.

He looked at me like he had the night in the library, like he saw me through stained glass; peering through the broken pieces stitched together. The parts that did not fit but somehow remained intact, glued together by burdened indignation. He saw what it left of me, the only thing that I could offer.

Love this! Maybe one of my favorite quotes from the book!

I have never feared death, but I have always feared living. Living meant I had hope, and hope has always been a far heavier burden than death. There would be nothing for me to regret if I never allowed my desire to exist.