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Sarah J. Maas

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“You're my friend.' The words hung between them. His head dipped again, as if he could hide the expression on his face as he amended, 'If you would like me to be.' For a moment, she stared at him. The offer thrown out there. The quiet vulnerability. It erased any annoyance still in her veins. 'Didn't you know, Athalar?' The tentative hope in his face nearly destroyed her. 'We've been friends from the moment you thought Jelly Jubilee was a dildo.”

“So, you mean to tell me,' Emerie muttered from the side of her mouth as they stood in the training ring two days later, 'that you got into a fight with your family, disappeared for a week with Cassian, and came back able to use an actual sword, but I'm supposed to believe you when you say nothing happened?' ... 'That's exactly what I'm telling you.' 'Tell me you at least had a week's worth of sex,' Emerie muttered. Nesta choked on a laugh as Cassian stiffened across the ring- but he didn't turn. 'There might have been some.”

“You were the only ones who came to help. The only ones. And yet you asked for nothing in return. Why?' Rhys's voice was a bit hoarse as he asked, 'Isn't that what friends do?' A subtle, quiet offer. Tarquin took him in. Then me. And the others. 'I rescind the blood rubies. Let there be no debts between us.' 'Don't expect Amren to return hers,' Cassian muttered. 'She's grown attached to it.' I could have sworn a smile tugged at Varian's mouth.”

“What does it say?' 'Utter nonsense,' Amren spat, scowling at the Book. 'It just likes to hear itself talk. Like most of the people cramping up my apartment.' Cassian smirked. 'Did someone forget to feed Amren again?' She pointed a warning finger at him without so much as looking up. 'Is there a reason, Rhysand, why you dragged your yapping pack into my home?”

“Cassian strutted in at last, greeting Mor with a chipper, 'You look terrible- Helion keep you up all night?' She threw her spoon at him. Then her porridge. Cassian caught the first and shielded against the other, his Siphon blazing like an awakening ember. Porridge slid to the floor. 'Helion wanted you to join,' she mildly replied, refilling her tea. 'Quite badly.' 'Maybe next time,' Cassian said.”

“...it's too bad bad you're not like the Suriel, spouting any information I want if I'm clever enough to snare you.' For a moment, he blinked at me. Then his mouth twisted to the side and that metal eye whizzed and narrowed on me. 'I suppose you won't tell me what you want to know.' 'You have your secrets, and I have mine,' I said carefully. I couldn't tell whether he would try to convince me otherwise if I told him the truth. 'But if you were a Suriel,' I added with deliberate slowness, in case he hadn't caught my meaning, 'how, exactly, would I trap you?' Lucien set down the knife and picked at his nails. For a moment, I wondered if he would tell me anything at all. Wondered if he would go right to Tamlin and tattle. But then he said. 'I'd probably have a weakness for groves of young birch trees in the western woods, and freshly slaughtered chickens, and would probably be so greedy that I wouldn't notice the double-loop snare rigged around the grove to pin my legs in place.' 'Hmm,' I didn't dare ask why he had decided to be so accommodating. There was still a good chance he wouldn't mind seeing me dead, but I would risk it. 'I somehow prefer you as a High Fae.' He smirked, but the amusement was short-lived. 'If I were insane and stupid enough to go after a Suriel, I'd also take a bow and quiver, and maybe a knife just like this one.' He sheathed the knife he'd cleaned and set it down on the edge of the table- an offering. 'And I'd be prepared to run like hell when I freed it- to the nearest running water, which they hate crossing.' 'But you're not insane, so you'll be here, safe and sound?' 'I'll be conveniently hunting on the grounds, and with my superior hearing, I might be feeling generous enough to listen if someone screams from the western woods. But it's a good thing I had no role in telling you to go out today, since Tam would eviscerate anyone who told you how to trap a Suriel; and it's a good thing I had planned to hunt anyway, because if anyone caught me helping you, there would be trouble of a whole other hell awaiting us. I hope your secrets are worth it.' He said it with his usual grin, but there was an edge to it- a warning I didn't miss. Another riddle- and another bit of information. I said, 'It's a good thing that while you have superior hearing, I possess superior abilities to keep my mouth shut.' He snorted as I took the knife from the table and turned to procure the bow from my room. 'I think I'm starting to like you- for a murdering human.”

