Tw: this book will deal with triggering topics. If you are easily triggered this is not the story for you, thank you.
(Book three in the Starlight series)
─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Danika Archeron was a damn god.
No longer would she be broken, no...
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"She is beauty. She is grace. She'll punch you in the face."
─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
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Astrid
ASTRID MITCHELS was beginning to believe everyone in the world was idiotic.
Everyone aside from the very few who possessed at least some semblance of sanity. Which seemed to be no one in this wretched manor. Not a single one.
Guards slacked at their posts, servants crawled throughout the house—though it was not the servants she had a problem with, it was the fact they were not even being paid for their work—people came in and out asking for things Tamlin would not grant. No, he simply overtaxed the poor while he tressed his court up in pretty, puffy dresses.
If she had one word to describe the High Lord's house it would be, hell.
All in all, Astrid hated it here. She wanted to leave. And thankfully, if everything went according to Danika's plan, that possibility might be a whole lot sooner than she expected.
Her friend had spoken to her about Eira's idea, about the fact that if Flynn could close those portals, if Danika could somehow get that Cauldron, everything would collapse in on itself. They would win, barely lifting a finger to do so.
A part of Astrid was hesitant, it seemed...easy. Too easy. And yet not. It felt as though there was more to do to achieve their freedom. More to do to rid of this entire mess. But the promise of something new. A life without killing and bloodshed and war...Astrid didn't care if it was easy or the hardest thing in the galaxy. For that...for that she might very well burn the world to the ground.
Just as they all would.
Life without the Flame. A life of choice. Of peace.
