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Sarah J Maas Quotes

Browse 1405 quotes about Sarah J Maas.

Sarah J Maas Quotes

“Nesta's throat constricted, and she surveyed the swaying cherry blossoms overhead. Elain would love this place. So many flowers, all in bloom, so much green- the light, vibrant green of new grass- so many birds singing and such warm, buttery sunshine. Nesta felt like a storm cloud standing amid it all. But Elain... The Spring Court had been made for someone like her. Too bad her sister refused to see her. Nesta would have told Elain to visit this place. And too bad the lord who ruled these lands was a piece of shit.”

“Your beast's little trick didn't work on me,' she said with quiet steel. 'Apparently, an iron will is all it takes to keep a glamour from digging in. So I had to watch as Father and Elain went from sobbing hysterics into nothing. I had to listen to them talk about how lucky it was for you to be taken to some made-up aunt's house, how some winter wind had shattered our door. And I thought I'd gone mad- but every time I did, I would look at that painted part of the table, then at the claw marks farther down, and know it wasn't in my head.' I'd never heard of a glamour not working. But Nesta's mind was so entirely her own; she had put up such strong walls- of steel and iron and ash wood- that even a High Lord's magic couldn't pierce them. 'Elain said- said you went to visit me, though. That you tried.' Nesta snorted, her face grave and full of that long-simmering anger that she could never master. 'He stole you away into the night, claiming some nonsense about the Treaty. And then everything went on as if it had never happened. It wasn't right. None of it was right.' My hands slackened at my sides. 'You went after me,' I said. 'You went after me- to Prythian.' 'I got to the wall. I couldn't find a way through.' I raised a shaking hand to my throat. 'You trekked two days there and two days back- through the winter woods?' She shrugged, looking at the sliver she'd pried from the table. 'I hired that mercenary from town to bring me a week after you were taken. With the money from your pelt. She was the only one who seemed like she would believe me.' 'You did that- for me?' Nesta's eyes- my eyes, our mother's eyes- met mine. 'It wasn't right,' she said again. Tamlin had been wrong when we'd discussed whether my father would have ever come after me- he didn't possess the courage, the anger. If anything, he would have hired someone to do it for him. But Nesta had gone with that mercenary. My hateful, cold sister had been willing to brave Prythian to rescue me. ... I looked at my sister, really looked at her, at this woman who couldn't stomach the sycophants who now surrounded her, who had never spent a day in the forest but had gone into wolf territory... Who had shrouded the loss of our mother, then our downfall, in icy rage and bitterness, because the anger had been a lifeline, the cruelty a release. But she had cared- beneath it, she had cared, and perhaps loved more fiercely that I could comprehend, more deeply and loyally.”

“You still have no idea what it was like for me- to be on the verge of starvation for months at a time. And you can call her a glutton all you like, but I have sisters, too, and I remember what it felt like to return home without any food.' I calmed my heaving chest, and that force beneath my skin stirred, undulating along my bones. 'So maybe she'll spend all that money on stupid things- maybe she and her sisters have no self-control. But I'm not going to take that chance and let them starve, because of some ridiculous rule that your ancestors invented.”

“What would his fear smell like if he learned she'd used him, slept with him, to keep herself at bay? To settle that writhing darkness that had simmered inside her from the moment she'd emerged from the Cauldron? Sex, music, and drink, she'd learned this past year- all of it helped. Not entirely, but it kept the power from boiling over. Even if she could still feel it streaming through her blood, coiled tight around her bones.”

“What do you want with me? Beyond taunting Tamlin?' 'Taunting him is my greatest pleasure,' he said with a mock bow. 'And as for your question, why does any male need a reason to enjoy the presence of a female?' 'You saved my life.' 'And through your life, I saved Tamlin's.' 'Why?' He winked, smoothing his blue-black hair. 'That, Feyre, is the real question, isn't it?”

