Two Twisted Crowns (The Shepherd King #2)

by Rachel Gillig

Elspeth Spindle, the only woman Ravyn had ever loved.

“What does the Shepherd King want?” he asked the girl-spirit. “What is he after?” “Balance,” she answered, head tilting like a bird of prey. “To right terrible wrongs. To free Blunder from the Rowans.” Her yellow eyes narrowed, wicked and absolute. “To collect his due.”

Ravyn had been a liar always out of necessity, never a fondness for the craft. It was one of the many masks he wore. And he’d worn it so long that, even when he should take it off, he didn’t always know how.

:(

“You’ll get your wish,” the King called after him. “When this is all over, I’m stripping you of command.” His words were coated in spite. “You’ve proven a wretched disappointment, Ravyn.” Ravyn lowered himself at the door, a final bow. “From you, Uncle, that is praise indeed.”

Ione stepped into the chamber. She traced her cold eyes over the room, the Physicians, the King. When she found Elm, her gaze softened a fraction. Her body was rigid. But her shoulders rose in the smallest shrug. She’d come. Into Hauth’s room. For him.

“I’d be your King, but always your servant. Never your keeper.”

cuties

I can’t fucking breathe when you look at me, Ione.

“I’m yours. Even if you won’t be Queen—I’m yours.”

Your cousin Elm has done more than Brutus Rowan or I ever could. He has looked pain in the eye—and refused to let it make a monster of him.”

Ravyn? Even now, taut with strain, her voice eased him, like a warm cloth pressed over his eyes. Yes, Elspeth? Don’t die. I won’t. Because if you do, and we never get the time we’re owed, I’ll hate you, Ravyn Yew. I’ll love you and hate you forever. The corner of his lip quirked. This will all be over at midnight, Elspeth. After that, you can love me as thoroughly as you like.

I was more than the girl, the King, and the monster of Blunder’s dark, twisted tale. I was its author.