Quotessence
Home / Authors / Sarah J. Maas
Sarah J. Maas

Sarah J. Maas Quotes

Author

Filter quotes by topic

Famous Sarah J. Maas Quotes

“We're one of the three Solar Courts,' he said, motioning for me to sit with a graceful twist of his wrist. 'Our nights are far more beautiful and our sunsets and dawns are exquisite, but we do adhere to the laws of nature.' I slid into the upholstered chair across from him. His tunic was unbuttoned at the neck, revealing a hint of the tanned chest beneath. 'And do the other courts choose not to?' 'The nature of the Seasonal Courts,' he said, 'is linked to their High Lords, whose magic and will keeps them in eternal spring, or winter, or fall, or summer. It has always been like that- some sort of strange stagnation. But the Solar Courts- Day, Dawn, and Night- are of a more... symbolic nature. We might be powerful, but even we cannot alter the sun's path or strength. Tea?' The sunlight danced along the curve of the silver teapot. I kept my eager nod to a restrained dip of my chin. 'But you will find,' Rhysand went on, pouring a cup for me,' that our nights are more spectacular- so spectacular that some in my territory even awaken at sunset and go to bed at dawn, just to live under the starlight.”

“I stepped forward, and didn't give Lucien time to step back as I hugged him tightly. 'Thank you,' I said, trying not to think about all the steel on him- if he'd need to use it. 'It was time,' Lucien said quietly, giving me a squeeze. 'For me to do something.' I pulled away, surveying his scarred face. 'Thank you,' I said again. It was all I could think of to say. Rhys extended a hand to Lucien. Lucien studied it- then my mate's face. I could nearly see all the hateful words they'd spoken. Dangling between them, between that outstretched hand and Lucien's own. But Lucien took Rhys's hand. That silent offer of not only transportation. Before that dark wind swept in, Lucien looked back. Not to me, I realised- to someone behind me. Pale and thin, Elain stood atop the stairs. Their gazes locked and held. But Elain said nothing. Did not so much as take one step downward. Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye- the longing and sadness. And when Lucien turned to signal to Rhys to go... He did not glance back at Elain. Did not see the half step she took toward the stairs- as if she'd speak to him. Stop him. Then Rhys was gone, and Lucien with him. When I turned to offer Elain breakfast, she'd already walked away.”

“Lucien was having none of it. 'I knew. I knew you were lying the moment you unleashed that light in Hybern. My friend at the Dawn Court has the same power- her light is identical. And it does not do whatever horseshit you lied about it doing.' I shoved my pack off my bedroll. 'Then why not tell him? You were his faithful dog in every other sense.' His eye seemed to simmer. As if being in his own lands set that molten ore inside him rising to the surface, even with the damper on his power. 'Glad to see the mask is off, at least.' Indeed, I let him see it all- didn't alter or shape my face into anything but coldness. Lucien snorted. 'I didn't tell him for two reasons. One, it felt like kicking a male already down. I couldn't take that hope away from him.' I rolled my eyes. 'Two,' he snapped, 'I knew if I was correct and called you on it, you'd find a way to make sure I never saw her.' My nails dug into my palms hard enough to hurt, but I remained seated on the bedroll as I bared my teeth at him. 'And that's why you're here. Not because it's right and he's always been wrong, but just so you can get what you think you're owed.' 'She is my mate and in my enemy's hands-' 'I've made no secret from the start that Elain is safe and cared for.' 'And I'm supposed to believe you?' 'Yes,' I hissed. 'You are. Because if I believed for one moment that my sisters were in danger, no High Lord or king would have kept me from going to save them.”

“I don't think Nesta will ever forgive me for what happened in Hybern. To her- but mostly to Elain.' 'Your wings were shredded. You were barely alive.' For that was guilt- ravaging and poisonous- in each of Cassian's words. What the others had been fighting against in the loft. 'You were in no position to save anyone.' 'I made her a promise.' The wind ruffled Cassian's hair as he squinted at the sky. 'And when it mattered, I didn't keep it.' I still dreamed of him trying to crawl toward her, reaching for her even in the semi- unconscious state the pain and blood loss had thrown him into. As Rhysand had once done for me during those last moments with Amarantha. Perhaps only a few wing beats separated us from the broad landing veranda, but I asked, 'Why do you bother, Cassian?' His hazel eyes shuttered as we smoothly landed. And I thought he wouldn't answer, especially not when Rhys gracefully landed beside us and strode in ahead with a wink. But Cassian said quietly as we headed for the dining room, 'Because I can't stay away.”

