Tüm dünya kıza tapınıyor adeta.Alıntı
"Ne diyorsun, imkan yok,
Gisele bana mı bakar?"
"Ya beni reddederse?
Terslerse misal?
Üstelik sporcu kız.
Kick-box filan yapıyor..."
The Secret Weapon
“Raphael,” I say weakly. “There’s a secret—”
One of the goons hits me, a sudden punch into my stomach, and my
breath whooshes out. I feel like I’m suffocating.
I glance up. Raphael unsheathes his sword, his eyes lit with silver, but
Wrythe already has a dagger pressed to my throat. The knife edges into my
skin.
“Step any closer, and she dies,” he tells Raphael.
“This is over, Wrythe,” Raphael says evenly. “Let her go.”
Wrythe pauses for a few seconds. “I am merely doing my job,
protecting my people from a dangerous traitor.”
“Nia is an Avalon Steel Knight. She’s done more for our cause than any
of you—”
“Enough!” Wrythe raises his voice, his knife digging into my throat.
“You want to do this here? Very well. Let’s talk about your precious Avalon
Steel Knight. Where’s Tarquin?”
“Right here.” He steps up beside me and shoots me a disdainful look.
Wrythe eases the knife from my throat but presses it against my back,
just next to my spine. “You’ll have your chance to talk here, mongrel,” he
hisses in my ear, “but if you attempt to interrupt me before I have my say, I
will ram my knife through your ribs so fast, you won’t get a single syllable
out.”
Hatred roils through my veins. I’ll wait for my chance, and then I’ll tell
Raphael and the rest everything. I’ll risk a stabbing to get the truth out.
And then Tarquin turns and reaches his arm back to bring another
woman forward, and my heart sinks.
Mom.
She looks put together, for once. Her hair is dyed blonde, her makeup is
perfect. Someone’s been looking after her.
I have no idea what she’s doing here, but I know it’s not good.
“Let her go,” I blurt. “She’s got nothing to do with this.”
0-30p: Kontrollü okuyucu 📖
40-70p: Hafif bağımlı 👀
80p+: Geçmiş olsun, kitaplar seni ele geçirmiş 😅
Close Combat
A queen’s power roars to life inside me. Take the crown that belongs to
us. Take what’s yours.
Imbued with their magic, I shove him hard.
He staggers back, a sharp smile on his face. “Do you know what, wife?
It’s been far too long since anyone has truly challenged me. I think I was
starting to miss it.”
Magic rushes into me from the earth, and I charge at him, but this time,
he’s ready and moves for me with a shocking speed.
He grabs my wrist, twisting my arm sharply behind my back, then
shoves my chest against the tree. Every nerve in my body is alight. My face
presses against the rough bark, and I catch my breath.
Leaning close, he whispers, his breath warming the side of my face.
“You’ve been playing me all along, little liar. And here I thought you
needed to be saved…”
“Blocking you out of my head kept me weak,” I say. “But now I’m
free.”
I slam my head back into his face, causing him to lose his grip. I spin
around and kick him high in the chest, my foot colliding with what feels
like pure rock. Even worse, he manages to catch my foot on the way down.
With a dark smile, he twists my leg and flips me onto my stomach. I hit the
ground hard, grunting from the pain.
I gasp sharply for breath. Rolling over, I kick him hard in the thigh, and
he winces. Swift as lightning, he’s on top of me now, his hand around my
throat. Not squeezing. Just holding me in place. Dominating. Owning me.
Curiosity flickers in his eyes, a flare of copper in the darkness. “What
are you, exactly? How did a demi-Fey become this strong?”
Morgan’s power streams into me again from the earth. Dark-eyed
usurper…you need to know your place. You’re not here to be king. You’re
here to be consort.
“Do you really want to know who I am?” My words cut through
clenched teeth, echoes of ladies long gone
The Lady of the Lake
But as I crouch there, curled up like prey, something shifts in my
thoughts. With the heavy fog out of my mind, I can feel the pulse of magic
flowing through me, stronger than ever. The veil I’ve been using to shield
myself from Talan must have been leeching my magic, smothering my
powers all this time, but it’s gone.
My magic roars to the surface.
When Tana first told me I was the Lady of the Lake, I didn’t know what
it meant. Mordred had promised these powers would grow in Brocéliande,
surrounded by a world of magic. Magic feeds on magic, blooming from the
soil of enchantment here. But only now can I truly feel the Lady of the
Lake’s powers cascading through me, a waterfall of strength.
