Shield of Sparrows

Only fools and liars burn books and people’s homes.

Forgive me, Highness, for not giving a fuck.

I love you.” “Yes, you do. Don’t forget.

To the characters who came before. To the stories that led us here. To the chances we take. To the dreams we chase. Trust your wings.

I didn’t ask to be married to a stranger and shipped across the continent. I didn’t ask to come to Turah. I didn’t ask to be jailed in a wilderness treehouse. Those were decisions made for me by the whims of men. So you can threaten to take away my freedom all you want, but I will fight you. Every step of the way. Until my last breath. And I will not go quietly into a cage.

The only person who was always going to fight for me was me.

Praise is for the bedroom, Cross. Not the training ring.

When I am nothing but dust and ash, Turah will endure. I do not need a crown. And I have made peace with my destiny. But before I step into my grave, my choice is you.

Hot tears dripped to the dirt at my boots. “I love you.” “Yes, you do. Don’t forget.” “Never.” “Neither will I.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I will find you. Here, or in the shades.

Tell me you want to leave, and I’ll take you back to Roslo myself.” He was giving me the choice. All I had to do was say yes. “No,” I whispered. His eyes drifted closed, his forehead dropping to mine. “Good. I have no desire to live in Quentis.” “Wh-what?” I leaned away. “You are mine.” His hands dove into my hair, fingers threading through my curls. “Even if we are kingdoms apart, you are mine. But I’d rather not be a kingdom apart.

What’s that word you like so much?” He tapped his chin, pretending to think it over. “No.

What if I jumped? Would anyone notice? No. Not for this princess. A smile tugged at my mouth. I raced for the cliff. My drab, gray dress streamed behind me as I ran, faster and faster, arms pumping, legs pushing. I didn’t think. I didn’t falter. One moment, my feet were tethered to the earth. The next, I was flying.

Gods save the men who make you mad.

If I truly wanted to be in control of my destiny, then I couldn’t wait for someone else to save me from danger. The only person who was always going to fight for me was me.

Worried about me, my queen?” I rolled my eyes. “Only that you’d die and I wouldn’t get to spit on your grave.

Who would I become if I wasn’t at the mercy of men?

You were suffocating in Quentis. You were fucking wasting away in that golden castle. I’m not trying to trap you here, Odessa. But I need you to live. I won’t…” He dragged a hand over his face. “I have never been more scared than when I saw you run for that boy.

There was a tether between us. Gods save us when it snapped. Why couldn’t I feel this way for the man who’d claimed me? Our mouths were too close. All it would take was a shift and we’d collide. We’d crash into each other, and the shock waves would destroy us both. I needed him to say something mean. To strike a nerve. To bruise my heart. I needed him to hurt me so thoroughly, I’d never forgive him. “I hate you.” It should have broken the moment. It should have pissed him off. But he stared at me like I was something to behold. Something to cherish. Something to protect. “Yes, you do,” he said. “Don’t forget.” “Never.

Where are you going?” Cathlin called. I kept walking. “To find my wife.

You are the crown prince. It was all a ruse.” “Not all of it.” His eyes darkened, shifting to that forest green as he took my arms, keeping me on my feet. Pulling me close and into his chest. “You have always been my queen.

If the last kiss had ignited the spark, this kiss set me aflame.

I will find you. Here, or in the shades.

It wasn’t that he’d chosen Jocelyn. It was that he hadn’t chosen me. Why was I never the first choice?

How much of an identity could one person lose before they were hollowed into a shell?

You are mine, Odessa.

If I just pushed him over the railing the next time he invaded my privacy, would he die? A girl could dream.

You don’t have to hide who you are, Cross. Not here.

Did he regret telling me his name? Well, too bad. I liked saying it.

I’ve never met a woman who asked so many questions.

I don’t like holding hands.” “How do you know? You’ve never held mine.