“She was hungry. She was... doing something. Learning something. ... I put a hand on my chest, leaning against the wood panels of the stair wall. Rhys'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.' I leaned forward, resting my brow against his chest, right over his heart. 'She still has a long way to go.' 'We all do.' He stroked a hand over my back. I leaned into the touch, savouring his warmth and strength.”

“Lucien. It was Lucien. Lucien, haggard and bloody, panting for breath. As if he'd run from the shore. His gaze settled on Elain, and he sagged a little. But Elain only wrapped her arms around herself and remained at my side. 'Are you hurt?' he asked, coming toward us. Spying the blood speckling Elain's hands. He halted short as he noticed the King of Hybern's decapitated head on the other side of the clearing. Nesta was still showered with his blood. 'I'm fine,' Elain said quietly. And then asked, noticing the gore on him, the torn clothes and still-bloody weapons, 'Are you-' 'Well, I never want to fight in another battle as long as I live, but... yes, I'm in one piece.' A faint smile bloomed on Elain's lips. But Lucien noticed that scorched patch of grass behind us and said, 'I heard- what happened. I'm sorry for your loss. All of you.' I just strode to him and threw my arms around his neck, even if it wasn't the embrace he was hoping for. 'Thank you- for coming. With the battle, I mean.' 'I've got one hell of a story to tell you,' he said, squeezing me tightly.”

“Elain fell into step beside me, peering at Lucien. He noticed it. 'I heard you made the killing blow,' he said. Elain studied the trees ahead. 'Nesta did. I just stabbed him.' Lucien seemed to fumble for a response, but I said to him, 'So where now? Off with Vassa?' I wondered if he'd heard of Tamlin's role- the help he'd given us. A look at my friend showed me he had. Someone, perhaps my mate, had informed him. Lucien shrugged. 'First- here. To help. Then...' Another glance at Elain. 'Who knows?' I nudged Elain, who blinked at me, then blurted. 'You could come to Velaris.' He saw all of it, but nodded graciously. 'It would be my pleasure.”

“She knew she was going into that Cauldron. Knew she would lose this fight. Knew no one was going to save her: not sobbing Feyre, not Feyre's gagged former lover, nor her devastated new mate. Not Cassian, broken and bleeding on the floor. The warrior was still trying to rise on trembling arms. To reach her. The King of Hybern- he had done this. To Elain. To Cassian. And to her. The icy water bit into the soles of her feet. It was a kiss of venom, a death so permanent that every inch of her roared in defiance. She was going in- but she would not go gently. The water gripped her ankles with phantom talons, tugging her down. She twisted, wrenching her arm free from the guard who held it. And Nesta Archeron pointed. One finger- at the King of Hybern. A death-promise. A target marked. Hands shoved her into the water's waiting claws. Nesta laughed at the fear that crept into the king's eyes just before the water devoured her whole. In the beginning. And in the end. There was darkness. And nothing more. She did not feel the cold as she sank into a sea that had no bottom, no horizon, no surface. But she felt the burning. Immortality was not a serene youth It was fire. It was molten ore poured into her veins, boiling her human blood until it was nothing but steam, forging her brittle bones until they were fresh steel. And when she opened her mouth to scream, when the pain ripped her very self in two, there was no sound. There was nothing in this place but darkness and agony and power- They would pay. All of them. Staring with the Cauldron. Starting now. She tore into the darkness with talons and teeth. Rent and cleaved and shredded. And the dark eternity around her shuddered. Bucked. Thrashed. She laughed as it recoiled. Laughed around the mouthful of raw power she ripped out and swallowed whole; laughed at the fistfuls of eternity she shoved into her heart, her veins. The Cauldron struggled like a bird under a cat's paw. She refused to relent. Everything it had stolen from her, from Elain, she would take from it. Wrapped in black eternity, Nesta and the Cauldron twined, burning through the darkness like a newborn star.”

