Aslım ŞAYLAN
@CrazyBooklover
Michael Jackson hayranı(Moonwalker)(Soldier of Love) Harry Styles Hayranı(Harries) Taylor Swift Hayranı(Swiftie) ve kitap delisi
119 okur puanı
Mayıs 2024 tarihinde katıldı
Şu anda okuduğu kitap
Lyssandra as Aelien
She’d camouflaged herself better than he had. But Lysandra had the
advantage of wearing a coat that had been bred for these mountains.
Not that he’d said that to her. Or so much as glanced at her when
they’d departed on this scouting mission.
Aelin, apparently, had secret business in Eldrys and had left a note
with Galan and her new allies to account for her disappearance. Which
allowed Lysandra to accompany them on this task.
No one had noticed, in the nearly two months they’d been
maintaining this ruse, that the Queen of Fire had not an ember to show
for it. Or that she and the shape-shifter never appeared in the same place.
And no one, not the Silent Assassins of the Red Desert, or Galan
Ashryver, or the troops that Ansel of Briarcliff had sent with the armada
ahead of the bulk of her army, had picked up the slight tells that did not
belong to Aelin at all. Nor had they noted the brand on the queen’s wrist
that no matter what skin she wore, Lysandra could not change.
She did a fine job of hiding the brand with gloves or long sleeves.
And if a glimmer of scarred skin ever showed, it could be excused as
part of the manacle markings that remained.
The fake scars she’d also added, right where Aelin had them. Along
with the laugh and wicked grin. The swagger and stillness.
Aedion could barely stand to look at her. Talk to her. He only did so
because he had to uphold this ruse, too. To pretend that he was her
faithful cousin, her fearless commander who would lead her and
Terrasen to victory, however unlikely.
So he played the part. One of many he’d donned in his life.
Yet the moment Lysandra changed her golden hair for dark tresses,
Ashryver eyes for emerald, he stopped acknowledging her existence.
Some days, the Terrasen knot tattooed on his chest, the names of his
queen
Reklam
The Beginning
Once upon a time, in a land long since burned to ash, there lived a
young princess who loved her kingdom …
Words she had spoken to a prince. Once—long ago.
A prince of ice and wind. A prince who had been hers, and she his.
Long before the bond between their souls became known to them.
It was upon him that the task of protecting that once-glorious
kingdom now fell.
The prince whose scent was kissed with pine and snow, the scent of
that kingdom she had loved with her heart of wildfire.
Even when the dark queen presided over the hunter’s ministrations,
the princess thought of him. Held on to his memory as if it were a rock in
the raging river.
The dark queen with a spider’s smile tried to wield it against her. In
the obsidian webs she wove, the illusions and dreams she spun at the
culmination of each breaking point, the queen tried to twist the memory
of him as a key into her mind.
They were blurring. The lies and truths and memories. Sleep and the
blackness in the iron coffin. The days bound to the stone altar in the
center of the room, or hanging from a hook in the ceiling, or strung up
between chains anchored into the stone wall. It was all beginning to blur,
like ink in water.
So she told herself the story. The darkness and the flame deep within
her whispered it, too, and she sang it back to them. Locked in that coffin
hidden on an island within the heart of a river, the princess recited the
story, over and over, and let them unleash an eternity of pain upon her
body.
Once upon a time, in a land long since burned to ash, there lived a
young princess who loved her kingdom …
A Silent vow
He had been hunting for her since the moment she was taken from him.
His mate.
He barely remembered his own name. And only recalled it because
his three companions spoke it while they searched for her across violent
and dark seas, through ancient and slumbering forests, over storm-swept
mountains already buried in snow.
He stopped long enough to feed his body and allow his companions a
few hours of sleep. Were it not for them, he would have flown off, soared
far and wide.
But he would need the strength of their blades and magic, would need
their cunning and wisdom before this was through.
Before he faced the dark queen who had torn into his innermost self,
stealing his mate long before she had been locked in an iron coffin. And
after he was done with her, after that, then he’d take on the cold-blooded
gods themselves, hell-bent on destroying what might remain of his mate.
So he stayed with his companions, even as the days passed. Then the
weeks.
Then months.
Still he searched. Still he hunted for her on every dusty and forgotten
road.
And sometimes, he spoke along the bond between them, sending his
soul on the wind to wherever she was held captive, entombed.
I will find you.
Aslım ŞAYLAN
, bir kitap okuduPuan vermedi·960 syf.·
Beğendi
·11 günde okudu
·Okunma: 30 Nisan 2026 17:13
·2026 15. kitabı
