Empire of Storms (Throne of Glass, #5)

by Sarah J. Maas

“I would sooner die tomorrow than live for a thousand years with a coward’s shame.”

“This war,” she said quietly, “is but the second movement in a game that has been played since those ancient days across the sea.”

Three days, she’d been near death with vomiting and fever after gulping down that stagnant pond water.

Lorcan remained hidden, watching her scan the hills, the stream, the canopy. She knew he was out there, somehow.

Leave the prince to me.”

Not a warrior of the sword, but of the mind.

“And that is why you are not fit to rule. Who shares the queen’s bed is everyone’s concern. Will you lie to our people about your past, deny that you served the deposed king—and served his son, too, in a different manner?”

“Win me back my kingdom, Evangeline.”

“To call in old debts and promises. To raise an army of assassins and thieves and exiles and commoners. To finish what was started long, long ago.” Silence was his answer.

Dorian panted as he stared down at her and breathed, “Hello, witchling.”

Manon purred back, “Hello, princeling.”

And in the process, she herself had become lost.

She fell to her knees and vomited.

Lorcan debated telling her what he knew: that her two quests were one and the same.

“Good thing I know how to make women purr.”

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

Then Manon Blackbeak whirled and brought Wind-Cleaver down

“Bigger tits won’t prove or hide anything.”

“My life as a warrior was chosen long before that battlefield.”

Love had broken a perfect killing tool. Lorcan wondered if it would take him centuries more to stop being so pissed about it.

“When you kill my uncle, ask him yourself.”

the Mycenians would only return when the sea dragons did.

“One day. I am going to marry you. I’ll be generous and let you pick when, even if it’s ten years from now. Or twenty. But one day, you are going to be my wife.”

“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.”

There was only one. And only one rider atop it. A rider who did not move, whose white hair was unbound—listing toward the side. As the rider now was.

oiled body.

if she were to ever feel desire, it’d be a result of trusting someone so much that those horrors faded away, a result of knowing they would fight tooth and claw to keep her free and never lock her up or hurt her or leave her.

is. I gave you exactly what you wanted to see: a lost young woman in need of help, perhaps a bit skilled at lying and deceit, but ultimately not worth more than a few seconds’ consideration. And you, in all your immortal arrogance, didn’t think twice.

“Hello, witchling,” he said.

“Hello, princeling,” she said.

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

“Find out if my Thirteen are alive, princeling. Do that, and I am yours to command.”

“Then I suppose you and I are both heirs without crowns.”

“Just tell Aelin Galathynius that Elide Lochan is alive—and looking for her.”

He’d seen a kingdom, perhaps three hundred years ago, that relied on barges to sail its goods from one end to another. Its name eluded him, lost to the catacombs of his memory. Lorcan wondered if it still existed, tucked away between two mountain ranges on the other side of the world.

“Your little queen,” Lorcan sneered, “is a murderer, and a thief, and a liar. So if you’re going to call me such things, then be prepared to fling them at her, too.”

“Turns out, I now have business with Aelin Galathynius, too. Congratulations, Lady. You just got yourself a guide to Eyllwe.”

“As far as anyone’s concerned, you’re still my wife.”

And perhaps she was reckless and wild and still a bit stupid from blood loss, but she said, “If you plan to sneak in here in the darkest hours of the night, you should at least have the decency to ensure I get something out of it.”

Dorian lowered his mouth to hers.

The witch was lucid but pissed off.

Though I wouldn’t let those iron teeth near my favorite part if I were him.”

Two queens—there were two queens among them, Dorian realized.

“I made a promise to protect you. I will not break it, Elide.” She made to pull away, but he gripped her a little harder, keeping her eyes on him. “I will always find you,” he swore to her. Her throat bobbed. Lorcan whispered, “I promise.”

“I will always find you, too, Lorcan.”

“I wanted to go to Perranth with you.”

She had offered him a home.

For over ten years, Aelin had been the sole bearer of those final words. Ten years, through death and despair and war, Aelin had carried them across kingdoms.

Rowan gave him a lazy smile but refrained from commenting on the delicate, dark-haired young woman who now held Lorcan’s own leash.

Kaltain Rompier had just turned the tide in this war.