81
" I cry out and fall to my knees, unable to go on, weeping for the dead, weeping for the cruelties, and a whisper calls to me from far away, You are strong, Stronger than your pain, Stronger than your grief, Stronger than them. And I force myself to my feet again. "
― Mary E. Pearson , The Kiss of Deception (The Remnant Chronicles, #1)
84
" I was about to reach in the basket to take one when a horse that had been grazing nearby suddenly charged at another horse. Kaden grabbed me and pulled me out of its path. We stumbled back, unable to regain our footing, and both tumbled to the ground. He rolled over me in a protective motion, hovering in case the horse came closer, but it was already gone.
The world snapped to silence. The tall grass waved above us, hiding us from view. He gazed down at me, his elbows straddling my sides, his chest brushing mine, his face inches away.
I saw the look in his eyes. My heart pounded against my ribs.
“Are you all right?” His voice was low and husky.
“Yes,” I whispered.
His face hovered closer to mine. I was going to push away, look away, do something, but I didn’t, and before I knew what was happening, the space between us disappeared. His lips were warm and gentle against mine, and his breath thrummed in my ears. Heat raced through me. It was just as I had imagined that night with Pauline back in Terravin so long ago. Before—
I pushed him away.
“Lia—”
I got to my feet, my chest heaving, busying myself with a loose button on my shirt. “Let’s forget that happened, Kaden.”
He had jumped to his feet too. He grabbed my hand so I had to look at him. “You wanted to kiss me.”
I shook my head, denying it, but it was true. I had wanted to kiss him. "
― Mary E. Pearson , The Kiss of Deception (The Remnant Chronicles, #1)
85
" My time in camp with Kaden had become awkward several times, or perhaps I was just more self-conscious now.
I had known he cared about me. It was hardly a secret. It was the reason I was still alive, but I hadn’t quite grasped how much he cared. And in spite of myself, I knew in my own way, I cared about him too. Not Kaden the assassin, but the Kaden I had known back in Terravin, the one who had caught my attention the minute he walked through the tavern door. The one who was calm and had mysterious, but kind, eyes.
I remembered dancing with him at the festival, his arms pulling me closer, and the way he struggled with his thoughts, holding them back. He didn’t hold back the night he was drunk. The fireshine had loosened his lips and he laid it all out quite blatantly. Slurred and sloshy but clear. He loved me. This from a barbarian who was sent to kill me.
I lay back, staring into the cloudless sky, a shade bluer and brighter than yesterday.
Did he even know what love was? For that matter, did I? Even my parents didn’t seem to know. I crossed my arms behind my head as a pillow. Maybe there was no one way to define it. Maybe there were as many shades of love as the blues of the sky.
I wondered if his interest had begun when I tended his shoulder. I remembered his odd look of surprise when I touched him, as if no one had ever shown him a kindness before. If Griz, Finch, and Malich were any indication of his past, maybe no one had. They showed a certain steely devotion to one another, but it in no way resembled kindness. And then there were those scars on his chest and back. Only cruel savage could have delivered those. Yet somewhere along the way, Kaden had learned kindness. Tenderness, even. It surfaced in small actions. He seemed like he was two separate people, the intensely loyal Vendan assassin and someone else far different, someone he had locked away, a prisoner just like me. "
― Mary E. Pearson , The Kiss of Deception (The Remnant Chronicles, #1)
96
" I sat there for minutes, seasons, years, the wind becoming winter against my skin, the day becoming night, then blinding again, harsh with detail. I closed my eyes, but the details still shone bright and demanding behind my lids, replacing a lifetime of memories with a single bloody image of Walther, and then, mercifully, the image faded, everything faded, leaving only dull, numbing gray. "
― Mary E. Pearson , The Kiss of Deception (The Remnant Chronicles, #1)