“Lucien snorted at the sight of me. 'Those clothes are enough to convince me I never want to enter the human realm.' 'I'm not sure the human realm would know what to do with you,' I said. Lucien's smile was edged, his shoulders tight as he gave a sharp look behind me to where Tam was waiting in front of a gilded carriage. When he turned back, that metal eye narrowed. 'I thought you were smarter than this.' 'Good-bye to you, too,' I said. Friend indeed.”

“You think I'm some busybody gossip? My life is miserable enough as it is- why would I want to spread that misery to those around me as well?' 'Is it miserable? Your life, I mean.' A careful question. 'I don't know. Everything is happening so quickly that I don't know what to feel.' It was more honest than I'd been in a while. 'Hmmm. Perhaps once we return home, I should give you the day off.' 'How considerate of you, my lord.' He snorted, unbuttoning his jacket. I realised I stood in all my finery- with nothing to wear to sleep. A snap of Rhys's fingers, and my nightclothes- and some flimsy underthings- appeared on my bed. 'I couldn't decide which scrap of lace I wanted you to wear, so I brought you a few to choose from.' 'Pig,' I barked, snatching the clothes and heading to the adjoining bathing room.”

“Rhys took in the painting I'd done, gobbling down the bright colours that now made the cottage come alive, and said, 'You painted us.' 'I hope you don't mind.' He studied the threshold to the bedroom hallway. 'Azriel, Mor, Amren, and Cassian,' he said, marking the eyes I'd painted. 'You do know that one of them is going to paint a moustache under the eyes of whoever pisses them off that day.' I clamped my lips to keep the smile in. 'Oh, Mor already promised to do that.' 'And what about my eyes?' I swallowed. All right, then. No dancing around it. My heart was pounding so wildly I knew he could hear it. 'I was afraid to paint them.' Rhys faced me fully. 'Why?' No more games, no more banter. 'At first, because I was so mad at you for not telling me. Then because I was worried I'd like them too much and find that you... didn't feel the same. Then because I was scared that if I painted them, I'd start wishing you were here so much that I'd just stare at them all day. And it seemed like a pathetic way to spend my time.' A twitch of his lips. 'Indeed.”

“Az, this one's for you.' The shadowsinger's brows lifted, but his scarred hand extended to take the present. Elain turned from where she'd been spreaking to Nesta. 'Oh, that's from me.' Azriel's face didn't so much as shift at the words. Not even a smile as he opened the present and revealed- 'I had Madja make it for me,' Elain explained. Azriel's brows narrowed at the mention of the family's preferred healer. 'It's a powder to mix in with any drink.' Silence. Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. 'It's for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.' Silence again. Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I'd never heard such a sound, deep and joyous. Cassian and Rhys joined him, the former grabbing the bottle from Azriel's hand and examining it. 'Brilliant, 'Cassian said. Elain smiled again, ducking her head. Azriel mastered himself enough to say, 'Thank you.' I'd never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and grey like veins of emerald. 'This will be invaluable.' 'Prick, ' Cassian said, but laughed again.”

“The same bowl of pork-and-bean soup appeared on the table. She peered at the distant ceiling. 'I said I'm not hungry.' A spoon appeared alongside the bowl. And a napkin. 'This is absolutely none of your business.' A glass of water thudded down next to the soup. Nesta crossed her arms, leaning back in the chair.”

“A great elk lay dead on the long worktable in the centre of the dark space, the arrow through its throat illumined by the watery light leaking through the small windows. Blood pooled on the grey stone floor, its drip the only sound. The only sound as Tamlin sat in a chair before it. Staring at the felled beast. 'Your dinner is leaking,' I told him by way of greeting, nodding toward the mess gathering on the floor. No reply. The High Lord of Spring didn't so much as up at me.”

“What about your part of the bargain?' 'What?' He leaned closer, his smile turning wicked. 'What about my kiss?' I grabbed his fingers. 'Here,' I said, and slammed my mouth against the back of his hand. 'There's your kiss.' Tamlin roared with laughter, but the world blurred, lulling me to sleep.”

