I expected smut and instead got 100% delivery on the plot. The first kiss wasn't till 94% through the book, and that's good enough to make my favourite smut shelf. The only nitpick was the title of Shadow Bringer (like, really? his real name was so cool). Also, the below isn't even half of the highlights I saved. I don't think I've had this many in a WHILE. The plot twist at the end KILLED ME, so I need to read book 2, eventually.
Favourite quotes:
- Monsters belonged to the dark— And it made him angry.
- The dark could be beautiful, but it mostly felt painful. It might graze his skin like a brush of moonlight, but it could just as easily twist itself into something evil and foul. Darkness was more frequently a cloak of sin, a scream in the night, or a pair of eyes unseen. It could be lonely, too. Achingly, despairingly lonely.
- Should I adjust your fate since mine is already lost?
- Why did he let that one go? Why did he no longer care? He couldn’t remember.
- Rain began to fall. My brother began to cry. And Eden was lowered to the earth in her box of splintered wood.
- Darkness roamed across my skin, fine as a shroud of silk. It slipped into my eyes and wrapped its inky hands around my neck. Tonight it felt relentless. Needy. Hungry.
- I should be terrified, but some dark, terrible part of me wanted to be found
- It bothered me, sometimes, how the most trivial objects could last for decades while the people who owned them never had the luxury. They grew sick, frail, and old, all while the object remained perpetually itself. Broken and faded, maybe, but never dead or dying.
- Mother gave each of us a fierce look. “Be unafraid," she said, setting the candlestick down and gripping the latch. “We cannot afford otherwise.”
- As the wake he left ruffled my dress, every sensation sharpened. I could feel the prickliness of the grass beneath my feet, the cool spot of mud pressing into my heel, and the edge of a stone touching my toe. Small, life-like sensations. Memories.
- “Age does not beget maturity.”
Other worthy quotes:
- Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air; Morn came and went— and came, and brought no day, And men forgot their passions in the dread Of this their desolation; and all hearts Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light. - Darkness, Lord Byron
Funny moments:
- I’m beginning to think I didn’t scare you enough the first time.
- The ground suddenly cleaved apart at his feet, sending him sprawling face-first into the grass. Did I do that?
- The boat rocked to the left, almost sending me careening into the Bringer’s shoulder. I tried to counteract the next motion—which would surely be a dip to the right—but I guessed wrong. My hip slid awkwardly against the silk, sending me off the seat and onto the floor. Reflexively, I grabbed onto something to steady myself. Unfortunately, that something was the Shadow Bringer’s thigh.
- The brother glared at her, more than ready to participate in a battle with his sister. “You think everything is boring. I should throw you over the bridge. Then you wouldn’t have to suffer the intolerable dullness any longer.”
- “I am not dancing.” He added quickly, “I don’t dance.”“Your past self would disagree. I was just dancing with him, actually.” The Bringer tilted his head, considering. “Were you, now? You should know I only learned to dance so I could appease the Weavers who hold these cursed parties.”“So what you’re saying is that you are indeed very capable of dancing.” He grabbed my hands and pulled me to him. “Only this once,” he warned. “Just to stop your pestering.”
- He thrashed against the shadows, but they held firm. “Don’t make me drag you downstairs. It’s a long way down.” He laughed then, the sound deliciously rich and mirthful. It made my face burn; the shadows slid from his shoulders, falling lazily to his feet. “I’d like to see you try.”
Closest things to smut moments:
- I threw back the covers, mortified that part of me still wanted to curl up in his blankets, breathe deep the scent of night and rain on his pillows, and sleep.
- “You—here.” He swept a finger underneath my lip, brushing off a stray droplet. “As I said before, imagination reigns supreme in the Realm.” He examined his thumb, now slightly damp, then licked it. “Experiences feel real here. Sometimes more so than they do in reality.”
- Erebus’s silver eyes meandered along the lines of my body, much like a man might look at his lover, but there was no warmth in his gaze. His unmasked eyes were sharp and guarded as they beheld the folds of my grey dress. The way my curls fell over my shoulders. The jewelry at my throat.
- His wings were velvet-black and glossy; they stretched behind him, complimenting his form and making him appear taller and more intimidating than he already was. It made me regret thinking that wings looked natural on the other dreamers. How they looked on the dreamers was nothing compared to how they looked on the Shadow Bringer. His were menacing and tempting. I wanted to touch them. Strange. The Bringer took in my dress. I could have sworn his masked gaze lingered there—in the shape of it. In the folds, the fabric. Of my wings, soft and grey. And lastly, my eyes. His mouth slackened. I wasn’t sure he even noticed. “You look to be in your element,” I managed, heat rising to my temples. I had meant to tell him about Erebus, but the thought had promptly drifted away. “Your wings suit you.”“I could say the same for yours.” It seemed like he wanted to say more, but he shut his mouth before he could. His skin betrayed him, though; a flush was definitely at his temples, too. The music soared. We were the only two not dancing. “Where did you go?” I finally asked. I was looking for you. I missed having you by my side. “I didn’t intend to leave you for so long.”
