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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

“Your life is never going to be the same—you understand that, don’t you? You are a blood-witch now, Ranka. You are the hope of every witch alive. You are the nightmare of the humans. You are a cause. And you are the most powerful weapon we’ve ever had.”

“I am not a weapon.” Tears welled in Ranka’s eyes. “I’m just a girl.”

“You are so much more now. You were sent to us by the Goddess herself, witchling. Let me train you. Let me hone the gift you’ve been given.” Ongrum caressed her cheek. “I cannot promise you love, nor safety. But I can promise you something better.”

Ranka looked up at her. “What?”

“Purpose.” Ongrum unbuckled the top half of her coat and drew out an ice axe. It was a slender, heavy tool, Kerth craft by the aged pine handle, made to slice through frozen underbrush and sleet-crusted snowbanks alike. But in Ranka’s hands, it would cut through bone. “The witch who trained me gave me this, when I was not much older than you.”

Ranka swayed. She had the sense that she was standing on the edge of a cliff, one foot still on solid ground, one dangling over endless, empty air. The thing inside her shivered. Maybe if she never fed it, it would wither and die, shriveling like a flower on an unwatered vine. Maybe Belren could be a fluke, an accident, a scar on her life that would cease to ache as she aged.

There was hunger in Ongrum’s eyes, but something else, too. Pride, maybe? Love? When was the last time someone had looked at Ranka like that? Like she was someone to be proud of—someone to be protected?

The coven stared at Ranka.

Ranka stared at the weapon. “You can make me strong?”

“Strong?” Ongrum’s voice was a thing of hunger and thorns. “Oh, witchling. I’ll make you a legend.”

Ranka took the axe, and she never let go.

12

RANKA’S EYES FLEW OPEN. SUNBEAMS filtered through open windows, heralding the cries of gulls, the roar of the sea, the low melody of distant prayer bells. Pain throbbed deep in her abdomen, but no hunger accompanied it. The dream hung all around her. She’d been such a fool then, hoping she might be better. Thinking Vivna might come back. She’d taken Yeva for granted, even at the beginning.

She knew better now. Dead or alive, Ranka would never see her sister again.

But Yeva was still out there. And Yeva needed her.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well? I certainly didn’t.”

Aramis Sunra leaned against the wall. Sunlight outlined her in gold, rendering her the very image of the goddess her people worshipped. Percy lounged at the threshold.