Jesus. The violence is overwhelming, and yet, again, there are those Shards of Hope Singh sprinkles throughout. And the Psy children are learning how to play. Aden Kai leads the powerful Arrow Squad into stewarding the Psy race's shift into emotional freedom, but as he convinces the only woman he. Read "Shards of Hope" by Nalini Singh with Rakuten Kobo. The “smoldering heat, epic romance, and awesome action”* of Nalini Singh's New York Times.
|Published:||19 April 2014|
|PDF File Size:||49.79 Mb|
|ePub File Size:||43.3 Mb|
And not because her own Silence was flawless. The truth was that Zaira had never needed Silence.
What had been done to her in childhood had caused her to retreat deep into her psyche, shoving her emotions into a dark hole in a nalini singh shards of hope to survive. In their place had grown an iron will and a harshly practical mind. Silence had only ever been a tool she used to create a civilized shell.
Without it, she was close to feral but no less ruthless, her brain having learned long ago to put survival above all else.
It made her the perfect soldier. That capacity was in permanent cold storage, but it gave her a conscience regardless.
It also gave her the capacity for unflinching loyalty: I blasted a telepathic request for assistance but no one made it to me in time.
Shards of Hope by Nalini Singh |
Now her breathing grew harsher as he checked the edges of her wound by touch. I put myself low on the priority list—others on the frontline needed it more. It was too big on her, and he rolled up the sleeves before she could nalini singh shards of hope him—Zaira would not want her hands hindered in case of a fight.
That done, he stripped off his T-shirt and, tearing it using brute force, managed to make wadding for the entry wound on her side. Knotting together strips of fabric, he got it around her waist and tied the wadding into place.
It was useful when he had healthy backup, but it became a liability in a combat situation.
Far better for him to rely on his skills. Pain was a hot poker down his spine, his vision blurred for over a half minute.
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All their psychic abilities were nalini singh shards of hope of reach. Leaving Zaira on the floor in her guise of a small, weak, wounded creature, he rose to his feet.
The light that poured into the room was dim, but it told him multiple things. This room had no other exits and was created of hard plascrete. There was a corridor outside, but no sounds of machinery—even the hum of background technology or traffic—invaded the room.
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Either they were far from civilization or the plascrete was well insulated. The heavily muscled man in the doorway was dressed in camouflage pants, a jacket of the same mottled shade, and black combat boots.
He stood like a special ops soldier. Black ops most likely. He carried a weapon.