Kingdom of Ash (Throne of Glass, #7)

by Sarah J. Maas

And far away, across the snow-covered mountains, on a barren plain before the ruins of a once-great city, a flower began to bloom.

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

OMG YAY

“I have always wanted a sister,” Dorian said, and leaned to kiss Yrene on either cheek. “Welcome to Adarlan, Lady.”

STOP ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! So sweet

All of them had moved farther down the road, and it was not lost on Rowan that they stood at a crossroads. Or that Dorian and Aelin and Chaol stood in the heart of that crossroads, merely a few miles from the salt mines. Where so much of this had begun, just over a year ago.

“It’s decided, then,” Chaol said quietly. Sadly. “At dawn, the Lock will be forged and the keys go back into the gate,” Dorian finished.

WTF NOOOOO

“No sweet farewells, Princess?” Rowan asked as she traced the mark with her foot. “They seem dramatic,” Aelin said. “Far too dramatic, even for me.” But Rowan halted her, the second symbol half-finished. Tipped back her chin. “Even when you’re … there,” he said, his pine-green eyes so bright under the moon. “I am with you.” He laid a hand on her heart. “Here. I am with you here.” She laid her own hand on his chest, and breathed his scent deep into her lungs, her heart. “As I am with you. Always.” Rowan kissed her. “I love you,” he whispered onto her mouth. “Come back to me.”

Why can I not stop crying?!

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

Sam was with her in the end too

The Eye of Elena, born again—the Lock once more.

Of fucking course…damn it always comes back to Elena

“Nameless is my price,” his father repeated. The warning of an ancient witch, the damning words written on the back of the Amulet of Orynth. “For the bastard-born mark you bear, you are Nameless, yet am I not so as well?” He glanced between them, his eyes wide. “What is my name?”

OMG how have we gone 7 books and not once have I even thought about how we don’t know his name

“My boy,” his father whispered again. And it was love—love and pride and sorrow that shone in his face.

And shoved him through that gateway behind them. Back into their own world. Roaring, Dorian fell.

wut?! Nooooo

She had lied. His Fireheart had lied. And he would now watch her die.

I’m gonna kick her ass

“Your parents are … They are so very proud of you. They asked me to tell you that they love you so very much.” He was nearly invisible now, his words little more than a whisper of wind. “And that the debt has been paid enough, Fireheart.”

Omg so sweet

And then Elena ruptured. Into a thousand shimmering pieces that faded as they fell.

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUUUUUUUUUUUCK

The new tattoo, of spread wings, the story of her and Rowan written in the Old Language amongst the feathers. A flick of Mala’s fingers and symbols rose from it. Hidden within the words, the feathers. Wyrdmarks. Rowan had hidden Wyrdmarks in her tattoo. Had inked Wyrdmarks all over it. “A map home,” Mala said, the image fading. “To him.”

ROWAN YOU SNEAKY BOI. But also I love how he had a secret of his own

She passed through a world where a great city had been built along the curve of a river, the buildings impossibly tall and glimmering with lights.

Is SJM giving us a peek into ACOTAR & Crescent City?

She passed through a world of snowcapped mountains under shining stars. Passed over one of those mountains, where a winged male stood beside a heavily pregnant female, gazing at those very stars. Fae. They were Fae, but this was not her world. She flung out a hand, as if she might signal them, as if they might somehow help her when she was nothing but an invisible speck of power— The winged male, beautiful beyond reason, snapped his head toward her as she arced across his starry sky. He lifted a hand, as if in greeting. A blast of dark power, like a gentle summer night, slammed into her. Not to attack—but to slow her down. A wall, a shield, that she tore and plunged through. But it slowed her. That winged male’s power slowed her, just enough.

IM SCREAMING

She passed through a world of snowcapped mountains under shining stars. Passed over one of those mountains, where a winged male stood beside a heavily pregnant female, gazing at those very stars. Fae. They were Fae, but this was not her world. She flung out a hand, as if she might signal them, as if they might somehow help her when she was nothing but an invisible speck of power— The winged male, beautiful beyond reason, snapped his head toward her as she arced across his starry sky. He lifted a hand, as if in greeting. A blast of dark power, like a gentle summer night, slammed into her. Not to attack—but to slow her down. A wall, a shield, that she tore and plunged through. But it slowed her. That winged male’s power slowed her, just enough.

Rhys and Feyre - I cannot

A weak hand landed on his back, running over the tattoo he’d inked. As if tracing the symbols he’d hidden there, in a desperate, wild hope. “I came back,” she rasped.

Likely would have married her, too, if he’d had the chance.

lol I highly doubt Chaol would have let that happen

Ever since word had come at sundown that Murtaugh had fallen.

No, he’s never gonna get to see the end or see Aelin again. I can’t stop crying.

“I should like to face my enemies knowing that the heart of my lands, of this kingdom, will beat on in the chest of Evangeline. That no matter the gathering shadow, Terrasen will always live in someone who understands its very essence without needing to be taught. Who embodies its very best qualities.”

Yes!! Yay sweet Evangeline

Before them all, riding on the Lord of the North, was Aelin.

HELL YES

For Terrasen. All of it, for Terrasen.

Hers was not a story of darkness.