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“Tamlin surveyed the hand Rhys had resting on my sparkling knee. The loathing in Tamlin's eyes practically simmered. No one, not even Amarantha, had ever looked at me with such hatred. No, Amarantha hadn't really known me- her loathing had been superficial, driven from a personal history that poisoned everything. Tamlin... Tamlin knew me. And now hated every inch of what I was. He opened his mouth, and I braced myself. 'It would seem congratulations are in order.' The words were flat- flat and yet sharp as his claws, currently hidden beneath his golden skin. I said nothing. Rhys only held Tamlin's stare. Held it was a face like ice, and yet utter rage roiled beneath it. Cataclysmic rage, surging and writhing down the bond between us.” — Sarah J. Maas