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Sarah J. Maas

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“What a pretty little wedding,' Rhysand said, stuffing his hands into his pockets as those many swords remained in their sheaths. The remaining crowd was pressing back, some climbing over seats to get away. Rhys looked me over slowly, and clicked his tongue at my silk gloves. Whatever had been building beneath my skin went still and cold. 'Get the hell out,' growled Tamlin, stalking toward us. Claws ripped from his knuckles. Rhys clicked his tongue again. 'Oh, I don't think so. Not when I need to call in my bargain with Feyre darling.' My stomach hollowed out. No- no, not now. 'You try to break the bargain, and you know what will happen,' Rhys went on, chuckling a bit at the crowd still falling over themselves to get away from him. He jerked his chin toward me. 'I gave you three months of freedom. You could at least look happy to see me.”

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“I'll be taking her now.' 'Don't you dare,' Tamlin snarled. Behind him, the dais was empty. Ianthe had vanished entirely. Along with most of those in attendance. 'Was I interrupting? I thought it was over.' Rhys gave me a smile dripping with venom. He knew- through that bond, through whatever magic was between us, he'd known I was about to say no. 'At least Feyre seemed to think so.”

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“Rhys was the least of my concerns. Tamlin had seen the hesitation, but had he understood that I was about to say no? Had Ianthe? I had to tell him. Had to explain that there couldn't be a wedding, not for a while yet. Maybe I'd wait until the mating bond snapped into place, until I knew for sure it couldn't be some mistake, that... that I was worthy of him. Maybe wait until he, too, had faced the nightmares stalking him. Relaxed his grip on things a bit. On me. Even if I understood his need to protect, that fear of losing me... Perhaps I should explain everything when I returned. But- so many people had seen it, seen me hesitate-”

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“My high-waisted peach pants were loose and billowing, gathered at the ankles with velvet cuffs of bright gold. The long sleeves of the matching top were made of gossamer, also gathered at the wrists, and the top itself hung just to my navel, revealing a sliver of skin as I walked. Comfortable, easy to move in- to run. Feminine. Exotic.”

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“Agreeing to do anything with him felt too permanent, too accepting of the bargain between us. 'What do you want with me? You said you'd tell me here. So tell me.' Rhys leaned back in his chair, folding powerful arms that even the fine clothes couldn't hide. 'For this week? I want you to learn how to read.”

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“You're going to be a High Lord's wide,' Rhys said. 'You'll be expected to maintain your own correspondences, perhaps even give a speech or two. And the Cauldron knows what else he and Ianthe will deem appropriate for you. Make menus for dinner parties, write thank-you letters for all those wedding gifts, embroider sweet phrases on pillows... It's a necessary skill. And, you know what? Why don't we throw in shielding while we're at it. Reading and shielding- fortunately, you can practice both together.' 'They are both necessary skills,' I said through my teeth, 'but you are not going to teach me.' 'What else are you going to do with yourself? Paint? How's that going these days, Feyre?”

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“You look like you were getting under Rhys's skin,' she said, strutting to her seat between us. 'Good thing I came along. Though I'd enjoy seeing Rhys's balls nailed to the wall.' Rhys slid incredulous eyes to her, his brows lifting. I hid the smile that tugged on my lips. 'It's- nice to meet you.' 'Liar,' Mor said, pouring herself some tea and loading her plate. 'You want nothing to do with us, do you? And wicked Rhys is making you sit here.”