- And before the first song ended, he was already flushed and smirking. And so was I. “How can you do that without flinching?” he asked, guiding us to a more secluded part of the clouds. Toward the pillars and the stars. “Do what?”“Touch me,” he answered, bringing his gauntleted hand to the back of my neck. "Like this.” Like—oh. My left hand was perched in his shoulder, absently threading through his hair. “My fear of you must have been overcome by your impressive dancing skills.”“Hmm,” he murmured, bringing his hand back to my waist. “It’s nothing, really,” I insisted. “Your hair looked soft, is all.” The fingers around my waist tightened, metal talons digging into the bindings. Oh? So this isn’t anything either, then? It seemed to suggest. But he pushed too hard, talons pinching my side, and I flinched. The Bringer made to pull away from me, taking his hand from my waist. “I have nothing against your hands,” I said, making a point to squeeze the taloned hand that held my right. “But right now they are encased in knives.” He cast a fleeting glance downwards, apparently startled by the realization that his hands were indeed encased in metal.
- I brought my hand over his, guiding it from my lips to my neck. With his hand moved aside, I leaned in closer, bridging the gap between us, and softly placed a kiss on his jaw, right near his ear. “I could say the same, Shadow Bringer. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever known.” His breath hitched as he pulled me closer, titling his face so that his mouth hovered over mine. In that suspended moment, uncertainty flickered in his eyes, as if questioning whether I truly wanted this. Needing to erase his doubts, I cradled his face in my hands, fingertips tracing the contours of his face left exposed by his mask. I could feel the tremor in his touch, but I also felt his longing—his desire to bridge the distance between us. But instead of my mouth, his lips unexpectedly found my neck. I gasped, arching into him and giving more access to the skin there. The skin that was absolutely and unequivocally burning. He yanked his mask off, sighing when he was able to reach more of my neck without it, then dragged his teeth down the column of my throat. Teeth that I had once imagined would tear through my bones and devour my soul. Time had stopped. The darkness was full—and something was terribly wrong. “Esmer. I remember,” he said, his voice suddenly cracking in horror.
- (finally a kiss scene fml) He laughed. “Then that makes you a fool. A complete and utter fool. You do not want this. This is nothing you—” I grabbed his face and pulled it to mine, kissing him full on his mocking, irritatingly beautiful mouth. He pushed away, eyes wide. Shadows still, for once. Weighing. Measuring. Then he crashed his lips back to mine. He kissed me wildly—darkly. Exactly how I imagined he would prefer it. His lips were cool to the touch, tasting of starlight and velvet shadows. Of a cold breath of night air. I would drown in it, if I could, every bit as starved for him as he was for me. He curled one hand in my hair while the other was at my spine, drawing me closer.
- “And for you, it seems anything is possible.” Erebus didn’t hesitate after that. He brought his mouth to mine, twisting his fist in my hair and pulling me to him. Pressed against him this closely, and with nothing between us but the thin fabric of our robes, I could feel every smooth, hard plane of him. Every lean muscle. The power in his arms as he held me. The shifting of his thighs as he brought me closer still. We made it to the bed, somehow—he stumbled backwards, sitting on the edge, and I moved to his lap, all-too aware of how our robes had spilled open. His had slipped off a shoulder; mine had fallen open at the chest. He tugged my hair back, exposing my throat, and I felt teeth and shadow grazing my neck, tantalizingly slow, before he returned his attention to my mouth. An overwhelming urge burned inside me to do the same. To kiss him there, as he had done to me.
- “I’m thinking we should try the main entrance—” Shadows roped around my wrists, catching me off-balance and pulling me into a pile of velvet pillows. Erebus leaned over me, quickly replacing the shadows with his hands, and kissed me. There was no softness or patience in his kiss. It was all fire, teeth, and tongue—and the vague, aching sense that it might be our last. “Not yet,” he murmured, covering my body with his. My robe hitched up at the movement, and one of his thighs pressed between mine, pinning me in place. “I say we remain as we are.”
One of my fav scenes:
- At the first sip, it tasted wild. Fragrant rose, oak, and plum. It wasn’t wine, exactly, but it wasn’t juice, either. And the texture was exactly as I had imagined—softer than silk upon the tongue, it slid down my throat like a caress, tingling as it moved. The Bringer must have noticed the delight in my expression—or the rapidly dwindling liquid in my cup—because he snatched it from my fingertips, looking quite smug as he brought it to his lips. “Hey, I wasn’t—” The Bringer gave a throaty, contented sigh as he finished the drink, likely not intending for the sound to be heard. His eyes flicked up, a command plainly written there. For a moment, I wondered what it would be like to not taste food or drink for five-hundred years. Was it really possible to forget something as basic as taste? Based on the Bringer’s euphoric expression, it seemed so. “Fine, fine—I’ll fill it again. Just—stop staring at me like that. I have to concentrate.”