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Quote by Sarah J. Maas

“Everyone around him had some use, some mighty skill. And yet there I was... nothing more than a strange hybrid. More trouble than I was worth. 'You're not,' he said. 'Don't read my thoughts.' 'I can't help what you sometimes shout down the bond. And besides, everything is usually written on your face, if you know where to look. Which made your performance today so much more impressive.”

Quote by Sarah J. Maas

Book:A Court of Mist and Fury
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A Court of Mist and Fury

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Sarah J. Maas
Sarah J. Maas

Sarah J. Maas is an American author known for her fantasy novels. Her works are celebrated for their rich imagination, complex characters, and gripping plots. Born on March 5, 1986, Maas has developed a passion for writing from a young age and has become a successful author in her own right. more

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“And as for this one...' I tried not to flinch away from meeting his stare. 'She's mine,' he said quietly, but viciously enough that Devlon and his warriors nearby heard. 'And if any of you lay a hand on her, you lose that hand. And then you lose your head.' I tried not to shiver, as Cassian and Mor showed no reaction at all. 'And once Feyre is done killing you,' Rhys smirked, 'then I'll grind your bones to dust.”

ThreatSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronRhysandRhysProtectiveA Court Of Mist And FuryTerritorialShes Mine
Book:A Court of Mist and Fury
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“I- I'm sorry,' I breathed, my voice hoarse. 'What do you possibly have to be sorry for?' 'I didn't know. I didn't know that he'd done that-' And Rhys thought I'd been comparing him- comparing him against Tamlin, as if I held him to be some paragon... ... The people he'd loved most- gone. Slaughtered in cold blood. Slaughtered by Tamlin.”

SorrySarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronRhysandRhysA Court Of Mist And FuryComparingSlaughtered
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“His red hair was tied back, and there wasn't a hint of finery on him, just armoured leather, swords, knives... His metal eye roamed over me, his golden skin pale. 'We've been hunting you for over two months,' he breathed, now scanning the woods, the stream, the sky. Rhys. Cauldron save me. Rhys was too far back, and- 'How did you find me?' My steady, cold voice wasn't one I recognised. But- hunting for me. As if I were indeed prey. If Tamlin was here... My blood went icier than the freezing rain now sluicing down my face, into my clothes. 'Someone tipped us off you'd been out here, but it was luck that we caught your scent on the wind, and-' Lucien took a step toward me. I stepped back. Only three feet between me and the stream. Lucien's eye widened slightly. 'We need to get out of here. Tamlin's been- he hasn't been himself. I'll take you right to-' 'No,' I breathed. The word rasped through the rain, the stream, the pine forest. The four sentinels glanced between each other, then to the arrow I kept aimed. Lucien took me in again. And I could see what he was gleaming: the Illyrian fighting leathers. The colour and fullness that had returned to my face, my body. And the silent steel of my eyes. 'Feyre,' he said,' holding out a hand. 'Let's go home.' I didn't move. 'That stopped being my home the day you let him lock me up inside of it.' Lucien's mouth tightened. 'It was a mistake. We all made mistakes. He's sorry- more sorry than you realise. So am I.' He stepped toward me, and I backed up another few inches.”

FoundMistakeSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronA Court Of Mist And FuryTamlinLucienLucien VanserraAmbushed
Book:A Court of Mist and Fury
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“Feyre,' Lucien pleaded, and dared another step, his hand outraised. My arrow angled toward him, my bowstring groaning. I'd never realised that while Lucien had been trained as a warrior, Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Rhys were warriors. Cassian could wipe Lucien off the face of the earth in a single blow. 'Put the arrow down,' Lucien murmured, like he was soothing a wild animal. Behind him, the four sentinels closed in. Herding me. The High Lord's pet and possession. 'Don't,' I breathed. 'Touch. Me.' 'You don't understand the mess we're in, Feyre. We- I need you home. Now.' I didn't want to hear it. Peering at the stream below, I calculated my odds. The look cost me. Lucien lunged, hand out. One touch, that was all it'd take- I was no the High Lord's pet any longer. And maybe the world should learn that I did indeed have fangs. Lucien's finger grazed the sleeve of my leather jacket. And I became smoke and ash and night. The world stilled and bent, and there was Lucien, lunging so slowly for what was now blank space as I stepped around him, as I hurtled for the trees behind the sentinels. I stopped, and time resumed its natural flow. Lucien staggered, catching himself before he went over the cliff- and whirled, eye wide to discover me now standing behind his sentinels. Bron and Hart flinched and backed away. From me. And from Rhysand at my side. Lucien froze. I made my face a mirror of ice; the unfeeling twin to the cruel amusement on Rhysand's features as he picked at a fleck of lint on his dark tunic. Dark, elegant clothes- no wings, no fighting leathers. The unruffled, fine clothes... Another weapon. To hide just how skilled and powerful he was; to hide where he came from and what he loved. A weapon worth the cost of the magic he'd used to hide it- even if it put us at risk of being tracked.”

