A Nine years ago, the war between the Kingdom of Night and the Kingdom of Rivers tore Àn’yīng’s family apart, leaving her mother barely alive and a baby sister to fend for. Now the mortal realm is falling into eternal night, and mó--beautiful, ravenous demons--roam the land, feasting on the flesh of humans and drinking their souls. Àn’yīng is no longer a helpless child, though. Armed with her crescent blades and trained in the ancient art of practitioning, she has decided to enter the Immortality Trials, which are open to any mortal who can survive the journey to the immortal realm. Those who complete the Trials are granted a pill of eternal life--the one thing Àn’yīng knows can heal her dying mother. But to attain the prize, she must survive the competition. Death is common in the Trials. Yet oddly, Àn’yīng finds that someone is helping her stay alive. A rival contestant. Powerful and handsome, Yù’chén is as secretive about his past as he is about his motives for protecting Àn’yīng. The longer she survives the Trials, the clearer it becomes that all is not right in the immortal realm. To save her mother and herself, Àn’yīng will need to figure out whether she can truly trust the stranger she’s falling for or if he’s the most dangerous player of all . . . for herself and for all the realms.

Autorentext

Amélie Wen Zhao was born in Paris and grew up in Beijing, where she spent her days reenacting tales of legendary heroes, ancient kingdoms, and lost magic at her grandmother’s courtyard house. She attended college in the United States and now resides in New York City, working as a finance professional by day and fantasy author by night. In her spare time, she loves to travel and spend time with her family in China, where she’s determined to walk the rivers and lakes of old just like the practitioners in her novels do. Amélie is the author of the Blood Heir trilogy: Blood Heir, Red Tigress, and Crimson Reign; Song of Silver, Flame Like Night and its sequel, Dark Star Burning, Ash Falls White; and The Scorpion and the Night Blossom.

Klappentext

INSTANT NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • The first book of a dark and opulent fantasy duology set in a world at war with demons—perfect for readers who love epic battles, dangerous magic, and high-stakes adventure. Continue the story in The Dragon and the Sun Lotus, available now!

“A sweeping romantasy . . . fast-paced and brimming with a gritty allure.”—Adalyn Grace, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Belladonna

“A mesmerizing blend of danger, spellbinding magic, and lush world-building . . . plunges readers into a world of deadly trials and ravenous demons.”—Isabel Ibañez, #1 New York Times bestselling author of What the River Knows

Nine years ago, the war between the Kingdom of Night and the Kingdom of Rivers tore Àn’yīng’s family apart, leaving her mother barely alive, and a baby sister to fend for. Now the mortal realm is falling into eternal night, and mó—beautiful, ravenous demons—roam, feasting on the souls of humans.

Àn’yīng’s only hope now is the Immortality Trials. If she can complete every Trial in the magical competition, she has the chance to save her mother’s life. But the Trials are deadly, and the longer Àn’yīng survives, the clearer it is that certain contestants are out for her blood. Even odder, though, is the handsome rival who seems intent on protecting her life. Survival is key, but Àn’yīng will need to figure out if she can trust the stranger she’s falling for, or if he’s the most dangerous player of all.

The thrilling beginning of The Three Realms duology
THE SCORPION AND THE NIGHT BLOSSOM • THE DRAGON AND THE SUN LOTUS

Leseprobe
1

The nights have been longer and more beautiful since their world began to bleed into ours. It also gives them more time to hunt. But tonight, I will not be prey.

Through the silk-spun mist, moonlight catches on the wicked curves of my crescent blades, two snug against my palms and six more tucked up my sleeves and bodice for quick access. My thumbs rest against the grooves of the unique talismans engraved on the hilts by my father. The magic of these talismans, activated with a touch of spirit energy, amplifies the power of my blades and makes them lethal weapons against demons.

I move quietly through the fog, each step carefully stitched between silvergrasses and pines, weaving in a manner that renders me ghostly on a mountaintop dulled to shadows and smoke. My senses are weaker than theirs--it’s hard hearing past my own breathing--so I don’t know if any are waiting for me out here in the dark. If they are, I’m prepared. I’ve spent years learning how to fight them.

Not by choice, of course. I once had a normal life as the daughter of a seamstress in our village. My sister and I grew up surrounded by fine needles and soft silks, in patterns both beautiful and ordinary, that we delivered all across the Central Province. But then the Kingdom of Night broke the Heavenly Order across the realms, destroyed the border wards that kept our realms separate, and demons--mo--began to invade the Kingdom of Rivers, the mortal world. Soon our emperor and his armies fell to the powerful demon queen, then province after province collapsed, and the immortals in the Kingdom of Sky raised the wards on their realm and left us on our own.

I was ten years old the night the ministry of my province dissolved. I swapped needles for knives, silks for talisman spells, and lost my father in a lesson I will never forget.

Nine years later, I am still alive.

And tonight, I will not be prey.

When the sound of rushing water threads through the trees and the ground begins to flatten, relief lightens my chest. I’ve survived another trip to the moon spring at the summit of the westernmost mountain range of our kingdom. I will harvest light lotuses: flowers that drink in the magic of stars and are rich with the life energy that fuels our mortal souls. I will return to my village of Xi’lin and grind the petals and seeds into an elixir.

And my mother will live for a few months more.

Waves lap at the root of a great willow, swallowing the grass and muddy banks at my feet. I push past the curtains of wisteria that grow thickly around the spring--and freeze.

Beneath the moonlight filtering through the fog, the water is red.

My senses sharpen. Too late, I catch the sweetly putrid stench in the breeze. Too late, I notice the shadow in the middle of the spring. As fear tightens my chest, I feel the press of its gaze upon me.

Demon.

Mo take on a human appearance; beneath their beauty are their true monstrous forms, yet on the surface, there isn’t much to differentiate them from mortals. This one has taken the form of a young man. Through the branches of the willow, I see the powerful muscles of his shoulders, the spill of his hair in the moonlight. He carries a fresh, half-eaten corpse in his arms, blood spattering his chest. I am relieved to see it. Only the young, lesser mo will consume mortal flesh. The Higher Ones are less inclined toward the taste of our flesh; they prefer our souls.

The young male holds his hand out toward me.

“Come.” His voice is song. The air heats with the signature dark energy of their kind, and I feel the power of his magic in that command. It’s a spell that mortals are powerless to resist.

Most mortals.

Unbeknownst to the mo, I’m holding Shield, the first of …