Kingdom of Ash (Throne of Glass, #7)

by Sarah J. Maas

And as Chaol Westfall dismounted and ran the last few feet toward Dorian, the King of Adarlan wept.

ME TOO DORIAN

My name is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, and I will not be afraid. I will not be afraid. I will not be afraid.

Once upon a time, in a land long since burned to ash, there lived a young princess who loved her kingdom …

Rowan had hidden Wyrdmarks in her tattoo. Had inked Wyrdmarks all over it. “A map home,” Mala said, the image fading. “To him.”

IF HE WANTED TO HE WOULD

“I should have very much liked to live at Caraverre,” Evangeline admitted. She knew he did not recognize it, but it didn’t matter now, did it? “Murtaugh showed me the land—the rivers and mountains right nearby, the forests and hills.” An ache throbbed in her chest. “I saw the gardens by the house, and I would have liked to have seen them in spring.” Her throat tightened. “I would have liked for that to have been my home. For this … for all of Terrasen to have been my home.”

“I will find you again,” he promised her. “In whatever life comes after this.”

And before them all, sword raised to the sky as that horn blew one last time, the ruby in the blade’s pommel smoldering like a small sun … Before them all, riding on the Lord of the North, was Aelin.

Cadre, yet more than that. Brothers—the warriors fighting at his side were his brothers. Had stayed with him through all of it. And would continue to do so now.

Aelin had come.

Father and son, they would do this. Defeat this. But when his father did not join his side, Aedion turned.

Gavriel smiled at him. “Close the gate, Aedion,” was all his father said.

Stopped seeing everything but the fallen warrior, who gazed toward the darkening sky with sightless eyes. His tattooed throat ripped out. His sword still gripped in his hand. Gavriel. His father.

Hi yes i dn ask for this heartbreak

So she whispered it to herself, one last time. The story. Her story. Once upon a time, in a land long since burned to ash, there lived a young princess who loved her kingdom …

Aelin Galathynius had appeared before the sealed southern gate. Had appeared before Erawan and Maeve. Her unbound hair billowed in the wind like a golden banner, a last ray of light with the dying of the day.

Still Aelin lifted her sword. Flames ran down the blade. One flame against the darkness gathered. One flame to light the night. Aelin raised her shield, and flames encircled it, too.

The queen had come home at last. The queen had come to hold the gate.

Her name was Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius. And she would not be afraid.

She would not be ashamed to see those she had loved with her heart of wildfire.

Aelin smiled, and Goldryn burned brighter. “I am a god.” She unleashed herself upon them.

The power of creation and destruction. That’s what lay within her. Life-Giver. World-Maker.

Life—life was pain. Pain, and joy. Joy because of the pain.

In every line and age mark. In every white hair. A life lived—together. The pain of parting because of how wonderful it had been.

Fireheart, her mother had called her. Not for her power. The name had never once been about her power.

“You will not find them. In this sky, or any other.”

She went still. “Who?” Manon’s throat bobbed. “All.” All of the Thirteen. All those fierce, brilliant witches. Gone.

“I will bind my life to yours. So we will never know a day apart. Never be alone, ever again.”

Omg he loved her sm

And

“I love you both,” she whispered. “And no matter what may happen, no matter how far we may be, that will never change.”

“To whatever end?” she breathed. Rowan followed her, as he had his entire life, long before they had ever met, before their souls had sparked into existence. “To whatever end, Fireheart.”

For across every mountain, spread beneath the green canopy of Oakwald, carpeting the entire Plain of Theralis, the kingsflame was blooming.

PEACE!!!!