“Nesta's stare drifted to the paint flaking off the walls. The intricate little designs. Cassian followed her stare. 'Did Feyre paint that?' Nesta swallowed, and managed to get out, 'She painted every chance she got. Any extra coins she managed to save went toward paints.' 'Have you ever seen what she's done to the cabin up in the mountains?' 'No.' She'd never been there. 'Feyre painted the whole thing. Just like this. She told me once that there's a dresser here...' Nesta aimed for the bedroom. 'This one?' Cassian followed her, and gods, it was so cramped and dark and smelly. The bed was still covered with stained linens. The three of them had slept here for years. Cassian ran a hand over the painted dresser, marvelling. 'She really did paint stars for herself before she knew Rhys was her mate. Before she knew he existed.' His fingers traced the twining vines of flowers on the second drawer. 'Elain's drawer.' They drifted lower, curling over a lick of flame. 'And yours.' Nesta managed a grunt of confirmation, her chest tight to the point of pain.”

“He told me that he's got three daughters who live here. And that he failed them for many years. But he would not fail them this time.' The ships at the front of the human armada became clear, along with the gold lettering on their sides. 'He named his three personal ships after them,' Drakon said with a smile. And there, sailing at the front... I beheld the names of those ships. The Feyre. The Elain. And leading the charge against Hybern, flying over the waves, unyielding and without an ounce of fear... The Nesta. With my father... our father at the helm.”

“There was nothing that could have been done to save him, Nesta.' The words were kindling. Elain had accepted his death as inevitable. She hadn't bothered to fight him, as if he hadn't been worth the effort, precisely as Nesta knew she herself wasn't worth the effort. This time, Nesta didn't stop the power from shining in her eyes, she shook so violently she had to fist her hands. 'You tell yourself there's nothing that could have been done because it's unbearable to think that you could have saved him, if you'd only deigned to show up a few minutes earlier.' The lie was bitter in her mouth. It wasn't Elain's fault their father had died. No, that was entirely Nesta's own fault. But if Elain was determined to root out the good in her, then she'd show her sister how ugly she could be. Let a fraction of this agony rip into her. This was why Elain had chosen Feyre. This. Feyre had rescued Elain time and again. BUt Nesta had sat by, armed only with her viper's tongue. Sat by while they starved. Sat by when Hybern stole them away and shoved them into the Cauldron. Sat by when Elain had been kidnapped. And when their father had been in Hybern's grip, she had done nothing, nothing to save him, either. Fear had frozen her, blanketing her mind, and she'd let it do so, let it master her, so that by the time her father's neck had snapped, it had been too late. And entirely her fault. Why wouldn't Elain choose Feyre?”

“—Porque yo no querría morirme sola —respondí, y me tembló la voz cuando volví a mirar a Tamlin y me obligué a buscar sus ojos con los míos—. Porque me gustaría que alguien me sostuviera la mano hasta el final y un rato más después. Eso es algo que todo el mundo merece, inmortales y humanos. –Capítulo 17, pág. 177”

“So Nesta held her sister tightly, with Time halted around them, and she whispered, 'If you show me how to save her, you can have it back.' The world paused. Worlds beyond their own paused. Nesta buried her face in the cold sweat of Feyre's neck. She opened that place within herself, and said to the Mother, to the Cauldron, 'I'll give back what I took from you. Just show me how to save them- her and Rhysand and the baby.' Rhysand- her brother. That's what he was, wasn't he? Her brother, who had offered her kindness even when she knew he wanted to throttle her. And she him. and the baby... her nephew. Blood of her blood. She would save him, save them, even if it took everything. 'Show me,' she pleaded.”

“Cassian.' Rhys's voice was a thing of nightmares, of the darkness between the stars. Cassian froze at that voice he'd so rarely heard, and never once directed at himself. 'What happened?' Rhys's face was wholly calm. But death- black, raging death- lay in his eyes. Not a star or shimmer of violet remained. Rhys said in that voice that was like hell embodied, 'Nesta saw fit to inform Feyre of the risk to her and the babe.' Cassian's heart began thundering, even as it splintered. Rhys held his state, and it was all Cassian could do to weather it as his brother, his High Lord said, 'Get Nesta out of this city. Right now.' Rhys's power rumbled in the room like a rising storm. 'Before I fucking kill her.”

