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We Free the Stars (Sands of Arawiya, #2) by
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Marsha
is on page 410 of 592
His eyes fell to the little bedside table, and her own gaze followed, pulse quickening. On it, beside a tin of wrapped malban, was the Jawarat. The sight of it brought on a wave of guilt, strangely detached and not entirely hers--as if it belonged to the Jawarat. What reason would the book have to feel guilty? She had done what it wanted. It had fulfilled its chaotic desires.
If anything, it should be gleeful.
— 11 hours, 23 min ago
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If anything, it should be gleeful.
Marsha
is on page 325 of 592
"Please," he whispered and begged. His compass. His queen. His life. "Don't go."
But death listened to one, not even the Amir al-Maut. And Nasir watched as her butterfly wings fluttered once, and Zafira Iskandar fell to the ground, a silver star driving the light from his world.
His yesterdays and his tomorrows, gone just like that.
— Feb 13, 2026 12:05PM
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But death listened to one, not even the Amir al-Maut. And Nasir watched as her butterfly wings fluttered once, and Zafira Iskandar fell to the ground, a silver star driving the light from his world.
His yesterdays and his tomorrows, gone just like that.
