First Sparks
What happened to your family?” I ask, deflecting.
He winces nearly imperceptibly. “My mother raised me. My father was
never in the picture. Auberon considered my human mother an enemy of the
crown, even though she hardly had any money. I don’t understand what he
had against her, except that he blamed all his failures on humans. And she
was human.” He leans back against the wall and stares out at the river.
Sensing he needs a drink, I hand him the flask.
He takes a sip. “We didn’t realize how far he was going to go. This was
before the invasion of France, when our world was still secret. And we
never imagined…my mom thought if she just kept quiet, he’d leave her
alone. So, we kept to ourselves. But one day, Auberon’s soldiers raided our
home. There was no trial, no jury, no chance to repent. Dawn broke, and
they slaughtered my mom in the garden.”
His jaw clenches, but he keeps talking, as if he’s forgotten I’m there.
“We’d all been in bed, then someone knocked on the door.” He takes
another sip. “They wanted to kill everyone in the house. My sister screamed
at me to run to the forest, that Mom was gone, and they were after us. I ran.
I thought she was behind me.” A line forms between his eyebrows. “She
wasn’t, and I ran back to find her, but I couldn’t find her anywhere.”
My chest aches. “How old were you?”
“Nine. My sister was sixteen.”
I swallow hard. “And you never found her?”
He hands me the mead. “I kept searching the forest, living off berries
and water from the stream. She never came. I think I was half-dead when a
demi-Fey family found me and took me with them to France. It was really
amazing luck, I suppose. I was heartbroken, but they brought me to the
château with them, and I started working, picking grapes.” He glances at
me. “You know the rest. And now this
What Happened?
He takes a seat in a high-back leather chair and folds his arms. “Why
don’t you report in detail how you helped the fugitives reach us?” He still
sounds like he doesn’t believe me. After all, what could garbage like me
possibly know?
I sigh, growing flustered. “I was having birthday cake at a restaurant. I
ordered lavender, but they brought blackberry—”
“I mean report the relevant details.”
“Fine.”
He lifts a finger. “Hang on, you were celebrating your birthday by
yourself?”
I glare at him. That’s right, I’m a giant loser on top of everything else.
“I’m on vacation by myself, yes. Not that it’s any of your business—”
“From what I remember, you spend a lot of time on holidays,” he
murmurs.
“Do you want me to report or not?” I say sharply.
I suppose I don’t need to tell him that my days of having luxury
vacations are over, that I spent five years eating store-brand cereal to save
up the fare. And tempting as it is, I will not tell him that he ruined five years
of careful planning by kidnapping me. “If you must know, Raphael, I saw
the demi-Fey through a restaurant window. By the time I realized who they
were, someone was watching us, and I was guilty by association. There
were Fey soldiers marching around. The fugitives looked terrified, and I
hate when people are scared.” My mind flickers with a memory of Mother
screaming that bugs were crawling on her skin. I clear my throat. “So I
pretended to be a tour guide and that they were my group. And I led them to
the docks.”
“And that was it? You just jumped in and brought them to me?”
“It wasn’t that easy,” I snap. “A member of the group panicked and ran.
Vena was separated from us, and the Fey soldiers slit her throat. That’s why
I didn’t want you to leave the others behind. They’re executing people in
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💬 Siz olsanız bu listeden hangisiyle başlardınız?
They are on good terms
Are you sure you don’t want to go back and see it?”
I stare at Kilorn like he’s just grown a second head. The suggestion is so absurd, I almost don’t answer. But he looks at me, expectant, innocent as a child. Or at least as innocent as he can be. Kilorn was never particularly innocent, even when we were children.
He shoves his hands in the pockets of his Montfort uniform, waiting for my response.
“See what?” I scoff, shrugging my shoulders as we walk across the Archeon airfield. Clouds hang low on the horizon, obscuring the setting sun, as well as the smoke still trailing from parts of the city. It’s been a week, and they’re still putting out fires. “A house on rickety sticks? It’s probably ransacked, if someone else isn’t living there,” I mutter, thinking of my old home in the Stilts. I haven’t been back and I have little desire to ever return. I wouldn’t be surprised if the stilt house were no longer standing. I can easily imagine Maven destroying it out of spite. When he was alive. I don’t care to find out either way.
