Burn by Keri Arthur (Kingdoms of Earth & Air Book 3)
English | 2019 | Fantasy | ePUB | 411 Kb
Burn : Will a woman with no memory be the salvation of her people… or the means of their final destruction?
Nara Velez wakes in a prison pod with no idea how she got there. She quickly learns that things have drastically changed during the time she can’t remember—and not just with her situation. The Mareritt—an ancient enemy—now control most of Arleeon and treat her people little better than slaves.
Worse still, the Mareritt also control the drakkons.
Nara has no choice but to work with Kaiden Silva, the warrior she’s been chained to and a man who distrusts her deeply. But escaping the Mareritt is only the first of their problems; they soon discover their enemy is working on a brand-new weapon—one with the power to wipe out the last remaining free city in Arleeon, just as they’d wiped out the drakkon warriors of yesteryear.
If Nara is to have any hope of freeing Arleeon, she must first regain her memories and determine why they were restricted.
But in doing so, she might just unleash hell on the very people she is trying to save.
Because there is magic in her mind… and its source is Mareritt.
“Tendra was a name I recognized, though I had no awareness of flesh markets within her walls. But it did at least mean I’d crashed in Arleeon rather than elsewhere.
The woman to my left sobbed loudly. I shifted and surreptitiously squeezed her thigh. She jerked away from my hand, and as the light flashed once again, the scent of her fear and pain grew stronger. She wasn’t comforted by my touch—quite the opposite, in fact.
I frowned, my gaze sweeping her. She was young—no more than fifteen or sixteen, at a guess—and very pretty. Her face was unmarked, but her clothing was in disarray; one breast was exposed and bore bruises that spoke of brutish hands, the traces of blood farther down her clothing of innocence lost.
Anger stirred again, sharper than before. But again, it was useless. I clenched gloved fingers, watched the drops of moisture leach from the leather, and imagined it as blood. The blood of our captors. The blood of those who’d raped these women and broken these men.
I might not remember who I was, but it certainly seemed I had a vengeful bent.
I returned my gaze to the warrior. “We cannot let that happen.”