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September 19 - September 24, 2025
“I would sooner die tomorrow than live for a thousand years with a coward’s shame.”
But Manon asked, “What of the prince?” King. King Dorian.
Leave the prince to me.” She didn’t dare look at Asterin as she said it. “I have no doubt the Yellowlegs will try to claim his head. Stop any one of them who dares take it.”
this is better than smut
She had crawled through darkness and blood and despair—she had survived. And even if Lord Darrow could offer men and funding for a war … she had both, too. More would be better, but—she was not empty-handed. She had done that for herself. For them all.
“I will tell my people,” Aelin said quietly but not weakly, “the entire truth. I will show them the scars on my back from Endovier, the scars on my body from my years as Celaena Sardothien, and I will tell them that the new King of Adarlan is not a monster. I will tell them that we have one enemy: the bastard down in Morath. And Dorian Havilliard is the only chance for survival—and future peace between our two kingdoms.”
“You are my Fireheart.”
Aelin said, “I promise you that no matter how far I go, no matter the cost, when you call for my aid, I will come. I promise you on my blood, on my family’s name, that I will not turn my back on Terrasen as you have turned your back on me. I promise you, Darrow, that when the day comes and you crawl for my help, I will put my kingdom before my pride and not kill you for this. I think the true punishment will be seeing me on the throne for the rest of your miserable life.”
The witch didn’t make it to the ground. One heartbeat she was perched in her saddle, swinging a leg over. The next, her head was gone, her blood spraying her wyvern as it roared and turned— And was slammed off the tower by another, smaller wyvern. Scarred and vicious, with glimmering wings.
SHE SAVED HIM IM SCREAMING
He knew her face before he remembered her name. Knew the white hair, like moonlight on water, that spilled over her dark, scalelike armor; knew the burnt-gold eyes. Knew that impossibly beautiful face, full of cold bloodlust and wicked cunning. “Get up,” Manon Blackbeak snarled.
im literally screaming and kicking my feet
She’d forgotten how much taller he was. Face-to-face, Dorian panted as he stared down at her and breathed, “Hello, witchling.” Some ancient, predatory part of her awoke at the half smile. It sat up, cocking its ears toward him. Not a whiff of fear. Interesting. Manon purred back, “Hello, princeling.”
Manon crashed to her knees. The king was instantly at her side, studying her for a heartbeat before he roared down the stairs, “NO!” That was all it took. Air flooded her mouth, her lungs, and Manon gasped, back arching as she drank it in. Her kind had no magical shields against attacks like that. Only when most desperate, most enraged, could a witch summon the core of magic in her—with devastating consequences. Even the most bloodthirsty and soulless of them only whispered of that act: the Yielding. Dorian’s face swam in her watery vision. Manon still gasped for that fresh, lifesaving air as
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And that silver hair— Not like Manon’s hair, which was the pure white of moonlight on snow. He wondered what had become of the Wing Leader—who had killed for him, spared him. Not spared him. Rescued him.
“You know,” he said, “sometimes I wish Chaol were here—to help me. And then sometimes I’m glad he’s not, so he wouldn’t be at risk again. I’m glad he’s in Antica with Nesryn.”
I will not be afraid; I will not be afraid—
A hundred years she’d had with Asterin. She’d always thought they’d have a hundred more.
Manon said softly to Sorrel, “Turn her around. My Second shall see the dawn one last time.”
The sunlight gilded the balcony as Asterin whispered, so softly that only Manon could hear, “Bring my body back to the cabin.” Something in Manon’s chest broke—broke so violently that she wondered if it was possible for no one to have heard it.
And Manon understood in that moment that there were forces greater than obedience, and discipline, and brutality. Understood that she had not been born soulless; she had not been born without a heart.
A hundred years—and yet Manon wished she’d had more time.
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.
im sobbing so hard i cant even celebrate. dont ever scare me like that again
She breathed to Abraxos, “Let’s make it a final stand worthy of song.” He bellowed in answer.
So you are my husband,” she hissed, “until I say otherwise.”
period i would claim him too
“I want to see life—see the world,” Marion said, her voice softening. “I want to see everything.”
He wished Chaol were with him.
Dorian added, “My Hand is currently in the southern continent—in Antica itself. He will persuade them to send a fleet.” Chaol would do nothing less for him, for Adarlan.
