( & ) love their leashes, and slipping the collar was harder than it looked.
“most of the books will have been destroyed.” zoya admitted, gesturing for him to follow her away from the palace.
⠀⠀ “i’ve only found one so far that talks about this.”
zoya imagined asking david to forget everything, was like asking him to stop breathing.
she always thought he would make a good fighter if he just stopped focusing on how it was supposed to be done and did it.
still, she asked it of him, because she wouldn’t let ( & )
david felt a fear so sudden and gripping that he could have been standing on the lawn of the little palace , watching 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘷𝘰’𝘺𝘢 bear down upon him .
he remembered when the darkling had first approached him . it had been almost a week after baghra had dismissed him >
( & ) discovering any sort of power.
if genya willed it, she could become the most powerful grisha the world had ever seen it through sheer determination.
it was people like david who needed the help. just as she had needed it with juris.
they had learned to ( & )
( & ) lips pursing in thought.
⠀⠀ “i could blow a strong wind through tomorrow’s worship so we all see if he’s wearing any underwear beneath that robe.”
it would always come back to alina. once, that thought had filled zoya with a white-hot rage.
she had fought her way to the top, crawled there with nothing but the wind on her side.
alina had shown up, sunlight in her veins and taken everything. ( & )
( & ) everything from her. it was cruel, and zoya bit down a little guilt every time she thought it, but she was glad alina knew how it felt for power to mean nothing.
“i’d like to set him on fire, but i don’t think we’d get away with that.”
zoya waved her hand, ( & )
( & ) too closely.
her fear was her own. it was not to be displayed in the sharp blue of her gaze like an artefact in a museum.
⠀⠀ “the king asks a lot of you.”
zoya was a pretender. she knew that well enough. she had been born with nothing other than her pretty face. a dirty glass did not bother her, nor the damp smell of a ship and the roughened whiskey.
she preferred comfort, for silk would always feel softer than low ( & )
𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒊𝒌𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒊. it always sounded better coming from her for some reason, like he might have earned it through anything but a lottery of birth.
he raised an eyebrow along with his glass.
" to king nikolai, " he says, keeping an appropriate amount of restrained >
( & ) that it’s a lost cause.”
zoya couldn’t believe that. she wouldn’t let ravka and her grisha turn to dust.
“if that’s the case, then your allegiance with could be costly later.” her eyes were narrowed, shattered glass piercing anyone who dared to look ( & )
⠀⠀
the small sciences contained everything a grisha might be. a squaller was not supposed to be able to summon lightening or fly. a grisha was not supposed to be able to summon without their hands.
zoya found the small sciences useful in defining what she was supposed ( & )
watching zoya take control of a situation was an artform. her dark eyes shone, and her hair rippled. he knew her speciality was as a squaller but she was elemental in almost all ways, not limited to wind. a force of the nature she wielded.
he gave a look of mild wounding at >
( & ) zoya did not sit when she entered. instead, surveyed the premises.
it looked just like every other cabin. biting down a strange disappointment, zoya took one of the glasses he held out.
“you should fire your cleaner.” her eyes dropped to a smudge on his glass. ( & )