“I want to touch you first, ' he said, his voice so guttural I barely recognised it. 'Just- let me touch you.' He palmed my breast for emphasis. It was enough of a broken plea that I paused, yielding as his other hand again trailed lazy lines on my stomach. I can't breathe when I look at you. Let me touch you. Because I was jealous, and pissed off... She's mine. I shut out the thoughts, the bits and pieces he'd given me.”

“Cassian surveyed her. Gazed into her eyes and breathed. 'Beautiful.' He didn't halt the hand she laid on his muscled chest. Or when she pushed against that chest, backing him into the wall, his wings splaying on impact. He just stared and stared at her, marvelling- hungry. Nesta didn't, couldn't, move as Cassian leaned to whisper in her ear. 'The first time I saw that look on your face, you were still human. Still human, and I nearly went to my knees before you.' His breath caressed the shell of her ear and she couldn't stop her eyes from fluttering shut. His smile brushed against her temple. 'Your power is a song, and one I've waited a very, very long time to hear, Nesta.”

“One thought in exchange for another,' I said. 'No training involved, please.' A chuckle rasped out of him, and he drained his glass, setting it on the tray. He watched me take a long drink from mine. 'I'm thinking,' he said, following the flick of my tongue over my bottom lip, 'that I look at you and feel like I'm dying. Like I can't breathe. I'm thinking that I want you so badly I can't concentrate half the time I'm around you, and this room is too small for me to properly bed you. Especially with the wings.' My heart stumbled a beat. I didn't know what to do with my arms, my legs, my face. I gulped down the rest of my wine and discarded the glass beside the bed, steeling my spine as I said, 'I'm thinking that I can't stop thinking about you. And that it's been that way for a long while. Even before I left the Spring Court. And maybe that makes me a traitorous, lying piece of trash, but-' 'It doesn't,' he said, his face solemn. But it did. I'd wanted to see Rhysand during those weeks between visits. And hadn't cared when Tamlin stopped visiting my bedroom. Tamlin had given up on me, but I'd also given up on him. And I was a lying piece of trash for it. I murmured, 'We should go to sleep.”

“Rhysand was silent beside me. Yet after a moment, he said, 'Out with it.' I lifted a brow. 'You say what's on your mind- one thing. And I'll say one, too.' I shook my head and turned back to the city. But Rhys said, 'I'm thinking that I spent fifty years locked Under the Mountain, and I'd sometimes let myself dream of this place, but I never expected to see it again. I'm thinking that I wish I had been the one who slaughtered her. I'm thinking that if war comes, it might be a long while yet before I get to have a night like this.' He slid his eyes to me, expectant. ... 'This was a no-questions-asked invitation. I told you... three things. Tell me one.' I stared towards the open world, the city, and the restless sea and the dry winter night. Maybe it was some shred of courage, or recklessness, or I was so high above everything that no one save Rhys and the wind could hear, but I said, 'I'm thinking that I must have been a fool in love to allow myself to be shown so little of the Spring Court. I'm thinking there's a great deal of territory I was never allowed to see or hear about and maybe I would have lived in ignorance forever like some pet. I'm thinking...' The words became choked. I shook my head as if I could clear the remaining ones away. But I still spoke them. 'I'm thinking that I was a lonely, hopeless person, and I might have fallen in love with the first thing that showed me a hint of kindness and safety. And I'm thinking maybe he knew that- maybe not actively, but maybe he wanted to be that person for someone. And maybe that worked for who I was before. Maybe it doesn't work for who- what I am now.' There. The words, hateful and selfish and ungrateful. For all Tamlin had done- The thought of his name clanged through me. Only yesterday afternoon, I had been there. No- no I wouldn't think about it. Not yet. Rhys said, 'That was five. Looks like I owe you two thoughts' He glanced behind us. 'Later.' Because the two winged males from earlier were standing in the doorway. Grinning.”

