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I will find you.
Once upon a time, in a land long since burned to ash, there lived a young princess who loved her kingdom …
But that hunt would come later. After they found Aelin. Or whatever remained of her.
She’d offered him a home in Perranth knowing he’d be a dishonored male. Offered him a home with her.
And tell him thank you—for walking that dark path with me back to the light. It had been his honor. From the very beginning, it had been his honor, the greatest of his immortal life. An immortal life they would share together—somehow. He’d allow no other alternative. Rowan silently swore it to the stars. He could have sworn the Lord of the North flickered in response.
She didn’t tell the Healer on High that she wasn’t entirely sure how much longer she’d be a help—not yet.
Hadn’t whispered a word of that doubt to anyone, even Chaol. Yrene’s hand drifted across her abdomen and lingered.
So Aelin might never forget that this box had been made for her, long before she’d been born.
“To defend, Aelin. To protect.”
The scent of their tears filled the tiny room as he worked. Neither of them said a word.
Fireheart. The words were a gentle brush down her cheek. Fireheart, why do you cry? And from far away, deep within her, Aelin whispered toward that ray of memory, Because I am lost. And I do not know the way.
The best series I have ever read. I thought ACOTAR was my favorite but this tops it 100%
You must be brave a little while longer, and remember … Her mother placed a phantom hand over Aelin’s heart. It is the strength of this that matters. No matter where you are, no matter how far, this will lead you home.
You do not yield. Then she was gone, like dew under the morning sun. But the words lingered. Blossomed within Aelin, bright as a kindled ember. You do not yield.
“And what am I, then?”
Dorian’s voice dropped into a low purr. “Do you know what I feel like doing?”
“Is there something you’d rather do instead, witchling?”
“Shut me up, then,”
Lysandra had wondered more than once what in the princess’s long life had made her that way—wary and solemn, yet not wholly aloof.
For a heartbeat, the urge to sit beside her, to pull her to him, was so strong he nearly yielded to it.
“A decent attempt, but Celaena Sardothien looked a little more amused when she cut men into ribbons.”
“Why would I tell him? I serve Terrasen, and the Galathynius family. I always have.”
it will be because of him, not you.”
“She brought an army to keep us out?” Elide asked. Lorcan glanced at Rowan, his dark eyes full of warning. “Or to keep Aelin in.”
The goddess had been little more than a sunbeam in the rising dawn, and yet he had felt her smile at him.
They’d walked this dark path together back to the light. He would not let the road end here.
“Your wyvern seems like more of a dog than anything.”
“When you finish breaking me apart for the day, how does it feel to know that you are still nothing?”
He would not obey. He would not obey. And slowly, Fenrys got to his feet.
when Aelin Galathynius appeared.
Her blood sang to him of pain and despair, of utter terror. His Fireheart.
As if someone had wiped them away.
And behind them, Aelin continued as well. So Rowan followed her, as he would follow her until his last breath, and beyond it.
Who do you wish to be? “Someone worthy of my friends,” he said into the quiet night. “A king worthy of his kingdom.”
With each stroke beneath the surface, out into the darkness, she could feel it again. Herself. Or whatever was left of it. Aelin. She was Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, and she was Queen of Terrasen.
And if she never returned to who she had been before this, he would not love her any less.
“I’m so tired, Rowan.”
“I know, Fireheart.”
An unbroken Fire-Bringer. Aelin of the Wildfire. She would show the world that lie as well. Make them believe it. Maybe she’d one day believe it, too.
“It is my honor to serve this court. And serve you,”
“I’m your mate,” she said, needing to voice it. “And you are mine.”
“I know you are tired, Fireheart. I know that the burden on your shoulders is more than anyone should endure.” He took their joined hands and laid them on his heart. “But we’ll face this together. Erawan, the Lock, all of it. We’ll face it together. And when we are done, when you Settle, we will have a thousand years together. Longer.”
Not a child of war. But of peace.
He hadn’t meant it. He took it back, all those words.
“No longer Yrene Towers,” Chaol said softly, “but Yrene Westfall.”
“Then let me introduce you, Lady Westfall, to my own husband, Prince Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius.”
“That for once, you are the one who gets knocked on your ass by a surprise.”
“The stygian spiders, the kharankui, answer to their Valg queen. The only Valg queen. To Maeve.”
“You do not face this alone.”
“And you survived two months against Maeve with no magic to protect you. Two months of a Valg queen trying to break into your head, Aelin. To break you.”
“I wanted to die by the end, before she ever threatened me with the collar. And even now, I feel like someone has ripped me from myself. Like I’m at the bottom of the sea, and who I am, who I was, is far up at the surface, and I will never get back there again.”
