I put a hand on my chest, leaning against the wood panels of the stair wall. Rhy’s hand covered my own a heartbeat later. “That’s what I felt,” he said, “when I saw you smile that night we dined along the Sidra.
When your people are lying dead around you, don’t come crying to me...
The next time, Emissary, I’ll come say hello.
It’s never made any difference to me when it came to you. I’d still pick you. I’ll always pick you.
If you get the chance, teach it to any female who will take the time to listen.
Her eyes narrowed, the gold like living ember. He’d never seen anyone so beautiful. This witch had been crafted from the darkness between the stars.
Shivering, Elide rose. He seemed bigger with every step. But that wing remained extended, as if she were the animal in need of calming. As she reached his side, she could hardly breathe as she extended a hand and stroked the curving, scaly hide. It was surprisingly soft, like worn leather. And toasty, as if he were a furnace. Carefully, aware of the head he angled to watch her every move, she sat down against him, her back instantly warmed.
He kissed her thoroughly, lazily, as if he had a lifetime of kisses to look forward to. She liked that. A lot.
Do you even know how to laugh?
Celaena.” He stopped a few feet from the guards. His eyes were rich, molten brown. “Yes?” Her heartbeat steadied. “You look rather pretty today,” was all he said before the doors opened and they walked forward.
I am the dark lord, who stole away the bride of spring. I am a demon, and a nightmare, and I will meet a bad end. He is the golden prince – the hero who will get to keep you as his reward for not dying of stupidity and arrogance.
She wriggled the demon’s fingers a bit more. “It’d make a good back-scratcher.” Rowan only frowned. “Killjoy,” she said, and chucked the arm onto the torso of the Wyrdhound.
For you to have gotten here so fast, you’d have needed to fly,” he said to the messenger. “This must have been written before the battle even started this morning.” The messenger smirked. “I was handed two letters. One was for victory, the other defeat.” Bold – this messenger was bold, and arrogant, for someone at Darrow’s beck and call. “What’s your name?” “Nox Owen.” The messenger bowed at the waist. “From Perranth.
Because what if you did let someone in? And what if they saw everything, and still walked away? Who could blame them – who would want to bother with that sort of mess?” He flinched. The most powerful High Lord in history flinched.
Gavriel smiled at him. “Close the gate, Aedion,” was all his father said. And then Gavriel stepped beyond the gates. That golden shield spreading thin.
To listen to what I’d heard – as if I’d already learned everything I needed.
There will be a monument,” she said to Abraxos, to Manon. “Should you wish it, I will build a monument right there. So no one shall ever forget what was given. Who we have to thank.
From now on, there would be no other oaths but this, no other contracts, no other obligations. Never forgive, never forget.
Some things are more important than death.
We wait for the Queen of the Valg,” the spider purred, rubbing against the carving. “Who in this world calls herself Maeve.