His eyes were open when I nestled my head against his arm. Within the shelter of his wing, we watched each other. And I realized I might very well be content to do exactly that forever.
She was done making herself appear nice for men whom she had no interest in being nice to.
Even if it would leave Hollin with the right to the throne. Hollin, who had been sired by a Valg-infested man as well. Had the demon passed any traits to his brother? The boy had been beastly – but had he been human?
Celaena didn’t move. “Go to hell.
Because,” he went on, his eyes locked with mine, “I didn’t want you to fight alone. Or die alone.
So maybe it was the gods at work. Maybe it was some force beyond them, beyond mortal comprehension. Or maybe it was just for what and who Celaena would never be. Yrene.
The day I reached these shores, I cast aside that girl. And I will be damned if I let her reemerge. Or let someone tell me what to do with my life, my choices again.
They wouldn’t let her have a butter knife on her table, but they gave her access to this.
But no matter what I did, Elentiya, I want you to know that in the darkness of the past ten years, you were one of the bright lights for me. Do not let that light go out.” And before Celaena could reply, the princess was gone. There was nothing in the dark. As though Nehemia had never been. As though she’d made it all up. “Come back,” she whispered. “Please – come back.” But the darkness remained the same. And Nehemia was gone.
Will it every stop?” he mused, more to himself than me as another finger joined the one sliding in and out of me with taunting, indolent strokes. “Wanting you – every hour, every breath.
My brows now knotted. I read the next two words, then whipped my face toward him. “You look absolutely delicious today, Feyre?! That’s what you wrote?
If we’re equals, then I don’t understand why you’re still half clothed.
Maeve had harmed Rowan before. How many of his scars had she given him? “Stop it,” Celaena growled. “Not for all the world, Aelin? But what about for Prince Rowan?
You’re my mirror. You said so yourself.
The Sword of Orynth,” Aedion drawled. “A gift from His Majesty upon my first victory.” Everyone knew that sword. It had been an heirloom of Terrasen’s royal family, passed from ruler to ruler. By right, it was Celaena’s. It had belonged to her father. For Aedion to possess it, considering what that sword now did, the lives it took, was a slap in the face to Celaena and to her family.
Here – here was the most powerful High Lord ever born. The face of dreams and nightmares.
I was going to eat him alive.
I’m his subject, and he is my High Lord – ” “You are no one’s subject.” I went rigid at the flash of teeth, the smoke-like wings that flared out. “I will say this once – and only once,” Rhysand purred, stalking to the map on the wall. “You can be a pawn, be someone’s reward, and spend the rest of your immortal life bowing and scraping and pretending you’re less than him, than Ianthe, than any of us.
Because I know where everything in this room is. All the books, the papers-and the moment they start cleaning, those things get hopelessly organized and tucked away, and I can never find them again.
While I might not have been myself, Lucien and I both told you to stay in your room,” Tamlin said, so calmly that I wanted to rip out my hair. I couldn’t help it. Didn’t even try to fight the red-hot temper that razed my senses. “Faerie pig!” I yelled, and Lucien howled, almost tipping back in his chair. At the sight of Tamlin’s growing smile, I left.