My name is Aleksander Morozova, but I have had a hundred names and I have committed a thousand crimes. I am not sorry. I do not repent!

He has served countless kings, faked countless deaths, bided his time, waiting for you.

I felt it then, the vibration along that invisible tether. I pushed away from it. I would not go to the Darkling now. I wouldn't go to him ever again. But still, I knew wherever he was, he was grieving.

Why waste my anger on you when the fault is mine? I should have anticipated another betrayal from you, one more mad grasp at some kind of childish ideal. But I seem to be a victim of my own wishes where you are concerned.” His expression hardened. “What have you come here for, Alina?”I answered him honestly. “I wanted to see you.”I caught the briefest glimpse of surprise before his face shuttered again. “There are two thrones on that dais. You could see me any time you liked.

He leaned against the window, and the gilded frame came into sharp focus. “Do you think it would be any different with your tracker beside you? With that Lantsov pup?”“Yes,” I said simply.“Because you would be the strong one?”“Because they’re better men than you.”“You might make me a better man.”“And you might make me a monster.

It’s true,” I said softly. “You are stronger, wiser, infinite in experience.” I leaned forward and whispered, my lips brushing the shell of his ear. “But I am an apt pupil.

He’d wanted me to believe in his ruthlessness.Then I remembered his words from so long ago: Make me your villain.

I’ve never understood this taste for otkazat’sya. Is it because you thought you were one of them for so long?”“I had a taste for you, once.” His head snapped up. He hadn’t expected that. Saints, it was satisfying.

Why did you go to her? Because with her he was human again.