“You think I'm some busybody gossip? My life is miserable enough as it is- why would I want to spread that misery to those around me as well?' 'Is it miserable? Your life, I mean.' A careful question. 'I don't know. Everything is happening so quickly that I don't know what to feel.' It was more honest than I'd been in a while. 'Hmmm. Perhaps once we return home, I should give you the day off.' 'How considerate of you, my lord.' He snorted, unbuttoning his jacket. I realised I stood in all my finery- with nothing to wear to sleep. A snap of Rhys's fingers, and my nightclothes- and some flimsy underthings- appeared on my bed. 'I couldn't decide which scrap of lace I wanted you to wear, so I brought you a few to choose from.' 'Pig,' I barked, snatching the clothes and heading to the adjoining bathing room.”

“Rhys took in the painting I'd done, gobbling down the bright colours that now made the cottage come alive, and said, 'You painted us.' 'I hope you don't mind.' He studied the threshold to the bedroom hallway. 'Azriel, Mor, Amren, and Cassian,' he said, marking the eyes I'd painted. 'You do know that one of them is going to paint a moustache under the eyes of whoever pisses them off that day.' I clamped my lips to keep the smile in. 'Oh, Mor already promised to do that.' 'And what about my eyes?' I swallowed. All right, then. No dancing around it. My heart was pounding so wildly I knew he could hear it. 'I was afraid to paint them.' Rhys faced me fully. 'Why?' No more games, no more banter. 'At first, because I was so mad at you for not telling me. Then because I was worried I'd like them too much and find that you... didn't feel the same. Then because I was scared that if I painted them, I'd start wishing you were here so much that I'd just stare at them all day. And it seemed like a pathetic way to spend my time.' A twitch of his lips. 'Indeed.”

“I said quietly, 'Why did you make that bargain with me? Why demand a week from me every month?' His violet eyes shuttered. And I didn't dare admit what I expected, but it was not, 'Because I wanted to make a statement to Amarantha; because I wanted to piss off Tamlin, and I needed to keep you alive in a way that wouldn't be seen as merciful.' 'Oh.' His mouth tightened. 'You know- you know there is nothing I wouldn't do for my people, for my family.' And I'd been a pawn in that game.”

“He reached for something at his side and tossed it to me. I had to fight to stay in the saddle as I fumbled for it- a jewelled hunting knife. 'I heard you scream,' he said as I examined the blade in my hands. I'd never held one so finely crafted, so perfectly balanced. 'And I hesitated. Not long, but I hesitated before I came running. Even though Tam got there in time, I still broke my word in those seconds I waited.' He jerked his chin at the knife. 'It's yours. Don't bury it in my back, please.”

“The boy's smile was a mockery of innocence. 'Are you frightened?' 'Yes,' I said. Never lie- that had been Rhys's first command. The boy stood, but kept to the other side of the cell. 'Feyre,' he murmured, cocking his head. The orb of faelight glazed the inky hair in silver. 'Fay-ruh,' he said again, drawing out the syllables as if he could taste them. At last, he straightened his head. ''Where did you go when you died?' 'A question for a question,' I replied, as I'd been instructed over breakfast. ... Rhys gave me a subtle nod, but his eyes were wary. Because what the boy had asked... I had to calm my breathing to think- to remember. But there was blood and death and pain and screaming- and she was breaking me, killing me so slowly, and Rhys was there, roaring in fury as I died. Tamlin begging for my life on his knees before her throne... But there was so much agony, and I wanted it to be over, wanted it all to stop- Rhys had gone rigid while he monitored the Bone Carver, as if those memories were freely flowing past the mental shields I'd made sure were intact this morning. And I wondered if he thought I'd give up then and there. I bunched my hands into fists. I had lived; I had gotten out. I would get out today. 'I heard the crack,' I said. Rhys's head whipped toward me. 'I heard the crack when she broke my neck. It was in my ears, but also inside my skull. I was gone before I felt anything more than the first lash of pain.' The Bone Carver's violet eyes seemed to glow brighter. 'And then it was dark. A different sort of dark than this place. But there was a... thread,' I said. 'A tether. And I yanked on it- and suddenly I could see. Not through my eyes, but- but his,' I said, inclining my head toward Rhys. I uncurled the finger of my tattooed hand. 'And I knew I was dead, and this tiny scrap was all that was left of me, clinging to the thread of our bargain.' 'But was there anyone there- were you seeing anything beyond?' 'There was only that bond in the darkness.' Rhysand's face had gone pale, his mouth a tight line. 'And when I was Made anew,' I said, 'I followed that bond back- to me. I knew that home was on the other end of it. There was light then. Like swimming up through sparkling wine-' 'Were you afraid?' 'All I wanted was to return to- to the people around me. I wanted it badly enough I didn't have room for fear. The worst had happened and the darkness was calm and quiet. It did not seem like a bad thing to fade into. But I wanted to go home. So I followed the bond home.' 'There was no other world,' the Bone Carver pushed. 'If there was or is, I did not see it.' 'No light, no portal?' Where is it that you want to go? The question almost leaped off my tongue. 'It was only peace and darkness.' 'Did you have a body?' 'No.' 'Did-' 'That's enough from you,' Rhysand purred- the sound like velvet over sharpest steel. 'You said a question for a question. Now you've asked...' He did a tally on his fingers. 'Six.' The Bone Carver leaned back against the wall and slid to a sitting position. 'It is a rare day when I meet someone who comes back from true death. Forgive me for wanting to peer behind the curtain.”

