𝗛𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝘁 𝗮 𝘄𝗮𝗿 𝗰𝗮𝗺𝗽 𝗯𝘂𝗶𝗹𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗺𝗼𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀❟ 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲. Every child of the five Lands bonds a beast. Agan didn't. Three years Nameless, heir to a throne he was never meant to inherit, he's sent to the First Gate with one order from his father: come back worthy, or don't come back at all. The camp wants him dead. His rival wants him broken. And the girl who sees straight through him, who is also marked, untouchable, and promised to someone else, wants nothing to do with the boy whose family grew rich on the bones of her people. But something is buried under the salt. Something old. Something that knows Agan's name even though no beast ever spoke it. The enemy they were all sent here to fight isn't a monster. It's a debt. And it's coming to collect. 𝘌𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴-𝘵𝘰-𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘴. 𝘈 𝘸𝘢𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘦. 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩.

They made a contract to die together on April 1, but nobody warned them about the pancakes, the paint-stained hands, or the terrifying possibility that breakfast might be worth living for. 𝘐𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘈 𝘔𝘈𝘕 𝘊𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘌𝘋 𝘖𝘝𝘌 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘕𝘖𝘙𝘔𝘈𝘓 𝘗𝘌𝘖𝘗𝘓𝘌 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘚𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘕 𝘏𝘜𝘚𝘉𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘚 𝘖𝘍 𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘓𝘠𝘕 𝘏𝘜𝘎𝘖, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳.

A curse is merging their bodies cell by cell, and the only thing more terrifying than becoming one person is how badly they're starting to want it.

I was three days old the first time I saw Father Polycarp Okeke's hands shake. He was pouring holy water over my head. A drop fell into my eyes before the prayer began. I remember the cold. I remember his eyes refusing to meet mine. I remember my mother laughing in the front pew and a nun weeping at the back. I did not understand, at three days old, why a priest trembles over a baby. I understand now. I am eighteen years old. I have died three times. And tonight, I am walking up the hill to St. Anthony's Mission to ask Father Polycarp Okeke a question he has been waiting eighteen years for me to ask. But memory is a door that swings both ways. The letter waiting on my pillow when I came home this morning was written in my own handwriting, in handwriting that has been dead since 1962, and it says four words I cannot stop reading: 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨.

She gave up Ethan so he could have his happy ending... now it's Oatley's turn to find hers.

𝗦𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗿𝗼𝘄𝗻. 𝗦𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲. 𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸. Every season, the river takes a bride. Every season, a girl walks into the black water and never returns. The covenant is ancient. The god is hungry. This season, Ama is chosen. But Ama doesn't drown. A stranger who is scarred, silent, and speaking a language she has never heard pulls her from the water. He will not explain why he saved her. He will not tell her what he's running from. And she cannot ask, because the river took her voice as payment for the life it was denied. Now she is cursed. Voiceless. Hunted by something older than the dust they run on. And the only person standing between her and the water's teeth is a man whose hands know how to save... and how to destroy. ♦ 𝗗𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗔𝗳𝗿𝗼-𝗳𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗮𝘀𝘆 𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗳𝗼𝗹𝗸𝗹𝗼𝗿𝗲❟ 𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗰❟ 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘁 ♦ 𝗗𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗣𝗢𝗩 - 𝗮 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗵𝗮𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗼𝗿 ♦ 𝗙𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗕𝗼𝗻𝗲❟ 𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗔𝘀𝗵❟ 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗔𝗻 𝗘𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗔𝘀𝗵𝗲𝘀 𝘜𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘚𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺 · 𝘛𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘥𝘢𝘺 · 𝘛𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘥𝘢𝘺 ⚠️ CONTENT WARNING: violence, sexual content, grief, spiritual horror, themes of sacrifice. 𝗠𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 (𝟭𝟳+) - 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗱𝘃𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗱