Energy Series, #3
When Cassondra took Wilma’s energy, Lena’s mission changed. Only revenge matters now.
For the past year, Lena and her small army have tried to finish what they started, beginning with Earth: close the lines between worlds and end Exemplar’s hold on humanity. Unfortunately, the task is daunting. But unlike before, Lena has no problem pulling the trigger. As soon as her army takes care of threats in Earth, Lena goes back to Arcus—only to find out where the next war will be.
Tarek will do anything to mend Lena’s heart, even while she pushes him away. Only death for a death seems to ease the pain tearing her apart. But as much as he desires to heal the woman he loves, Tarek has to make sure Arcus stays safe from extermination.
After an attack, refugees Tarek has sworn to protect are terrified Exemplian authority will destroy their new home. Not able to defeat Exemplar’s direct assault, only one solution remains—a solution that will more than likely end in catastrophe: take the war to Exemplar and shut down their power source.
Lena doesn’t see disaster for her army—she sees victory and demands to go, refusing to miss a chance to kill more Exemplians.
While Lena hopes to save Wilma’s energy during the impossible mission, Tarek fears Lena will lose more than the war.
If she fails, Lena may lose herself completely.
Born in Pennsylvania, Lynn spent most of her childhood, especially during math class, daydreaming. Today, she spends an obscene amount of time in her head, only now she writes down all the cool stuff.
With a degree in English Literature, Lynn used college as an excuse to read for four years straight. She lives in the Pocono Mountains with her husband, raising the four most incredible human beings on the planet. She writes young adult novels, both fantasy and contemporary.
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OTHER BOOKS To Enjoy By LYNN VROMAN
(click on cover)
TAINTED ENERGY (ENERGY SERIES, #1)
LOST ENERGY (ENERGY SERIES, #2)
FRACTURED ENERGY (ENERGY SERIES, #3)
“How old are you?” All this time, I’d never wondered. His face and body were a lie, a defiant snub at aging.
He never opened his eyes, his mouth pursed, still in deep thought. I figured he’d ignore me, whatever played in the forefront of his mind more important. But he did answer. “I don’t know. This cycle? I think… eighty-three, give or take a few years.”
I gasped. Eighty-three? Without thinking it through, I moved to slide a finger down his smooth cheek, a few days’ beard soft and scratchy against my fingertips. “My beautiful old man.” Not mine anymore.
He said nothing, motionless as stone.
Not mine, but I’d change that. I would. If only I knew how…
His rejection charred my skin. I pulled my fingers away from his face, my attention on his profile. “Ask another question?”
“Do I have a choice?’
“Well, then…” His eyes remained closed, jaw tight, and dimples a memory.
“When you came looking for me, if I were an eight-three-year-old woman, with wrinkles and a cane, would you have still fallen in love…you know…with me?” I pulled the blanket up to my chin, hating the heat, craving the shield.
“I’ve seen you at eighty-three years old.” He opened his eyes and glanced down at his lap. “I’ve seen you at a hundred fifty years old.”
“Yes, but I can almost guarantee that age looks a hell of a lot better in Exemplar, nothing like the old ladies back home.” The blanket stayed clenched in my hands, like a grip on a dagger hilt, hoping it’d save me. “But…if you hadn’t found me until later, like Oren did Grace, would you have loved me?”
An eternity passed, a lifetime. Finally, he turned to me. His eyes were alive, melting my heart, my blanket dagger useless. He slid closer and pulled the blanket down until his palm pressed against my heart. As he did all those years ago, when I demanded he answer another accusation: I’m not her.
The thrumming echoed from my chest to his palm, breathing no longer necessary.
Those gray eyes stayed on his hand, the bridge between my body and his. “Your face…to me, the most beautiful creation, whether smooth with youth or lined with wisdom. But…your heart…you…both fill and empty me. I’d love you however you are, whoever you are.” His warm fingers kneaded my skin, branding me, burning. “Because in here is my life, my everything.”