“I was about to beg Rhys to fly me home when I caught the strands of music pouring from a group of performers outside a restaurant. My hands slackened at my sides. A reduced version of the symphony I'd heard in a chill dungeon, when I had been so lost in terror and despair that I'd hallucinated- hallucinated as this music poured into my cell- and kept me from shattering. And once more, the beauty of it hit me, the layering and swaying, the joy and peace. They had never played a piece like it Under the Mountain- never this sort of music. And I'd never heard music in my cell save for that one time. 'You,' I breathed, not taking my eyes from the musicians playing so skilfully that even the diners had set down their forks in the cafe nearby. 'You sent that music into my cell. Why?' Rhysand's voice was hoarse. 'Because you were breaking. And I couldn't find another way to save you.”

“She didn't remember a time when she hadn't been angry. ... She couldn't quell this relentless, churning anger. Couldn't stop herself from lashing out before she could be wounded. She was no better than a rabid dog. She had been a rabid dog with Amren and Feyre. A beast, exactly like Tamlin. She hadn't even cared that she'd made it down the House stairs at last- did it count, when it was driven by fury? Did she count- was she worth being counted? It was the question that sent everything crumpling inside her.”

“I suppose that loudmouthed bastard told you more than was necessary.' 'You voted against me,' she said, her cold voice belying the crack in her chest. 'You have done nothing to prove you are able to handle such a terrible power,' Amren said with equal iciness. 'On that barge, you told me as much when you walked away from any attempt at mastering it. I offered to teach you more, and you walked away.' 'I walked away because you chose my sister.' Just as Elain had done. Amren had been her friend, her ally, and yet in the end, it hadn't mattered one bit. She'd picked Feyre. 'I didn't choose anyone, you stupid girl,' Amren snapped. 'I told you that Feyre had requested you and I work together again, and you somehow twist that into me siding with her?' Nesta said nothing. 'I told them to leave you alone for months. I refused to speak about you with them. And then the moment I realised my behaviour was not helping you, that maybe your sister was right, I somehow betrayed you?' Nesta shook. 'You know how I feel about Feyre.' 'Yes, poor Nesta, with a younger sister who loves her so dearly she's willing to do anything to get her help.' Nesta blocked out the memory of Tamlin in his beast form, how she had wanted to rip him limb from limb. She was no better than him, in the end. 'Feyre doesn't have me.' She didn't deserve Feyre's love. Just as Tamlin hadn't. Amren barked out a laugh. 'That you believe Feyre doesn't only proves you're unworthy of your power. Anyone that willingly blind cannot be trusted. You would be a walking nightmare with those weapons.' 'It's different now.' The words rang hollow. Was it any different? Was she any different that she'd been this summer, when she and Amren had fought on the barge, and Amren's utter disappointment in her failure to be anything had surfaced at last? Amren smiled, as if she knew that, too. 'You can train as hard as you want, fuck Cassian as often as you want, but it isn't going to fix what's broken if you don't start reflecting.' 'Don't preach at me.. You-' She pointed at Amren, and could have sworn the female stepped out of the line of fire. Just as Tamlin had done. As if Amren also remembered that the last time Nesta had pointed at an enemy, it had ended with his severed head in her hands. A joyless laugh broke from her. 'You think I'd mark you with a death-promise?' 'You nearly did with Tamlin the other day.' So Cassian had told them all about that, too. 'But I'll say to you again what I said on that barge. I think you have powers that you still do not understand, respect, or control.' 'How dare you assume you know what is best for me?' When Amren didn't answer, Nesta hissed, 'You were my friend.' Amren's teeth flashed. 'Was I? I don't think you know what that word means.' Her chest ached, as if that invisible fist had punched her once again. Steps thudded beyond the shattered door, and she braced for Cassian to come roaring in- But it was Feyre.”

