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Sarah J. Maas

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“I lingered at the edge of an open field of lanky meadow buttercups. The vibrant green-and-yellow field was deserted. Behind me arose a gnarled crab apple tree in full, glorious bloom, the petals of its flowers littering the shaded bench on which I'd been about to sit. A breeze set the branches rustling, a waterfall of white petals flittering down like snow.”

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Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“Her magic sent him sprawling, and it then hurled into Rhysand again - so hard that his head cracked against the stones and the knife dropped from his splayed fingers. No one made a move to help him, and she struck him once more with her power. The red marble splintered where he hit it, spiderwebbing toward me. With wave after wave she hit him. Rhys groaned. "Stop," I breathed, blood filling my mouth as I strained a hand to reach her feet. "Please." Rhys's arms buckled as he fought to rise, and blood dripped from his nose, splattering on the marble. His eyes met mine. The bond between us went taut. I flashed between my body and his, seeing myself through his eyes, bleeding and broken and sobbing. I snapped back into my own mind as Amarantha turned to me again. "Stop? Stop? Don't pretend you care, human," she crooned, and curled her finger. I arched my back, my spine straining to the point of cracking, and Rhysand bellowed my name as I lost my grip on the room.”

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Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“Faeries began calling foul play, demanding Tamlin be released from the curse, calling her a liar. Through the haze, I saw Rhysand crouching by Tamlin. Not to help him, but to grab the- "You are all pigs - all scheming, filthy pigs." Then Rhysand was on his feet, my bloody knife in his hands. He launched himself at Amarantha, swift as a shadow, the ash dagger aimed at her throat. She lifted a hand - not even bothering to look - and he was blasted back by a wall of white light. But the pain paused for a second, long enough for me to see him hit the ground and rise again and lunge for her - with hands that now ended in talons. He slammed into the invisible wall Amarantha had raised around herself, and my pain flickered as she turned to him. "You traitorous piece of filth," she seethed at Rhysand. "You're just as bad as the human beasts." One by one, as if a hand were shoving them in, his talons pushed back into his skin, leaving blood in their wake. He swore, low and vicious. "You were planning this all along.”

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“Rhys kept starting at the table as he said, 'I didn't know. That you were with Tamlin. That you were staying at the Spring Court. Amarantha sent me that day after the Summer Solstice because I'd been so successful on Calanmai. I was prepared to mock him, maybe pick a fight. But then I got into that room, and the scent was familiar, but hidden... And then I saw the plate, and felt the glamour, and... There you were. Living in my second-most enemy's house. Dining with him. Reeking of his scent. Looking at him like... Like you loved him.' The whites of his knuckles showed. 'And I decided that I had to scare Tamlin. I had to scare you, and Lucien, but mostly Tamlin. Because I saw how he looked at you, too. So what I did that day...' His lips were pale, tight. 'I broke into your mind and held it enough that you felt it, that it terrified you, hurt you. I made Tamlin beg- as Amarantha had made me beg, to show him how powerless he was to save you. And I prayed my performance was enough to get him to send you away. Back to the human realm, away from Amarantha. Because she was going to find you. If you broke that curse, she was going to find you and kill you. 'But I was so selfish- I was so stupidly selfish that I couldn't walk away without knowing your name. And you were looking at me like I was a monster, so I told myself it didn't matter, anyway. But you lied when I asked. I knew you did. I had your mind in my hands, and you had the defiance and foresight to lie to my face. So I walked away from you again. I vomited my guts up as soon as I left.' My lips wobbled, and I pressed them together. 'I checked back once. To ensure you were gone. I went with them the day they sacked the manor- to make my performance complete. I told Amarantha the name of that girl, thinking you'd invented it. I had no idea... I had no idea she'd sent her cronies to retrieve Clare. But if I admitted my lie...' He swallowed hard. 'I broke into Clare's head when they brought her Under the Mountain. I took away her pain, and told her to scream when expected to. So they... they did those things to her, and I tried to make it right, but... After a week, I couldn't let them do it. Hurt her like that anymore. So while they tortured her, I slipped into her mind again and ended it. She didn't feel any pain. She felt none of what they did to her, even at the end. But... But I still see her. And my men. And the others that I killed for Amarantha.' Two tears slid down his cheeks, swift and cold. He didn't wipe them away as he said, 'I thought it was done after that. With Clare's death. Amarantha believed you were dead. So you were safe, and far away, and my people were safe, and Tamlin had lost, so... It was done. We were done. But then... I was in the back of the throne room that day the Attor brought you in. And I have never known such horror, Feyre, as I did when I watched you make that bargain. Irrational, stupid terror- I didn't know you. I didn't even know your name. But I thought of those painter's hands, the flowers I'd seen you create. And how she'd delight in breaking your fingers apart. I had to stand and watch as the Attor and its cronies beat you. I had to watch the disgust and hatred on your face as you looked at me, watched me threaten to shatter Lucien's mind. And then- then I learned your name. Hearing you say it... it was like an answer to a question I'd been asking for five hundred years.”

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Book:A Court of Mist and Fury
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“I saw you through your dreams- and I hoarded the images, sorting through them over and over again, trying to place where you you were, who you were. But you had such horrible nightmares, and the creatures belonged to all courts. I'd wake up with your scent in my nose, and it would haunt me all day, every step. But then one night, you dreamed of standing amongst green hills, seeing unlit bonfires for Calanmai.' There was such silence in my head. 'I knew there was only one celebration that large; I knew those hills- and I knew you'd probably be there. So I told Amarantha...' Rhys swallowed. 'I told her that I wanted to go to the Spring Court for the celebration, to spy on Tamlin and see if anyone showed up wishing to conspire with him. We were so close to the deadline for the curse that she was paranoid- restless. She told me to bring back traitors. I promised her I would.' His eyes lifted to mine again. 'I got there, and I could smell you. So I tracked that scent, and... And there you were. Human- utterly human, and being dragged away by those piece-of-shit picts, who wanted to...' He shook his head. 'I debated slaughtering them then and there, but then they shoved you, and I just... moved. I started speaking without knowing what I was saying, only that you were there, and I was touching you, and...' He loosed a shuddering breath. There you are. I've been looking for you. His first words to me- not a lie at all, not a threat to keep those faeries away. Thank you for finding her for me. I had the vague feeling of the world slipping out from under my feet like sand washing away from the shore. 'You looked at me,' Rhys said, 'and I knew you had no idea who I was. That I might have seen your dreams, but you hadn't seen mine. And you were just... human. You were so young, and breakable, and had no interest in me whatsoever, and I knew that if I stayed too long, someone would see and report back, and she'd find you. So I started walking away, thinking you'd be glad to get rid of me. But then you called after me, like you couldn't let go of me just yet, whether you knew it or not. And I knew... I knew we were on dangerous ground, somehow. I knew that I could never speak to you, or see you, or think of you again. 'I didn't want to know why you were in Prythian; I didn't even want to know your name. Because seeing you in my dreams had been one thing, but in person... Right then, deep down, I think I knew what you were. And I didn't let myself admit it, because it there was the slightest chance that you were my mate... They would have done such unspeakable things to you, Feyre. 'So I let you walk away. I told myself after you were gone that maybe... maybe the Cauldron had been kind, and not cruel, for letting me see you. Just once. A gift for what I was enduring. And when you were gone, I found those three picts. I broke into their minds, reshaping their lives, their histories, and dragged them before Amarantha. I made them confess to conspiring to find other rebels that night. I made them lie and claim that they hated her. I watched her carve them up while they were still alive, protesting their innocence. I enjoyed it- because I knew what they had wanted to do to you. And knew that it would have paled in comparison to what Amarantha would have done if she'd found you.' I wrapped a hand around my throat. I had my reasons to be out there, he'd once said to me Under the Mountain. Do not think, Feyre, that it did not cost me.”

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“Thank you for warming the bed,' I said into the dimness. His back was to me, but I heard him clearly as he said. 'Amarantha never once thanked me for that.' Any warmth leeched away. 'She didn't suffer enough.' Not even close, for what she had done. To me, to him, to Clare, to so many others.”

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“I had done everything- everything for that love. I had ripped myself to shreds, I had killed innocents and debased myself, and he had sat beside Amarantha on that throne. And he couldn't do anything, hadn't risked it- hadn't risked being caught until there was one night left, and all he'd wanted to do wasn't free me, but fuck me, and- ... And when Amarantha had broken me, when she had snapped my bones and made my blood boil in its veins, he'd just knelt and begged her. He hadn't tried to kill her, hadn't crawled for me. Yes, he'd fought for me- but I'd fought harder for him. ... And he had the nerve once his powers were back to shove me into a cage. The nerve to say I was no longer useful; I was to be cloistered for his peace of mind. He'd given me everything I'd needed to become myself, to feel safe, and when he got what he wanted- when he got his power back, his lands back... he stopped trying. He was still good, still Tamlin, but he was just... wrong. And then I was sobbing through my clenched teeth, the tears washing away that infected wound, and I didn't care that Cassian was there, or Rhys or Azriel.”

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“Some small part of me whispered that I could survive Amarantha; I could survive leaving Tamlin; I could survive transitioning into this new, strange body... But that empty, cold hole in my chest... I wasn't sure I could survive that. Even in the years I'd been one bad week away from starvation, that part of me had been full of colour, of light. Maybe becoming a faerie had broken it. Maybe Amarantha had broken it. Or maybe I had broken it, when I shoved that dagger into the hearts of two innocent faeries and their blood had warmed my hands.”

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“When Amarantha made me kill those two faeries, if the third hadn't been Tamlin, I would have put the dagger in my own heart at the end.' Rhys went still. 'I knew there was no coming back from what I'd done,' I said, wondering if the blue flame in the Carver's eyes might burn my ruined soul to ash. 'And once I broke their curse, once I knew I'd saved them, I just wanted enough time to turn that dagger on myself. I only decided I wanted to live when she killed me, and I knew I had not finished whatever... whatever it was I'd been born to do.' I dared a glance at Rhys, and there was something like devastation on his beautiful face. It was gone in a blink.”

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Book:A Court of Mist and Fury
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“I didn't think I could get through that dinner.' 'What do you mean?' He'd been rather... calm. Contained. 'Your sisters mean well, or one of them does. But seeing them, sitting at that table... I hadn't realised it would hit me as strongly. How young you were. How they didn't protect you.' 'I managed just fine.' 'We owe them our gratitude for letting us use this house,' he said quietly, 'but it will be a long while yet before I can look at your sisters without wanting to roar at them.' 'A part of me feels the same way,' I admitted, nestling down into the blankets. 'But if I hadn't gone into those woods, if they hadn't let me go out there alone... You would still be enslaved. And perhaps Amarantha would now be readying her forces to wipe out these lands.”

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“Every year that I was Under the Mountain and Starfall came around, Amarantha made sure that I... serviced her. The entire night. Starfall is no secret, even to outsiders- even the Court of Nightmares crawls out of the Hewn City to look up at the sky. So she knew... She knew what it meant to me.' I stopped hearing the celebrations around us. 'I'm sorry.' It was all I could offer. 'I got through it by reminding myself that my friends were safe, that Velaris was safe. Nothing else mattered, so long as I had that. She could use my body however she wanted. I didn't care.' 'So why aren't you down there with them?' I asked, even as I tucked the horror of what had been done to him into my heart. 'They don't know- what she did to me on Starfall. I don't want it to ruin their night.' 'I don't think it would. They'd be happy if you let them shoulder the burden.' 'The same way you rely on others to help with your own troubles?' We started at each other, close enough to share breath. And maybe all those words bottled up in me... Maybe I didn't need them right now.”

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“She had no idea that every second, every breath, I plotted her death. I was willing to make it my last stand: to kill her at any cost, even if it meant shredding my wings to break free. ... 'And I was ready- I was so damned ready to make an end of it, and wait for Cassian and Azriel and Mor on the other side. There was nothing but my rage, and my relief that my friends weren't there.”

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“I knew in that moment there was nothing I wouldn't do to keep her from looking at my court again. From looking too long at who I was and what I loved. So I told myself that it was a new war, a different sort of battle. And that night when she kept turning her attention to me, I knew what she wanted. I knew it wasn't about fucking me so much as it was about getting revenge at my father's ghost. But if that was what she wanted, then that was what she would get. I made her beg, and scream, and used my lingering powers to make it so good for her that she wanted more. Craved more.' I gripped the counter to keep from sliding to the ground. 'Then she cursed Tamlin. And my other great enemy became the one loophole that might free us all. Every night that I spent with Amarantha, I knew that she was half wondering if I'd try to kill her. I couldn't use my powers to harm her, and she had shielded herself against physical attacks. But for fifty years- whenever I was inside her, I'd think about killing her. She had no idea. None. Because I was so good at my job that she thought I enjoyed it, too. So she began to trust me- more than the others. Especially when I proved what I could do to her enemies. But I was glad to do it. I hated myself, but I was glad to do it. After a decade, I stopped expecting to see my friends or my people again. I forgot what their faces looked like. And I stopped hoping.”

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“It had become out unspoken agreement- not to let Amarantha win by acknowledging that she still tormented us in our dreams and waking hours. It was easier to not have to explain, anyway. To not have to tell him that though I'd freed him, saved his people and all of Prythian from Amarantha... I'd broken myself apart. And I didn't think even eternity would be long enough to fix me.”

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“Beside me, the light had winked out of Rhys's eyes. What I'd asked about Amarantha, what horrors I'd made him remember... A confession for a confession- I thought he'd done it for my sake. Maybe he had things he needed to voice, couldn't voice to these people, not without causing them more pain and guilt.”

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“Amren said, 'When Rhys came back, after Amarantha, he was a ghost. He pretended he wasn't, but he was. You made him come alive again.' Words stalled, and I didn't want to think about it, not when what ever good I'd done- whatever good we'd done for each other- might have been wiped away by what I'd said to him.”

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“Pressed closer, loathing every place where our bodies touched. I didn't know how Rhys had endured it- endured Amarantha for five decades. 'You look beautiful today,' Tamlin said. 'Thank you,' I made myself peer up into his face. 'Lucien- Lucien told me that you didn't complete the rite at Calanmai. That you refused.' And you let Ianthe take him into that cave instead. His throat bobbed. 'I couldn't stomach it.' And yet you could stomach making a deal with Hybern, as if I were a stolen item to be returned. 'Maybe this morning was not just a blessing for me,' I offered. A stroke of his hand down my back was his own reply.”

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“You played the villain convincingly enough, Jurian,' Rhys purred. Jurian snapped his face towards Rhys. 'You should have looked. I expected you to look into my mind, to see the truth. Why didn't you?' Rhys was quiet for a long moment. Then he said softly, 'Because I didn't want to see her.' See any trace of Amarantha.”

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“You came to claim Tamlin?' Amarantha said- it wasn't a question, but a challenge. 'Well, as it happens, I'm bored to tears of his sullen silence. I was worried when he didn't flinch while I played with darling Clare, when he didn't even show those lovely claws... 'But I'll make a bargain with you, human,' she said, and warning bells pealed in my mind. Unless your life depends on it, Alis had said. 'You complete three tasks of my choosing- three tasks to prove how deep that human sense of loyalty and love runs, and Tamlin is yours. Just three little challenges to prove your dedication, to prove to me, to darling Jurian, that your kind can indeed love true, and you can have your High Lord.' She turned to Tamlin. 'Consider it a favour, High Lord- these human dogs can make our kind so lust-blind that we lose all common sense. Better for you to see her true nature now.' 'I want his curse broken, too,' I blurted. She raised a brow, her smile growing, revealing far too many of those white teeth. 'I complete all three of your tasks, and his curse is broken, and we- and all his court- can leave here. And remain free forever,' I added. Magic was specific, Alis had said- that was how Amarantha had tricked them. I wouldn't let loopholes be my downfall. 'Of course,' Amarantha purred. 'I'll throw in another element, if you don't mind- just to see if you're worthy of one of our kind, if you're smart enough to deserve him.' Jurian's eye swivelled wildly, and she clicked her tongue at it. The eye stopped moving. 'I'll give you a way out girl,' she went on. 'You'll complete all the tasks- or, when you can't stand it anymore, all you have to do is answer one question.' I could barely hear her above the blood pounding in my ears. 'A riddle. You solve the riddle, and his curse will be broken. Instantaneously. I won't even need to lift my finger and he'll be free. Say the right answer, and he's yours. You can answer it at any time- but if you answer incorrectly...' She pointed, and I didn't need to turn to know she gestured to Clare. I turned her words over, looking for traps and loopholes within her phrasing. But it all sounded right. 'And what if I fail your tasks?' Her smile became almost grotesque, and she rubbed a thumb across the dome of her ring. 'If you fail a task, there won't be anything left of you for me to play with.”

