Heir of Fire (Throne of Glass, #3)

by Sarah J. Maas

You didn’t need a weapon at all when you were born one.

Legend had it that all witches had been gifted by the Three-Faced Goddess with iron teeth and nails to keep them anchored to this world when magic threatened to pull them away.

“What the fool learned that night was this: the creature was almost as old as the mountain itself. It claimed to have been born in another world, but had slipped into this one when the gods were looking elsewhere.

“You are one of the Thirteen,” she said to him. “From now until the Darkness cleaves us apart. You are mine, and I am yours. Let’s show them why.”

So I am staying. Because you are needed, and because I will follow you to whatever end.”

“I claim you, Rowan Whitethorn. I don’t care what you say and how much you protest. I claim you as my friend.”

It was a message to the world. Aelin was a warrior, able to fight with blade or magic. And she was done with hiding.

He looked at his friend, perhaps for the last time, and said what he had always known, from the moment they’d met, when he’d understood that the prince was his brother in soul. “I love you.”

She lifted her face to the stars. She was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, heir of two mighty bloodlines, protector of a once-glorious people, and Queen of Terrasen. She was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius—and she would not be afraid.