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“Hands- there were hands on my shoulders, shaking me, squeezing me. I thrashed against them, screaming, screaming- 'FEYRE.' The voice was at once the night and the dawn and the stars and the earth, and every inch of my body calmed at the primal dominance in it. 'Open your eyes,' the voice ordered. I did. My throat was raw, my mouth full of ash, my face soaked and sticky, and Rhysand- Rhysand was hovering above me, his eyes wide. 'It was a dream,' he said, his breathing as hard as mine. The moonlight trickling through the windows illuminated the dark lines of swirling tattoos down his arm, his shoulders, across his sculpted chest. Like the ones I bore on my arm. He scanned my face. 'A dream,' he said again. Velaris. I was in Velaris, at his house. And I had- my dream- The sheets, the blankets were ripped. Shredded. But not with a knife. And that ashy, smoky taste coating my mouth... My hand was unnervingly steady as I lifted it to find my fingers ending in simmering embers. Living claws of flame that had sliced through my bed linens like they were cauterising wounds-”

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“I have this dream,' Rhys said as I retched again, holding my hair. 'Where it's not me stuck under her, but Cassian or Azriel. And she's pinned their wings to the bed with spikes, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. She's commanded me to watch, and I have no choice but to see how I failed them.' ... His fingers were gentle, but firm where he'd fisted them in my hair. 'You never failed them,' I rasped. 'I did... horrible things to ensure that.' Those violet eyes near-glowed in the dim light.' 'So did I.' My sweat clung like blood- the blood of those two faeries- I pivoted, barely turning in time. His other hand stroked long soothing lines down the curve of my back, as over and over I yielded my dinner.”

DreamTraumaSarah J MaasNightmareFeyreFeyre ArcheronRhysandRhysPtsdA Court Of Mist And Fury
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“I didn't see you Under the Mountain,' I said instead. I had to know without a doubt- if they were there, if they'd seen me, if it'd impact howI interacted while working with- Silence fell. None of them, even Amren, looked at Rhysand. It was Mor who said, 'Because none of us were.' Rhys's face was a mask of cold. 'Amarantha didn't know they existed. And when someone tried to tell her, they usually found themselves without the mind to do so.' A shudder went down my spine. Not at the cold killer, but- but... 'You truly kept this city, and all these people, hidden from her for fifty years?' Cassian was staring at his plate, as if he might burst out of his skin. Amren said, 'We will continue to keep this city and these people hidden from our enemies for a great many more.' Not an answer. Rhys hadn't expected to see them again when he'd been dragged Under the Mountain. Yet he had kept them safe, somehow. And it killed them- the four people at this table. It killed them all that he'd done it, however he'd done it. Even Amren. Perhaps not only for the fact that Rhys had endured Amarantha while they had been here. Perhaps it was also for those left outside of the city, too. Perhaps picking one city, one place, to shield was better than nothing. Perhaps... perhaps it was a comforting thing, to have a spot in Prythian that remained untouched. Unsullied.”

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“What's your story, then?' Cassian said to me with a jerk of his chin. I'd assumed Rhysand had told them everything. Rhys merely shrugged at me. So I straightened. 'I was born to a wealthy merchant family, with two older sisters and parents who only cared about their money and social standing. My mother died when I was eight; my father lost his fortune three years later. He sold everything to pay off his debts, moved us into a hovel, and didn't bother to find work while he let us slowly starve for years. I was fourteen when the last of the money ran out, along with the food. He wouldn't work- couldn't, because the debtors came and shattered his leg in front of us. So I went into the forest and taught myself to hunt. And I kept us all alive, if not near starvation at times, for five years. Until... everything happened.”

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“Tonight- I felt you again. Through the bond. Did I get past your shields?' 'No,' he said, scanning the cobblestone streets below. 'This bond is... a living thing. An open channel between us, shaped by my powers, shaped... by what you needed when we made the bargain.' 'I needed not to be dead when I agreed.' 'You needed not to be alone.' Our eyes met. It was too dark to read whatever was in his gaze. I was the one who looked away first.”

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“It helps the panic,' he said quietly, 'to remind myself that I got out. That we all got out.' 'Barely.' I tried to breathe. I couldn't, I couldn't- 'We got out. And it might happen again if we don't go inside.' The chill mist bit at my face. And I tried- I did- to take a step toward it. My body refused to obey. I tried to take a step again; I tried for Elain and Nesta and the human world that might be wrecked, but... I couldn't. 'Please,' I whispered. I didn't care if it meant that I'd failed my first day of work. Rhysand, as promised, didn't ask questions as he gripped my hand and brought us back to the winter sun and rich colours of Velaris.”

