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Quote by Sarah J. Maas

“So, I wrote back, At least you make up for your shameless flirting by being one hell of a High Lord. He'd returned that evening, smirking like a cat, and had merely said 'One hell of a High Lord?' by way of greeting. I'd sent a bucket's worth of water splashing into his face. Rhys hadn't bothered to shield against it. And instead shook his wet hair like a dog, spraying me until I yelped and darted away. His laughter had chased me up the stairs.”

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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“You are young, child. You have much to learn about the ways of the world-' 'Do not,' Rhys said with deadly quiet, 'condescend to her.' The eldest queen- who was but a child to him, to his centuries of existence- had the good sense to look nervous at that tone. Rhys's eyes were glazed, his face as unforgiving as his voice as he went on, 'Do not insult Feyre for speaking with her heart, with compassion for those who cannot defend themselves, when you speak from only selfishness and cowardice.' The eldest stiffened. 'For the greater good-' 'Many atrocities,' Rhys purred, 'have been done in the name of the greater good.”

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Book:A Court of Mist and Fury
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“What's wrong?' His wings were nowhere to be seen, not even the shadow of them. 'I'm debating asking you to stay tomorrow.' I crossed my arms. 'I thought I was going.' Don't lock me up in this house, don't shove me aside- He ran a hand through his hair. 'What I ahve to be tomorrow, who I have to become, is not... it's not something I want you to see. How I will treat you, treat others...' 'The mask of the High Lord,' I said quietly. 'Yes.' He took a seat on the bottom step of the stairs. I remained in the centre of the foyer as I asked carefully. 'Why don't you want me to see that?' 'Because you've only started to look at me like I'm not a monster, and I can't stomach the idea of anything you see tomorrow, being beneath the mountain, putting you back into that place where I found you.' Beneath the mountain- underground. Yes, I'd forgotten that. Forgotten I'd see the court Amarantha had modelled her own after, that I'd be trapped beneath the earth... But with Cassian and Azriel, and Mor. With... him. I waited for the panic, the cold sweat. Neither came. 'Let me help. In whatever way I can.' Blackness shaded the starlight in those eyes. 'The role you will have to play is not a pleasant one.' 'I trust you,' I sat beside him on the stairs, close enough that the heat of his body warmed the chill night air clinging to my overcoat.”

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“I pinched the rock-hard muscle of his forearm. Rhys flashed me a wicked grin before he titled down- Mountains and snow and trees and sun and utter free fall through wisps of cloud- A breathless scream came out of me as we plummeted. Throwing my arms around his neck was instinct. His low laugh ticked my nape. 'You're willing to brave my brand of darkness and put up one of your own, willing to go to a watery grave and take on the Weaver, but a little free fall makes you scream?' 'I'll leave you to rot next time you have a nightmare,' I hissed, my eyes still shut and body locked as he snapped out his wings to ease to a steady glide. 'No, you won't,' he crooned. 'You liked seeing me naked too much.' 'Prick.' His laugh rumbled again me. Eyes closed, the wind roaring like an animal, I adjusted my position, gripping him tighter.”

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“And then Rhysand appeared. He had released the damper on his power, on who he was. His power filled the throne room, the castle, the mountain. The world. It had no end and no beginning. No wings. No weapons. No sign of the warrior. Nothing but the elegant, cruel High Lord the world believed him to be. His hands were in his pockets, his black tunic seeming to gobble up the light. And on his head sat a crown of stars. No sign of the male who had been drinking on the roof; no sign of the fallen prince kneeling on his bed. The full impact of him threatened to sweep me away. Here- here was the most powerful High Lord ever born. The face of dreams and nightmares. Rhys's eyes met mine briefly from across the room as he strolled between the pillars. To the throne that was his by blood and sacrifice and might. My own blood sang at the power that thrummed from him, at the sheer beauty of him.”

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“Rhysand whispered to me, his other hand now stroking the bare skin of my ribs in lazy indolent circles, 'Try not to let it go to your head.' I knew they could all hear it. So did he. I stared at their bowed heads, my heart hammering, but said with moonlight smoothness, 'What?' Rhys's breath caressed my ear, the twin to the breath he'd brushed against it merely an hour ago in the skies. 'That every male in here is contemplating what they'd be willing to give up in order to get that pretty, red mouth of yours on them.' I waited for the blush, the shyness, to creep in. But I was beautiful. I was strong. I had survived- triumphed. As Mor had survived in this horrible, poisoned house. So I smiled a bit, the first smile of my new mask. Let them see the pretty, red mouth, and my white, straight teeth. His hand slid higher up my thigh, the propriety touch of a male who knew he owned someone body and soul.”

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“But it seems true. Tamlin's pet is now owned by another master.' 'You should see how I make her beg,' Rhys murmured, nudging my neck with his nose. Keir clasped his hands behind his back, 'I assume you brought her here to make a statement.' 'You know everything I do is a statement.' 'Of course. This one, it seems, you enjoy putting in cobwebs and crowns.' Rhys's hand paused, and I sat straighter at the tone, the disgust. And I said to Keir in a voice that belonged to another woman, 'Perhaps I'll put a leash on you.' Rhys's approval tapped against my mental shield, the hand at my ribs now making lazy circles. 'She does enjoy playing,' he mused onto my shoulder.”

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“I let my head drop back against his shoulder. I let go of the part of me that heard their words- whore, whore, whore- Let go of the part that said those words alongside them- traitor, liar, whore- And I just became. I became the music, and the drums, and the wild, dark thing in the High Lord's arms. His eyes were wholly glazed- and not with power or rage. Something red-hot and edged with glittering darkness exploded in my mind.”

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“While Under the Mountain had been a series of halls and rooms and levels, this... this was truly a city. The walkway that Mor led us down was an avenue, and around us, rising high into gloom, were buildings and spires, homes and bridges. A metropolis carved from the dark stone of the mountain itself, no inch of it left unmarked or without some lovely, hideous artwork etched into it. Figures danced and fornicated; begged and revelled. Pillars were carved to look like curving vines of night-blooming flowers. Water ran throughout in little streams and rivers tapped from the heart of the mountain itself. The Hewn City. A place of such terrible beauty that it was an effort to keep the wonder and dread off my face. ... Mor led me down the avenue toward another set of stone gates, thrown open at the base of what looked to be a castle within the mountain. The official seat of the High Lord of the Night Court. Great scaled black beasts were carved into those gates, all coiled together in a nest of claws and fangs, sleeping and fighting, some locked in an endless cycle of devouring each other. Between them flowed vines of jasmine and moonflowers. I could have sworn the beasts seemed to writhe in the silvery glow of the bobbing faelights throughout the mountain-city.”

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Book:A Court of Mist and Fury
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