“I would never say it- never let her hear that, even if she killed me. And if it was to be my downfall, so be it. If it would be the weakness that would break me, I would embrace it with all my heart. If this was- For though each of my strikes lands a powerful blow, When I kill, I do it slow... That's what these three months had been- a slow, horrible death. What I felt for Tamlin was the cause of this. There was no cure- not pain, or absence, or happiness. But scorned, I become a difficult beast to defeat. She could torture me all she liked, but it would never destroy what I felt for him. It would never make Tamlin want her- never ease the sting of his rejection. The world became dark at the borders of my vision, taking the edge off the pain. But I bless all those who are brave enough to dare. For so long, I had run from it. But opening myself to him, to my sisters- that had been a test of bravery as harrowing as any of my trials. 'Say it, you vile beast!' Amarantha hissed. She might have lied her way out of our bargain, but she'd sworn differently with the riddle- instantaneous freedom, regardless of her will. Blood filled my mouth, warm as it dribbled out between my lips. I gazed at Tamlin's masked face one last time. 'Love,' I breathed, the word crumbling into a blackness with no end. A pause in Amarantha's magic. 'The answer to the riddle....' I got out, choking on my own blood, 'is... love.' Tamlin's eyes went wide before something forever cracked in my spine.”

“There was a choice- in Death,' I said. Those eyes guttered with cobalt fire. Rhys's hand contracted on my back, but remained. Warm, steady. And I wondered if the touch was more to reassure him that I was there, still breathing. 'I knew,' I went on, 'that I could drift away into the dark. And I chose to fight- to hold on for a bit longer. Yet I knew if I wanted, I could have faded. And maybe it would be a new world, a realm of rest and peace. But I wasn't ready for it- not to go there alone. I knew there was something else waiting beyond that dark. Something good.”