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“She chucked something onto the bed. A little gold amulet of pearl and cloudy blue stone. 'This got me out of the Prison. Wear it in, and they can never keep you.' I didn't touch the amulet. 'Allow me to make one thing clear,' Amren said, bracing both hands on the carved wooden footboard. 'I do not give that amulet lightly. But you may borrow it, while you do what needs to be done, and return it to me when you are finished. If you keep it, I will find you, and the results won't be pretty. But it is yours to use in the Prison.' By the time my fingers brushed the cool metal and stone, she'd walked out the door.”

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“...once my mother weaned me and I was able to walk, they flew me to a distant camp, and chucked me into the mud to see if I would live or die.' 'They would have been smarter throwing you off a cliff,' Mor said, snorting.' 'Oh definitely,' Cassian, said, that grin going razor-sharp. 'Especially because when I was old and strong enough to go back to the camp I'd been born in, I learned those pricks worked my mother until she died.' Again, that silence fell- different this time. The tension and simmering anger of a unit who had endured so much, survived so much... and felt each other's pain keenly.”

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“Rhysand at last released my hand, only to lay his once more on the bare stone. It rippled beneath his palm, forming- a door. Like the gates above, it was of ivory- bone. And in its surface were etched countless images: flora and fauna, seas and clouds, stars and moons, infants and skeletons, creatures fair and foul-”

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“I felt the ripple in the darkness without having to look up, and didn't flinch at the soft footsteps that approached me. I didn't bother hoping that it would be Tamlin. 'Still weeping?' Rhysand. I didn't lower my hands from my face. The floor rose toward the lowering ceiling- I would soon be flattened. There was no colour, no light here. 'You're just beaten her second task. Tears are unnecessary.' I wept harder, and he laughed. The stones reverberated as he knelt before me, and though I tried to fight him, his grip was firm as he grasped my wrists and pried my hands from my face. The walls weren't moving, and the room was open- gaping. No colours, but shades of darkness, of night. Only those star-flecked violet eyes were bright, full of colour and light. He gave me a lazy smile before he leaned forward. I pulled away, but his hands were like shackles. I could do nothing as his mouth met with my cheek, and he licked away a tear. His tongue was hot against my skin, so startling that I couldn't move as he licked away another path of salt water, and then another. My body went taut and loose all at once and I burned, even as chills shuddered along my limbs. It was only when his tongue danced along the damp edges of my lashes that I jerked back. He chuckled as I scrambled for the corner of the cell. I wiped my face as I glared at him. He smirked, sitting down against a wall. 'I figured that would get you to stop crying.' 'It was disgusting.' I wiped my face again. 'Was it?' He quirked an eyebrow and pointed to his palm- to the place where my tattoo would be. 'Beneath all your pride and stubbornness, I could have sworn I detected something that felt differently. Interesting.' 'Get out.' 'As usual, your gratitude is overwhelming.' 'Do you want me to kiss your feet for what you did at the trial? Do you want me to offer another week of my life?' 'Not unless you feel compelled to do so,' he said, his eyes like stars.”

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“As wonderful as it is to see you, Feyre, darling,' Rhysand said, sprawled on the bed, his head propped up by a hand, 'do I want to know why you're digging through my fireplace?' I bent my knees slightly, preparing to run, to duck, to do anything to get to the door that felt far, far away. 'They said I had to clean out lentils from the ashes, or you'd rip off my skin.' 'Did they now?' A feline smile.”

