Heart of Night (WINGS OF INK #2) by Angelina J. Steffort EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Angelina J. Steffort
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 4.9 MB
- Price: Free
Ayna
Lentil soup is something I’ll never get used to. I hated it back in
prison, and I’m certainly hating it now when it comes with a side of
gloating evil.
It’s been three days since I woke in this suffocating space of russet,
cream, and too many ornamentations, and my body still doesn’t feel right.
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Where strength and determination once were moving my limbs and my
magic, shaky weakness is all that’s left. The constant nausea hasn’t ebbed
either. Quite the opposite—whenever I think of what happened in the
Seeing Forest, it’s like I’m spiraling into a nightmare because, when I come
back to reality, I’m in this luxurious room where my wounds don’t hurt and
the air tastes of lilies so much it turns my stomach with every breath.
Whereas, in my nightmares, I see endless oceans of fire consuming
everything and everyone I love. I see them die one by one.
I’m not surprised to watch my father and the pirate captain I once loved
go up in flames; the guilt for their deaths has been hovering over me for too
long. What’s new is the handsome pale face of the Crow King, motionless
like a marble statue before me as I cry tears of despair and fury.
Those tears can never escape when Ephegos is in the room with me,
though, for he can never know how close to breaking I am.
As if summoning his attention with my thoughts, the traitor Crow
glances up from the piece of parchment he’s reading, training his malicious
focus on me with all the ice I’d never believed could show in such warm
brown eyes. Although I’ve been here for a few days, it still comes as a
surprise how someone whom I once called friend can have betrayed us so
deeply. It’s a wound entirely different from my splintered heart where
Myron’s death has left an irreparable mark.
I’ll never be the same, and both Ephegos and I know it. Ever since I
woke in the mockery of comfort that is this room, I’ve been holding on by a
thread—and that is without the pain in my limbs and spine where the traces
of battle are still showing.
Myron might have healed the stab wound in my side, but he didn’t have
enough energy left to heal me completely before he exhaled his last breath
and left me behind in this world where nothing but pain and heartache is
waiting for me. And fury. Endless fury at the thought of what Myron did.
He fucking sacrificed himself for me.
Biting back the tears building behind my eyes, I take another spoonful
of lentil soup and focus on the blandness of the taste. It’s all I can do not to
scream my rage at the Guardians. It should have been me, not him. He
should have lived to see the curse broken, and I should have died for my
own blindness, for my failure to understand sooner that only love could
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