“She took my wings,' he whispered. Tamlin's green eyes flickered and I knew right then, that the faerie was going to die. Death wasn't just hovering in this hall; it was counting down the faerie's remaining heartbeats. I took one of the faerie's hands in mine. The skin there was almost leathery, and, perhaps more of a reflex than anything, his long fingers wrapped around mine, covering them completely. 'She took my wings,' he said again, his shaking subsiding a bit. I brushed the long, damp hair from the faerie's half-turned face, revealing a pointed nose and a mouth full of sharp teeth. His dark eyes shifted to mine, beseeching, pleading. 'It will be all right,' I said, and hoped he couldn't smell the lies the way the Suriel was able to. I stroked his limp hair, its texture like liquid night- another I would never be able to paint but would try to, perhaps forever. 'It will be all right.' The faerie closed his eyes, and I tightened my grip on his hand. Something wet touched my feet, and I didn't need to look down to see that his blood had pooled around me. 'My wings,' the faerie whispered. 'You'll get them back.' The faerie struggled to open his eyes. 'You swear?' 'Yes,' I breathed. The faerie managed a slight smile and closed his eyes again. My mouth trembled. I wished for something else to say, something more to offer him than my empty promises. The first false vow I'd ever sworn. But Tamlin began speaking, and I glanced up to see him take the faerie's other hand. 'Cauldron save you,' he said, reciting the words of a prayer that was probably older than the mortal realm. 'Mother hold you. Pass through the gates, and smell that immortal land of milk and honey. Fear no evil. Feel no pain.' Tamlin's voice wavered, but he finished. 'Go, and enter eternity.' The faerie heaved one final sigh, and his hand went limp in mine. I didn't let go, though, and kept stroking his hair, even when Tamlin released him and took a few steps from the table. I could feel Tamlin's eyes on me, but I wouldn't let go. I didn't know how long it took for a soul to fade from the body. I stood in the puddle of blood until it grew cold, holding the faerie's spindly hand and stroking his hair, wondering if he knew I'd lied when I'd sworn he would get his wings back, wondering if, wherever he had now gone, he had gotten them back. A clock chimed somewhere in the house, and Tamlin gripped my shoulder. I hadn't realised how cold I'd become until the heat of his hand warmed me through my nightgown. 'He's gone. Let him go.' I studied the faerie's face- so unearthly, so inhuman. Who could be so cruel to hurt him like that? 'Feyre,' Tamlin said, squeezing my shoulder. I brushed the faerie's hair behind his long, pointed ear, wishing I'd known his name, and let go.”

“Then the memories began- a compilation of the worst moments of my life, a storybook of despair and darkness. The final page came, and I wept, not entirely feeling the agony of my body as I saw the young rabbit, bleeding out in the forest clearing, my knife through her throat. My first kill- the first life I'd taken. I'd been starving, desperate. Yet afterward, once my family had devoured it, I had crept back into the woods and wept for hours, knowing a line had been crossed, my soul stained. 'Say that you don't love him!' Amarantha shrieked, and the blood on my hands became the blood of that rabbit- became the blood of what I had lost. But I wouldn't say it. Because loving Tamlin was the only thing I had left, the only thing I couldn't sacrifice.”

“She would never kill what she desired most- not when she wanted Tamlin as much as I did. But if I killed him... she either knew I couldn't do it, or she was playing a very, very dangerous game. Conversation after conversation echoed in my memory, until I heard Lucien's words, and everything froze. And that was when I knew. I couldn't breathe, not as I replayed the memory, not as I recalled the conversation I'd overheard one day. Lucien and Tamlin in the dining room, the door wide open for all to hear- for me to hear. 'For someone with a heart of stone, yours is certainly soft these days.' I looked at Tamlin, my eyes flicking to his chest as another memory flashed. The Attor in the garden, laughing. 'Though you have a heart of stone, Tamlin,' the Attor said, 'you certainly keep a host of fear inside it.' Amarantha would never risk me killing him- because she knew I couldn't kill him. Not if his heart couldn't be pierced by a blade. Not if his heart had been turned to stone. I scanned his face, searching for any glimmer of truth. There was only that bold rebellion within his gaze. Perhaps I was wrong- perhaps it was just a faerie turn of phrase. But all those times I'd held Tamlin... I'd never felt his heartbeat. I'd been blind to everything until it came back to smack me in the face, but not this time. That was how she controlled him and his magic. How she controlled all the High Lords, dominating and leashing them just as she kept Jurian's soul tethered to that eye and bone. Trust no one, Alis had told me. But I trusted Tamlin- and more than that, I trusted myself. I trusted that I had heard correctly- I trusted that Tamlin had been smarter than Amarantha, I trusted that all I had sacrificed was not in vain. The entire room was silent, but my attention was upon only Tamlin. The revelation must have been clear on my face, for his breathing became a bit quicker, and he lifted his chin. I took a step toward him, then another. I was right. I had to be. I sucked in a breath as I grabbed the dagger off the outstretched pillow. I could be wrong- I could be painfully, tragically wrong. But there was a faint smile on Tamlin's lips as I stood over him, ash dagger in hand. There was such a thing as Fate- because Fate had made sure I was there to eavesdrop when they'd spoken in private, because Fate had whispered to Tamlin that the cold, contrary girl he'd dragged to his home would be the one to break his spell, because Fate had kept me alive just to get to this point, just to see if I had been listening. And there he was- my High Lord, my beloved, kneeling before me. 'I love you,' I said, and stabbed him.”