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“You look just as I hoped you would.' From the cobwebs of my memory, I recalled similar words Tamlin had once whispered in my ear. 'If this necessary?' I said, gesturing to the paint and clothing. 'Of course,' he said coolly. 'How else would I know if anyone touches you?' He approached, and I braced myself as he ran a finger along my shoulder, smearing the paint. As soon as his finger left my skin, the paint fixed itself, returning the design to its original form. 'The dress itself won't mar it, and neither will your movements,' he said, his face close to mine. His teeth were far too near to my throat. 'And I'll remember precisely where my hands have been. But if anyone else touches you- let's say a certain High Lord who enjoys springtime- I'll know.' He flicked my nose. 'And, Feyre,' he added, his voice a caressing murmur, 'I don't like my belongings tampered with.' Ice wrapped around my stomach. He owned me for a week every month. Apparently, he thought that extended to the rest of my life, too.”

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“... the door creaked and a golden fox-face appeared- along with a narrowed metal eye. 'Shit,' said Lucien. 'It's freezing in here.' It was but I was too nauseated to notice. Keeping my head up was an effort, let alone keeping the food down. He unclasped his cloak and set it around my shoulders. Its heavy warmth leaked in to me. 'Look at all this,' he said, staring at the paint on me. Thanksfully, it was all intact, save for a few places on my waist. 'Bastard.' 'What happened?' I got out, even though I wasn't sure I truly wanted the answer. My memory was a dark blur of wild music. Lucien drew back. 'I don't think you want to know.' I studied the few smudges on my waist, marks that looked like hands had held me. 'Who did this to me?' I asked quietly, my eyes tracing the arc of the spoiled paint. 'Who do you think?' My heart clenched and I looked at the floor. 'Did- did Tamlin see it?' Lucien nodded. 'Rhys was only doing it to get a rise out of him.' 'Did it work?' I still couldn't look Lucien in the face. I knew, at least, that I hadn't been violated beyond touching my sides. The paint told me that much. 'No,' Lucien said, and I smiled grimly. 'What- was I doing the whole time?' So much for Alis's warning. Lucien let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his red hair. 'He had you dance for him for most of the night. And when you weren't dancing, you were sitting in his lap.' 'What kind of dancing?' I pushed. 'Not the kind you were doing with Tamlin on Solstice,' Lucien said and my face heated. From the murkiness of my memories of last night, I recalled the closeness of a certain pair of violet eyes- eyes that sparkled with mischief as they beheld me. 'In front of everyone?' 'Yes,' Lucien replied- more gently than I'd heard him speak to me before. I stiffened. I didn't want his pity.”

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Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“Just pick one!' Lucien shouted, and some of those in the crowd laughed- his brothers no doubt the loudest. I reached a hand toward the levers and stared at the three numbers, beyond my trembling, tattooed fingers. I, II, III. They meant nothing to me beyond life and death. Chance might save me, but- Two. Two was a lucky number, because that was like Tamlin and me- just two people. One had to be bad, because one was like Amarantha, or the Attor- solitary beings. One was a nasty number, and three was too much- it was three sisters crammed into a tiny cottage, hating each other until they choked on it, until it poisoned them. Two. It was two. I could gladly, willingly, fanatically believe in a Cauldron and Fate if they would take care of me. I believed in two. Two. I reached for the second lever, but a blinding pain racked my hand before I could touch the stone. I hissed, withdrawing I opened my palm to reveal the slitted eye tattooed there. It narrowed. I had to be hallucinating. The grate was about to cover the inscription, barely six feet above my head. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. The heat was too much, and metal sizzled so close to my ears. I again reached for the middle lever, but the pain paralysed my fingers. The eye had returned to its usual state. I extended my hand toward the first lever. Again, pain. I reached for the third lever. No pain. My fingers met with stone, and I looked up to find the grate not four feet from my head. Through it, I found a star-flecked violet gaze. I reached for the first lever. Pain. But when I reached for the third lever... Rhysand's face remained a mask of boredom. Sweat slipped down m brow, stinging my eyes. I could only trust him; I could only give myself up again, forced to concede by my helplessness. The spikes were so enormous up close. All I had to do was lift my arm above my head and I'd burn the flesh off my hands. 'Feyre, please!' Lucian moaned. I shook so badly I could scarcely stand. The heat of the spikes bore down on me. The stone lever was cool in my hand. I shut my eyes, unable to look at Tamlin, bracing myself up for the impact and the agony, and pulled the third lever. Silence. The pulsing heat didn't grow closer. Then- a sigh. Lucien. I opened my eyes to find my tattooed fingers white-knuckled beneath the ink as they gripped the lever. The spikes hovered not inches from my head. Unmoving- stopped. I had won- I had...”

NumbersSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronRhysandRhysA Court Of Thorns And RosesIndecisionLucienWon
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“I'll spare you the escort duties tomorrow,' he said, shrugging as he walked to the cell door. 'But the night after, I expect you to be looking your finest.' He gave me a grin that suggested my finest wasn't very much at all. He paused by the door, but didn't dissolve into darkness. 'I've been thinking of ways to torment you when you come to my court. I'm wondering: Will assigning you to learn to read be as painful as it looked today?' He vanished into shadow before I could launch myself at him. I paced through my cell, scowling at the eye in my hand. I spat every curse I could at it, but there was no response. It took me a long while to realise that Rhysand, whether he knew it or not, had effectively kept me from shattering completely.”

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“The future I'd dreamed of was just that: a dream. I'd grow old and withered, while he would remain young for centuries, perhaps millennia. At best, I'd have decades with him before I died. Decades. That was what I was fighting for. A flash in time for them- a drop in the pool of their eons. So I greedily drank the wine, and I stopped caring about who I was and what had once mattered to me. I stopped thinking about colour, about light, about the green of Tamlin's eyes- about all those things I had still wanted to paint and now would never get to. I wasn't going to leave this mountain alive.”

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“Rhysand's moon-white skin began to darken into nothing but shadow. 'Wait.' The darkness consuming him paused. For Tamlin... for Tamlin I would sell my soul; I would give up everything I had for him to be free. 'Wait,' I repeated. The darkness vanished, leaving Rhysand in his solid form as he grinned. 'Yes?' I raised my chin as high as I could manage. 'Just two weeks?' 'Just two weeks,' he purred, and knelt before me. 'Two teensy, tiny weeks with me every month is all I ask.' 'Why? And what are to... to be the terms?' I said, fighting past the dizziness. 'Ah,' he said, adjusting the lapel of his obsidian tunic. 'If I told you those things, there'd be no fun in it, would there?' ... I couldn't think entirely of the enormity of what I was about to give- or else I might refuse again. I met Rhysand's gaze. 'Five days.' 'You're going to bargain?' Rhysand laughed under his breath. 'Ten days.' I held his stare with all my strength. 'A week.' Rhysand was silent for a long moment, his eyes travelling across my body and my face before he murmured. 'A week it is.' 'Then it's a deal,' I said. A metallic taste filled my mouth as magic stirred between us.”

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“His smile became a bit wild, and before I could brace myself, he grabbed my arm. There was a blinding, quick pain, and my scream sounded in my ears as bone and flesh were shattered, blood rushed out of me, and then- Rhysand was still grinning when I opened my eyes. I hadn't any idea how long I'd been unconscious, but my fever was gone, and my head was clear as I sat up. In face, the mud was gone, too. I felt as if I'd just been bathed. But then I lifted my left arm. 'What have you done to me?' Rhysand stood, running a hand through his short, dark hair. 'It's custom in my court for bargains to be permanently marked upon flesh.' I rubbed my left forearm and hand, the entirety of which was now covered in swirls and whorls of black ink. Even my fingers weren't spared, and a large eye was tattooed in the centre of my palm. It was feline, and it's slitted pupil stared right back at me. 'Make it go away,' I said, and he laughed. 'You humans are truly grateful creatures, aren't you?' From the distance, the tattoo looked like an elbow-length lace glove, but when I held it close to my face, I could detect the intricate depictions of flowers and curves that flowed throughout to make up a larger pattern. Permanent. Forever. 'You didn't tell me this would happen.' 'You didn't ask. So how am I to blame?' He walked to the door but lingered, even as pure night wafted off his shoulders. 'Unless this lack of gratitude and appreciation is because you fear a certain High Lord's reaction.' Tamlin. I could already see his face going pale, his lips becoming thin as the claws came out. I could almost hear the growl he'd emit when he asked me what I had been thinking. 'I think I'll wait to tell him until the moment's right, though,' Rhysand said. The gleam in his eyes told me enough. Rhysand hadn't done any of this to save me, but rather to hurt Tamlin. And I'd fallen into his trap- fallen into it worse than the worm had fallen into mine.”

