The Ashes and the Star-Cursed King (CROWNS OF NYAXIA #2) by Carissa Broadbent EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Language: English
- Genre: Dark Fantasy
- Format: PDF/ EPUB
- Size: 5 MB
- Price: Free
ORAYA
My father lived in the hazy moments before I opened my eyes every
day, caught between waking and dreaming.
I treasured those moments, when my nightmares had faded but
they’d yet to be replaced with the grim shadow of reality. I would roll over
in silk sheets and draw in a deep inhale of that familiar scent—rose and
incense and stone and dust. I was in the bed I had slept in every day for
fifteen years, in the room that had always been mine, in the castle I had
been raised in, and my father, Vincent, the King of the Nightborn, was
alive.
And then I would open my eyes, and the inevitable cruel clarity of
consciousness would roll over me, and my father would die all over again.
Those seconds between sleep and waking were the best of the day.
The moment when the memory returned to me was the worst.
Still, it was worth it. I slept whenever I could, just to claw those
precious seconds back. But you can’t stop time. Can’t stop death.
I tried not to notice that those seconds grew fewer each time I woke.
This morning, I opened my eyes, and my father was still dead.
BANG BANG BANG.
Whoever was knocking on the door did so with the impatience of
someone who had been at it for longer than they’d like.
Whoever was knocking.
I knew who was fucking knocking.
I didn’t move.
I couldn’t move, actually, because the grief had seized every one of my
muscles. I clenched my jaw, tighter, tighter, until it hurt, until I hoped my
teeth cracked. My fists were white-knuckled around the sheets. I could
smell the smoke—Nightfire, my magic, eating away at them.
I had been robbed of something precious. Those hazy moments where
everything was as it had been.
I slipped from sleep with the image of Vincent’s decimated body still
seared into my mind, just as dead and just as mutilated in my sleeping
moments as it was in my waking ones.
“Wake up, princess!” The voice was so loud that even with the door
closed, it boomed through the room. “I know those catlike senses of yours.
You think I don’t know you’re awake? I’d rather you let me in, but I’ll
barge in if I have to.”
I hated that voice.
I hated that voice.
I needed ten more seconds before I could look at him. Five more—
BANG.
BA—
I threw back the covers, leapt from my bed, crossed the room in a few
long strides, and threw open the door.
“Knock on that door,” I breathed, “one more fucking time.”
My husband smiled at me, lowering his raised fist, which had indeed
been ready to knock one more fucking time. “There she is.”
I hated that face.
I hated those words.
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