By Lesley Livingston
Perfect for lovers of Cassandra Clare's Mortal tools sequence, this action-packed, undeniably romantic saga that begun with Starling and intensified in Descendant involves an epic end in Transcendent.
On a terrace excessive above the streets of long island, Mason Starling holds the destiny of the world—and of her love, Fennrys—in her arms. For it has all come all the way down to this. Mason Starling has accomplished her father's imaginative and prescient and turn into a Valkyrie—a chooser of the slain and the one that will eventually lead to the top of the world.
But she is decided that what occurs subsequent isn't what the prophecy foretold , or what her father has deliberate, or what the fates have already determined. What occurs subsequent is as much as Mason and Fennrys. Or is it?
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Additional resources for Transcendent: A Starling Novel
As I have been made the vessel of the Allfather’s power, so you and your brother carry the essences of Vali and Vidar, the children of Odin destined to rebuild the world. Mason was to be the third son. The sacrifice. ” Gunnar’s brow creased in a dark frown, and lightning from the storm cast his features in a sudden, ugly grimace. “Her mother thwarted me in that. But now I have the chance to right her wrong. . ” Gunnar nodded to the mirror and Rory began to sputter in outrage. ” he squawked. “Him?
Remembered its real purpose. Remembered the things it had been filled with before the trident had pierced it. Before the love that had filled it had flowed out onto the ground in a pool of his blood. Before the white feather had turned red. He remembered. And his body began shifting in the other direction. Smells dulled, sights dimmed. Hands. Not paws. . His wolf’s eyes looked down and saw the flesh of his arms rippling beneath his fair human skin. His wolf’s voice cried out against it. So close.
She glanced over at Cal’s mother where she stood with her white priestess robes flapping wetly like the sails of an abandoned boat. She lifted her chin and strove for defiance, but all Daria’s arrogant elegance—the superior attitude she wore like a suit of armor—had turned brittle and cracked at the seams. Mason could see the woman beneath the facade for the first time and she wondered fleetingly about the girl she might have once been. The one who had so fiercely befriended Mason’s own mother that, when Yelena Starling had died, Daria had begun to plot an unfathomable revenge against Gunnar Starling that had spanned decades.