Empire of Storms (Throne of Glass, #5)

by Sarah J. Maas

“Your Second, Asterin Blackbeak, shall pay the blood debt between our clans. She dies at sunrise tomorrow.”

You’re kidding me… man she has it out for asterin so bad

She’d burned him alive. From the inside out.

Badass

Erawan had been waiting for this meeting far longer than a few hours. And the Valg king knew both sides of her history. For it was the Chief Overseer of Endovier who now grinned at them.

CRUEL CRUEL MAN

“At least you know how to make a good entrance, Erawan.”

Did not see them meeting already

A heavy thud echoed through the silent temple as the lump of iron and Wyrdstone fell.

Wait... But like pick it up??? Am I dumb😂

Manon met Sorrel’s eyes, then Asterin’s. And Manon gave the Thirteen her final order. “Run.” Then Manon Blackbeak whirled and brought Wind-Cleaver down upon her grandmother.

YESSSS GET THAT BITCH

“As your mother labored to push you out, she confessed who your father was. She said you … you would be the one who broke the curse, who saved us. She said your father was a rare-born Crochan Prince. And she said that your mixed blood would be the key.”

Did not see this change-a-roo

“Her name was Rhiannon, after the last Crochan Queen. And she was your half sister. She confessed it to me upon our tables. She thought it’d save her life. And when she saw what you had become, she chose to let the knowledge die with her.”

Anyone else sing Rhiannon? No? Just me? Kk

“You are a Crochan. The last of their royal bloodline with the death of your sister at your own hand. You are a Crochan Queen.”

ANOTHER QUEEN!

Her steps evened out, and she had to bite back her urge to gawk at the feeling of walking straight and sure.

I wonder if a healer could fix her leg all these years later

This far away … they had to obey Maeve’s orders—but could use any loopholes in the language to their own advantage.

I've been wondering about the semantics

“The Dark King calls me his Bloodhound.”

All these atrocious creatures

Aelin Galathynius, her hands laced behind her head, grinned at them all and said, “I like this office far better than your other one, Rolfe.”

An entrance indeed 👏🏽

Aelin let out a low whistle. “Allow me to introduce to you, Captain Rolfe, the incomparable, the beautiful, and the absolutely and all-around flawless Queen of Terrasen.” Dorian’s brows creased. But footsteps sounded, and then— The males shifted as Aelin Galathynius indeed strode into the room, clad in a dark green tunic of equal wear and dirt, her golden hair unbound, her turquoise-and-gold eyes laughing as she strode past a slack-jawed Rolfe and perched on the arm of Aelin’s chair.

OKAY WAIT THIS IS HOW YOU MAKE AN ENTRANCE! Lysandra and her have too much fun

The two of them … Oh, those crafty, scheming devils. A queen of legends indeed.

“Every key has a lock. Tell the Queen Who Was Promised to retrieve it soon, for all the allies in the world shall make no difference if she does not wield the Lock,

it. Tell her flame and iron, together bound, merge into silver to learn what must be found. A mere step is all it shall take.” Then she looked away again.

Always so cryptic and poetic

“Ah,” he said, kneeling beside her as she still gazed out over the dark sea, “but who else would be able to get under Erawan’s skin? Never underestimate the power of that insufferable swagger.”

“I love you. 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.”

they’re so mushy in this book, it’s nice to see, but also nice that other couples balance it out so it’s not too over the top

Dorian had the distinct feeling Aelin was deliberately examining a spot on her shirt.

This is such a specific observation…

But the threads lay in a lattice across his mind, in hues of red and green and gold and blue, glimmering and thrumming, whispering their secrets in languages not spoken in this world.

Like a gods-damned dog, he’d picked up her scent among the crowd and followed her back to this tent.

Fucking Lorcan 😂

Often, the dream was that a great cat, pale and speckled like old snow on granite, sat in the cabin with her, its long tail slashing back and forth when it noticed her glazed attention. Sometimes, it was a grinning white wolf. Or a calm-eyed golden mountain lion.