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“We made a bargain,' Rhysand said. I flinched as he brushed a stray lock of my hair from my face. He ran his fingers down my cheek- a gentle caress. The throne room was all too quiet as he spoke his next words to Tamlin. 'One week with me at the Night Court every month in exchange for my healing services after her first task.' He raised my left arm to reveal the tattoo, whose ink didn't shine as much as the paint on my body. 'For the rest of her life,' he added casually, but his eyes were now upon Amarantha. The Faerie Queen straightened a little bit- even Jurian's eye seemed fixed on me, on Rhysand. For the rest of my life- he said it as if it were going to be a long, long while. He thought I was going to beat her tasks. I stared at his profile, at the elegant nose and sensuous lips. Games- Rhysand liked to play games, and it seemed I was now to be a key player in whatever this one was.”

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“I'm sorry- that she still punished you for helping me during my task. I heard-' My throat tightened. 'I heard what she made Tamlin do to you.' He shrugged, but I added, 'Thank you. For helping me, I mean.' He walked to the door, and for the first time I noticed how stiffly he moved. 'It's why I couldn't come sooner,' he said, his throat bobbing. 'She used her- used our powers to keep my back from healing. I haven't been able to move until today.' Breathing became a little difficult. 'Here,' I said, removing his cloak and standing to hand it to him. The sudden cold sent gooseflesh rippling over me. 'Keep it. I swiped it off a dozing guard on my way in here.' In the dim light, the embroidered symbol of a sleeping dragon glimmered. Amarantha's coat of arms. I grimaced, but shrugged it on. 'Besides,' Lucien added with a smirk, 'I've seen enough of you through that gown to last a lifetime.' I flushed as he opened the door. 'Wait,' I said. 'Is- is Tamlin all right? I mean... I mean that spell Amarantha has him under to make him so silent...' 'There's no spell. Hasn't it occurred to you that Tamlin is keeping quiet to avoid telling Amarantha which form of your torment affects him most?' No, it hadn't. 'He's playing a dangerous game, though,' Lucien said, slipping out the door. 'We all are.”

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“So,' he said wearily,' here we are, with the fate of our immortal world in the hands of an illiterate human.' His laugh was unpleasant as he hung his head, cupping his forehead in a hand, and closed his eyes. 'What a mess.' Part of me searched for the words to wound him in his vulnerability, but the other half recalled all that he had said, all that he had done, but his head had snapped to the door before he'd kissed me. He'd known Amarantha was coming. Maybe he'd done it to make her jealous, but maybe... If he hadn't been kissing me, if he hadn't shown up and interrupted us, I would have gone out into that throne room covered in smudged paint. And everyone- especially Amarantha- would have known what I'd been up to. It wouldn't have taken much to figure out whom I'd been with, especially not once they saw the paint on Tamlin. I didn't want to consider what the punishment might have been. Regardless of his motives or his methods, Rhysand was keeping me alive. And he'd done so even before I set foot Under the Mountain.”

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“Humans all look alike to me.' Amarantha gave him a saccharine smile. 'And what about faeries?' Rhysand bowed again- so smooth it looked like a dance. 'Among a sea of mundane faces, yours is a work of art.' Had I not been straddling the line between life and death, I might have snorted. Humans all look alike... I didn't believe him for a second. Rhysand knew exactly how I looked- he'd recognised me that day at the manor.”

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Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“And would could Amarantha possibly have to test me about?' I didn't balk from that violet stare. Amarantha's whore, Lucien had once called him. 'You lied to her. About Clare. You knew very well what I looked like.' Rhysand sat up in a fluid movement and braced his forearms on his thighs. Such grace contained in such a powerful form. I was slaughtering in the battlefield before you were even born, he'd once said to Lucien. I didn't doubt it. 'Amarantha plays her games,' he said simply, 'and I play mine. It gets rather boring down here, day after day.”

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“My breath caught in my throat. 'Lucien.' Lucien lay chained to the centre of the floor on the other side of the chamber, his remaining russet eyes so wide that it was surrounded with white. The metal one spun as if set wild; his brutal scar was stark against his pale skin. Again he was to be Amarantha's toy to torment.”

