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“As of this moment, until it is otherwise decided, you shall remain a princess by blood—but not queen.”
“You are my Fireheart.”
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.”
Lorcan Salvaterre listened to the rising snarls in the ancient wood and knew they were likely about to die.
why do i keep reading his last name as salvatore pls
“Your Second, Asterin Blackbeak, shall pay the blood debt between our clans. She dies at sunrise tomorrow.”
“You will find your way, too, Dorian. You’ll find your way out.”
“A storm is coming. A great storm.”
“My hunters are already tracking them. And I am going to hurt them, Aelin Galathynius. I am going to hone them into my most loyal generals. Starting with your Fae Prince—”
ABSOLUTELY NOT
Then Manon Blackbeak whirled and brought Wind-Cleaver down upon her grandmother.
YEAHHHHH
He was over five hundred years old—and this … this girl, young woman, she-devil, whatever she was, had just bluffed and lied her way into a job. A sword-thrower indeed.
“Duke Perrington—or should I call him King Perrington now?—issued a decree, signed by the majority of Adarlan’s lords and ladies, naming you, Majesty, an enemy to your kingdom, and claiming that he liberated Rifthold from your claws after you and the Queen of Terrasen slaughtered so many innocents this spring. It also claims that any ally”—a nod toward Rowan—“is an enemy. And that you will be crushed under his armies if you do not yield.” Silence filled his head. Rolfe went on, perhaps a bit more gently, “Your brother has been named Perrington’s heir and Crown Prince.”
“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?”
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.”
finally omg
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.” “Pity,” Aelin said,
BYE LMAOOO
“You will find, Rolfe, that one does not deal with Celaena Sardothien. One survives her.”
Aelin and Aelin looked at each other. The one in black grinned up at the newcomer. “Oh, you are gorgeous, aren’t you?”
??????
She jerked her chin at Lysandra, and the shifter’s flesh glowed and melted, hair becoming a heavy, straight fall of dark tresses, her skin sun-kissed, her uptilted eyes a striking green.
ohhhh
“Celaena Sardothien is in the queen’s service,” he said. “Your two paths are one. Find one and you’ll find the other.”
oh just tell the poor girl
“You could have used the door,” Fenrys said, arms crossed—a bit too casually. “Why bother when a dramatic entrance is so much more fun?” Aelin countered.
“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.”
This was what drove her out of her mind—this fire between them. 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.
Rowan said smoothly, “Milady has to release bits of her power daily or it can consume her.” Despite herself, despite what she’d done, she decided she wanted Rowan to call her milady at least once every day.
“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.”
WOAH HELLO