Rowan said smoothly, “How no one has ever cut out your tongue just to shut you up has always been a mystery to me as well.” An edged chuckle. “I’ve been told it’s my best feature. At least the women think so.” A low laugh escaped Dorian—the first sound like it Rowan had witnessed from the king.
Aedion frowned. “You know, you ladies can let us males do things every now and then.” Aelin lifted a brow. “Where would the fun be in that?”
Even in the watery light, Dorian could perfectly see the woman sitting at Rolfe’s desk, her black clothes dirty, weapons gleaming, and her feet propped on the dark wooden surface. 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.”
queen
And then Aelin said to Rowan with a secret smile, “You, I don’t know. But I’d like to.” Rowan’s lips tugged upward. “I’m not on the market, unfortunately.”
Aelin chucked the emeralds into the metal dish as if they were bits of copper, their plunking the only sound. “She must be clever”—plunk—“and fascinating”—plunk—“and very, very talented.” Plunk, plunk, plunk went the emeralds. She examined the four gems remaining in her hand. “She must be the most wonderful person who ever existed.” Another cough from behind him—from Gavriel this time. But Aelin only had eyes for Rowan as the warrior said to her, “She is indeed that. And more.”
Dorian said smoothly, “You will find, Rolfe, that one does not deal with Celaena Sardothien. One survives her.”
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.”
“The world,” Aelin said, “will be saved and remade by the dreamers, Rolfe.”
“That man has endured enough, Aedion. A little kindness wouldn’t kill you.” “He stabbed Aelin. If you knew him as I have, you wouldn’t be so willing to fawn over—”
sybau aedion
Aedion said hoarsely, “I’ll try.” “Try harder. Try better.”
clock it
His teeth flashed. “Do not toy with me.” “Or what?”
im eating this up
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been held. Or comforted. Or smiled at with any genuine love for who she was.
Love had broken a perfect killing tool. Lorcan wondered if it would take him centuries more to stop being so pissed about it.
Lorcan said quietly, “Would you like me to kill him for you?” Her limpid, dark eyes rose to his face. And for a moment, he could see the woman she’d become—was already becoming. Someone who, regardless of where she’d been born, any queen would prize at her side. “Would there be a cost?” Lorcan hid his smile. Smart, cunning little witch. “No,” he said, and meant it.
“Even if Maeve had kept me enslaved, I would have fought her. Every day, every hour, every breath.” He kissed her softly and said onto her lips, “I would have fought for the rest of my life to find a way to return to you again. I knew it the moment you emerged from the Valg’s darkness and smiled at me through your flames.” She swallowed the tightness in her throat and raised a brow. “You were willing to do that before all this? So few benefits back then.” Amusement and something deeper danced in his eyes. “What I felt for you in Doranelle and what I feel for you now are the same. I just didn’t
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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.
Dorian stirred, a cool breeze fluttering in as if his magic awoke as well, squinted at them both, then at the clock atop the mantel. He hauled the pillow over his eyes and went back to sleep. “Very kingly,” Aedion told him, heading for the door. Dorian grumbled something through the pillow that Aedion chose not to hear.
he probably said for you to sybau. i hope.
And as the Pirate Lord and Queen of Terrasen shook hands and she grinned at Rolfe, Dorian realized he … perhaps he could do with a bit more wickedness and insanity, too. This war would not be won on smiles and manners.
They had not come ten years ago. She wanted them to know she had not forgotten it.
“One said he wanted to marry you.” A low snarl. He yielded a foot but held eye contact with her as he grinned. “But you know what I told them? I said that they didn’t stand a chance in hell.” Aedion lowered his voice, holding her pained, exhausted stare. “Because I am going to marry you,” he promised her. “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.” Those eyes narrowed—in what he could only call female outrage and exasperation. He shrugged. “Princess Lysandra Ashryver sounds
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wait that was so cute
“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.”
“And you love me,” she said. Not a question. “To whatever end,” he breathed.
“No.” The word ripped from Dorian’s lips before he could think.
“Hello, witchling,” he said. Her full, sensuous mouth tightened slightly, either in a repressed grimace or smile, he couldn’t tell. But she sat up, her moon-white hair sliding forward—her chains clanking. “Hello, princeling,” she said. Gods, her voice was like sandpaper.
Dorian didn’t feel like mentioning that he’d been the one who’d jumped into the water. He’d just … acted, as Manon had acted when she’d saved him in his tower. He owed her nothing less.
I KNEW IT I KNEW IT
