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“I studied the wings, the arm around my waist. 'Please don't drop me. And please don't-' We shot into the sky, fast as a shooting star. Before my yelp finished echoing, the city had yawned wide beneath us. Rhys's hand slid under my knees while the other wrapped around my back and ribs, and we flapped up, up, up into the star-freckled night, into the liquid dark and singing wind. The city lights dropped away until Velaris was a rippling velvet blanket littered with jewels, until the music no longer reached even our pointed ears. The air was chill, but no wind other than a gentle breeze brushed my face- even as we soared with magnificent precision for the House of Wind. Rhys' body was hard and warm against mine, a solid force of nature crafted and honed for this. Even the smell of him reminded me of the wind- rain and salt and something citrus-y I couldn't name. We swerved into an updraft, rising so fast it was instinct to clutch his black tunic as my stomach clenched. I scowled at the soft laugh that ticked my ear. 'I expected more screaming from you. I must not be trying hard enough.' 'Do not,' I hissed, focusing on the approaching tiara of lights in the eternal wall of the mountain. With the sky wheeling overhead and the lights shooting past below, up and down became mirrors- until we were sailing through a sea of stars. Something tight in my chest eased a fraction of its grip.” — Sarah J. Maas