The Burning God

He knew exactly what choice she’d made and what she’d intended. And that made everything—hating her, loving her, surviving her—so much harder.

because Rin and Kitay were bonded in a way that he could never understand, and there was no world where Rin died and Kitay remained alive.

Oh, but history moved in such vicious circles.

Take what you want, it said. I’ll hate you for it. But I’ll love you forever. I can’t help but love you.

Ruin me, ruin us, and I’ll let you.

She recognized the way he was looking at her. It was how she’d once looked at Altan. It was the way she’d seen Daji look at Riga—that look of wretched, desperate, and reproachful loyalty.

she was the visionary, and he was her willing executioner.

Did they love one another so fiercely, so desperately?

He looked younger. He looked like the boy she’d known at school.

He always looked so different in the moonlight.

Yet, Rin supposed, lovers could still inflict that kind of violence on each other. Hadn’t Riga loved Daji? Hadn’t Jiang loved Tseveri?

Hadn’t Nezha once loved her?