Rowan hadn't meant to finish the entire book in one night.
He had work the next morning—some tedious office job he couldn't even bring himself to care about anymore. He'd promised himself he'd read just a chapter or two before bed, maybe three if it got exciting. But The Crimson Crown had a way of dragging you under, pulling you into its dark and ruthless world until you forgot about things like time, or sleep, or the fact that you still had to be functional in the morning.
When the final sentence hit—an ambiguous cliffhanger that hinted at even more tragedy to come—Rowan had closed the book with trembling hands.
"Damn," he'd whispered into the quiet of their tiny apartment.
He'd hated the ending. Loved it too. It was the kind of story that made you feel hollow and alive at the same time, every ounce of joy wrung out of you by the end. It was also the kind of story Rowan had devoured their whole life—complex worlds, morally gray heroes, betrayals, magic, bloodshed.
Rowan wasn't a particularly special person. Just someone who'd spent most of their life with their nose buried in books, searching for a spark of excitement in an otherwise ordinary existence. At twenty-seven, he still hadn't figured out what he were supposed to do with his life, and fantasy novels had become his favorite escape.
That's all The Crimson Crown had been: an escape. A grim, gritty one, sure, but escapism nonetheless. Rowan had turned out the light that night thinking about the characters—the brave and tragic heroes, the manipulative villains, the nameless soldiers who met gruesome ends in the chaos of war.
They hadn't expected to wake up as one of those soldiers.
[please help me,by adding it to your library]