“Cassian. I forgot you can mind-speak. Her laugh sounded. I can't decide whether I should be insulted or not. Perhaps I should be using the daemati gifts more often. She paused before saying, Are you all right? I should be asking you that. Rhys overreacted. He completely and utterly overreacted. Cassian shook his head, though Feyre couldn't see it. I'm sorry you had to learn of it. I'm not. I'm furious with all of you. I understand why you didn't tell me, but I'm furious. Well, we're furious with Nesta. She had the courage to tell me the truth. She told you the truth to hurt you. Perhaps. But she was the only one who said anything. Cassian sighed through his nose. She... He thought it over. I think she saw the parallels between your situations and, in her own way, decide to avenge both of you. That's my feeling, too. Rhys disagrees. I wish you'd found out a different way. Well, I didn't. But we'll face it together. All of us. How can you be so calm about this? The alternative is fear and panic. I will not let my son feel those things. I will fight for him, for us, until I no longer can. Cassian's throat tightened. We'll fight for you, too. I know. Feyre paused again. Rhys had no right to chase you from the city, or to threaten Nesta. He has realised that, and apologised. I want you to come back home. Both of you. Where did you even head off to? The wilderness. Cassian looked over a shoulder, to where Nesta had been asleep for the past few hours, curled into a tight ball against the wall of rock. I think we'll stay out here for a few days. We're going to hike. Nesta has never been on a hike in her life. I guarantee she will hate it. Then tell Rhys this is her punishment. Because Rhys, despite apologising for his threats, would still be furious. Tell him that Nesta and I are going to hike, and she's going to hate it, but she comes home when I decide she's ready to come home. Feyre was quiet for a long moment. He says that he knows he's supposed to say that's unnecessary, but to tell you he's secretly delighted. Good. I am secretly glad to hear that. Feyre laughed, and the sound was proof that she might have been hurt, startled by the news, but she was indeed adapting to it. Would not let it make her cower and cry. He didn't know why he'd expected any less of her. Feyre said, Please take care of her, Cassian. And yourself. Cassian glanced to the sleeping female nearly hidden in the shadows of the rock. I will.”

“Be glad of your human heart, Feyre. Pity those who don't feel anything at all." I couldn't explain about the hole that had already formed in my soul - didn't want to, so I just nodded. His eyes locked on mine, wide and wild, and his nostrils flared. Shock - pure shock flashed across his features at whatever he saw on my face, and he stumbled back a step. Actually stumbled.”

“I felt him before he appeared, a spark of star-kissed joy flaring through me right as Rhys stepped out of the air itself. "Well?" Cassian hopped off the boulder, extending a hand to help me down. "You're not going to like his asking price." Rhys held out both hands to winnow us back to Velaris. "If he wants the fancy dinner plates, he can have them." Neither Cassian nor I could muster a laugh as we both reached for Rhys's outstretched hands. "You better bring your bargaining skills tonight," was all Cassian muttered to my mate before we vanished into shadow.”

“Nesta,' he said into her ear. 'Nesta, open your hand and come back.' Her breathing sharpened. The cold deepened. 'Nesta,' he snarled- And the cold halted. It didn't vanish, but rather... stopped. Nesta's eyes flicked open. Silver fire burned within. Nothing Fae looked out through them. Rhys shoved Feyre behind him. She shoved her way back to his side. But Nesta's hand continued to squeeze Cassian's. He squeezed back, let his Siphons send a bite of power into her skin. She turned her head so slowly it was like watching a puppet move. Her eyes met his. Death watched him. But Death had walked beside him every day of his life. So Cassian stroked his thumb along her palm and said, 'Hello, Nes.' Nesta blinked, and he let his Siphons bite her with his power again. The fire flickered. He nodded to the map, 'Let go of the stones and bones.' He didn't let her scent his fear. Here was the being the Bone Carver had whispered about, exalted and feared. 'Let go of the stones and bones, and then you and I can play.”

