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“The carriage door ripped open, torn from its hinges. Cold air rushed in with the night, and the night was enraged. It washed over me, its intensity so stunning, it overwhelmed me, shutting down my senses. [...] “It’s okay. Shh, it’s okay, Poppy. Stop. Look at me,” a voice demanded. “Look at me, Princess.” Princess. The Ascended wouldn’t call me that. Breathing ragged, my wild gaze swiveled around the carriage, stopping when I found him. He hovered over me, cheeks spotted with blood. “Hawke,” I whispered. “Yeah. Yes.” He sounded shredded and windblown. “It’s me.” — Jennifer L. Armentrout
The carriage door ripped open, torn from its hinges. Cold air rushed in
with the night, and the night was enraged. It washed over me, its intensity
so stunning, it overwhelmed me, shutting down my senses. [...]
“It’s okay. Shh, it’s okay, Poppy. Stop. Look at me,” a voice
demanded. “Look at me, Princess.”
Princess.
The Ascended wouldn’t call me that.
Breathing ragged, my wild gaze swiveled around the carriage, stopping
when I found him. He hovered over me, cheeks spotted with blood.
“Hawke,” I whispered.
“Yeah. Yes.” He sounded shredded and windblown. “It’s me.