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“Little Lucien,' Rhys purred. 'Didn't the Lady of the Autumn Court ever tell you that when a woman says no, she means it?' 'Prick,' Lucien snarled, storming past his sentinels, but not daring to touch his weapons. 'You filthy, whoring prick.' I loosed a growl. Lucien's eyes sliced to me and he said with quiet horror, 'What have you done, Feyre?' 'Don't come looking for me again,' I said with equal softness. 'He'll never stop looking for you; never stop waiting for you to come home.' The words hit me in the gut- like they were meant to. It must have shown in my face because Lucien pressed, 'What did he do to you? Did he take your mind and-' 'Enough,' Rhys said, angling his head with that casual grace. 'Feyre and I are busy. Go back to your lands before I send your heads as a reminder to my old friend about what happens when Spring Court flunkies set foot in my territory.' The freezing rain slid down the neck of my clothes, down my back. Lucien's face was deathly pale. 'You made your point, Feyre- now come home.' 'I'm not a child playing games,' I said through my teeth. That's how they'd seen me: in need of coddling, explaining, defending... 'Careful, Lucien,' Rhysand drawled. 'Or Feyre darling will send you back in pieces, too.”

Sarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronRhysandRhysA Court Of Mist And FuryTamlinLucienLucien VanserraPatronising
Book:A Court of Mist and Fury
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“I stared at the empty space where he'd been, waiting, waiting, not letting that expression off my face until a warm, strong finger traced a line down the edge of my right wing. It felt like- like having my ear breathed into. I shuddered, arching as a gasp came out of me. And then Rhys was in front of me, scanning my face, the wings behind me. 'How?' 'Shape-shifting,' I managed to say, watching the rain slide down his golden-tan face. And it was distracting enough that the talons, the wings, the rippling darkness faded, and I was left light and cold in my own skin. Shape-shifting... at the sight of part of the history, the male I had not really let myself remember. Shape-shifting- a gift from Tamlin that I had not wanted, or needed... until now. Rhys's eyes softened. 'That was a very convincing performance.' 'I gave him what he wanted to see,' I murmured.”

WingsSarah J MaasFeyreFeyre ArcheronRhysandRhysA Court Of Mist And FuryPerformanceIllyrianShape Shifting
Book:A Court of Mist and Fury
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“And maybe I was exhausted and broken, but I breathed, 'I killed them.' I hadn't said the words aloud since it had happened. Cassian's lips tightened. 'I know.' Not condemnation, not praise. But grim understanding. My hands slackened as another shuddering sob worked its way through me. 'It should have been me.' And there it was. Standing there under the cloudless sky, the winter sun beating on my head, nothing around me save for rock, no shadows in which to hide, nothing to cling to... There it was. Then darkness swept in, soothing, gentle darkness- no, shade- and a sweat-slicked male body halted before me. Gentle fingers lifted my chin until I looked up... at Rhysand's face. His wings had wrapped around us, cocooned us, the sunlight casting the membrane in gold and red. Beyond us, outside, in another world, maybe, the sound of steel on steel- Cassian and Azriel sparring- began. 'You will feel that way every day for the rest of your life,' Rhysand said. This close, I could smell the sweat on him the sea-and-citrus sent beneath it. His eyes were soft. I tried to look away, but he held my chin firm. 'And I know this because I have felt that way every day since my mother and sister were slaughtered and I had to bury them myself, and even retribution didn't fix it.' He wiped away the tears on one cheek, then another. 'You can either let it wreck you, let it get you killed like it nearly did with the Weaver, or you can learn to live with it.' For a long moment, I just stared at the open, calm face- maybe his true face, the one beneath all the masks he wore to keep his people safe. 'I'm sorry- about your family,' I rasped. 'I'm sorry I didn't find a way to spare you from what happened Under the Mountain,' Rhys said with equal quiet. 'From dying. From wanting to die.' I began to shake my head, but he said, 'I have two kinds of nightmares: the one when I'm again Amarantha's whore or my friends are... And the ones where I hear your neck snap and see the light leave your eyes.' I had no answer to that- to the tenor in his rich, deep voice. So I examined the tattoos on his chest and arms, the glow of his tan skin, so golden now that he was no longer caged inside that mountain. I stopped my perusal when I got to the vee of muscles that flowed beneath the waist of his leather pants.”

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Book:A Court of Mist and Fury
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