“You need to get out in the practice ring more, brother,' Cassian told him, surveying his friend's powerful body. 'Don't want that mate of yours to find any soft bits.' 'She never finds any soft bits when I'm around her,' Rhys said, and Cassian laughed again. 'Is Feyre going to kick your ass for what you said earlier?' 'I already told the servants to clear out for the rest of the day as soon as you take Nesta up to the House.' 'I think the servants hear you fighting plenty.' Indeed, Feyre had no hesitation when it came to telling Rhys that he'd stepped out of line. Rhys threw him a wicked smile. 'It's not the fighting I don't want them hearing.' Cassian grinned right back, even as something like jealousy tugged on his gut. He didn't begrudge them their happiness- not at all. There were plenty of times when he'd seen the joy on Rhys's face and have to walk away to keep from weeping, because his brother had waited for that love, earned it. Rhys had gone to the mat again and again to fight for that future with Feyre. For this. But sometimes, Cassian saw that mating ring, and the portrait behind the desk, and this house, and just... wanted. The clock chimed ten thirty, and Cassian rose. 'Enjoy your not-fighting.”

“We can use your room if you like, but...' He was leaning against his open bedroom door. 'Either your room or mine- but we're sharing one from now on. Just tell me whether I should move myh clothes or yours. If that's all right with you.' 'Don't you- you don't want your own space?' 'No,' he said baldly. 'Unless you do. I need you protecting me from our enemies with your water wolves.' I snorted. He'd made me tell him that part of my tale over and over. I jerked my chin toward his bedroom. 'Your bed is bigger.' And that was that. I walked in to find my clothes already there, a second armoire now beside his. I stared at all the open space around us.”

“So I'm to live here forever, in ignorance of the true scope of what's happening? If you don't want me to understand what's going on... would you rather...' I swallowed hard. 'Rather I found someplace else to live? Where I'm not a distraction?' 'Didn't Calanmai teach you anything?' 'Only that magic makes you into a brute.' He laughed, though not entirely with amusement. When I remained silent, he sighed. 'No, I don't want you to live somewhere else. I want you here, where I can look after you- where I can come home and know you're here, painting and safe.' I couldn't look away from him.”

“Do you like it?' he repeated, and his lips tugged into a smile. I took an uneven breath and stared at the glen again. 'Yes.' He chuckled. 'That's it? 'Yes'?' 'Would you like me to grovel with gratitude for bringing me here, High Lord?' 'Ah. The Suriel told you nothing important, did it?' That smile of his sparked something bold in my chest. 'He also said that you like being brushed, and if I'm a clever girl, I might train you with treats.' Tamlin tipped his head to the sky and roared with laughter. Despite myself, I let out a soft laugh. 'I might die of surprise,' Lucien said behind me. 'You made a joke, Feyre.' I turned to look at him with a cool smile. 'You don't want to know what the Suriel said about you.' I flicked my brows up, and Lucien lifted his hands in defeat. 'I'd pay good money to hear what the Suriel thinks of Lucien,' Tamlin said. A cork popped, followed by the sounds of Lucien chugging the bottle's contents and chuckling with a muttered. 'Brushed.”

“Doesn't count when you use your hands to do most of the work.' Nesta schooled her face into utter disdain, even as a hiss rose inside her. 'I bet that isn't what you've been telling yourself at night.' Azriel's shoulders shook with silent laughter as Cassian set down his fork, his eyes gleaming with challenge. Cassian's voice dropped an octave. 'Is that what those smutty books teach you? That it's only at night?' It took a heartbeat for the words to settle. And she couldn't stop it, the heat that sprang to her face, her glance at his powerful hands. Even with Azriel now biting his lip to keep from laughing, she couldn't stop herself. Cassian said with a wicked smile, 'It could be anytime- dawn's first light, or when I'm bathing, or even after a long, hard day of practice.' She didn't miss the slight emphasis he put on long, hard. Nesta couldn't stop her toes from curling in her boots. But she said with a silent smile, striding for the doorway, refusing to let one bit of the discomfort in her sore legs show, 'Sounds like you have a lot of time on your hands, Cassian.”

