Beasts of Ruin

In this much anticipated follow up to Beasts of Prey, Koffi s powers grow stronger and Ekon s secrets turn darker as they face the god of death itself.

Koffi has saved her city and the boy she loves, but at a terrible price. Now a servant to the cunning god of death, she must use her newfound power to further his continental conquest, or risk the safety of her home and loved ones. As she reluctantly learns to survive amidst unexpected friends and foes, she will also have to choose between the life and love she once had, or the one she could have, if she truly embraces her dangerous gifts.

Cast out from the only home he s ever known, Ekon is forced to strike new and unconventional alliances to find and rescue Koffi before it s too late. But as he gets closer to the realm of death each day, so too does he draw nearer to a terrible truth one that could cost everything.

Koffi and Ekon separated by land, sea, and gods will have to risk everything to reunite again. But the longer they re kept apart, the harder each of their loyalties are tested. Soon, both may have to reckon with changing hearts and maybe, changing destinies.

Autorentext
Ayana Gray is the New York Times bestselling author of the critically acclaimed Beasts of Prey trilogy. Her works have been translated into ten languages across five continents and are being adapted for feature film. Originally from Atlanta, she now lives among the rolling hills and rivers of Arkansas.

Klappentext

In this much anticipated follow up to New York Times bestselling Beasts of Prey, Koffi’s powers grow stronger and Ekon’s secrets turn darker as they face the god of death.

After having promised to use her new powers to serve Fedu, the cunning god of death, and assist in his plans to remake the world, Koffi finds herself a prisoner in Thornkeep—a luxurious mansion with well-manicured gardens. But Fedu’s beautiful realm is a lie. Koffi and many other darajas are trapped there by a deadly, inscrutable mist, making escape impossible. But something within the mist calls to Koffi, igniting her magic. It soon becomes clear that the very thing imprisoning her could be the key to not only her freedom, but finally unlocking the remaining mysteries of her own magic, allowing her to fight the god of death and perhaps even win.

While Koffi attempts to decipher the secrets of the mist and learns to wield her own deadly power, Ekon is determined to make his way to Thornkeep to fight alongside her. But leaving Lkossa is easier said than done. Ekon, once a promising soldier, is now a wanted man on the run from those he once called brother. He’s forced to make new, uneasy alliances to flee Lkossa and turn his back on everything he once believed. And each day he draws closer to the realm of death, so too does Ekon draw nearer to a long-hidden truth about himself that could change his loyalties forever.

Koffi and Ekon—separated by both land and gods—risk everything to reunite. But the longer they’re apart, the more they will have to reckon with changing destinies and, maybe, changing hearts.

Leseprobe
CHAPTER 1
The Master Of Thornkeep

Koffi smelled the blackberries first.

Saccharine, tart, it was their cloying scent that lured her back to consciousness. Slowly, she opened her eyes. A groan began low in her throat, very nearly passing through her lips, but instinct caught the sound before it could escape. In the silence, a realization settled on her skin like motes of dust.

She didn’t know where she was.

Life returned to her fingertips, and Koffi let them explore, taking tactile reconnaissance of her surroundings. From them, she gathered that she was lying on something soft—a bed—with linen sheets bunched at her waist. Her head rolled to the left, pressing one cheek against the cool pillow beneath her; she paid for that small movement instantly. A stab of pain throbbed at the base of her skull, and her eyes watered. Seconds passed before her dulled vision sharpened again. Even then, she couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing.

She was in a large bedroom, one she’d never been in before. Its walls—at least, those visible in the dimness—were a cool slate gray. Squares of buttery light dappled the vaulted ceiling overhead, which she took to mean it was morning. A glint to her left caught her eye, and she noted a bone-white nightstand beside the bed. There was a gilded serving tray on it, laden with food. Her eyes took in the sliced bread, the tiny bowls of jam, cheese, and fruit, and her mouth watered.

A feast for a king, she mused. She was still staring at the food, considering, when she heard it: the soft rustle of fabric. She stilled.

She was not alone.

At first, she didn’t understand how she had not immediately noticed the two people standing on the opposite side of the bedroom and facing a massive bay window with their backs to her. But as the seconds passed, she did understand; she hadn’t noticed them because they stood with near-perfect stillness, two statues silhouetted in sunlight. The man was tall, muscled, and lean, with skin like sunbaked clay and cropped black hair. Beside him, the woman was much shorter, with brown skin a shade darker than his and a springy black Afro. His kaftan was river blue, hers was marigold. Without warning, the man spoke.

“How much longer should we let her sleep?” His voice was low. “We’ll wake her soon,” the woman murmured. Her voice was lilting. “He’s expecting her.”

Koffi stiffened on the bed. She was almost certain that these people were talking about her.

Abruptly, the man began to pace. Koffi couldn’t see the details of his face, but his movements reminded her of an agitated lion contained in a too-small cage.

“It doesn’t make sense,” he said between steps. “It’s been years since he brought a new one here—why would he start doing it again now?”

“I don’t know,” the woman replied. She was still facing the window.

The man stopped, and Koffi finally saw his face properly in the light. Every one of his features was smooth and angular, as though carved by a practiced sculptor. He had a long, even nose, ochre eyes framed by thick black brows, and a knife-sharp jawline. Only his scowling mouth looked out of place.

“He said nothing to you?” he asked the woman. “Nothing about where she’s from, or what order she belongs to?”

Finally, the woman turned. Even in profile, Koffi knew at once that she was beautiful too. Her face was soft, defined by full pink lips set below a short, rounded nose. She was frowning.

“He tells me as much as he tells you,” she said. “All I know is that we’re to bring her to the main hall. He didn’t say anything else.”

Koffi swallowed.

“And how are we supposed to do that?” the man asked. Koffi watched him massage the bridge of his nose. “She’s still unconscious.”

“We can’t take her to him in the clothes she’s wearing,” said the woman. Koffi noticed she’d lowered her voice. “They’re filthy. She’ll need to change them.”

Koffi’s pulse quickened. She’d hoped for more time to form a plan. Her eyes searched the room, desperate. The only other furnishings nearby were a vanity and a divan in the far-left corner, neither of which could be used as a weapon or shield. These people, whoever they were, had the advantage. She’d have to move quickly to catch them off guard.

*Think. Think.

• A shaft of golden sunlight drew Koffi’s eyes back to the serving tray on her left. Just be…