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Back The Ones We Burn Save as PDF
Chapters (93)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Part One: Skra: Sixty Days Remain
  5. PART ONE SKRA SIXTY DAYS REMAIN
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4 Two weeks later
  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. Part Two: Monster: Twenty-Five Days Remain
  25. PART TWO MONSTER TWENTY-FIVE DAYS REMAIN
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. Part Three: Butcher: Six Days Remain
  40. PART THREE BUTCHER SIX DAYS REMAIN
  41. 32
  42. 33
  43. 34
  44. 35
  45. 36
  46. 37
  47. 38
  48. 39
  49. 40
  50. 41
  51. 42
  52. 43
  53. 44
  54. 45
  55. 46
  56. 47
  57. 48
  58. 49
  59. 50
  60. 51
  61. 52
  62. 53
  63. Part Four: Bloodwinn: Coup Successful
  64. PART FOUR BLOODWINN COUP SUCCESSFUL
  65. 54
  66. 55
  67. 56
  68. 57
  69. 58
  70. 59
  71. 60
  72. 61
  73. 62
  74. 63
  75. 64
  76. 65
  77. 66
  78. 67
  79. 68
  80. 69
  81. 70
  82. 71
  83. 72
  84. 73
  85. 74
  86. 75
  87. 76
  88. 77
  89. 78
  90. 79
  91. 80 EPILOGUE Three months later
  92. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  93. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

There was a chance—a slim one—that Ranka could beat Ongrum. She didn’t have to kill her. She only needed to distract and subdue her long enough for Galen to get away. Once he was safe, nothing else mattered.

“It’s Volst,” Ranka said suddenly.

Aramis turned to her. “I’m sorry?”

“You asked me once, about my name. My real name, before the Skra took me in.” Ranka closed her eyes and leaned back in the dark. “It’s Volst. Ranka Volst.”

She had never told anyone. It didn’t feel like a thing that ought to matter. That name, this old piece of her, an echo of a little girl born to a village that no longer was. She’d told herself Ranka Volst had died in Belren, but it felt like it mattered now, that someone knew who she’d been.

Felt like it mattered even more that that someone was Aramis.

Aramis didn’t say anything. Just nodded. Her lips formed the name, as if testing it out, rolling it over her tongue, this new piece of the girl who’d betrayed her.

Ranka leaned her back against the wall and closed her eyes. She would move, soon. It was improper for her to sit up here. But she would take just a moment to rest, in this fragile calm.

“Maybe we’ll win,” Aramis breathed finally. “And maybe… I don’t know, Ranka. I need… I don’t know.” Her voice quivered. “Maybe we’ll get a second chance to start over, without some plague, a war, or meddling covens.”

Pain blossomed in Ranka’s heart. This was as close as Aramis would come to admitting that some of Ranka’s feelings were returned. That she regretted what had happened. That she, too, wished they could return to the girls who’d danced in that ballroom without a care, dreaming of a cabin they’d never build, in a life they’d never have.

Ranka remained on the bed, painfully aware of every inch between them. She needed to get up soon. But she was so tired.

“Maybe we will, Princess,” Ranka whispered. “Maybe we will.”

66

SUNLIGHT WOKE HER.

Golden rays lanced across Ranka’s skin. Someone warm nestled against her, legs tangled with hers, arm draped over her hip. Touch had always been what made Ranka feel loved. She’d forgotten how badly she’d starved for it. Ranka rolled over, still half-asleep, and the person stirred. Brown eyes fluttered open, only a few inches from Ranka’s own.

For a lovely, muddled moment, caught between the realm of sleep and waking, Ranka had no idea who this girl was, but Goddess above, she was gorgeous.

Reality returned.

She was in Seaswept. This girl was the princess of Isodal.

And they were hardly on cuddling terms.