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Open Daily: 10am - 10pm | Alley-side Pickup: 10am - 7pm
3038 Hennepin Ave Minneapolis, MN
612-822-4611
The Crown

The Crown

Paperback

Series: The Aevenmoor Trilogy, Book 3

RomanceGeneral Fiction

Currently unavailable to order

ISBN13: 9798191365541
Publisher: Independently Published
Pages: 264
Weight: 0.68
Height: 0.60 Width: 5.50 Depth: 8.50
Language: English
What do you want?

I want you to live, Thorne says immediately.

No. That is what you want for me. What do you want for yourself? Not for the world. Not for the working. For you.

He opens his mouth. Nothing comes out.

I do not know, he says at last, his voice breaking. No one has ever asked me. Not once. In a hundred and forty-five years, not one living soul has ever asked me what I want.

I lay my hand against his jaw. Then start small. Tell me one thing you want from me right now.

He is silent for a long me. Not once. In a hundred and forty-five years, not one living soul has ever asked me what I want.

I lay my hand against his jaw. moment.

I want to touch your hair.

Yes, I whisper. Come here.

Later, shaking and undone, his forehead pressed to mine, he finally says it without apology:

I want you. All of you. I want to be let in.

Then be let in.

The Star-Gate has failed. Wren Halloway wakes alone-and the world is already beginning to lose its hold on her.

Her mates have been scattered across the dying realm. Kit's shadows are faint. Rian's fire burns wounded. Caelum's thread is stretched almost to breaking. And the fourth bond still pulls east, toward Thorne Morwyn-a quiet keeper of the dead who has spent more than a century asking for nothing.

Finding the others is only the beginning.

The Unmaking has entered Wren's body. Her hands turn translucent. Time disappears around her. Pieces of who she is are being erased, and even three powerful bonds can no longer keep her whole.

To survive, Wren must complete the final Starbond. But Thorne's greatest battle is not against a court or an army. It is learning to reach for the living-and to believe that his own wanting is allowed to matter.

Meanwhile, the Aetherveil is collapsing. Hollows are spreading across Aevenmoor, and the Crown Anchor-the ancient black obelisk holding the realm's protective weave together-is nearly dark. Restoring it will require the largest act of aether-shaping in a thousand years.

Only Wren can perform the working.

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Romance