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The next time he’d seen Rowan, the prince had been roaring, desperate to fling himself into lethal darkness to save the life of a princess with no throne. Lorcan had known—in that moment. Lorcan had known, as he’d pinned Rowan into the grass outside Mistward, the prince thrashing and screaming for Aelin Galathynius, that everything was about to change. Knew that the commander he’d valued was altered irrevocably. No longer would they glut themselves on wine and women; no longer would Rowan gaze toward a horizon without some glimmer of longing in his eyes.
Love had broken a perfect killing tool. Lorcan wondered if it would take him centuries more to stop being so pissed about it.
Manon smirked at Lorcan. “Your claim on her, male, is at the very bottom of the list.”
Lorcan wouldn’t like that 🤣🤣🤣
Lorcan had been willing to die for Elide. Had been willing to put aside his quest for Maeve in order for Elide to live. And had then acted territorial enough to make Rowan wonder if he seemed so ridiculous around Aelin all the time.
Hahahhaahhaha! You could NEVERR
Rowan gave him a lazy smile but refrained from commenting on the delicate, dark-haired young woman who now held Lorcan’s own leash.
Ahahahhahahahhahaa
“They’re not going to attack.” Lorcan sneered, “You’re guessing this based on your many years of experience in war?” “Watch it,” Rowan snarled.
“I choose this, Manon.” Manon only glanced at the hand on Lorcan’s arm. “We’ll discuss this later.”
Hahahhahahhaa
Aelin looked Lorcan over and jerked her chin. “Go brood somewhere else.”
Aelin snorted. “Your soldiers look like they’ve seen better days.” “Oh, they always look like that. I’ve tried and tried to get them to focus on outside appearances as much as improving their inner beauty, but … you know how men are.”
Ansel, with a swaggering arrogance that completely explained why she and Aelin had become fast friends,
Rowan couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Aelin beam with pure delight as she breathed, “Kasida.”
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.”
A7sn
Manon Blackbeak burst out laughing.
That’s new
Aedion debated whether or not to go for subtlety and gave himself the span of three breaths to decide. In the end, he went for his usual method, which had served him well both on and off battlefields: a precise sort of blunt attack, edged with enough outright arrogance to throw his opponents off their guard. “Whatever this is,” he said with a half smile, “between us?”
Hahahhahahahhaha
Lysandra indeed went on the defensive and showed her hand. “I know my history is … unappealing.” “I’m going to stop you right there,” Aedion said, daring a step closer. “And I’m going to tell you that there is nothing unappealing about you. Nothing.
*CRYINGGG*
“It’d be nice,” Aedion grumbled from down the table, where he and Rowan glared at them, “to be included in just one of these schemes, Aelin.” “But your faces are so wonderful when I get to reveal them,” Aelin crooned. He and Rowan growled. Oh, she knew they were pissed. So pissed that she hadn’t told them about Ansel. But the thought of disappointing them, of failing … She’d wanted to do this on her own.
Rowan drew an inward arrow from the leftmost line toward the one in the center, and said quietly so the others in the adjacent rooms or hall couldn’t hear, “Ansel and her army hammer from the western mountains.” Another arrow in an opposite direction—toward the line on the far right. “Rolfe, the Mycenians, and this armada strike from the eastern coast.”
Right, why confuse things..
“Am I not called to open it? To learn how to save us, and to pay the price?”
Did she kill herself to forge the lock????
“No,” Elena said quietly. “Not you. Not in this way.”
& Who are you to decide who lives & who dies?
“In the North, two branches flow from Mala. One to the Havilliard House, where its prince with my mate’s eyes possesses my raw magic—and her brute power. The other branch flows through the Galathynius House, where it bred true: flame and embers and ashes.”
You also decided who lives & dies??
“You will not see Eyllwe again.”
Rowan had told Enda about Aelin. He had told his cousin about the woman he loved, the queen whose heart burned with wildfire. He had told Enda about Erawan, and the threat of the keys, and Maeve’s own desire for them. And then he had gotten on his knees and begged his cousin to help. To not open fire on Terrasen’s armada. But on Maeve’s. To not squander this one chance at peace. At halting the darkness before it consumed them all, both from Morath and Maeve. To fight not for the queen who had enslaved him, but the one who had saved him.
😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
Every single one of his cousins had attacked. Every single one. As if they had all met, all decided to risk ruination together. Rowan had not possessed an army of his own to give to Aelin. To give to Terrasen. So he had won an army for her. Through the only things Aelin had claimed were all she wanted from him. His heart. His loyalty. His friendship. And Rowan wished his Fireheart were there to see it as the House of Whitethorn slammed into Maeve’s fleet, and ice and wind exploded across the waves.
I can’t!! My heart IS SOO FULL IT’S GOING TO EXPLODE 😭😭😭♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️
However he’d convinced them, whenever he’d convinced them … Whitethorn had done it. For her. All of it, for Aelin.
Elena flinched. “Dorian was not ready. You were. The choice Nehemia and I made was to ensure that things went according to plan.”
And who are you to decide?!!!!
“The Queen Who Was Promised,” Aelin said. “But not to the world. To the gods—to the keys.” To pay the price. To be their sacrifice in order to seal the keys in the gate at last.
Deanna’s appearance hadn’t been only to tell her how to use the mirror, but to remind her that she belonged to them. Had a debt owed to them.
“You died,” Elena whispered. “Right there, you died. You had fought so hard, and I failed you. And in that moment, I didn’t care that I’d again failed the gods, or my promise to make it right, or any of it. All I could think …” Tears ran down Elena’s face. “All I could think was how unfair it was. You had not even lived, you had not even been given a chance … And all those people, who had wished and waited for a better world … You would not be there to give it to them.”
Arobynn’s hands hesitated as he noticed the Amulet of Orynth. He eased the amulet from around her neck and placed it in his pocket. Gently, he scooped her into his arms and carried her up the bank to his waiting horse.
Can't he do something nice without that greediness setting in?
“You were barely climbing out of slavery,” Elena said. “Hardly holding yourself together, trying so hard to pretend that you were still strong and whole. There was only so much I could do to guide you, nudge you along. The mirror was forged and hidden to one day show you all of this. In a way I couldn’t tell you—not when I could only manage a few minutes at a time.”
But I sent you to Wendlyn for the healing. And so you would … find him. The one who had been waiting so long for you.”
* Crying *
“He was a voice in the void, a secret, silent dreamer. And so were his companions. But the Fae Prince, he was …”
Mate!! Mate!! Mate!!
That roar sounded again as a mighty shape shot down from the heavy clouds. A wyvern. A wyvern with shimmering wings. And behind it, descending upon the Fae fleet with wicked delight, flew twelve others.
The thirteen or twelve!!!! NOT DEAD!!! FROM NOW AND UNTIL THE DARKNESS CLAIMS US!!!
A wicked grin and an incline of her head. “Then we shall clear the field for you.”
I love love love the arrogance!! Haha!!
“We don’t want the witches to make us look bad, do we?”
But Maeve said, “I sever the blood oath with you, Gavriel. Without honor, without good faith. You are dismissed from my service and stripped of your title.” “You bitch,” Fenrys snapped as Gavriel’s breathing turned shallow. “Majesty, please—” Gavriel hissed,
Sooo many different feelings and emotions in these few lines 🥺
Fenrys snarled, his face more lupine than Fae, but Maeve laughed softly. “Oh, you’d like for me to do the same, wouldn’t you, Fenrys? But what greater punishment for the one who is a traitor to me in his very soul than to serve me forever?”
“What a powerhouse you two would be—you and Prince Rowan. And any offspring of that union …” A vicious smirk. “You and Rowan could rule this continent if you wished. But your children … your children would be powerful enough to rule an empire that could sweep the world.”
Aelin had known. That Lorcan had betrayed her and summoned Maeve here. That she had been living on borrowed time. And she had married Whitethorn … so Terrasen could have a king. Perhaps had been spurred into action because she knew Lorcan had already betrayed her, that Maeve was coming … And Lorcan had not helped her.
His Fireheart. His equal, his friend, his lover. His wife. His mate. That gods-damned bitch had put her in an iron box.
TERRASEN REMEMBERS EVALIN ASHRYVER. DO YOU? I FOUGHT AT MISTWARD FOR YOUR PEOPLE. RETURN THE GODS-DAMNED FAVOR.
Ilias nodded. And glanced at Ansel, who still seemed near vomiting, before saying to Rowan, “It seems my friend has called in many debts in addition to ours.”
“Tell Aelin Galathynius that Wendlyn has never forgotten Evalin Ashryver,” Galan said to him, to Aedion. “Or Terrasen.”