“We need to make some changes, Nesta,' Feyre said hoarsely. 'You do- and we do.' Where the hell was Elain? 'I'll take the blame,' Feyre went on, 'for allowing things to get this far, and this bad. After the war with Hybern, with everything else that was going on, it... You... I should have been there to help you, but I wasn't, and I am ready to admit that this is partially my fault.' 'That what is your fault?' Nesta hissed. 'You,' Cassian said. 'This bullshit behaviour.' He'd said that at the Winter Solstice. And just as it had then, her spine locked at the insult, the arrogance- 'Look,' Cassian went on, holding up his hands, 'it's not some moral failing, but-' 'I understand how you're feeling,' Feyre cut in. 'You know nothing about how I'm feeling.' Feyre plowed ahead. 'It's time for some changes. Starting now.' 'Keep your self-righteous do-gooder nonsense out of my life.' 'You don't have a life,' Feyre retorted. 'And I'm not going to sit by for another moment and watch you destroy yourself.' She put a tattooed hand on her heart, like it meant something. 'I decided after the war to give you time, but it seems that was wrong. I was wrong.' 'Oh?' The word was a dagger thrown between them. Rhys tensed at the sneer, but still said nothing. 'You're done,' Feyre breathed, voice shaking. 'This behaviour, that apartment, all of it- you are done, Nesta.' 'And where,' Nesta said, her tone mercifully icy, 'am I supposed to go?' Feyre looked to Cassian. For once, Cassian wasn't grinning. 'You're coming with me,' he said. 'To train.”

“All you have done is help yourself to our money.' 'Your mate's money.' Another flash of hurt. 'Thank you so much for taking time out of your home-making and shopping to remember me.' 'I built a room in this house for you. I asked you to help me decorate it. You told me to piss off.' 'Why would I ever want to stay in this house?' Where she could see precisely how happy they were, where none of them seemed remotely as decimated as she'd been by the war. She'd come so close to being a part of it- of that circle. Had held their hands as they'd stood together on the morning of the final battle and believed they might all make it. Then she'd learned precisely how mercilessly it might be ripped away. What the cost of hop and joy and love truly was. She never wanted to face it again. Never wanted to endure what she'd felt in that forest clearing, with the King of Hybern chuckling, blood everywhere. Her power hadn't been enough to save them that day. She supposed she'd been punishing it for failing her every since, keeping it locked up tight inside her. Feyre said, 'Because you're my sister.' 'Yes, and you're always sacrificing for us, your sad little human family-”

“I am not a thing to be controlled by you,' Nesta said icily. Everything in her life, from the moment she was born, had been controlled by other people. Things happened to her; anytime she tried to exert control, she'd been thwarted at every turn- and she hated that even more than the King of Hybern. 'That's why you're going to train at Windhaven. You will learn to control yourself.' 'I won't go.' 'You're going, even if you have to be tied up and hauled there. You will follow Cassian's lessons, and you will do whatever work Clotho requires in the library.”

“She didn't possess Rhys's skill set, but having survived in the Court of Nightmares, she'd learned to read the subtlest of expressions. A mere blink, she'd once told him, might mean the difference between life and death in that miserable court. 'She's settled, then?' Cassian knew who she meant. 'Taking a nap.' Mor snorted. 'Don't.' His attention drifting to the glittering Sidra mere feet away. 'Please don't.' Mor sipped her tea, the portrait of elegant innocence. 'We'd be better off throwing Nesta into the Court of NIghtmares. She'd thrive there.' Cassian clenched his jaw, both at the insult and the truth. 'That's exactly the sort of existence we're trying to steer her away from.' Mor assessed him with a bob of her thick lashes. 'It pains you seeing her like this.' 'All of it pains me.' He and Mor had always had this kind of relationship: truth at all costs, however harsh. Ever since that first and only time they'd slept together, when he'd learned too late that she'd hidden from him the terrible repercussions. When he'd seen her broken body and known that even if she'd lied to him, he'd still played a part. Cassian blew out a breath, shaking away the blood-soaked memory still staining his mind five centuries later. 'It pains me that Nesta has become... this. It pains me that she and Feyre are always at each other's throats. It pains me that Feyre hurts over it, and I know Nesta does, too. It pains me that...' He drummed his fingers on the table, then sipped from his water. 'I really don't want to talk about it.”

“It is no waste,' I said. 'One life may change the world. Where would you all be if someone had deemed saving my life to be a waste of time?' I pointed to Rhys. 'If he had deemed saving my life Under the Mountain a waste of time? Even if it's only twenty families, or ten... They are not a waste. Not to me- or to you.”

