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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

She sucked on her teeth, and he finally recognized the look behind her eyes. He’d seen it on more than one occasion, whether crossing blades or beating back talons. It had taken a while to place, given the distraction of her night-black hair, her painted mouth, her tanned, glowing skin and otherworldly beauty. The dress was simply the cherry on top, an invitation meant to bait her prey. She had the distinct look of someone who was going to kill him.

Thirty

Rage precluded her confusion as Amaris glared at the fae, blaming them wholly for this nightmare. Her world had fallen apart, and she was not to blame. She’d lived with her reevers for years and had never had to use her dark gift until these crows had flapped their stupid wings into her life.

“First you hold a knife to my throat, and now you—”

“Rescue you?” one finished, voice amused. The general, Amaris had learned, was a fae man called Gadriel. He raised a single, challenging brow. Though she hadn’t yet gathered enough information to be certain, she was already quite sure she hated him.

As Amaris eyed them, her understanding of why the southern kingdom had taken to calling his breed of fae dark fae solidified. She’d assumed it had been to call attention to powers that were more familiar with nightlife. The black, fallen-angel wings belonging to Gadriel and his companion, and the nocturnal eyes that allowed them to see in the dark were just the most apparent features that set them apart as residents of Raascot. Everything she knew to be true about them gave them a more ominous edge.

Northern fae, Gadriel had said, were no friends of what Amaris had referred to as demons—despite what primitive superstitions and prejudices spread about the northern kingdom. Raascot, he’d said, had as many common enemies in the vageth, the ag’drurath, and the beseuls as any other human or fae on the continent.

It had been a long while since Ash and Malik had departed. Zaccai got to work shoveling the monster’s disembodied head under the earth, as was tradition, while Amaris and Gadriel remained locked in a wordless stalemate. Eventually, the stench of the slain monster and black blood around them pushed them toward Cobb and where Amaris had initially made their camp for the night. Though she hated herself for it, Amaris was relieved her friends were gone upon her return. She didn’t have the energy to verbally battle with Ash or Malik right now. These were the answers she needed.

“Have you been following me?” Amaris asked.