The fae immortals? Plus Lysandra?

Here’s hoping you discover more creative terms than “bitch” to call me when you find this. With all my love, A.A.G.

HAHAHAHA

“I don’t think you can handle the sort of things I need, witchling. And I am never begging for anything again in my life.”

Aedion hadn’t dared tell the shifter that he often counted the minutes until she returned, that his chest always felt unbearably tight until he spotted whatever winged or finned form she wore returning to them.

The flare of the witch’s nostrils as she scented the male, his smell barely detectable in the cramped cabin— “No, he’s not,” Manon said. The witch’s iron nails flashed out a heartbeat before Fenrys struck.

OH SHIT

“This is what we are meant to do—protect, serve, cherish.

“But it is what calls to a Fae male’s blood, what guides him. What we’re all looking for, even when we say we’re not.”

This statement makes me so sad for them

“She was a bright star in centuries of darkness. I would have followed that star to the ends of the earth, if she had let me. But she didn’t, and I respected her wishes to stay away. To never seek her out again. I went to another continent and didn’t let myself look back.”

Eyllwe. Eyllwe was burning.

Vernon didn’t have time to realize what she intended as she whipped the knife free from its sheath at his hip. As she flipped the knife in her fingers, her other hand wrapping around the hilt. As her shoulders curved inward, her chest caving, and she drove the blade home.

GET HIM

Lorcan knew true fear as Elide turned that knife on herself, the blade angled to plunge up and into her heart.

Oh shit Elide going suicidal, can’t blame her, but like she could’ve tried to kill him too

but Elide stood on her toes, kissed his stubble-rough cheek, and said, “I will always find you, too, Lorcan.”

What an interesting pair they make

No, she was not carrying his child.

and he’d asked if she was taking a tonic. She merely told him no. He’d gone still.

He’s been lowkey so worried 😂

Lorcan felt the push on his shoulder that had guided and shaped the course of his life—that invisible, insistent hand of shadow and death.

“I don’t think you even know what happiness is.” His face grew grave—thoughtful. “I do not mind … being around you.”

He's like the grinch growing a heart

“I’m glad, you know,” Fenrys said with unusual graveness, “that I got this time. That Maeve unintentionally gave me that. That I got to know what it was like—to be here, as a part of this.”

Omgggg this makes me want to cry for them

Aelin was no savior to rally behind, but a cataclysm to be weathered.

And that seemed like punishment enough, but … there had to be a price. Nameless is my price. That was what the witch had said.

There were no survivors. Not one.

Perhaps Aelin Galathynius was unlucky the cadre had been drawn to Maeve’s power long before she was born, had chained themselves to her instead. Perhaps they were the unlucky ones, for not holding out for something better.

Slowly, Lorcan closed in on his prey, too focused on the fire-breathing bitch to notice that Fenrys and Gavriel had vanished from their positions in the reeds.

Shit's about to go down

“It would seem our bargain with each other is about to end anyway. I’ll be sure to explain the terms, don’t worry. I’d hate for them to think you were slumming it with me.” “That’s not what I meant.” He snorted. “I don’t care.”

Someone is attached

“This ends now. You two don’t touch them. They’re under the protection of Aelin Galathynius. If you harm them, it will be considered an act of war.” Specific, ancient words, the only way a blood order could be detained. Not overridden—just delayed for a little while. To buy them all time.

This blood oath has so many loopholes

Scions—each of them touched by a different god, each of them subtly, quietly, guided here. It wasn’t a coincidence. It couldn’t be.

That full mouth slanted into a half grin as Ansel of Briarcliff, Queen of the Wastes, drawled, “Who gave you permission to use my name in pit fights, Aelin?”

DUDE fucking Ansel with the reappearance

Though she was particularly furious to see me claim the horse—made worse when I took her out of her dungeon to reveal that Terrasen’s flag now flies alongside my wolf at her own damn house.”

She had never contemplated what it would be like—to yield control. And not have it be weakness, but a freedom.