“I was there that day, you know,' Alis said, folding her spindly arms across her chest. 'I saw the Morrigan arrive. Saw her reach into that cocoon of power and pick you up like a child. I begged her to take you out.' My swallow wasn't feigned. 'I never told him that. Never told any of them. I let them think you'd been abducted. But you clung to her, and she was willing to slaughter all of us for what had happened.' 'I don't know why you'd assume that.' I tugged the edges of my silk robe tighter around me. 'Servants talk. And Under the Mountain, I never heard of or saw Rhysand laying a hand on a servant. Guards. Amarantha's cronies, the people he was ordered to kill, yes. But never the meek. Never those unable to defend themselves.' 'He's a monster.' 'They say you came back different. Came back wrong.' A crow's laugh. 'I never bother to tell them I think you came back right. Came back right at last.”

“Sometimes I think Rhysand... I think he might have been her whore to spare us all from her full attention.' I would betray nothing of what I knew. But I suspected her could see it in my eyes- the sorrow at the thought. 'I know I'm supposed to look at you,' Tarquin said, 'and see that he's made you into a pet, into a monster. But I see the kindness in you. And I think that reflects more on him that anything. I think it shows that you and he might have many secrets-”

“Her fingers curled into a fist and she shouldered the door open. Its rusted hinges objected, creaking, and a dusty, half-rotten scent swarmed her nose. Her cheeks heated. For Cassin to be here, to see this- 'Just a brute, remember,' he stepped to her side. 'I've lived in far worse. At least you had walls and a roof.' Nesta hadn't realised how much she needed to hear those words, and her shoulders loosened as she stepped into the cottage proper. In the chill dimness, broken only by rays of sunlight, she frowned at the ceiling. 'This house used to have a roof.”

“Her fingers curled into a fist and she shouldered the door open. Its rusted hinges objected, creaking, and a dusty, half-rotten scent swarmed her nose. Her cheeks heated. For Cassian to be here, to see this- 'Just a brute, remember,' he stepped to her side. 'I've lived in far worse. At least you had walls and a roof.' Nesta hadn't realised how much she needed to hear those words, and her shoulders loosened as she stepped into the cottage proper. In the chill dimness, broken only by rays of sunlight, she frowned at the ceiling. 'This house used to have a roof.”

“My family won't last a month without me.' Lucien chuckled, and I gritted my teeth. 'Do you know what it's like to be hungry?' I demanded, anger rising to devour any common sense. 'Do you know what it's like to not know when your next meal will be?' Tamlin's jaw tightened. 'Your family is alive and well-cared for. You think so low of faeries that you believe I'd take their only source of income and nourishment and not replace it?”