I’m not alone after all.
An ancient, unbreakable bond connects me to the Ladies of the Lake
who came before me, a magical current flowing through time and merging
with Nimuë’s spirit. This is her home now, and her body lies buried in the
soil of Brocéliande. Her magic lives in the ground beneath me. Her spirit
rushes through the trees and shimmers on the forest rivers.
But it’s Morgan’s power, too. Before she ruled as queen, she was the
Lady of the Lake. Now, her magic ripples through my body.
All three of us—Nimuë, Morgan, and me—are entwined, our forces
churning together.
I am no longer just Nia Melisande, hunted and alone. I am a covenant of
three. A sisterhood. A triple spiral carved into the stones, strong as the oaks,
old as the rocks. Fathomless as the lake itself.
As the magical current flows into my soul, my senses grow sharper,
Fey-like. I am the living keeper of Lake Avalon’s power.
I hear Vidal and the other attackers creeping toward me, their pounding
hearts and labored breaths. My senses drink in every detail: the thick scent
of their hair oils, the faint creak of
A Dragon ride
“We’re winning, but I have to leave Brocéliande again for a few days.”
He studies me for a long moment. “Before I go, do you want to join me for
a ride?”
My heart sinks at the phrase we’re winning. “Okay. I’ll get Clover. I
think she’s in the stable now, right?”
A corner of his mouth lifts. “Yes, but I didn’t mean a ride on a horse.”
I press my hand to my chest. “Oh. Is this really how the legendary
seducer proposes sex?”
His slow, sly smile sends heat prickling down my spine. “I do love that
that’s where your mind went, but I meant on Tarasque. Do you want to ride
with me on a dragon?”
“On the dragon?” Is he out of his mind? “But only dragon riders are
allowed to ride. Also, I’d fall off.”
“I’m the best dragon rider who’s ever lived, and I will keep you on. I
know how you like to cling to me, anyway. You won’t slip.”
My heart pounds with the allure of doing something dangerous,
something that I absolutely should not be doing. And yet…when will I ever
get the chance to ride a dragon again? Probably never. “Let’s do it.”
His eyebrow rises in what I’ve learned is admiration. “Good. Meet me
on the other side of the Lost Palace. I can only get her out that way.”
My pulse races as I step outside into the biting air and wind my way
down the path around the old palace. Icicles drip from gargoyles and stone
carvings of human heads with tusks and owls with their wings spread out.
Snowy yew branches arch over me.
As I walk, I hear the creak and groan of doors opening. I follow the path
around the palace and see Tarasque lumbering through the doors and into
the garden. Talan is in front of her, completely at ease with his beast. He
radiates quiet confidence and power that makes my breath catch. “Let’s go,
Tarasque.”
The enormous dragon slithers forward, and I can feel the
She did it
Raphael was wrong. Although the dream is in our minds, we have no
control over it. Our fantasy of escape is just that—a fantasy. The Dream
Stalker let us think we were escaping, like a cat toying with a mouse, but
we’re still there. Our bodies are still in the Château des Rêves, enfolded in a
terrible nightmare. Sooner or later, the dark prince and his guards will find
us. Fear crackles through my nerves.
If I know I’m dreaming, can I force myself to wake? I pinch myself, but
that doesn’t help. Pain is real in this nightmare, and it’s not a way out. If we
drown here, I feel disturbingly certain that would mean the end for us.
What does the Dream Stalker want? I’ve heard his thoughts for years.
He craves pleasure and beauty, but he always feels alone. If I’m in the
château right now, as I suspect, could I slip into his mind as I accidentally
did before? Maybe—only then—we can find a way out of this nightmare.
The thought of going anywhere near him, much less his thoughts, scares
the shit out of me. I’ve already come close to losing my sanity by invading
too many people’s thoughts. It would be dumb to risk drowning in a sea of
consciousness again, but do I have a choice? Not if I wish to escape this
nightmare.
Gripping the slippery wooden edge of the boat, I close my eyes and
focus on the magic inside me, the frenetic, high-pitched, violet magic that
allows me to hear another person’s thoughts.
As I summon it, I recall the way the prince’s mind felt as it touched
mine. Dark, brooding. Obsessed with sex.
I channel my telepathic powers at that mind and feel something brush
my thoughts, a shadow of another entity. Dark. Alluring. Seductive. But
right now—above all—furious.
But it’s hard to concentrate with the boat heaving up and down,
threatening to spit me into the void.
