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The Fates have blessed you with a mate. His name is Prince Soren Celestial, heir to the throne of the Southern Lands, and your union will unite a shattered kingdom. The bloodshed that has ravaged the Southern Lands shall end, the lands shall be restored, and the old ways shall be honored once more. The Fates will guide you to him when your heart is ready.
and after two hundred years of heat soaking into my bones, I’ll have to reacclimate to the cooler, darker lands of the Unseelie Court. I clutch my cloak tighter around myself.
“I return here for my fate. I can’t wait any longer, not without angering the Fates themselves. I’d never do such a thing.”
My family, the Ravenswyrd Coven, was always neutral, but neutrality in a time of war is seen by both sides as nothing more than an act of aggression.
green hue of her skin, there's no mistaking that she’s a part-blood goblin,
There is much talk in the Northern Lands of the regent and how he rules in his nephew’s stead. After the untimely murder of his brother, Solas Celestial had taken the mantle of the regent and demanded respect as though he felt no mournful weight of such an undertaking,
My brother and I learned a lot about the War of the Witches in the Northern Lands, and Pemba became obsessed with finding out who killed our family and coven.
It was the same name on every lip. Kharl Balzog of the Renfyre Coven.
The morning I left Sol City, I tied the ribbon to the Ravenswyrd scepter, my family’s most precious relic, and tucked them both away inside my magic for safe keeping.
The scepter itself is an ancient object of great power, and though I once feared it, I learned to wield it with confidence.
My cousin, Princess Airlie Celestial Snowsong,
My hands tighten on Nightspark’s reins. My horse is as black as the night sky of the winter equinox, and his temper is just as unpredictable.
The Fates scream within me, demanding I kill the males touching her and all those who look on, gouge out their eyes for daring to look upon what is mine and for me alone.
Her eyes will unravel the calm within me until I’m nothing but the savage my uncle swears me to be.
He might be every bit the gorgeous high fae, but a cold heart beats in his chest, one that has no room for warmth in it toward me.
The cold-hearted prince who hunts witches for fun, relishes torture, and desires blood. The only whisper proven wrong so far is the one about his scarred face.
I want to spread her out on a torture table and pull her to pieces slowly, excruciatingly, until there is nothing beautiful left of her. I want to take every piece of frustration and grief and horror that has been given to me by this war and unleash it on her until there's nothing left. I want to destroy her.
“If you want me dead so badly, Savage Prince, then maybe you should just kill me.”
Her voice is too melodic. The way that it wraps around me and embraces me so wholly is like a dark seduction, a siren’s call. It’s different from the voice that haunted m...
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“If you disobey my orders and risk her life, your own is forfeit. No amount of loyalty you’ve shown me will take priority over the two of them.”
“Your people will wither and die, all while you're busy pouting about your fate. When you realize your mistake, you’ll have to beg me for my help, and still, I'll refuse to give it, because you're nothing but a useless, arrogant male. The regent might be drinking and dancing his way to ruin, but you're right alongside him, riding a horse with a sword into the very depths of darkness and taking your whole kingdom with you.”
“If nothing else, imagine how pissed off Soren is going to be when he's forced to admit he was wrong. That’s the only thing that stopped me from tearing a new hole in my cousin’s throat to breathe through as he whined and simpered in that stupid meeting.”
“The Ravenswyrd are dead, I killed them all! That is not my fate anymore.”
“You missed me.”
Alone and with no regard for her own safety, the witch fights for Yregar.
“She's praying for our dead, to see them safely to Elysium. The same soldiers who've whispered their hopes for her suffering and death at your hands, and she's out there reading them their last rites to see them on their journey safely.”