“You never asked about your present.' 'I assumed I wasn't getting one from you.' He pushed off the door frame and shut the door behind him. He took up all the air in the room just by standing there. 'Why?' She shrugged. 'I just did.' He pulled a small box from his jacket and set it on the bed between them. 'Surprise.' Cassian swallowed as she approached, the only sign that this meant something to him. Nesta's hands turned sweaty as she picked the box up, examining it. She didn't open it yet, though. 'I am sorry for how I behaved last Solstice. For how awful I was.' He'd gotten her a present then, too. And she hadn't cared, had been so wretched she'd wanted to hurt him for it. For caring. 'I know,' he said thickly. 'I forgave you a long time ago.' She still couldn't look at him, even as he said, 'Open it.' Her hands shook a little as she did, finding a silver ball nestled in the black velvet box. It was the size of a chicken egg, round save for one area that had been flattened so it might be set upon a surface and not roll. 'What is it?' 'Touch the top. Just a tap.' Throwing a puzzled glance at him, she did so. Music exploded into the room. Nesta leaped back, a hand at her chest as he laughed. But- music was playing from the silver orb. And not just any music, but the waltzes from the ball the other night, pure and free of any crowd chattering, as if she were sitting in a theatre to hear them. 'This isn't the Veritas orb,' she managed to say as the waltz poured out of the ball, so clear and perfect her blood sang again. 'No, it's a Symphonia, a rare device from Helion's court. It can trap music within itself, and play it back for you. It was originally invented to help compose music, but it never caught on, for some reason.' 'How did you get the crowd noise out when you trapped the sound the other night?' she marvelled. His cheeks stained with colour. 'I went back the next day. Asked the musicians at the Hewn City to play it all again for me, plus some of their favourites.' He nodded to the ball. 'And then I went to some of your favourite taverns and found those musicians and had them play...' He trailed off at her bowed head. The tears she couldn't stop. She didn't try to fight them as the music poured into the room. He had done all of this for her. Had found a way for her to have music- always. 'Nesta,' he breathed.”

“He said down the bond, I would have waited five hundred more years for you. A thousand years. And if this was all the time we were allowed to have... The wait was worth it. He wiped away the tears sliding down my face. 'I believe that everything happened, exactly the way it had to... so I could find you.' He kissed another tear away.”

“I have no regrets in my life, but this. That we did not have time. That I did not have time with you, Nesta. I will find you again in the next world- the next life. And we will have that time, I promise. She relived those moments more often than she cared to admit. The press of his fingers as he'd cupped her face, the way his mouth had felt and tasted, tinged with blood but still tender. She couldn't bear it.”

“Nesta surged to her feet, staggering across the clearing, blood at her mouth from where he'd hit her, and threw herself to her knees before Cassian. 'Get up,' she sobbed, hauling at his shoulder. 'Get up.' He tried- and failed. 'You're too heavy,' she pleaded, but still tried to raise him, fingers scrabbling in his black, bloodied armour. 'I can't- he's coming-' 'Go,' Cassian groaned. Her powers had stopped hurling the king across the forest. He now stalked toward them, brushing off splinters and leaves from his jacket- taking his time. Knowing she would not leave. Savouring the awaiting slaughter. Nesta gritted her teeth, trying to haul Cassian up once more. A broken sound of pain ripped from him. 'Go!' he barked at her. 'I can't,' she breathed, voice breaking. 'I can't.' The same words Rhys had given him. Cassian grunted in pain, but lifted his bloodied hands- to cup her face. 'I have no regrets in my life, but this.' HIs voice shook with every word. 'That we did not have time. That I did not have time with you, Nesta.' She didn't stop him as he leaned up and kissed her- lightly. As much as he could manage. Cassian said softly, brushing away the tear that streaked down her face. 'I will find you again in the next world- the next life. And we will have that time. I promise.' The King of Hybern stepped into that clearing, dark power wafting from his fingertips. And even the Cauldron seemed to pause in surprise- surprise or some... feeling as Nesta looked at the king with death twining around his hands, then down at Cassian. And covered Cassian's body with her own. Cassian went still- then his hand slid over her back. Together. They'd go together.”

“The old woman read, 'I write to you not as a High Lord, but as a male in love with a woman who was once human. I write to you to beg you to act quickly. To save her people- to help save my own. I write to you so one day we might know true peace. So I might one day be able to live in a world where the woman I love may visit her family without fear of hatred and reprisal. A better world.' She set down the letter. Rhys had written that letter weeks ago... before we'd mated. Not a demand for the queens to meet- but a love letter. I reached across the space between us and took his hand, squeezing gently. Rhys's fingers tightened around my own.”

“After a while, Rhys lifted his chest enough to take my right hand. To examine the tattoos inked there. He kissed one of the whorls of near-black blue ink. His throat bobbed. 'I missed you. Every second, every breath. Not just this,' he said, shifting his hips for emphasis and dragging a groan from deep in my throat, 'but... talking to you. Laughing with you. I missed having you in my bed, but missed having you as my friend even more.”