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“Rhysand chuckled. 'If you're that desperate for release, you should have asked me.' 'Pig,' I snapped, covering my breasts with the folds of my gown. With a few easy steps, he crossed the distance between us and pinned my arms to the wall. My bones groaned. I could have sworn shadow-talons dug into the stones beside my head. 'Do you actually intend to put yourself at my mercy, or are you truly that stupid?' His voice was composed of sensuous, bone-breaking ire. 'I'm not your slave.' 'You're a fool, Feyre. Do you have any idea what could have happened had Amarantha found you two in here? Tamlin might refuse to be her lover, but she keeps him at her side out of the hope that she'll break him- dominate him as she loves to do with our kind.' I kept silent. 'You're both fools,' he murmured, his breathing uneven. 'How did you not think that someone would notice you were gone? You should thank the Cauldron Lucien's delightful brothers weren't watching you.' 'What do you care?' I barked, and his grip tightened enough on my wrists that I knew my bones would snap with a little more pressure. 'What do I care?' he breathed, wrath twisting his features. Wings- those membranous, glorious wings- flared from his back, crafted from the shadows behind him. 'What do I care?' But before he could go on, his head snapped to the door, then back to my face. The wings vanished as quickly as they had appeared, and then his lips were crushing into mine. His tongue pried my mouth open, forcing himself into me, into the space where I could still taste Tamlin. I pushed and thrashed, but he held firm, his tongue sweeping over the roof of my mouth, against my teeth, claiming my mouth, claiming me- The door was flung wide, and Amarantha's curved figure filled the space. Tamlin- Tamlin was beside her, his eyes slightly wide, shoulders tight as Rhys's lips crushed mine. Amarantha laughed, and a mask of stone slammed down on Tamlin's face, void of feeling, void of anything vaguely like the Tamlin I'd been tangled up with moments before. Rhys casually released me with a flick of his tongue over my bottom lip as a crowd of High Fae appeared behind Amarantha and chimed in with her laughter. Rhysand gave them a lazy, self-indulgent grin and bowed. But something sparked in the queen's eyes as she looked at Rhysand. Amarantha's whore, they'd called him.”

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Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“Why do you think I'm doing this?' He waved a hand to me. 'Because you're a monster.' He laughed. 'True, but I'm also a pragmatist. Working Tamlin into a senseless fury is the best weapon we have against her. Seeing you enter into a fool's bargain with Amarantha was one thing, but when Tamlin saw my tattoo on your arm... Oh, you should have been born with my abilities, if only to have felt the rage that seeped from him.' I didn't want to think much about his abilities. 'Who's to say he won't splatter you as well?' 'Perhaps he'll try- but I have a felling he'll kill Amarantha first. That's what it all boils down to, anyway: even your servitude to me can be blamed on her. So he'll kill her tomorrow, and I'll be free before he can start a fight with me that will reduce our once-sacred mountain to rubble.' He picked at his nails. 'And I have a few other cards to play.' I lifted my brows in silent question. 'Feyre, for Cauldron's sake. I drug you, but you don't wonder why I never touch you beyond your waist or arm?' Until tonight- until the damned kiss. I gritted my teeth, but even as my anger rose, a picture cleared. 'It's the only claim I have to innocence,' he said, 'the only thing that will make Tamlin think twice before entering into a battle with me that would cause a catastrophic loss of innocent life. It's the only way I can convince him I was on your side. Believe me, I would have liked nothing more than to enjoy you- but there are bigger things at stake than taking a human woman to my bed.”

ClaritySarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronRhysandRhysA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinConfessingAmarantha
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“Why did Amarantha target you?' I dared ask. 'Why make you her whore?' 'Beyond the obvious?' He gestured to his perfect face. When I didn't smile he loosed a breath. 'My father killed Tamlin's father- and his brothers.' I started. Tamlin had never said- never told me the Night Court was responsible for that. 'It's a long story, and I don't feel like going into it, but let's just say that when she stole out lands out from under us, Amarantha decided that she especially wanted to punish the son of her friend's murderer- decided that she hated me enough for my father's deeds that I was to suffer.' I might have reached a hand toward him, might have offered my apologies- but every thought had dried up in my head. What Amarantha had done to him...”

RevengeSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronRhysandRhysSexual AbuseA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinAmarantha
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“The faerie servant offered the last dagger, and I was about to reach for it when the guard removed the hood from the male kneeling before me. My hands slackened at my sides. Amber-flecked green eyes stared up at me. Everything came crashing down, layer upon layer, shattering and breaking and crumbling, as I gazed at Tamlin. I whipped my head to the throne beside Amarantha's, still occupied by my High Lord, and she laughed as she snapped her fingers. The Tamlin beside her transformed in to the Attor, smiling wickedly at me. Tricked- deceived by my own senses again. Slowly, my soul ripping further from me, I turned back to Tamlin. There was only guilt and sorrow in his eyes, and I stumbled away, almost falling as I tripped over my feet.”

Sarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronDeceivedA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinAmaranthaTrickedCrashing DownStumbled
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“But my host was looking at Tamlin now, who slowly faced my dead body. Tamlin's still-masked face twisted into something truly lupine as he raised his eyes to the queen and snarled. Fangs lengthened. Amarantha backed away- away from my corpse. She only whispered 'Please' before golden light exploded. The queen was blasted back, thrown against the far wall, and Tamlin let out a roar that shoot the mountain as he launched himself at her. He shifted into his beast form faster than I could see- fur and claws and pound upon pound of lethal muscle. She had no sooner hit the wall than he gripped her by the neck, and the stones cracked as he shoved her against it with a clawed paw. She thrashed but could do nothing against the brutal onslaught of Tamlin's beast. Blood ran down his furred arm from where she scratched. ... Amarantha screeched, kicking at Tamlin, lashing at him with her dark magic, but a wall of gold encompassed his fur like a second skin. She couldn't touch him. 'Tam!' Lucien cried over the chaos. A sword hurtled through the air, a shooting star of steel. Tamlin caught it in his massive paw. Amarantha's scream was cut short as he drove the sword through her head and into the stone beneath. And then closed his powerful jaws around her throat- and ripped it out.”

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Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“She plucked another figurine from the mantle: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. 'He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.' 'Did he ever make any for you?' 'He knew better than to do that.' She inhaled a shuddering breath, held it, released it. Let her mind calm. 'I think he would have, if I'd given him the smallest bit of encouragement, but... I never did. I was too angry.' 'You'd have your life overturned. You were allowed to be angry.' 'That's not what you told me the first time we met.' She pivoted to find him arching a brow. 'You told me I was a piece of shit for letting my younger sister go into the woods to hunt while I did nothing.' 'I didn't say it like that.' 'The message was the same.' She squared her shoulders, turning to the small broken cot in the shadows beside the fireplace. 'And you were right.”

MemoriesAngrySarah J MaasCassianNesta ArcheronNestaA Court Of Silver FlamesDaddy IssuesFacing The PastPiece Of Shit
Book:A ​Court of Silver Flames
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“My father slept here for years, letting us have the bedroom. That bed in there... I was born in that bed. My mother died in that bed. I hate that bed.' She ran a hand over the cracking wood of the cot's frame. Splinters snagged at her fingertips. 'But I hate this cot even more. He'd drag it in front of the fire every night and curl up there, huddling under the blankets. I always thought he looked so... so weak. Like a cowering animal. It enraged me. 'Does it enrage you now?' A casual, but careful question. 'It...' Her throat worked. 'I thought him sleeping here was a fitting punishment while we got the bed. It never occurred to me that he wanted us to have the bed, to keep warm and be as comfortable as we could. That we'd only been able to take a few items of furniture from our former home and he'd chosen the bed as one of them. For our comfort. So we didn't have to sleep on cots, or on the floor.' She rubbed at her chest. 'I wouldn't even let him sleep in the bed when the debtors shattered his leg. I was so lost in my grief and rage and... and sorrow, that I wanted him to feel a fraction of what I did.' Her stomach churned. He squeezed her shoulder, but said nothing. 'He had to have known that,' she said hoarsely. 'He had to have known how awful I was, and yet... he never yelled. That enraged me, too. And then he named a ship after me. Sailed it into battle. I just... I can't understand why.' 'You were his daughter.' 'And that's an explanation?' She scanned his face, the sadness etched there. Sadness- for her. For the ache in her chest and the stinging in her eyes. 'Love is complicated.”