“I wanted to see if you were worth helping,' the Carver went on. 'It's a rare person to face who they truly are and not run from it- not be broken by it. That's what the Ouroboros shows all who look into it: who they are, every despicable and unholy inch. Some gaze upon it and don't realise that the horror they're seeing is them- even as the terror of it drives them mad. Some swagger in and are shattered by the small, sorry creature they find instead. But you... Yes, rare indeed. I could risk leaving here for nothing less.' Rage- blistering rage started to fill in the holes left by what I'd beheld in that mirror. 'You wanted to see if I was worthy?' That innocent people were worthy of being helped. A nod. 'I did. And you are. And now I shall help you.' I debated slamming the cell door in his face. But I only said quietly, 'Good.' I walked over to him. And I was not afraid as I grabbed the Bone Carver's cold hand. 'Then let's begin.”

“Rhys turned to me. If you can get across that battlefield in time, then do it. Try to stop the army. The king. But if you can't, when it all goes to hell... When there are none of us left... Don't, I begged him. Don't say it. I want you to run. I don't care what it costs. You run. Get far away, and live to fight another day. You don't look back. I began to shake my head. You said no good-byes.”

“I saw him assess the field ahead- and transform. The talons came first. Replacing fingers and feet. Then dark scales or perhaps feathers, I couldn't get a look at them, covered his legs, his arms, his chest. His body contorted, bones and muscles growing and shifting. The beast form Rhys had kept hidden. Never liked to unleash. Unless it was dire enough to do so. Before the Cauldron swept me away, I beheld what happened to his head, his face. It was a thing of nightmares. Nothing human or Fae in it. It was a creature that lived in black pits and only emerged at night to hunt and feast. That face... it was those creatures that had been carved into the rock of the Court of Nightmares. That made up his throne. The throne not only a representation of his power... but of what lurked within. And with the wings... Hybern soldiers began fleeing. Helion beheld what happened and ran, too- but towards Rhys. Shifting as well. If Rhys was a flying terror crafted from shadows and cold moonlight, Helion was his daytime equivalent. Gold feathers and shredding claws and feathered wings- Together, my mate and the High Lord of Day unleashed themselves upon Hybern.”

“Paint that when we get home. Busybody. I peered over my shoulder to Rhys, who stepped up to our little circle in the grass. His face remained more haggard than usual, lines of strain bracketing his mouth. And I realised... I would not get that last night with him. Last night- that had been the final night. We'd spent it winnowing- Don't think like that. Don't go into this battle thinking you won't walk off again. His gaze was sharp. Unyielding. Breathing became difficult. This break is the last time we'll all be here- talking. For this final leg of the march we were about to embark on... It would take us right to the battlefield. Rhys lifted a brow. Would you like to go into that wagon for a few minutes, then? It's a little cramped between the weapons and supplies, but I can make it work.”

“I turned. It took me a moment to grasp it. What I saw. Rhys was sprawled on the rocky ground, wings draped behind him. He looked like he was sleeping. But as I breathed in- It wasn't there. The thing that rose and fell with each breath. That echoed each heartbeat. The mating bond. It wasn't there. It was gone. Because his own chest... it was not moving. And Rhys was dead.”

“Then Cassian screamed. I looked toward him. Away from my father. Not twenty feet away, Cassian was on the ground. Wings- snapped in spots. Blood leaking from them. Bone jutted from his thigh. His siphons were dull. Empty. He'd already drained them before coming here. Was exhausted. But he had come- for her. For us. He was panting, blood dribbling from his nose. Arms buckling as he tried to rise. The King of Hybern stood over him, and extended a hand. Cassian arched off the ground, bellowing in pain. A bone cracked somewhere in his body. 'Stop.' The King looked over a shoulder as Nesta stepped forward. Cassian mouthed for her to run, blood escaping from his lips and onto the moss beneath him. Nesta took in his broken body, the pain in Cassian's eyes, and angled her head. The movement was not human. Not Fae. Purely animal. Purely predator. And when her eyes lifted to the king again... 'I am going to kill you.”