Children of Fallen Gods (The War of Lost Hearts Book 2) by Carissa Broadbent (good english books to read .TXT) 📕

man, who was introduced to us as Orin, Ezra’s half-brother and Niraja’s lead war-master. He barely spoke, aside from a terse greeting. But I couldn’t tell if I was imagining his uncomfortably long stares, ones that made me keep glancing down to make sure my tattoos were still hidden and disguise intact.

Pleasantries were brief. We barely made it past the first course before Caduan was telling them of the humans’ escalating attacks. He recounted each slaughter, first on the House of Stone, then upon the House of Reeds, and finally, upon Yithara. Ezra and Athalena were pale by the time he was done. For a long, long moment they did not speak. I watched their faces carefully.

“Horrible,” Athalena muttered, as if to herself. “Horrible.”

Ezra reached for her hand, but instead of taking it, her fingers curled into a fist. The two of them exchanged a glance, one leaden with a silent language only the two of them spoke. When we had first arrived, Ezra had seemed the picture of a noble Fey king, carefully controlled. But now, in the wordless conversation he was having with his wife, his face revealed a deep concern.

“We are the first, then, to bring you this information?” Ishqa asked. His voice seemed to pull Ezra from his trance, because when he looked back to us, his face was once again pleasantly calm.

“Of course you are,” he said, and despite his warm smile I did not miss the slight edge to his voice. “We have no contact with the Fey world. As your people had long ago decided.”

“Of course,” Ashraia said. “We didn’t mean to imply—”

“The world of humans is simply foreign and unfamiliar to us,” Ishqa cut in, smoothly. “Despite the extent of their destruction, we still do not know why the humans are targeting us, nor who they might strike next. You sit between the human world and the Fey. If anyone would have greater insight into this, we thought it would be you.” He bowed his head. “Respectfully.”

Ezra and Athalena exchanged another glance. That look confirmed what the first one had made me suspect. They did know something. I was certain of it.

“We’re sorry to disappoint you,” Ezra said, tersely. “This is all as much of a surprise to us as it is to you.”

I just watched Athalena, who sat there in noticeable silence with her jaw tight and eyes drawn to the table.

“Ezra—” she murmured.

But his arm shifted, as if he had placed his hand on her knee beneath the table, and she went silent

“Of course,” he said, “you are all welcome to stay here as long as you wish. Speak to our scholars, if you so desire, or simply rest before continuing on your journey.”

Something told me that Ezra’s scholars would have little more to tell us, either. My fingers curled into fists against the polished mahogany. I did not come this far for nothing.

“Do not lie to us,” I said.

I could feel Ishqa’s warning glance, even if I wouldn’t meet it.

Ezra’s brows lurched. “I wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“We took a great risk by coming here,” I said. “You must understand that. We didn’t defy a century of expectations just to be fed a mouthful of pretty food and pretty words and turned away.”

“Wife—” Ishqa started, and even in that one word I could hear the razored warning — stop, you idiot, right this second.

“Lives are in the balance,” I said. “The humans have proven that they will not stop. And you are foolish if you think they will not come for you after they—”

In one smooth movement, Ezra stood, his blue eyes suddenly cold as shattered ice. “They will come for us? You have the audacity to come to my kingdom, the very kingdom that your people tried to destroy out of nothing but your hatred and ignorance, and pretend to be concerned for our safety? Do not treat me as if I’m stupid. I was there, when the Fey Houses attempted to imprison and slaughter my people — my blood. My family is in a perilous position, perhaps the only kingdom despised by all, Fey and human alike. And I will not, I will never, allow the same fate to—” His voice broke, and he cut himself off abruptly. Athalena put her hand on his, and I watched Orin look to his brother, a faint wrinkle of concern between his brows.

Ezra let out a breath, collected himself, and looked back to us. “So I ask you not to sit there and tell me how I should protect my family. Trust that I am very well aware of which weapons are drawn at my back, whether they are held by humans, or held by you.”

Beside me, Ishqa leaned forward. I could already imagine the words that would come out of his mouth next, smooth as butter and sweet as honey, the product of decades of training in politics.

But he did not get the chance to speak, because Caduan did first.

“I know as well as you do,” he said, “how it feels to have your people targeted. I have none left to fight for. And I would not wish that upon Niraja, just as I would not wish it upon any other House. I do not know what my word is worth as the King of a nation of nineteen people and a pile of ruin. But I am certain that one day, the House of Stone will rise again. And when it does, if you help us here, I offer you our alliance for life.” He extended his hand across the table, palm up. “Exile be damned, it would be yours.”

I forgot to breathe.

The blood of a king could forge an unbreakable bond. It was an incredible offer, and one that was rarely given. My father had forged only one unbreakable alliance in his reign, and even that, he did under great duress.

Ishqa, Ashraia, and Siobhan were all looking at Caduan as if he was absolutely insane. Even Ezra