top of page

READ THE FIRST TWO CHAPTERS: The Souls of Us (THOU Trilogy, #3), by Sydney Paige Richardson

The tale of two sisters ends this Tuesday with Sydney Paige Richardson's highly-anticipated third book in The Halves of Us Trilogy, THE SOULS OF US.

A single way, a single heart. A single being, broken apart.

Pre-order your copy here in time for Robinson's release day on Tuesday, May 26th!

The Souls of Us (THOU Trilogy, #3), by Sydney Paige Richardson

The battle has ended. The Sights have vanished. Aura is dead.

Adie and the survivors returned to Giriveen in hopes of rebuilding, but they are stricken by Adie's secret deal with Wendelone when she comes for payment. Auralee returns to the tower, planning her vengeance for Aura's death. But when hidden tunnels within the tower unravel secrets, and the truth about the darkness on Thindoral, Auralee questions her position.

When true evil seeks them, the sisters are forced to come to a truce. Together they discover the wicked truth of the original curse and its creator, proving there is no hiding from Fate.

Hypnoa's warnings hold true. Remember, a curse is deadliest when it is laced with love…

Chapter One

Auralee ran through the halls of the tower. Her heart thundered in her ears. “Jihnim?” She screamed until her throat burned as she ran from floor to floor.

No one. No one is here!

I’m alone. Her vision blurred as tears pooled in her eyes.

Mother is dead.

A hollowness built inside her, growing with the empty halls of the tower that surrounded her. “Jihnim?” she called out again. “Where are you?” Her voice lowered to a whimper.

This time, voices responded. They whispered in her head, coming in and out of focus. Smoke rose from her skin as a heavy heat pumped through her veins.

Auralee looked at her hands, as a blackness grew from her fingertips, spreading across her palms, weaving up her arms like a web that faded as they neared her shoulders. She trembled.

The whispers collided, creating a chorus of fear that made her heart feel as though it would burst from her chest. She tried to focus on their words, but each time one felt like they made sense, it fell away into the song of the others.

Then, it was as though the fog had lifted, and the voices became clear, growing louder, calling her name.

Her hands covered her ears, but it was no use. The whispers became shouts, telling her what to do. “Kill them.”

She winced.

“Punish them,” another voice cooed.

Auralee massaged her temples.

“Listen, Auralee! Kill them! Kill them all!”

Auralee screamed back at them, the veins popping in her neck as blackness took over her eyes.

The voices disappeared.

The heat vanished.

Her gaze fell to her hands—her pale skin had returned.

The tower was quiet, except for her heavy breathing.

What is happening?

The moment the cell door shot open, she had transported herself to the top of the tower. But it was empty. Of course it was. Mother had gone to alternate Thindoral!

She tried again and again to transport herself to alternate Thindoral. But her powers wouldn’t take her there.

She called on the Sights, but nothing responded. Not even Jihnim.

Defeated and lost, she neared the bottom floor of the tower. The two front doors creaked open, beckoning her.

“Auralee,” a whisper returned.

She narrowed her eyes as she approached them, her dress shifting into black leather pants and halter. A sword appeared at her side.

As she cleared the door and exited the place that was once her prison, hot, dry air met her. She inhaled, closing her eyes.

“Auralee…” A voice on the wind danced around her.

She exhaled and ran toward the whisper. The stone wall that once surrounded the tower had vanished, but the black forest had not.

The trees had overgrown, reaching toward the tower as though they were trying to feed off the power that grew in its walls. The roots twisted and knotted together, weaving in and out of the ground in shapes that taunted her.

She ran past them.

She ran past the sudden trails that appeared, ignoring their taunts as the whisper still called her name. Branches swatted at her cheeks and tangled in her hair, but she didn’t care. She struck at them with her sword as she cleared her own path.

The whisper called her. It sang her name, growing louder as she ran as though to tell her she was heading in the right direction.

Her foot caught a branch that slithered along the ground, planting her face-down into the dirt.

She lay still; a sob escaped her as she pushed herself up, sitting on the ground and rubbing her jaw. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, and red sparks surrounded her jaw, snapping it back into place and sewing up her busted lip.

A crackling sound moved around her as the roots on the ground continued to shift, nearing her. They encircled her, swirling and twirling. She froze as some went underneath her, working together to lift her to her feet.

A soft, airy voice emanated from behind her. “So good to finally meet you.”

She turned as the roots stilled.

There stood a creature with long, flowing white hair that came to her hips. She was naked, her skin painted with indigo, sapphire, and cobalt that swirled together, forming circular patterns across her limbs.


A smile inched across her face as her large white eyes narrowed. “I’m?”

“Wendelone.” Auralee gulped. “My mother spoke of a voice like yours.” She held out her hand, her sword flying up from the ground to her grip. She pointed the silver tip at Wendelone. She started it all!

She lunged forward, her blade ready to pierce Wendelone’s heart. But a force stopped her, freezing her mid-thrust. Her face scrunched, and she growled as she continued to try and plunge forward, to no avail. Auralee screamed as Wendelone smirked at her.

“I think that’s enough of that,” Wendelone said.

Auralee suddenly jerked forward, and her sword disappeared. How did she do that? She glared back at Wendelone as she circled her. “What do you want?”

“Silly girl,” Wendelone pouted.

“Are you going to kill me?” Auralee’s heart leapt in her chest as she spoke. Every inch of her wanted to run back to the tower. Back to the place that had once confined her.