Ruin and Rising (The Grisha Trilogy), Leigh Bardugo
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Leigh Bardugo

Ruin and Rising (The Grisha Trilogy)

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Heidi Schmidt Hott
Heidi Schmidt Hottalıntı yaptı2 ay önce
Stigg, one of our two surviving Inferni. He was thick-necked, blond, and utterly humorless—Fjerdan to the core
Ezrel Zárate
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But I’d really come to see Misha. I reassured him that I had found someone to continue his lessons while we were gone, and I gifted him with one of the golden sunburst pins worn by my personal guard. Mal wouldn’t be able to wear it in the south, and the delight on Misha’s face was worth all of Baghra’s sneering
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“What is infinite? ” she recited.

I knew that text well. “The universe and the greed of men,” I quoted back to her
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Was it harder to lose a mother or to simply never know one? Either way, I felt for him. He’d lost

his family piece by piece—first his brother, now his parents. “I’m sorry, Nikolai.”
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have such a naturally delightful scent that it seems like overkill. But if you have a penchant for it, I’ll start.”
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I was a living star. I was combustion. I was a new sun born to shatter air and eat the earth.

I am ruination.

The world trembled, dissolved, crashed in on itself.
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Gently, he took my face in his hands. “I would have been different too, without you. Weaker, reckless.” He smiled slightly. “Afraid of the dark.” He brushed the tears from my cheeks. I wasn’t sure when they’d started. “But no matter who or what I was, I would have been yours.”
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“You move forward, and when you falter, you get up. And when you can’t, you let us carry you. You let me carry you.”
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It was stupid. It was dangerous. But Ana Kuya used to tell me that hope was tricky like water. Somehow it always found a way in.
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“It’s different for us,” I said. “Harder to trust.”

“I have news for you, Alina. That’s tough for everyone.”

“You don’t—”

“I know, I know. I don’t get it. I just know there’s no way to live without pain—no matter how long or short your life is. People let you down. You get hurt and do damage in return.
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“We all know the burden you’re carrying. You don’t have to bear it alone.”

I shook my head. “You don’t understand. You can’t.”

“Maybe not. But I saw this with soldiers in my unit. You keep storing up all that anger and grief. Eventually it spills over. Or you drown in it.”
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“Maybe you’re hungry,” said Zoya. “I always get mean when I’m hungry.”
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What would life be like when the people I loved were gone? When there were no mysteries left?
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I had no solace or encouragement to offer. I didn’t want to share this hurt. I didn’t want them to see how frightened I was.
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“Know that I loved you,” she said to the Darkling. “Know that it was not enough.”
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In the end, maybe love just meant longing for something impossibly bright and forever out of reach.
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We might be happy in time. People fell in love every day. Genya and David. Tamar and Nadia. But were they happy? Would they stay that way? Maybe love was superstition, a prayer we said to keep the truth of loneliness at bay
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I couldn’t help but smile.

“See?” he said. “If we’re not dead in a month, we might be very happy together.”

“Stop that,” I said, still grinning.

“What?”

“Saying the right thing.”

“I’ll try to wean myself of
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I laughed. “You know damn well I like you, Nikolai.”

“Such a tepid sentiment.”

“I don’t hear you making declarations of love.”

“Would they help?”

“No.”

“Flattery? Flowers? A hundred head of cattle?”

I gave him a shove. “No.”
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Grief had its own life, took its own sustenance.
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