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Audiobook
First published April 25, 2021
"Words I had dreaded using but feared were my only hope of avoiding the business end of that knife.
“I’m pregnant!” I croaked.
Radulf’s face twisted, his eyes widened, and for an instant, the blackness in them receded like ink—revealing two crisp, bright, blue eyes.
Cillian’s eyes."
HECK YEAH
"I shook my head. “You know, I have been called all kinds of crap since I got here, been told I’m tainting this place with my filthy blood, but then you go and bring Wenlow into your castle. Why is that okay? Why doesn’t anyone see just how screwed up that is?”
He gave me his eyes again. “I see it.”
It was my turn to frown. “I’m sorry, maybe I’m delirious from the pain. Did you just say you see it?”
“I do.”
Wait, is Radulf actually a puppet?
"The King stiffened in his seat, his face turning red. “You dare address me directly, mongrel?" he growled, his booming voice blasting over the Coliseum.
Call me whatever names you want, that still doesn’t change the fact that this trial is a boring waste of everyone’s time—and you’re the reason for that.”
“I am the King—”
“—which means it’s your fault this is all so boring.”
"... the Prince shot up from his seat, raced towards the edge of the balcony, and waved his hand.
In an instant, the collar around my neck snapped open and fell to the ground with a hard thud that cracked the ice. I took a deep breath, and this time, I was able to breathe all the way in. Whatever residual pain I had been feeling from a moment ago was starting to subside, and already I could feel my strength returning, my senses sharpening.
I stared at the Prince, wide eyed. The King turned to glare at his son. “What did you do?!” he bellowed.
“This is not a fair fight,” Radulf said, “I have made it fair.”
“I don’t care if it’s fair or not. I want this done.”
“And I want to be entertained.”
That’s it. He’s caught on."
Woah… wasn't expecting that.
"My eyes drooped, and when I opened them again, Cillian appeared as if from a mirage. He was standing nearby, wearing a white, ruffly shirt and black trousers. He had his hands in his pockets, though, and his beard… it wasn’t so much a beard, but stubble—and he didn’t have any blood on him. None of that makes sense.
He pulled one hand out of his pocket and lightly waved
"Cillian…?” I asked.
He shook his head, a smile resting on his face. “Be good, Dahlia,” he said, and then Cillian moved through the mirage, making it part like smoke. Cillian’s face was dark, and bloody, but there was a brilliance to his blue eyes, a vibrance, a vitality. He was… him, and not—
“—Radulf…”
Cillian shook his head. “No,” he said, “It’s me.”
“Your brother…” I said, “I just saw him. He looks like you…”
Awwww. I just love happy endings🥺
"If you are both quite done,” Mira said, her voice rising above ours. “I would very much like to know what name you have finally chosen for your child.”
Dahlia looked over at Mira, then turned her eyes up at Cillian. “It was easy, really,” she said.
Cillian nodded, a soft smile on his face. “Radulf,” he said.
“Radulf…” Mira repeated, then she nodded. “I’ll allow it.”
“You’ll allow it?” Dahlia asked.
"I will. It is a good name… I think you do him a great honor.”
“He saved my life. Our lives… wherever he is now, I hope he’s at rest.”
The Prince—well, no; the King—placed his hand on Dahlia’s shoulder and gently squeezed. “I’m sure he is."