Shadow and Bone

have to kneel to another King again.”
“No.”
“All because of you.”
“No!” I shouted at her. “I wouldn’t do that! Even if what
you’re saying is true, I would never help him do that.”
“You won’t have a choice. The stag’s power belongs to
whoever slays it.”
“But he can’t use an amplifier,” I protested weakly.
“He can use you,” Baghra said softly. “Morozova’s stag is
no ordinary amplifier. He will hunt it. He will kill it. He will
take its antlers, and once he places them around your neck,
you will belong to him completely. You will be the most
powerful Grisha who has ever lived, and all that newfound
power will be his to command. You will be bound to him
forever, and you will be powerless to resist.”
It was the pity in her voice that undid me. Pity from the
woman who’d never allowed me a moment’s weakness, a
moment’s rest.
My legs gave way, and I slid to the floor. I covered my head
with my hands, trying to block out Baghra’s voice. But I
couldn’t stop the Darkling’s words from echoing through my
mind.
We all serve someone.
The King is a child.
You and I are going to change the world.
He had lied to me about Baghra. He had lied about the
Black Heretic. Had he lied about the stag, too?
I’m asking you to trust me.
Baghra had begged him to give me another amplifier, but
he’d insisted it had to be the stag’s antlers. A necklace—no, a
collar—of bone. And when I’d pushed him, he’d kissed me
and I’d forgotten all about the stag and amplifiers and
everything else. I remembered his perfect face in the
lamplight, his stunned expression, his rumpled hair.