Gathering Darkness

In the shadow my father has cast over my entire life, you are the only light I can see anymore. And, whatever the cost, I refuse to let that light be extinguished

Magnus had come to a horrible realization. One that he knew would cause him nothing but pain and suffering from that day forward. But there was no changing the truth of it. He had fallen in love with her.

You don't cry when someone pushes you down. You get up. You get up and you fight back. And pretty soon nobody's going to shove you anymore because they'll see it's not worth it.

You want to know why I did what I did?" His dark brows drew together as if he were only now allowing himself to consider this question. "Its fairly simple, actually. It's because, without your bravery in the face of all that's happened to you, without your constant scheming behind my back, without that fire of hatred and contempt and hope in your eyes when you look at me..." He hissed out a breath. "In the shadow my father has cast over my entire life, you are the only light I can see anymore. And, whatever the cost, I refuse to let that light be extinguished.

Hatred is like fire. It burns the one who harnesses it. It's also extremely hard to see more helpful truths through its flames.

Her cerulean eyes widened. "You dream about me?" His gaze snapped back to hers. "Nightmares only

It was desperate, this kiss. Violent, even. But of course it was. It had been building up between them for such a long time, as the battle about this boy who had destroyed her life had raged inside her. This boy who had saved her life, who was cruel and kind, strong and weak. Who was selfish and selfless all at once.

Fear and intimidation are tactics that work very well on those who allow themselves to be afraid and intimidated.

This was the boy who now kissed her without reservation, as if he were dying and she was air itself.

Some sought revenge against their mortal enemies with the edge of a sword. Her plan for vengeance began with the edge of a smile.

And those with dark pasts didn't always yearn for dark futures.

You seem rather obsessed with Magnus. Perhaps next time I should try to arrange a meeting between the two of you instead.

That is your greatest mistake. The love you felt for him wasn’t love at all—it was obsession. Real love means sacrifice, not selfishness.

But one thought was crystal clear. This princess, who looked at him tonight with hope rather than hate shining in her eyes . . . if he let her, she could destroy him.

There are no guarantees in this life, only strong possibilities. That's enough for me.

there was only one person who could change your destiny, and that was yourself.

You don’t cry when someone pushes you down. You get up. You get up and you fight back. And pretty soon nobody’s going to shove you anymore because they’ll see it’s not worth it. You won’t let anyone push you around and make you cry.

Blood is life. Blood is magic.

Hatred is like fire. It burns the one who harnesses it. It’s also extremely hard to see more helpful truths through its flames.

But minding one's own business wasn't very interesting. Or useful.

Magnus had come to a horrible realization. One he knew would cause him nothing but pain and suffering from that day forward. But there was no changing the truth of it. He had fallen in love with her

She passed close enough to Magnus that, for a moment, Cleo thought he might reach out and snap her neck, but he didn’t. That, Cleo felt, was unfortunate.

Felix shrugged. “To me, girls are meant to be pretty companions, not rebel comrades. They’re good for washing our clothes and preparing meals after a long day.” He flashed Jonas a grin. “And, of course, they’re excellent for warming beds.” Jonas eyed him with an edge of amusement. “You might want to keep that opinion to yourself when you meet Lysandra.” “She’s not pretty?” “Oh, she is. Extremely pretty, in fact. But she’ll hand your arse to you on a rusty platter if you ever ask her to cook your meals or wash your clothes. And especially if you invite her to warm your bed.” “If she’s as pretty as you say I might try to change her mind.” Jonas’s grin widened. “Good luck with that. I’ll be sure to bring flowers to your grave.” Felix

He drank straight from the bottle now, ignoring his goblet. How stupid that his father had forbidden such pleasures in Limeros all those years, citing religious reasons. Valoria had taught that to keep a clear mind was to keep a pure heart, and her people had obeyed. Magnus had always subscribed to this credo, believing that he truly preferred a clear mind to this . . . this . . . Yes. This was better. Drunk was much better than sober. He

are no guarantees in this life, only strong possibilities. That’s enough for me.

He was dangerous—she felt it down in her very soul. The price of this young man’s freedom would be forged from pain, death, and fire. “Yes,” she said. The single word sealed her fate. Standing there on the steep Limerian cliffs, she was ready to watch the world burn.

Lucia couldn’t deny it. Cleo was getting to her, breaking through that dark wall that surrounded her. Believe in magic. Believe in the impossible. Believe, tentatively, in this fragile new friendship with Cleo. And believe that one day she’d see Alexius again.

Despite Danaus’s ancient age and vast wealth of knowledge, he really was deeply stupid.

That boy—he pushed me. He’s so mean!” “And you’re surprised? He’s mean to everyone who lets him. C’mon, little Lys. I thought you were better than this.” His words surprised her. “Better?” “Maybe you are a crybaby.” “I am not!” He shoved her until she staggered back and dropped into the puddle again. She stared up at him with shock. “You’re going to let me do that?” he demanded. “Wh-what?” “Get up!” Shock gave way to anger as she got to her feet. She glared at him, her small fists clenched at her sides, her tears forgotten. “That’s better,” he said. “You don’t cry when someone pushes you down. You get up. You get up and you fight back. And pretty soon nobody’s going to shove you anymore because they’ll see it’s not worth it. You won’t let anyone push you around and make you cry. Got it?” At the time, Lysandra didn’t understand what he’d been trying to teach her. All she knew was that her skirts were muddy and her mother would be angry that she’d spent so long gathering nothing but dirt. Get up. Again and again. There are those who would push you down into the mud and laugh at you. They wanted to see tears. They wanted to see defeat because it made them feel better about their own sad little lives. But sometimes it was hard to rise back up. Sometimes the mud grew so solid and so thick around you that there was no escape. And the taunting laughter never stopped. Suddenly,

The Beast. The name of the tavern was humorous to start with, but after Magnus had finished his second bottle of wine, he found it downright hilarious. “Another bottle,” he barked. “Now.” The server placed a third bottle of Paelsian wine in front of him. “Silas Agallon Vineyards,” Magnus read aloud from the etching on the green glass bottle. He was drinking wine made by Jonas Agallon’s family. Even more hilarity. Despite