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“Each of us has a beast roaming beneath our skin, roaring to get out. While your Tamlin prefers fur, I find wings and talons to be more entertaining.' A lick of cold kissed down my spine. 'Can you shift now, or did she take that, too?' 'So many questions from a little human.' But the darkness that hovered around him began to writhe and twist and flare as he rose to his feet. I blinked, and it was done. I lifted the iron poker, just a little bit. 'Not a full shift, you see,' Rhysand said, clicking the black razor-sharp talons that had replaced his fingers. Below the knee, darkness stained his skin- but talons also gleamed in lieu of toes. 'I don't particularly like yielding wholly to my baser side.' Indeed, it was still Rhysand's face, his powerful male body, but flaring out behind him were massive black membranous wings- like a bat's, like the Attor's. He tucked them in neatly behind him, but the single claw at the apex of each peeked over his broad shoulders. Horrific, stunning- the face of a thousand nightmares and dreams. That again-useless part of me stirred at the sight, the way the candlelight shone through the wings, illuminating the veins, the way it bounced off his talons. Rhysand rolled his neck, and it all vanished in a flash- the wings, the talons, the feet, leaving only the male behind, well-dressed and unruffled. 'No attempts at flattery?' I had made a very, very big mistake in offering my life to him. But I said. 'You have a high-enough opinion of yourself already. I doubt the flattery of a little human matters much to you.' He let out a low laugh that slid along my bones, warming my blood. 'I can't decide whether I should consider you admirable or very stupid for being so bold with a High Lord.' Only around him did I have trouble keeping my mouth shut, it seemed.”

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“From the neck up, I was regal: my face was adorned with cosmetics- rouge on my lips, a smearing of gold dust on my eyelids, kohl lining my eyes- and my hair was coiled around a small golden diadem imbedded with lapis lazuli. But from the neck down, I was a heathen god's play-thing. They had continued the pattern of the tattoo on my arm, and once the blue-black paint had dried, they placed on me a gauzy white dress. If you could call it a dress. It was little more than two long shafts of gossamer, just wide enough to cover my breasts, pinned at each shoulder with gold brooches. The sections flowed down to a jewelled belt slung low across my hips, where they joined into a single piece of fabric that hung between my legs and to the floor. It barely covered me, and from the cold air on my skin, I knew that most of my backside was left exposed.”

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“Your second trial is tomorrow night,' he said neutrally. The gold and silver thread in his black tunic shone in the candlelight. He never wore another colour. It was like a stone to the head. I'd lost count of the days. 'So?' 'It could be your last,' he said, and leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms. 'If you're taunting me into playing another game of yours, you're wasting your breath.' 'Aren't you going to beg me to give you a night with your beloved?' 'I'll have that night, and all the ones after, when I beat her final task.' Rhysand shrugged, then flashed a grin as he pushed off the door and stepped toward me. 'I wonder if you were this prickly with Tamlin when you were his captive.' 'He never treated me like a captive- or a slave.' 'No- and how could he? Not with the shame of his father and brothers' brutality always weighing on him, the poor, noble beast.”

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“Who would have thought that the self-righteous human girl couldn't read?' 'Keep your damned mouth shut about it.' 'Me? I wouldn't dream of telling anyone. Why waste that kind of knowledge on petty gossip?' If I'd had the strength, I would have leaped on him and ripped him apart. 'You're a disgusting bastard.' 'I'll have to ask Tamlin if that kind of flattery won his heart.”

