Heir of Fire (Throne of Glass, #3)

by Sarah J. Maas

The owl rustled its wings, the wood groaning beneath its talons, and the darkness in Maeve’s eyes spread, reaching. There was a faint pulse in the air, a throbbing against her blood. A tapping, then a razor-sharp slicing against her mind—as if Maeve were trying to cleave open her skull and peer inside. Pushing, testing, tasting—

Ok, Rhys

she turned her violet, starry eyes to Celaena and gave her that spider’s smile.

Violet starry eyes, black hair, claws at the mind, OK, RHYS