The Ashes & the Star-Cursed King

I’d spend a lifetime at the tip of your blade, and it would have been worth it.

You have nothing but me", I said. "And yet, you'd let me go?" "I have nothing but you,' he murmured. "So I am letting you go.

Let me make you the queen that you are. Let me guard your body, your soul, your heart. Let me spend the rest of my fucking pathetic life at your mercy. If I need to die, then let me do it by your hand. Please.

She looked at him like he was the sun. And he looked at her like she was the moon.

Humans mourn time, because it’s the only currency that really matters in a life so short.

He didn’t want me to jump because he didn’t want me to find out I could catch myself.

I like a little fight,” he murmured. “Besides, she’s ruined me for all others. My own fucking fault, though. I knew it from the beginning.

To die, rather than killing you?” he said quietly. “Yes. That would have been worth it. Even I had to draw a line somewhere. And you’re the line, Oraya.

Your soul is my soul. Your blood is my blood. Your heart is my heart.

In a dark world, eyes naturally find the light. She becomes the brightest thing in his.

Don’t you dare stop fighting, princess. It would break my damned heart.

Maybe the king always knew that his greatest love would be his ruination. Maybe he knew it the moment he met her. He’d know it the second time he died, too.

I’m already more afraid than I ever have been. Afraid of you and what you could do to me. Afraid of the world that could kill you so easily. Afraid of myself, gifted with another fragile heart that I know I cannot keep. But, my little serpent, it is the most wonderful fear. Every minute with you is, even if I already regret all the mistakes I know I will make.

I hate you because I don’t.

Oraya didn’t need to be saved. She just needed a soul beside her on the dark walk to her own potential.

He’d raised me to look at the bars of my cage and call them trees.

Love is fucking terrifying,” he murmured. “I think that’s true no matter who you are.

I liked anger. It was tangible, and strong, and it made me feel powerful.

The dress is an act of war. But you’ve always looked fucking fantastic in blood.

Maybe I just imagined that the entire world stopped when my wife walked into the ballroom.

We’ll rip apart the worlds that subjugated both of us, and from the ashes we’ll build something new.

I am the Nightborn King,” I said, voice low and deadly. “Do you think I’m going to beg for your respect? I don’t need your respect. Your fear will do. Bow.

To give someone that much of yourself. To give someone the power to destroy you.

Yours,” I ground out. “It’s yours.” My blood. My body. My soul. I had given her all of that a long time ago. I even had given her my life. And I’d do it all again.

He kissed me like he was starving. Kissed me the way he had fed from me in a cave once, many months ago—desperate and deep and full of hunger, like I was the only thing tethering him to the world. And Mother, I felt that way, too, like I was grasping hold of something solid for the first time in so long. Like I had come home.

My downfall and my most valuable supporter. My weakness and my strength. My worst enemy and the greatest love I had ever known.

I was everything I was meant to be. My father’s daughter. Victim and protégée. Greatest love and ruination.

I wasn’t going to let you fall. But more importantly, I knew you weren’t going to let you fall.