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Back Rule of Wolves
Chapters (60)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. THE GRISHA
  5. THE DEMON KING
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. THE MAKING AT THE HEART OF THE WORLD
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  57. Also by Leigh Bardugo
  58. Praise for the Grishaverse
  59. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  60. Newsletter Sign-up

“You are all of those things, but you are so much more, Zoya. Our people will come to love you not despite your ferocity, but because of it. Because you showed mercy in our darkest hour. Because we know that if danger comes again, you will never falter. Give us that chance.”

Love. The word was not made for people like her. “I don’t know how to believe you,” she said helplessly.

“What if I say I can’t bear to lose you?”

A smile tugged at her lips. “I’d say you’re a liar. That claims like that belong to romantic ninnies.” She raised her hand and let her fingertips trace the line of his beautiful jaw. He closed his eyes. “We would go on, you and I. If I couldn’t be queen, you would find a way to win this battle and save this country. You would make a sheltering place for my people. You would march and bleed and crack terrible jokes until you had done all you said you would do. I suppose that’s why I love you.”

His eyes flew open and his face lit in an extraordinary grin. “All Saints, say it again.”

“I will not.”

“You must.”

“I’m the queen. I must do nothing but please myself.”

“Would it please you to kiss me?”

It would. And she did, drawing him up to her, feeling the stubble at his jaw, the soft curl of his hair behind his ear, and at last, after all these long days of wanting, his witty, brilliant, perfect mouth. Silence fell around them and Zoya’s head emptied of fear and worry and anything but the warm press of his lips.

When the kiss broke, he rested his forehead against hers.

“You do realize you just referred to yourself as the queen. That means you agreed.”

“I am going to kill you.”

“So long as you kiss me again before you do.”

She obliged him.

47

NINA

NINA COULDN’T THINK STRAIGHT. Is this a game? Is he toying with me?

She was a tangle of anger and hope and confusion. Get your head together, Zenik, she chastised herself. If you ever needed to keep your wits about you, this is the time.

Easier said than done. She was fairly sure she’d just seen Nikolai Lantsov—or maybe not Lantsov, since he’d admitted to being a bastard—give up his crown to Zoya Nazyalensky. Who was also a dragon. And possibly a Saint. And Rasmus had called for a lasting truce and a treaty with Ravka. But why? Did he truly believe in peace? Was this all some elaborate ruse, some part of his feud with Jarl Brum?