Just one, for their entire lives.
He hadn’t wept when Nehemia died, or when he’d thrown Celaena in the dungeons, or even when she’d returned with Grave’s head, utterly different from the woman he had grown to love so fiercely. But when Chaol walked out, leaving that damning will behind him, he didn’t even make it to his own room. He barely made it into an empty broom closet before the sobs hit.
Sometimes, the wicked will tell us things just to confuse us – to haunt our thoughts long after we face them. He would be delighted to know you’re still fretting over whatever nonsense he said... Don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’s still troubling you; put those thoughts from your mind.
Our tongues danced – not a waltz or a minuet, but a war dance, a death dance of bone drums and screaming fiddles.
Sam. What would he make of all this? If he’d been alive when she was captured, he would have had her out of the royal dungeons before the king even got word of her imprisonment. But Sam, like her, had been betrayed – and sometimes the absence of him hit her so hard that she forgot how to breathe. She touched a lower note. It was deep and throbbing, full of sorrow and anger.
When we die,” she said, “I don’t think the gods will even know what to do with us.” Sam.
No human who goes in ever comes out.
And wolves of water broke from behind me. The soldiers whirled, fleeing. But my wolves were faster. I was faster as I ran with them, in the heart of the pack. Wolf after wolf roared out of the Sidra, as colossal as the one I had once killed, pouring into the streets, racing upward.
Then the royal party arrived. She didn’t know where to look; at the King of Adarlan, at the small, too-familiar prison wagon in the center of the riders... Or at Dorian, riding at his father’s side, that black collar around his neck and nothing human in his face.
I’m thinking that I must have been a fool in love to allow myself to be shown so little of the Spring Court. I’m thinking there’s a great deal of that territory I was never allowed to see or hear about and maybe I would have lived in ignorance forever like some pet.
And if I get you all to myself for the rest of eternity, then I won’t mind that at all.
She made plans for all of them – and none fore herself.
She’s your mate,” Amren bit at me. “Not your spy. Go get her.” “She is my mate. And my spy,” I said too quietly. “And she is the High Lady of the Night Court.
Small white flowers lay at the foot of her cot, and many infant-sized footprints led in and out of the tent.
A world divided was not a world that could thrive.
Rhysand summoned a mug of hot tea from nowhere and handed it to me. “Drink it.
He spoke the common tongue, and his accent was subtle – lovely, if she was feeling generous enough to admit it. A soft, rolling purr. “Fair enough. But what am I to call you?” She gripped the saddle but didn’t mount it. “Rowan.” His tattoo seemed to soak up the sun, so dark it looked freshly inked.
I trained,” she said dully. “For years. We aren’t all lucky enough to have a magic map inked on our hands. Some of us had to climb to the top.
Aedion didn’t care. Not with a row of swords before them, gleaming like the teeth of some mighty beast. The commander’s hand came down. And was ripped clean off by a ghost leopard. For Evangeline, for her freedom, for her future. Where Lysandra lunged, slashing with claws and fangs, soldiers died.
She glanced again at her hair and nails. A very unkempt, wild-looking pet. She strode into her dressing room. She’d decide what to do about Doneval and his agenda later. For now, not even the rain would keep her from a little pampering.