Queen of Shadows (Throne of Glass, #4)

by Sarah J. Maas

friends in the empire now like to use is ‘fire-breathing bitch-queen.’ ”

good night for hunting, if the unkind face of the Goddess now watched over them, even though the dark of the new moon—the Crone’s Shadow—was always preferred.

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

“You actually admit to liking me?”

“Did last summer not tell you enough?”

She’s sassy and I LIKE IT

“Who is that?” Nesryn asked. Aedion smiled. “Rowan.”

Where I felt my knees give out

On top of that, they were carranam.

“Stop doing that alpha-male nonsense. Once was enough.”

“You look like—” “A queen?” “The fire-breathing bitch-queen those bastards claim you are.”

So he needed to sort it out—needed to sort himself out, too, no matter what he wanted from her. Even if it was agony.

“I missed you,” he said quietly, his gaze darting between her mouth and eyes. “When I was in Wendlyn. I lied when I said I didn’t. From the moment you left, I missed you so much I went out of my mind. I was glad for the excuse to track Lorcan here, just to see you again. And tonight, when he had that knife at your throat …” The warmth of his callused finger bloomed through her as he traced a path over the cut on her neck. “I kept thinking about how you might never know that I missed you with only an ocean between us. 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.”

“But would you bleed red, or black?”

“I’ll bleed whatever color you tell me to.”

*screams*

“But wherever we go, we’ll go together.”

“Even when we’re apart tomorrow, I’ll be with you every step of the way. And every step after—wherever that may be.”

Okay bye

She said softly, “You make me want to live, Rowan. Not survive; not exist. Live.”

Then she smiled with every last shred of courage, of desperation, of hope for the glimmer of that glorious future. “Let’s go rattle the stars.”

“Next time we need to save the world, we do it together.”

“You make me want to live, too, Aelin Galathynius,” he said. “Not exist—but live.” He cupped her cheek, and took a steadying breath—as if he’d thought about every word these past three days, over and over again. “I spent centuries wandering the world, from empires to kingdoms to wastelands, never settling, never stopping—not for one moment. I was always looking toward the horizon, always wondering what waited across the next ocean, over the next mountain. But I think … I think that whole time, all those centuries, I was just looking for you.”

“Says who? We are the masters of our own fates—we decide how to go forward.”

“What do I do?”

“You light up the darkness.”

Dorian said, “So here we are.” “The end of the road,” Aelin said with a half smile. “No,” Chaol said, his own smile faint, tentative. “The beginning of the next.”

We’ll face it together. To whatever end.