Queen of Shadows (Throne of Glass, #4)

by Sarah J. Maas

He could not remember his name. That was the first thing he’d forgotten when the darkness enveloped him weeks or months or eons ago. Then he’d forgotten the names of the others who had meant so much to him.

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A prince would have saved her. Yet he had not saved her, and he knew there was no one coming to save him.

I love you—that’s what he’d said to her the day she left. She hadn’t given him an answer other than I’m sorry.

alexa play I Love You, I'm Sorry by Gracie Abrams

“It’s Aelin now,” she snapped as loudly as she dared. “Celaena Sardothien doesn’t exist anymore.”

“Dorian is my king.”

same.

Wing Leader

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And I enjoyed it, because I thought it was better to be someone’s pawn than nothing at all.”

“When you shatter the chains of this world and forge the next, remember that art is as vital as food to a kingdom. Without it, a kingdom is nothing, and will be forgotten by time. I have amassed enough money in my miserable life to not need any more—so you will understand me clearly when I say that wherever you set your throne, no matter how long it takes, I will come to you, and I will bring music and dancing.”

She was the heir of fire. She was fire, and light, and ash, and embers. She was Aelin Fireheart, and she bowed for no one and nothing, save the crown that was hers by blood and survival and triumph.

Behind them, across the hall, the dancers shattered their roses on the floor, and Aedion grinned at his queen as the entire world went to hell.

She was a whirling cloud of death, a queen of shadows, and these men were already carrion.

Rowan was the most powerful full-blooded Fae male alive. And his scent was all over her. Yet she had no gods-damned idea.

Some of the other rebels want to abandon Rifthold. Establish ourselves in other cities in anticipation of the Valg spreading.” “And you?” “I don’t leave without Dorian.”

She loosed a shuddering breath, and a small, whimpering noise came out of her—a sob. And then she was sprinting down the alley, flying as though the winds themselves pushed at her heels. She flung herself on the male, crashing into him hard enough that anyone else might have gone rocking back into the stone wall. But the male grabbed her to him, his massive arms wrapping around her tightly and lifting her up. Nesryn made to approach, but Aedion stopped her with a hand on her arm. Aelin was laughing as she cried, and the male was just holding her, his hooded head buried in her neck. As if he were breathing her in. “Who is that?” Nesryn asked. Aedion smiled. “Rowan.”

She mutely handed him her favorite lavender-scented soap, which he sniffed at, sighed in resignation, and then began using.

hating the pain and sorrow and guilt on every line of her body. He’d sell his soul to the dark god to never have her look like that again.

“And,” Rowan added, “if you ever speak to her again the way you did last night, I’ll rip out your tongue and shove it down your throat. Understand?”

His gloved fingers brushed her own, then dropped back to his side. She clenched her hand into a fist again.

onyx eyes

xaden riorson?

“There were six of them, and one of those stone demons, you bitch, and you knew it.” So he had found a way to kill one of the Wyrdhounds. Interesting—and good. “You know, I’m really rather tired of being called that. You’d think five centuries would give you enough time to come up with something more creative.”

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It was worth it.” “What is?” Her throat tightened. “A world where people like me don’t have to hide.”

Beloved—not just by her, but by many. Sam. Her Sam.

“I miss you,” she said. “Every day, I miss you. And I wonder what you would have made of all this. Made of me. I think—I think you would have been a wonderful king. I think they would have liked you more than me, actually.” Her throat tightened. “I never told you—how I felt. But I loved you, and I think a part of me might always love you. Maybe you were my mate, and I never knew it. Maybe I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering about that. Maybe I’ll see you again in the Afterworld, and then I’ll know for sure. But until then … until then I’ll miss you, and I’ll wish you were here.”

Elide’s bowels had turned to water by the time she reached the guards.

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“Thank you for the oil,” he added. “My skin was a little dry.”

one of the best lines in the series.

