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Chapters (64)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Contents
  6. Pronunciation Guide
  7. Prologue
  8. Part One
  9. One
  10. Two
  11. Three
  12. Four
  13. Five
  14. Six
  15. Seven
  16. Eight
  17. Nine
  18. Ten
  19. Eleven
  20. Twelve
  21. Thirteen
  22. Part Two
  23. Fourteen
  24. Fifteen
  25. Sixteen
  26. Seventeen
  27. Eighteen
  28. Nineteen
  29. Twenty
  30. Twenty-One
  31. Twenty-Two
  32. Twenty-Three
  33. Part Three
  34. Twenty-Four
  35. Twenty-Five
  36. Twenty-Six
  37. Twenty-Seven
  38. Twenty-Eight
  39. Twenty-Nine
  40. Thirty
  41. Thirty-One
  42. Thirty-Two
  43. Thirty-Three
  44. Thirty-Four
  45. Thirty-Five
  46. Part Four
  47. Thirty-Six
  48. Thirty-Seven
  49. Thirty-Eight
  50. Thirty-Nine
  51. Forty
  52. Forty-One
  53. Forty-Two
  54. Forty-Three
  55. Forty-Four
  56. Forty-Five
  57. Forty-Six
  58. Forty-Seven
  59. Epilogue
  60. Excerpt from The Sun and Its Shade
  61. The Night and Its Moon Playlist
  62. Acknowledgments
  63. About the Author
  64. Back Cover

Samael was the first to offer his hand, their blood exchanged in a solemn grasp. Odrin took her hand in a shake but clapped her opposite shoulder with pride, a smile on his face as she completed her ritual. The blood of every reever would pump through their veins, uniting them as brothers, sharing blood with the first true family she’d ever known. The process repeated with shakes, smiles, clasps, a wink from Ash, and a hug from Malik until she stood before them, pride, valor, and the unmistakable scarlet smear of blood radiating from the legacy that pumped through her veins as the thirteenth reever.

* * *

Ash leaned his body weight to the side, drinking deeply from a waterskin while Malik and Amaris sparred in the ring. She occasionally heard him shouting encouragements to her over the reverberating clang of metal. They were long past dulled, wooden swords. The summer heat had them dressing lighter with every passing day, freeing their movements and enabling the reevers to navigate training in barely more than a tunic and pants.

“It’s always your feet! Watch your feet, Ayla!”

“Shut it!” she chirped back without looking at him. “I know what I’m doing.”

She caught the redhead from the corner of her eye, but her gaze stayed fixed on the exercise at hand. Malik was nearly a foot taller and markedly stronger, but Amaris knew she was only a few moves away from having him on his ass. A drenching of sweat caused his shirt to cling to his hardened body, betraying his exertion as he brought his sword up once more.

The other reevers finished up their morning routines and joined Ash, watching as Malik and Amaris exchanged blades. Amaris smirked as she watched a large bead of sweat trickle down Malik’s brow. His features were normally relaxed in a smile, but his face was trained in concentration. His golden hair had been tied back in a knot, though a few stray curls had unraveled themselves as he moved. He lunged and she successfully blocked his blow and retreated, sword in the defensive position.

While both heaved from the effort of sparring, it was clear that Malik’s stamina was waning. The hot pulse in her face as her body flushed suggested to her that she looked every bit as fatigued, but she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her waver. She wet her lips, tasting the salt and heat and dust of the ring and the fight.

“When did you get this good?”

“I think you’re just getting old.” She winked.