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R. F. Kuang

The Dragon Republic

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Rin’s story continues in this acclaimed sequel to The Poppy War—an epic fantasy combining the history of twentieth-century China with a gripping world of gods and monsters.
The war is over.
The war has just begun.
Three times throughout its history, Nikan has fought for its survival in the bloody Poppy Wars. Though the third battle has just ended, shaman and warrior Rin cannot forget the atrocity she committed to save her people. Now she is on the run from her guilt, the opium addiction that holds her like a vice, and the murderous commands of the fiery Phoenix—the vengeful god who has blessed Rin with her fearsome power.
Though she does not want to live, she refuses to die until she avenges the traitorous Empress who betrayed Rin’s homeland to its enemies. Her only hope is to join forces with the powerful Dragon Warlord, who plots to conquer Nikan, unseat the Empress, and create a new republic.
But neither the Empress nor the Dragon Warlord are what they seem. The more Rin witnesses, the more she fears her love for Nikan will force her to use the Phoenix’s deadly power once more.
Because there is nothing Rin won’t sacrifice to save her country . . . and exact her vengeance.
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Utgivningsår
2019
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    Mind blowing 🤯

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    This is great!!

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Citat

  • dianahar citeratför 3 år sedan
    The only thing worse than being tortured was knowing that Kitay was being tortured—to feel it happening, to know that it was ten times worse on his end, and to be unable to stop it.
  • dianahar citeratför 3 år sedan
    Nezha stood up and moved across the sampan to sit down beside her. His hand grazed the small of her back.

    She shivered at his touch. “What are you doing?”

    “Where’s your injury?” he asked. He pressed his fingers into the scar in her side. “Here?”

    “That hurts.”

    “Good,” he said. His hand moved behind her. She thought he was going to pull her into him, but then she felt a pressure at the small of her back. She blinked, confused. She didn’t realize that she had been stabbed until Nezha drew his hand away, and she saw the blood on his fingers.

    She slumped to the side. He pulled her into his arms.

    His face ebbed in and out of her vision. She tried to speak, but her lips were heavy, clumsy; all she could do was push air out in incoherent whispers. “You . . . but you . . .”

    “Don’t try to speak,” Nezha murmured, and he brushed his lips against her forehead as he drove the knife deeper into her back.
  • dianahar citeratför 3 år sedan
    Fire and water looked so lovely together. It was a pity they destroyed each other by nature.

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