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“First the shadows started- plumes of them from his back. And then, as if his rage loosened his grip on that beast he'd once told me he hated to yield to, those wings became flesh. Great, beautiful, brutal wings, membranous and clawed like a bat's, dark as night and strong as hell. Even the way he stood seemed altered- steadier, grounded. Like some final piece of him had clicked into place. But Rhysand's voice was still midnight-soft...” — Sarah J. Maas
First the shadows started- plumes of them from his back.
And then, as if his rage loosened his grip on that beast he'd once told me he hated to yield to, those wings became flesh.
Great, beautiful, brutal wings, membranous and clawed like a bat's, dark as night and strong as hell. Even the way he stood seemed altered- steadier, grounded. Like some final piece of him had clicked into place. But Rhysand's voice was still midnight-soft...