Extraits

“Everyone has skeletons in the closet, and those who claimed otherwise were usually the ones with the most to hide.”

— Il n'y aura jamais d'autre toi, Faythe. Humaine, fae, bien née, roturière... Il n'y aura jamais plus d'âme comme la tienne.

There will never be another like you, Faythe. Human, fae, highborn, commoner...Never another soul like yours.

Against man, against fae, against the damned spirits if need be - she would fight for those she loved.

It was a relief being with him, she realized. She didn't have to hide anything about herself, and he never looked at her with any kind of distaste or hatefulness. He didn't fear her for what she might be capable of.

You can't run from yourself. Stop being so afraid of your own abilities and face them, Faythe, or the things you're trying so hard to hide may very well be your undoing.

She wanted desperately to go back to her life of ignorance; to just be a simple human girl who loved her friends, did the work she needed to stay fed, and enjoyed her spare time swinging a blade that would never see the lines of battle.

Nik stormed up to her, scanning her body for signs of physical injury. 'Why hurt you?' he snarled, catching her jaws, which still ached.

“She would not be weak.

She would not cower.

She would not lose.”