Empire of Storms (Throne of Glass, #5)

by Sarah J. Maas

“I was told to come to this temple. I found it occupied. So I unoccupied it. You’re welcome.”

Then Manon Blackbeak whirled and brought Wind-Cleaver down upon her grandmother.

“You will find, Rolfe, that one does not deal with Celaena Sardothien. One survives her.”

They could burn the entire world to ashes with it. He was hers and she was his, and they had found each other across centuries of bloodshed and loss, across oceans and kingdoms and war.

There is no limit to what I can give to you, no time I need. Even when this world is a forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will love you.”

He usually came in after she’d fallen asleep, and left before she awoke. To do what, she had no idea—perhaps exercise, since his body was … like that.

It’d be a shame to lose the most beautiful woman in the world so soon into her immortal, wicked life.”

“I love you,” Rowan breathed onto her skin, and flicked his tongue over the spot where his canines had scratched. “I’d walk into the burning heart of hell itself to find you.”

The key. Erawan knew she had the Wyrdkey.

Eyllwe was burning.

“I will always find you,” he swore to her. Her throat bobbed. Lorcan whispered, “I promise.”

“From now until the Darkness claims us.”

“Remember who you are. Every step of the way down, and every step of the way back. Remember who you are. And that you’re mine.”

The Queen of Flame and Shadow, the Heir of Fire, Aelin of the Wildfire, Fireheart … She burned through each title, even as she became them, became what those foreign ambassadors had hissed when they reported on a child-queen’s growing, unstable power in Terrasen. A promise that had been whispered into the blackness.

serve it, to serve her … A court that wouldn’t just change the world. It would start the world over. A court that could conquer this world—and any other it wished.

Dreams and nightmares given form; the dark face of the moon.