Chapters (49)
- COVER
- DEDICATION
- MAP
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- DISCOVER MORE
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- PRAISE FOR
“You do not want this man to die,” she said, her voice ringing.
She knew what they did not. She had seen Asa’s face after he killed his own father. She’d seen the emptiness, the lack of remorse. She’d seen how good he was at using people.
“You think the Superior was bad?” she continued, her voice pulsing with conviction. “You think he was capricious and cruel? You have no idea. His son Asa killed him, his own father, in cold blood. Asa fooled me for weeks, let me think he wanted what we all want—freedom and choice for women in this country. He convinced me entirely, so much so that I helped him plot to replace his own brother as Heir. He convinced me that Malachi was as volatile and awful as their father. But Malachi is not. He is not his father.” The words filled her up, the fury spilled out. Nomi stood up and faced Serina. “You can’t let him die. He’s the only one who can stop Asa. And trust me, Serina, Asa must be stopped.”
Nomi’s heart beat so loudly she could hear it pulsing in her ears.
Serina glanced around at the women who encircled them. “Nomi…” she said, and Nomi could see as clearly as Serina the bloodlust in their eyes. These women had suffered. They wanted the Heir to suffer too.
Nomi reached for her sister’s hands. She didn’t understand what was going on here, why these women seemed to listen to her sister. But they were, to a one, waiting to hear what Serina said. “Malachi does not deserve to die,” Nomi said, more softly. “He’s in this position because of me. His blood is on my hands. I can’t let him die.”
Serina glanced down at Malachi’s still form for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was strong and the expression in her eyes was one Nomi had never seen before: hard and glittering, without a hint of serenity. “This is my sister, Nomi. She’s been living in the palazzo. If she says the Heir needs to live, then he lives.”
“What if she’s wrong? What if he’s as bad as the rest?” a girl with a swollen cheek asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Nomi opened her mouth to say he wasn’t, to tell them what he’d said to her at the ball. That he’d be willing to let her cease being a Grace if she chose.