“I don't know what the two of you have been doing in this House, but it reeks of sex. Cassian snorted. A polite male never tells. Rhys's laughter rumbled in his mind. I don't think you know what the word polite means. Thanks the gods for that. His brother laughed again. I old Az playing chaperone would be useless.”

“My knuckles brushed one of his wings- smooth and cool like silk, but hard as stone with it stretched taut. Fascinating, I blindly reached again... and dared to run a fingertip along some inner edge. Rhysand shuddered, a soft groan slipping past my ear. 'That,' he said tightly, 'is very sensitive.' I snatched my finger back, pulling away far enough to see his face. With the wind, I had to squint, and my braided hair ripped this way and that, but- he was entirely focused on the mountains around us. 'Does it tickle?' He flicked his gaze to me, then to the snow and pine that went on forever. 'It feels like this,' he said, and leaned in so close that his lips brushed the shell of my ear as he sent a gentle breath into it. My back arched on instinct, my chin tipping up at the caress of that breath. 'Oh,' I managed to say, I felt him smile against my ear and pull away. 'If you want an Illyrian male's attention, you'd be better off grabbing him by the balls. We're trained to protect our wings at all costs. Some males attack first, ask questions later, if their wings are touched without invitation.' 'And during sex?' The question blurted out. Rhys's face was nothing but feline amusement as he monitored the mountains. 'During sex, an Illyrian male can find completion just by having someone touch his wings in the right spot.' My blood thrummed. Dangerous territory; more lethal than the drop below. 'Have you found that to be true?' His eyes stripped me bare. 'I've never allowed anyone to see or touch my wings during sex. It makes you vulnerable in a way that I'm not... comfortable with.' 'Too bad,' I said, staring out too casually toward the mighty mountain that now appeared on the horizon, towering over the others. And capped, I noted, with that glimmering palace of moonstone. 'Why?' he asked warily. I shrugged, fighting the upward tugging of my lips. 'Because I bet you could get into some interesting positions with those wings.' Rhys loosed a barking laugh, and his nose grazed my ear. I felt him open his mouth to whisper something, but- Something dark and fast and sleek shot for us, and he plunged down and away, swearing.”

“Cassian tried to convince me last night not to take you. I thought he might even punch me.' 'Why?' I barely knew him. 'Who knows? With Cassian, he's probably more interested in fucking you than protecting you.' 'You're a pig.' 'You could, you know,' Rhys said, holding up the branch of a scrawny beech for me to slip under. 'If you needed to move on in a physical sense, I'm sure Cassian would be more than happy to oblige.' It felt like a test in itself. And it pissed me off enough that I crooned, 'Then tell him to come to my room tonight.' 'If you survive this test.' I paused atop a little lichen-crusted rock. 'You seem pleased by the idea that I won't.' 'Quite the opposite, Feyre.' He prowled to where I stood on the stone. I was almost eye level with him. The forest went even quieter- the trees seeming to lean closer, as if to catch every word. 'I'll let Cassian know you're... open to his advances.' 'Good,' I said.”

“No one warming your bed right now, Cassian? It must be so hard to be an Illyrian and have no thoughts in your head save for those about your favourite part.' 'You know I'm always happy to tangle in the sheets with you, Amren,' Cassian said, utterly unfazed by the silver eyes, the power radiating from her every pore. 'I know how much you enjoy Illyrian-”

“So those abdominal exercises are useful beyond wanting to show off your muscles?' He threw her a wry grin. 'You really think this is just for show?' 'I think I've caught you looking at yourself in that mirror at least a dozen times each lesson.' Nesta nodded to the slender mirror across the ring. He chuckled. 'Liar. You use that mirror to watch me when you think I'm not paying attention.”

“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.”

