When you shift, will your hawk form be plucked, then?
You can’t just toss us out. What will we do? Where will we go?” “I hear hell is particularly nice at this time of year.
The Crown Prince tipped his head back to the sky and roared, and it was the battle cry of a god. Then the glass castle shattered.
You are my Fireheart.
A moment of kindness. From a young woman who ended lives to a young woman who saved them.
Magical things rarely age as normal objects do.
But Rowan flicked her chin, and she knew he understood what it meant, to have summoned even a droplet to her hand. To feel her mother smiling at her from realms away. She grinned at Rowan through her tears, and sent the droplet splashing onto his face. Rowan tossed her into the pool. A moment later, laughing, he jumped in himself.
She pulled off the ring. “So that was what he wanted. I honestly expected something grander.
The power did not belong to the High Lords. Not any longer. It belonged to me – as I belonged only to me, as my future was mine to decide, to forge.
I hope you found peace, my brother. And in the Afterworld, I hope you find her again.
You bought chocolate – as far as I’m concerned, you’re my new favorite person.
No flicker of amusement, no hint of fear. The woman could give Rowan a run for his money for sheer iciness.
Months of crawling out of that abyss he’d shoved her into.
They’d been forged of the same ore, two sides of the same golden, scarred coin. She’d know it when she spied him atop the execution plataform. She couldn’t explain it. No one could understand that instant bond, that soul-deep assurance and rightness, unless they, too, had experienced it. But she owned no explanations to anyone – not about Aedion.
Immortality is not as much of a gift as mortals would believe. It can breed monsters that even you would be sick to learn about. Imagine the sadists you’ve encountered – and then imagine them with millennia to hone their craft and warped desires.
Elain had always been gentle and sweet – and I had considered it a different sort of strength. A better strength. To look at the hardness of the world and choose, over and over, to love, to be kind. She had been always so full of light. Perhaps.
Most men, she’d decided, were bastards of varying degrees.
She’d entered a city made entirely of leather and paper. Celaena put a hand against her heart.
What brings loyalty beyond death, undimming despite the years. What remains unwavering in the face of hopelessness.”... Through love, all is possible.
He supposed he’d learned that strength could be hidden beneath the most unlikely faces.