Defy the Night

A spark of rebellion is all it takes to defy the night.

I think that very few people truly deserve what they get, Tessa.” He pauses, and for the briefest moment, sadness flickers through his eyes. “For good or for bad.

When there are calls for revolution,” I say to him, “we should be riding at the front, not hiding in the shadows.

Because despite all outward appearances, I’m not cruel. I don’t delight in pain. I don’t delight in any of this.

There are too many layers here. I thought it was as simple as right or wrong . . . ​but it’s not.

He looks like revolution. He looks like compassion. Blue eyes and gentle hands and quick feet and a core of strength and steel.

True strength is not determined by how brutal you can be,” she says, and her tone is still quiet, but full of steel. “True leadership is not determined by killing those who oppose you.

Kindness leaves you vulnerable, Tessa. I learned that lesson years ago.

I do what I can. And every day, I regret that it's never enough

I have heard every manner of scream without flinching. I have listened to promises and threats and curses and lies—and occasionally, the truth. I have never hesitated in doing what needs to be done.

You make me want to do better,” he says suddenly, and his voice is thick with emotion, so I go still. “You make me wish Weston Lark was real, because you will never look at me the way you look at him. I don’t know how to fix everything I’ve done wrong, Tessa. I don’t even know if I can. But I want to try.

I’ll never be free of this. Of who I am. This will be my life as King’s Justice: Cruel Corrick, the most feared man in the kingdom, and somehow also the most alone.

I’m not a killer. I heal people; I don’t harm them.

Please, my love,” Corrick whispers into my ear. “Please.

Not never, Tessa,” he says, and his voice is so rich and deep that he could be speaking straight to my heart. “But not like this.

The girl is brave. Brilliant. Strong. Compassionate. The girl does more for Kandala than the spoiled consul standing in front of me.

just the two of us against the night.

Weston Lark tried to keep her safe. Prince Corrick can't show her mercy.

I bring nightmares to life,” I say. “If you think a dark look will affect me, you will quickly learn otherwise.

I was ready to kneel at my brother's feet and beg for release. I'm ready to kneel at Tessa's and beg for forgiveness.

Led by guards, she could easily look like a prisoner, but instead, she looks like a queen.

I wish I’d never let you kiss me,” she says quietly. I almost flinch. I should have let her hang on to the chain. Being hit with that would’ve hurt less.

Without a backward glance, Wes is over the top, and I’m on my own.

want my hands on her waist, on her back, on every inch of skin this gown leaves bare—and some inches that it does not. I want her scent in my head and her taste on my tongue and her arms wound around my neck. I can’t move. I want her to want those things, too.

I can’t,” I say again, my eyes burning into hers. “I can’t, Tessa. You don’t know how many times I wished dawn wouldn’t come so quickly. How many times I wanted to stay with you instead of returning to this. How many times I wished I were truly Weston Lark, that Prince Corrick was the fabrication.

Without warning, he strides forward, catches my waist in both hands, then presses his mouth to mine.

True strength is not determined by how brutal you can be," She says, and her tone is still quiet, but full of steel. "True leadership is not determined by killing those who oppose you.

Corrick offers me his hand to help me into the carriage. This time, I take it.