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