The Bassilix Hunt
Somewhere in the depths of the forest, the basilisk is already hunting us.
Or rather, hunting me.
On his own, Talan would have no problem escaping this creature, but I
keep getting winded, my lungs wheezing. I can fight and throw daggers and
control people’s minds. What I cannot do is run like a Fey. I stopped
sprinting after about ten minutes.
I’m behind Talan. I walk quickly through the dark woods, twigs
snapping under my feet, and try to keep up with the Dream Stalker.
Armed with a bow, Talan prowls with a tiger’s grace. He’s all silence
and shadows, a quiet breeze between the trunks. When he catches my eye,
he doesn’t give the slightest hint of concern about the primordial monster
hunting us.
The fuck have I gotten myself into?
The snow crunches beneath my boots, and the chill seeps through to my
toes. Every breath of frozen air sears my lungs, and my heartbeat pounds in
my ears.
Barren and gnarled tree branches arch toward each other, a twisted, icy
cathedral above our heads. Apart from the sounds of our footfalls, quiet
blankets the forest. The silence is more menacing than noise, and fear
crawls under my skin.
Am I a spy or a prisoner who’s completely lost control of my mission?
As an undercover agent, I should be a manipulator, a puppeteer, influencing
those around me to work for my agenda. Instead, I’m fleeing from a fucking
basilisk so I can marry a man I’ve kissed once, a man I’m also trying to kill.
Worst game of Kiss, Marry, Kill ever.
The cold air pierces my lungs and stings my cheeks.
Part of me wonders if Talan already knows the truth about me. Maybe
this is all a slow torture plan—a punishment to take me apart one piece at a
time until I’m left defenseless before him and confess everything.
My lungs burn, the airways tightening. Of course, I don’t have
you cannot hide yourself behind a fairytale forever and everAlıntı
gerçekten çoğunlukla kaçılır
çünkü çirkin ve nahoştur
düşkırıklığına uğramanın doğurduğu öfkeye hazırlıklı değilseniz doğru ve gerçeğe başvurmayın
hayat o kadar zorlu ve sıkıntı vericidir ki, romantizm üreten veya fantezi kuran insanlar çöldeki vahalar gibidir herkes oraya koşar.
Sayfa 336 - altın kitap
📚🔔 Tatil zili çaldı!
Bir yıl boyunca verilen emeklerin ardından şimdi dinlenme, keşfetme ve yeni maceralara atılma zamanı. 🌞
Bu yaz bol kahkahalı, bol anılı ve elbette bol kitaplı geçsin. Tüm öğrencilere keyifli tatiller diliyoruz! 💙📖
“Sorry to break your fairytale, Little Fox, but ballads don’t end happily, and neither do the two of us.”
Turleys Heir
The back of my neck prickles. “How do you know my name?”
“Oh, everyone in Geisel will know your name.” Her hand lifts as if she’s
going to touch my arm, but she stops herself when I stiffen. “Those who
live here remember the lost gilded girl. It could only be you,” she says, gaze
sweeping over my skin, my hair, my eyes.
My brow furrows.
“I knew what was happening right away,” she says with pride. “You
flared like the dawn, spilling from a fracture, and then you fell from the sky
and dropped into that field. Just like she did, so long ago.”
I swallow hard. “Like who did?”
“Why, Saira Turley, of course.”
That name sends chills down my arms, and my pulse pounds in my ears.
I used to beg my mother to tell me the story of Saira Turley over and over
again. I loved hearing about the Orean girl who walked the bridge to
nowhere and fell into a world of magic. How she grew into a woman and
won the heart of the fae prince. She was the one who united Annwyn and
Orea as sister realms and made the bridge of Lemuria our road to each
other. It was a true fairytale.
Her story always stuck with me, even when so many other memories did
not.
I clear my throat. “But I didn’t come here like she did. Saira Turley
walked on a bridge and came to Annwyn. I…fell out of the sky.”
“Not just any sky. This sky. Here in Geisel,” she presses, the wrinkles
around her eyes crinkling as she smiles, finger raised toward the ceiling.
“You fell through the clouds and landed in the exact same field as she, with
broken wings streaming behind you like sunrays.”
Both of our eyes drop to the ribbons wrapped around my waist. I grab
hold of them protectively, reminding myself that they’re still here, letting
them steady me on this uneven ground.
“They’re not wings, they’re…” I shake my head, overwhelmed. “I
no
Deliberately, his gaze fell to her lips.
Her breathing turned ragged, and she wished just once that he could
kiss her.
He leaned closer and gently twisted her hair, angling her head as he
brought their mouths incredibly close.
“You’re still bleeding.” He licked the center of her lips, soft and
agonizingly slow. His tongue felt like heaven and hell. Like everything she
wanted and all she couldn’t have. She had to stop herself from leaning
closer, though she doubted Jacks would let her. She could feel his fingers
against her scalp, holding her in place, keeping her lips just shy of his.
But maybe it was close enough. Maybe they didn’t have to touch. She
could live like this as long as she could live with him.
Then he let her go. He dropped her hair and stepped away from the
bed, making her skin go suddenly cold.
Jacks raked a hand through his hair. “Do you still want to know what
the stones do when they’re together?”
“Yes,” she said. But suddenly, she felt nervous. This was the answer
she’d been waiting for. The one she’d been begging for. All this time, she’d
been dying to know what Jacks really wanted. For a while, she’d been
afraid of it, because she didn’t want him to hurt anyone. But now from the
way he looked at her, she suddenly feared the only person his answer would
hurt was her.
Jacks crossed over to his desk and picked up a white apple. He tossed
it as he said, “When the four stones are combined, a person has the power to
return to any moment in their past. It can only be done once. Once the
stones have been used for this purpose, they’ll never have the power to be
used like this again.”
For a second, it didn’t sound so bad. Lots of people had moments they
wanted to change. That day alone there were several things Evangeline
would have done differently. “What
The Prophecy
“I’ve been trying to learn more about your country, to prepare to be your
bride—”
“That’s a wonderful idea, my heart! You’re going to be such an
excellent queen,” Apollo crooned, practically breaking into song again.
Evangeline was tempted to end the conversation there. It would be a
crime to leave him forever trapped like this. But she couldn’t ignore the
prophecy.
She took a deep breath and braced herself, gripping the plush edge of
the bed as she asked, “Have you ever heard of the Valory Arch?”
Apollo’s grin turned boyish. “I thought you were going to ask me
something frightening.”
She thought she had.
“The Valory Arch is what you would call a fairytale.”
Evangeline wrinkled her brow. “Where I’m from, we call all of your
history fairytales.”
“I know.” His dark eyes twinkled with mischief, and for a moment, he
didn’t look quite so enchanted. He just looked like a boy, trying to tease a
girl.
“Our history was cursed, but there are some tales we believe in more
than others. Everyone believes certain things to be real history, like the
existence of the Valors. But some of the stories about them have become so
twisted over time they’re considered to be what you would call fairytales.
Among these is the myth of the Valory Arch.” His voice deepened, turning
more dramatic as he slid onto the bed beside her, close, but not quite near
enough to touch.
“The stories about the Valory Arch are among our cursed tales. Stories
on the Valors can only be passed down via word of mouth, and in the case
of the Valory Arch, there are two different versions of the tale. Lucky for
you, I know them both.”
He graced her with a proud grin, and Evangeline felt more of the