“You can’t just toss us out. What will we do? Where will we go?” “I hear hell is particularly nice at this time of year.”

“You are sacred vessels,” the duke said. “It is an honor to be chosen.” “I find that a very male thing to assume.”

ate

It had been nice. To have one afternoon with no fighting, with no one hating him. To feel like he was part of their unit.

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“We’ll face this together,” he breathed, his eyes shining bright and canines gleaming. “As we have in the past. To whatever end.”

But if it was death separating us … I would find you. I don’t care how many rules it would break. Even if I had to get all three keys myself and open a gate, I would find you again. Always.”

It was foolish to even start down this road, when every other man she’d let in had left some wound, in one way or another, accidentally or not. There was nothing soft or tender on his face. Only a predator’s glittering gaze. “When we get back,” he said, “remind me to prove you wrong about every thought that just went through your head.”

I am Aelin Ashryver Galathynius—

The man closest to the king didn’t bother glancing around. His sapphire eyes went right to Manon, and stayed there.

There was no one in earshot as Manon stopped a few feet away from the Crown Prince. “Hello, princeling,” she purred.

“Hello, princeling,” she said, her voice bedroom-soft and full of glorious death. “Hello, witchling,” he said. And the words were his own.

“I’ve been with plenty of men. You’re all the same. Taste the same.” She looked him over as if he were her next meal. “I dare you,” he managed to say. Her eyes narrowed, the gold like living embers. He’d never seen anyone so beautiful. This witch had been crafted from the darkness between the stars.

“But would you bleed red, or black?” “I’ll bleed whatever color you tell me to.”

the best line in the series.

His name. He didn’t know what that was.

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“I want you to do lots of things to me,” the prince said, raking his eyes along the witch’s body.

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But those golden eyes lingered. Come find me again, Prince. A promise—a promise of death, of release. Come find me again. The words soon faded, swallowed up by screaming and blood and the demon’s cold fingers running over his mind. But the eyes lingered—and that name. Manon. Manon.

“I have no interest in prisoners or battling today,” Manon said. The Queen of Terrasen gave her a grin. “Good.” Manon turned away, barking at her Thirteen to get to their mounts. “I suppose,” the queen went on, “that makes you smarter than Baba Yellowlegs.”

Her heart—it had been meant for her heart. And he had taken that arrow for her.

“Swords are boring,” the queen said, and palmed two fighting knives. Manon sheathed Wind-Cleaver along her own back. She flicked her wrists, the iron nails shooting out. She cracked her jaw, and her fangs descended. “Indeed.”

But perhaps the monsters needed to look out for each other every now and then.

She stepped closer to the prince’s horse. “Dorian,” she said. A command and a challenge. Sapphire eyes snapped to hers. No trace of otherworldly darkness. Just a man trapped inside.

She watched the prince until he was a speck of black hair.

“He never married. And even when he was an old man, I’d sometimes see him sitting on that front porch. As if he were waiting for someone.”

That wildness, that untamed fierceness … They weren’t born of a free heart, but of one that had known despair so complete that living brightly, living violently, was the only way to outrun it.

“It meant something to me. What you and I had. More than that, your friendship meant something to me. I never told you the truth about who I was because I couldn’t face that truth. I’m sorry if what I said to you on the docks that day—that I’d pick you—made you think I’d come back, and it would all be fixed. Things changed. I changed.” He’d waited for this conversation for weeks now, months now—and he’d expected himself to yell, or pace, or just shut her out entirely. But there was nothing but calm in his veins, a steady, peaceful calm. “You deserve to be happy,” he said. And meant it. She deserved the joy he so often glimpsed on her face when Rowan was near—deserved the wicked laughter she shared with Aedion, the comfort and teasing with Lysandra. She deserved happiness, perhaps more than anyone.

“What if we go on,” he said, “only to more pain and despair? What if we go on, only to find a horrible end waiting for us?” Aelin looked northward, as if she could see all the way to Terrasen. “Then it is not the end.”

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