“You look... refreshed,' Lucien observed with a glance at Tamlin. I shrugged. 'Sleep well?' 'Like a babe.' I smiled at him and took another bite of food, and felt Lucien's eyes travel inexorably to my neck. 'What is that bruise?' Lucien demanded. I pointed with my fork at Tamlin. 'Ask him. He did it.' Lucien looked from Tamlin to me and then back again. 'Why does Feyre have a bruise on her neck from you?' he asked with no small amount of amusement. 'I bit her,' Tamlin said, not pausing as he cut his steak. 'We ran into each other in the hall after the Rite.' I straightened in my chair. 'She seems to have a death wise,' he went on, cutting his meat. The claws stayed retracted but pushed against the skin above his knuckles. My throat closed up. Oh, he was mad- furious at my foolishness for leaving my room- but somehow managed to keep his anger on a tight, tight leash. 'So, if Feyre can't be bothered to listen to orders, then I can't be held accountable for the consequences.' 'Accountable?' I sputtered, placing my hands flat on the table. 'You cornered me in the hall like a wolf with a rabbit!' Lucien propped an arm on the table and covered his mouth with his hand, his russet eye bright. 'While I might not have been myself, Lucien and I both told you to stay in your room,' Tamlin said, so calmly that I wanted to rip out my hair. I couldn't help it. Didn't even try to fight the red-hot temper that razed my senses. 'Faerie pig!' I yelled, and Lucien howled, almost tipping back in his chair. At the sight of Tamlin's growing smile, I left. It took me a couple of hours to stop painting little portraits of Tamlin and Lucien with pigs' features. But as I finished the last one- Two faerie pigs wallowing in their own filth, I would call it- I smiled into the clear, bright light of my private painting room. The Tamlin I knew had returned. And it made me... happy.”

“You look... refreshed,' Lucien observed with a glance at Tamlin. I shrugged. 'Sleep well?' 'Like a babe.' I smiled at him and took another bite of food, and felt Lucien's eyes travel inexorably to my neck. 'What is that bruise?' Lucien demanded. I pointed with my fork at Tamlin. 'Ask him. He did it.' Lucien looked from Tamlin to me and then back again. 'Why does Feyre have a bruise on her neck from you?' he asked with no small amount of amusement. 'I bit her,' Tamlin said, not pausing as he cut his steak. 'We ran into each other in the hall after the Rite.' I straightened in my chair. 'She seems to have a death wish,' he went on, cutting his meat. The claws stayed retracted but pushed against the skin above his knuckles. My throat closed up. Oh, he was mad- furious at my foolishness for leaving my room- but somehow managed to keep his anger on a tight, tight leash. 'So, if Feyre can't be bothered to listen to orders, then I can't be held accountable for the consequences.' 'Accountable?' I sputtered, placing my hands flat on the table. 'You cornered me in the hall like a wolf with a rabbit!' Lucien propped an arm on the table and covered his mouth with his hand, his russet eye bright. 'While I might not have been myself, Lucien and I both told you to stay in your room,' Tamlin said, so calmly that I wanted to rip out my hair. I couldn't help it. Didn't even try to fight the red-hot temper that razed my senses. 'Faerie pig!' I yelled, and Lucien howled, almost tipping back in his chair. At the sight of Tamlin's growing smile, I left. It took me a couple of hours to stop painting little portraits of Tamlin and Lucien with pigs' features. But as I finished the last one- Two faerie pigs wallowing in their own filth, I would call it- I smiled into the clear, bright light of my private painting room. The Tamlin I knew had returned. And it made me... happy.”

“Cassian asked, 'What stair did you make it to?' 'One hundred eleven.' Nesta didn't rise. 'Pathetic.' Her fingers pushed into the floor, but her body didn't move. 'This stupid House wouldn't give me wine.' 'I figured that would be the only motivator to make you risk ten thousand stairs.' Her fingers dug into the stone floor once more. He threw her a crooked smile, glad for the distraction. 'You can't get up, can you?' Her arms strained, elbows buckling. 'Go fly into a boulder.' Cassian pushed off the wall and reached her in three strides. He wrapped his hands under her arms and hauled her up. She scowled at him the entire time. Glared at him some more when she swayed and he gripped her tighter, keeping her upright. 'I knew you were out of shape,' he observed, stepping away when she'd proved she wasn't about to collapse, 'but a hundred steps? Really?' 'Two hundred, counting the ones up,' she grumbled. 'Still pathetic.' She straightened her spine and raised her chin. Keep reaching out your hand. Cassian shrugged, turning toward the hall and the stairwell that would take him up to his rooms. 'If you get tired of being weak as a mewling kitten, come to training.' He glanced over a shoulder. Nesta still panted, her face flushed and furious. 'And participate.”