“Why, do you want to go back to the Stilts?”
Kilorn shakes his head, almost bouncing in his steps. “Nope. Anything I cared about isn’t there anymore.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” I reply. He seems oddly eager to return to Montfort. “What about Cameron?” I add, careful to keep my voice low. Currently, Cameron and her parents are helping everyone else coordinate with the tech towns. Obviously, they know the former slums best, and how to repurpose them.
“What about her?” Kilorn smirks down at me, offering a shrug of his own. He’s trying to throw me off. A hint of a flush dusts his cheeks with color. “She’ll be coming out to Montfort in a month or so, with the Red Nortan contingent and some newbloods. Once things are a bit more settled.”
“To
A job to serve the king
When the door bangs open at dawn, I’m not frightened. Security searches are normal, though we usually only get one or two a year. This will be the third.
“C’mon, Gee,” I mutter, helping her out of her cot and down the ladder. She moves precariously, leaning on her good arm, and Mom waits for us on the floor. Her arms close around Gisa, but her eyes are on me. To my surprise, she doesn’t look angry or even disappointed with me. Instead, her gaze is soft.
Two officers wait by the door, their guns hanging by their sides. I recognize them from the village outpost, but there’s another figure, a young woman in red with a triple-colored crown badge over her heart. A royal servant, a Red who serves the king, I realize, and I begin to understand. This is not a usual search.
“We submit to search and seizure,” my father grumbles, speaking the words he must every time this happens. But instead of splitting off to paw through our house, the Security officers stand firm.
The young woman steps forward and, to my horror, addresses me. “Mare Barrow, you have been summoned to Summerton.”
Gisa’s good hand closes around mine, like she can hold me back. “W-What?” I manage to stammer.
“You have been summoned to Summerton,” she repeats, and gestures to the door. “We will escort you. Please proceed.”
A summons. For a Red. Never in my life have I heard of such a thing. So why me? What have I done to deserve this?
On second thought, I’m a criminal and probably considered a terrorist due to my association with Farley. My body prickles with nerves, every muscle taut and ready. I’ll have to run, even though the officers block the door. It’ll be a miracle if I make it to a window.
“Calm down, everything’s settled after yesterday.” She chuckles, mistaking my fear. “The Hall and the market are well
Sayfa 57
"She stopped short. She must have been thinking about Gran's house, but it would be the same hell there. That was when she decided to enter the world of the orange tree and my dreams"
Sayfa 128 - Aniden durdu. Büyükannesinin evini düşünüyor olmalıydı ama orası da aynı cehennem olacaktı. İşte o zaman portakal ağacının ve rüyalarımın dünyasına girmeye karar verdi.·Kitabı okudu
A Perfect love Declaration
“So fucking devastated that I was going to lose you,” he replies,
stark honesty rumbling out of his gravelly voice. “That I was going to lose
you before I could tell you that I love you.”
Breath sucks in between my lips, my eyes widening as I stare at him.
“Love?”
He pauses and studies my face like his dark brown eyes are soaking
up every inch of me. “Yes, Rissa Bell. I fucking love you.”
My mind sputters, heart skipping. “But…we barely know each other.
We’ve barely spent any time together,” I say in a rush, looking around like
excuses are going to start falling onto the floor so I can pick them all up.
“We can’t even stand each other!”
He smirks. “We like the fire. We each don’t back down to the other,
and we like it that way. So don’t lie and try to act like we can’t stand each
other, because we both know that’s not true.”
My pulse feels like there are a thousand birds taking flight within
every vein, fluttering all over.
“You almost died,” he says again. “And I’ll never fucking forget
how close it was. Just like I won’t waste any more time now that we’ve
gotten a second chance. We can’t fight this anymore, Rissa. I’m claiming
you as mine.”
I stare at him. Mouth opening and closing like a struggling fish. “Are
you out of your mind? You can’t just…claim me!” I say shrilly.
“I just did.”
My back stiffens. “I am an independent woman. I decide who to be
with.”
“You’ll decide to be with me.”
My teeth grind. “You cocky son of a bitch.”
“And yours.”
“Mine?” I scoff and try to slap his hand away from my waist, but he
pays the swat no mind, his touch still holding me. “What, you’re mine until