LoveAngerComplicatedSarah J MaasCassianNesta ArcheronNestaA Court Of Silver FlamesDaddy IssuesFather Archeron
Book:A ​Court of Silver Flames
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“Then he said quietly, 'You've lost weight.' 'You're prone to digging through my head whenever you please,' I said, stabbing a piece of melon with my fork. 'I don't see why you're surprised by it.' His gaze didn't lighten, though that smile again played about his sensuous mouth, no doubt his favourite mask. 'Only occasionally will I do that. And I can't help it if you send things down the bond.' ... I scowled, clenching my fork harder. 'And how often do you just rifle through my mind when my shields are down?' All amusement faded from his face. 'When I can't tell if your nightmares are real threats or imagined. When you're about to be married and you silently beg anyone to help you. Only when you drop your mental shields and unknowingly blast those things down the bridge. And to answer your question before you ask, yes. Even with your shields up, I could get through them if I wished. You could train, though- learn how to shield against someone like me, even with the bond bridging our minds and my own abilities.”

ConcernedSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronRhysandRhysA Court Of Mist And FuryAnnoyedBondScowling
Book:A Court of Mist and Fury
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“So what if you burned a few books? Those librarians deserve it. When we're older, maybe we'll burn it to the ground together." She knew he meant it. He'd burn the library, the city, or the whole world to ashes if she asked him. It was their bond, marked by blood and scent and something else she couldn't place. A tether as strong as the one that bound her to her parents, stronger in some ways.”

Family TiesBondedAedion Aelin
Book:Heir of Fire
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“She sneered at the pillar of foxglove I'd painted along the edge of the table- the colours too dark and too blue, with none of the white freckling inside the trumpets, but I'd made do, even if it had killed me not to have white paint, to make something so flawed and lasting. I drowned the urge to cover up the painting with my hand. Maybe tomorrow I'd just scrape it off the table altogether.”

ArtPaintingFeyreFeyre ArcheronEmbarrassedA Court Of Thorns And RosesHumiliatedNot Quite Right
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“Once the wrenching, gaping sounds came out of her, Nesta knew she could not stop. She knelt on the shore of that mountain lake and let go entirely. She allowed every horrible thought to hit her, wash through her. Let herself see Feyre's pale, devastated face as Nesta had revealed the truth, as she'd let her own anger and pain ride her. She could never outlive it, her guilt. There was no point in trying. She sobbed into the darkness of her hands. And then the stones clicked, and a warm, steady presence appeared beside her. He didn't touch her, but his voice was nearby as he said, 'I'm here.' She sobbed harder at that. She couldn't stop. As if a dam had burst and only letting the water run its course, raging through her, would suffice. 'Nesta.' His fingers grazed her shoulder. She couldn't bear that touch. The kindness in it. 'Please,' she said. Her first word in five days. He stilled. 'Please what?' She leaned from him. 'Don't touch me. Don't- don't be kind to me.' The words were a sobbing, rippling jumble. 'Why?' The list of reasons surged, fighting to get out, to voice themselves, and she let them decide. Let them flow through her, as she whispered, 'I let him die.' He went quiet. Through her hands on her face, she continued to whisper. 'He came to save me, and fought for me, and I let him die with hate in my heart. Hate for him. He died because I didn't stop it.' Her voice broke, and she wept harder. 'And I was so horrid to him, until the very end. I was so, so horrid to him all my life- and still he somehow loved me. I didn't deserve it, but he did. And I let him die.' She bowed over her knees, saying into her palms, 'I can't undo it. I can't fix it. I can't fix that he is dead, I can't fix what I said to Feyre, I can't fix any of the horrible things I've done. I can't fix me.' She sobbed so hard she thought her body would break with it. Wanted her body to come apart like a cracked egg, wanted what was left of her soul to drift away on the mountain wind. She whispered, 'I can't bear it.' Cassian said quietly, 'It isn't your fault.' She shook her head, face still in her hands, as if it'd shield her from him, but he said, 'Your father's death is not your fault. I was there, Nesta. I looked for a way out of it, too. And there was nothing that could have been done.' 'I could have used my power. I could have tried-' 'Nesta.' Her name was a sigh- as if he were pained. Then his arms were around her, and she was being pulled into his lap. She didn't fight it, not as he tucked her against his chest. Into his strength and warmth. 'I could have found a way. I should have found a way.' His hand began stroking her hair. Her entire body, right down to her bones, trembled.”

GuiltSarah J MaasCryingCassianNesta ArcheronNestaA Court Of Silver FlamesSobbingBreak DownRemorseful
Book:A ​Court of Silver Flames
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