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Marit Hollander
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“Here is what they don’t tell you:
Icarus laughed as he fell.
Threw his head back and
yelled into the winds,
arms spread wide,
teeth bared to the world.
(There is a bitter triumph
in crashing when you should be
soaring.)
The wax scorched his skin,
ran blazing trails down his back,
his thighs, his ankles, his feet.
Feathers floated like prayers
past his fingers,
close enough to snatch back.
Death breathed burning kisses
against his shoulders,
where the wings joined the harness.
The sun painted everything
in shades of gold.
(There is a certain beauty
in setting the world on fire
and watching from the centre
of the flames.)”
―
Icarus laughed as he fell.
Threw his head back and
yelled into the winds,
arms spread wide,
teeth bared to the world.
(There is a bitter triumph
in crashing when you should be
soaring.)
The wax scorched his skin,
ran blazing trails down his back,
his thighs, his ankles, his feet.
Feathers floated like prayers
past his fingers,
close enough to snatch back.
Death breathed burning kisses
against his shoulders,
where the wings joined the harness.
The sun painted everything
in shades of gold.
(There is a certain beauty
in setting the world on fire
and watching from the centre
of the flames.)”
―
“You want to know something true? Something real? I love you. I’m in love with you. I have been since the night the snow fell in your hair and you kissed me for the first time. I’m grateful my life is tied to yours because it means I won’t have to face a day without you in it. My heart only beats as long as yours does, and when you die, I’ll meet Malek at your side. It’s a damned good thing that you love me, too, because you’re stuck with me in this life and every other that could possibly follow.” My lips part. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, ever needed to hear. “I do love you,” I admit in a whisper.”
― Iron Flame
― Iron Flame
“If you didn't figure it out, you weren't worthy of knowing." She huffs. "I waited six hundred and fifty years to hatch. Waited until your eighteenth summer, when I heard our elders talk of a weakling daughter of their general, the girl forecasted to become the head of the scribes, and I knew. You would have the mind of a scribe and the heart of a rider. You would be mine." She leans into my hand. "You are as unique as I am. We want the same things."
"You couldn't have known I would be a rider."
"And yet, here we are."
A thousand questions go through my head, none of which we have the time for, so I give her exactly what I wanted–to be seen for who and what she is.
"You are not a black dragon, or any of the six that we know of. You're a seventh breed."
"Yes." Her eyes widen in excitement.”
― Iron Flame
"You couldn't have known I would be a rider."
"And yet, here we are."
A thousand questions go through my head, none of which we have the time for, so I give her exactly what I wanted–to be seen for who and what she is.
"You are not a black dragon, or any of the six that we know of. You're a seventh breed."
"Yes." Her eyes widen in excitement.”
― Iron Flame
“I can handle pain.” I turn toward her. “I live in pain. I practically built a house there and set up a whole economy. I can take whatever they dish out.”
― Iron Flame
― Iron Flame
“Scratch her eyes out,” Andarna suggests. “Really. The eyes are the softest tissue. Just jab your thumbs in there—”
“Andarna! Use some common sense,” Tairn snaps. “The kneecaps are a much easier target.”
― Iron Flame
“Andarna! Use some common sense,” Tairn snaps. “The kneecaps are a much easier target.”
― Iron Flame
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