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Back The Infinity Courts Save as PDF
Chapters (52)
  1. Dedication
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  52. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I’m not a leader here. I’m small and out of place and I don’t know what I could ever do to help the Colony take back all that they’ve lost. I’m out of my depth. It feels like I’m being swallowed up by an ocean, unable to swim.

The rebellions I knew were always just stories. Something I imagined—not something I imagined I’d be part of. And the Colony wants to make Infinity safe for humans—for people like Mei. I should want to help them. But how can I, when I can’t even help myself?

If I were Naoko, things would be different. I’d be confident and sure of myself. I’d trust my heart more than any cause. I wouldn’t just care about winning the war—I’d care about making the world better.

If I were Naoko…

I catch a glimpse of pale pink hair, and when I look across the stretch of market, I spot Shura in the distance. Her eyes are frozen, and her mouth is parted wide, like whatever she’s seeing has shattered her concentration.

She looks horrified.

It sinks in very quickly that she’s looking at me and that I have no idea how long I’ve been standing here, putting myself in harm’s way.

I want to run toward her—to get away from this awful place—but something in the carriage stops me.

Or rather, someone.

His eyes are a brilliant silver, his manicured hair the purest white I’ve ever seen. And his skin, a shade darker than mine, is radiant.

When he shifts, the white furs wrapped around his neck and torso ripple like snow tumbling down a mountain. He closes his hand against the carriage door, pushing it open in one fluid motion, and he floats down from the step like an ethereal being.

And then he’s in front of me, the silver gleam of chains woven through his furred cape catching the light. Absorbing it. His right cheek dimples despite the hard edges of his face, and when he speaks, I can’t hear him at all.

Because I’m too busy staring in horror at the crown of silver branches sitting on top of his head.

A crown. A carriage. And the face of someone immortal.

Shura is right to look terrified.

I’m in the presence of a prince.

13

MY MIND SCREAMS TO RUN. But I’m surrounded by Residents, trapped within the walls of the market, and the Prince of Victory is three feet in front of me.

There’s no point in running—I can’t escape this.

Fear courses through my body, like a turbulent surge of fire in my bloodstream. Every nerve buzzes with static, and the will to move my feet is staggering.