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“Shameful,' Rhysand purred, and we whirled to find him faintly illuminated by the light that broke in through the doorway. But he stood behind us- father into the passage, rather than toward the door. He hadn't come in through the throne room. With that ability of his, he had probably walked through the walls. 'Just shameful.' He stalked toward us. Tamlin remained holding me. 'Look at what you've done to my pet.' Panting, neither of us said anything. But the air became a cold kiss upon my skin- upon my exposed breasts. 'Amarantha would be greatly aggrieved if she knew her little warrior was dallying with the human help,' Rhysand went on, crossing his arms. 'I wonder how she'd punish you. Or perhaps she'd stay true to habit and punish Lucien. He still has one eye to lose, after all. Maybe she'll put it in a ring, too.' Ever so slowly, Tamlin removed my hands from his body and stepped out of my embrace. 'I'm glad to see you're being reasonable,' Rhysand said, and Tamlin bristled. 'Now, be a clever High Lord and buckle your belt and fix your clothes before you go out there.' Tamlin looked at me, and, to my horror, did as Rhysand instructed. My High Lord never took his eyes off my face as he straightened his tunic and hair, then retrieved and fastened his belt again. The paint on his hands and clothes- paint from me- vanished. 'Enjoy your party,' Rhysand crooned, pointing to the door. Tamlin's green eyes flickered as they continued to stare into mine. He softly said, 'I love you.' Without another glance at Rhysand, he left.”

Sarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronRhysandRhysA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinObeyingCondescendingCaught In The Act
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“I couldn't. I couldn't do it. It wasn't like hunting; it wasn't for survival or defence. It was cold-blooded murder- the murder of them, of my very soul. But for Prythian- for Tamlin, for all of them here, for Alis and her boys... I wished I knew the name of one of our forgotten gods so that I might beg them to intercede, wished I knew any prayers at all for guidance, for absolution. But I did not know those prayers, or the names of our forgotten gods- only the names of those who would remain enslaved if I did not act. I silently recited those names, even as the horror of what knelt before me began to swallow me whole. For Prythian, for Tamlin, for their world and my own... These deaths would not be wasted- even if it would damn me forever.”

SurvivalMurderSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronDesperationA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinEnslavementPrythian
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“It wasn't until I was again staring down at my own broken body that I realised whose eyes I'd been seeing through. But Rhysand didn't come any closer to my corpse, not as rushing paws- then a flash of light, then footsteps- filled the air. The beast was already gone. Amarantha's blood had vanished from his face, his tunic, as Tamlin slammed to his knees. He scooped up my limp, broken body, cradling me to his chest. He hadn't removed his mask, but I saw the tears that fell onto my filthy tunic, and I heard the shuddering sobs that broke from him as he rocked me, stroking my hair. 'No,' someone breathed- Lucien, his sword dangling from his hand. Indeed, there were many High Fae and faeries who watched with damp eyes as Tamlin held me. I wanted to get to Tamlin. I wanted to touch him, to beg for his forgiveness for what I'd done, for the other bodies on the floor, but I was so far away.”

Sarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronDeadRhysandHeartbreakingA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinLucienSobbing
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“Rhysand stepped forward, bring my shred of soul with him, and I found Tamlin staring at me- at us. 'For what she gave,' Rhysand said, extending a hand, 'we'll bestow what our predecessors have granted to few before.' He paused. 'This makes us even,' he added, and I felt the twinkle of humour as he opened his hand and let the seed of light fall on me. Tamlin tenderly brushed aside my matted hair. His hand glowed bright as the rising sun, and in the centre of his palm, that strange, shining bud formed. 'I love you,' he whispered, and kissed me as he laid his hand on my heart.”

MagicSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronRhysandRhysI Love YouA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinResurrecting
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“Are you-' My voice sounded too loud in my ears as I pushed back against the wall of black that threatened to swallow me. Amarantha was dead. 'See for yourself,' he said. I kept my eyes on the ground as I turned. There, on the red marble, lay a golden mask, staring at me with its hollow eyeholes. 'Feyre,' Tamlin said, and he cupped my chin between his fingers, gently lifting my face. I saw that familiar chin first, then the mouth, and then- He was exactly how I dreamed he would be. He smiled at me, his entire face alight with that quiet joy I had come to love so dearly, and he brushed my hair aside. I savoured the feel of his fingers on my skin and raised my own to touch his face, to trace the contours of those high cheekbones and that lovely straight nose- the clear, broad brow, the slightly arching eyebrows that framed his green eyes. What I had done to get to this moment, to be standing here... I shoved against the thought again. In a minute, in an hour, in a day, I would think about that, force myself to face it. I put a hand on Tamlin's heart, and a steady beat echoed into my bones.”

Sarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronHeartbeatA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinFaceSmilingBroken CursesSeeing For The First Time
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“Tamlin's eyes were so green- green like the meadows of his estate. A shade that washed away the memories flooding through me, that pushed aside the evil breaking me apart bone by bone. I screamed again as my kneecaps strained, threatening to crack in two, but I saw that enchanted forest, saw that afternoon we'd lain in the grass, saw that morning we'd watched the sunrise, when for a moment- just one moment- I'd known true happiness.”

HappinessMemoriesSarah J MaasTortureFeyreFeyre ArcheronForestA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinGreen Eyes
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“I went rigid as I sensed Tamlin standing behind me, smelled the rain and spring meadow scent of him, richer than I'd ever noticed. I couldn't turn around to look at him- I couldn't... couldn't move. A High Fae- immortal. What had they done? I could hear Tamlin holding his breath- hear as he loosed it. Hear the breathing, the whispering and weeping and quiet celebrating of everyone in that hall, still watching us- watching me- some chatting praise for the glorious power of the High Lords. 'It was the only way we could save you,' Tamlin said softly.”

HearingSarah J MaasImmortalFeyreFeyre ArcheronShockedA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinHearHigh Fae
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“...every word, every breath was too loud, every smell too strong, the light too bright. Keeping still throughout it all was easier than moving, than adjusting to the strange, strong body that was now mine. I couldn't even touch my hair without the slight difference in my fingers jarring me. On and on, until every newly heightened sense was chafing and raw, and Tamlin at last noticed my dull eyes, my silence, and toom my arm.”

SensesSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinFaerieStrugglingHigh FaeHeightened Senses
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“She said he had seven times seven years before she claimed him, before he had to join her Under the Mountain. If he wanted to break her curse, he need only find a human girl willing to marry him. But not any girl- a human with ice in her heart, with hatred for our kind. A human girl willing to kill a faerie.' The ground rocked beneath me, and I was grateful for the wall I leaned against. 'Worse, the faerie she killed had to be one of his men, sent across the wall by him like lambs to slaughter. The girl could only be brought here to be courted if she killed one of his men in an unprovoked attack- killed him for hatred alone, just as Jurian had done to Clythia... So he could understand her sister's pain.' ... 'It was all a cruel joke, a clever punishment, to Amarantha. You humans loathe and fear faeries so much it would be impossible- impossible for the same girl who slaughtered a faerie in cold blood to them fall in love with one. But the spell on Tamlin could only be broken if she did just that before the forty-nine years were over- if that girl said to his face that she loved him, and meant it with her entire heart. Amarantha knows humans are preoccupied with beauty, and thus bound the masks to all of our faces, to his face, so it would be more difficult to find a girl willing to look beyond the mask, beyond his faerie nature, and to the soul beneath. Then she bound us so we couldn't say a word about the curse. Not a single word. We could hardly tell you a thing about our world, about our fate. He couldn't tell you- none of us properly could. The lies about the blight- that was the best he could do, the best we could all do. That I can tell you now... it means the game is over, to her.”

ImpossibleSarah J MaasCurseFeyreFeyre ArcheronA Court Of Thorns And RosesTamlinFaerieFall In LoveAlis
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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