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Once upon a time, in a land long since burned to ash, there lived a young princess who loved her kingdom …
Dorian Havilliard and Manon Blackbeak.
my parents
One blink for yes. Two for no. Three for Are you all right? Four for I am here, I am with you. Five for This is real, you are awake.
Manon had given her no such orders, though. Hadn’t said anything to the Thirteen about what, exactly, the human king was to her. Nothing, she wanted to say.
lets not lie girly
But those were foreign words on her tongue. Love. Peace.
“We will follow you, Manon,” Asterin said softly. Manon turned to her cousin. “Do I deserve that honor?” Asterin’s mouth pressed into a tight line. The slight bump on her nose—Manon had given her that. She’d broken it in the Omega’s mess hall for brawling with mouthy Yellowlegs. Asterin had never once complained about it. Had seemed to wear the reminder of the beating Manon bestowed like a badge of pride. “Only you can decide if you deserve it, Manon.”
“Your life will be forfeit, too. If you retrieve the keys and forge the Lock. Your soul will be claimed as well. Not one scrap of you will live on in the Afterworld.” “There’s no one who would really care about that anyway.” He certainly didn’t. And he’d certainly deserved that sort of end, when he’d failed so many times. With all he’d done.
im tearing up
Hellas damn him, he’d had to resort to giving his cut-up shirt to Whitethorn and Gavriel to hand to her for her cycle. He’d threatened to skin them alive if they’d said it was his, and Elide, with her human sense of smell, hadn’t scented him on the fabric.
need a man to do this for me
Even the severed blood oath, still gaping wide within his soul, didn’t come close to the hole in his chest when he looked at 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.
Her clear eyes scanned his. “I love you,” she said softly. Chaol lowered his brow until it rested against hers. “Tell me that when we’re knee-deep in freezing mud, will you?” She snorted, but made no move to pull away. Neither did he. So brow to brow and soul to soul, they stood there amid the bitter wind and lashing waves, and waited to see what the ruks might discover.
they are so cute
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.
girl- this is NOT the time
Teeth flashing, it brought down its massive paw. Manon ducked, rolling to the side, and Dorian hurled out a wall of his magic—wind and ice. The bear was blasted back, hitting the snow with an icy thump. It was instantly up again, racing for Manon. Only Manon. Half a thought had Dorian flinging invisible hands to halt the beast. Just as it collided with his magic, snow spraying, light flashed.
PROTECTING HIS GIRLLLLL
“You are both at the mercy of my coven,” Manon snarled. “Step aside.” Dorian gave her a slight smile. “Am I?” A wind colder than the mountain air filled the pass. He could kill them all. Whether by choking the air from them or snapping their necks. He could kill them all, and the wyverns included.
why is that so hot-- im sorryyyyy (not)
“I’m still not convinced, princeling,” she hissed, “that I shouldn’t just kill her.” “And what would it take, witchling, to convince you?” He didn’t bother to hide the sensual promise in his words, nor their edge.
Aelin opened her eyes. Lifted her bound hands before her. And gave Maeve an obscene gesture, as filthy and foul as she’d ever made.
even tortured my girl is still a bad bitch
The blade plunged down. Not into Fenrys. But Connall’s own heart.
“Aedion.” He’d know that voice if he were blind.
“Just as you blindly obeyed our queen, you’ll now obey me?” “I obey no man,” she snarled.
love lysandra
Chaol tightened his hand around hers in silent thanks. Dorian would have said the same.
their reunion is going to break me
The Queen Who Was Promised. Promised to die, to surrender herself to fulfill an ancient princess’s debt. To save this world.
The whispered word floated through the eternal night, a glimmer of sound, of light. Fireheart. The woman’s voice was soft, loving. Her mother’s voice. Aelin turned her face away. Even that movement was more than she could bear. Fireheart, why do you cry? Aelin could not answer. 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.
i just threw my kindle- stop it rn im going to cry
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.
“You may stay here, if you wish.” Dorian gave her a lazy smile. “And miss the fun?” Yet she caught the gleam in his eye—the understanding that perhaps he alone could grasp. That she was not just about to face an enemy, but a potential people. He subtly nodded. “We all go in.”
“And who, exactly, are you?” Dorian gave the witch one of those charming smiles and sketched a bow. “Dorian Havilliard, at your service.” “The king,” one of the Crochans murmured from near the wyverns. Dorian winked. “That I am, too.”
im on my knees immediately
“Do you want me to keep quiet, or be at your side?” “Asterin is my Second.” “And what am I, then?” The smooth question ran a hand down her spine, as if he’d caressed her with those invisible hands of his. “You are the King of Adarlan.” “Shall I be a part of the discussions, then?” “If you feel like it.” She felt his rising annoyance and hid her smirk. Dorian’s voice dropped into a low purr. “Do you know what I feel like doing?” She twisted her head to glare at him incredulously. And found the king smirking.
FREAKKKKSSS YOU FREAKSSSS (i love it)
“Are you presuming to give me advice?” “Consider it a tip, from one monarch to another.” Despite who walked ahead of them, behind them, Manon smiled slightly. He surprised her further by saying, “I’ve been tunneling into my power since they appeared. One wrong move from them, and I’ll blast them into nothing.” A shiver rippled down her back at the cold violence in his voice. “We need them as allies.” Everything she was to do today, tonight, was to seal such a thing. “Then let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, witchling.”
Manon bellowed his name, and Crochan arrows fired. The Yellowlegs sentinel’s eyes stared at no one, nothing. A gaping maw opened before him, jaws stretching wide. Manon screamed his name again, but he couldn’t move. The wyvern swept down, and darkness yawned wide as those jaws closed around him. As Dorian let his magic rip free of its tethers. One heartbeat, the wyvern was swallowing him whole, its rancid breath staining the air. The next, the beast was on the ground, corpse steaming. Steaming, from what he’d done to it. Not to it, but to himself. The body he’d turned into solid flame, so hot
...more
omfg omfg
He smiled at the spider. She smiled back. And then he struck. Invisible hands wrapped around her neck and twisted. Right as his magic plunged into her navel, into where the stolen seed of human magic resided, and wrapped around it. He held on, a baby bird in his hands, as the spider died. Studied the magic, every facet of it, before it seemed to sigh in relief and fade into the wind, free at last. Cyrene slumped to the ground, eyes unseeing.
HOLY SHIT
“Thirteen is an uneven number,” she said by way of explanation. “I’ve always had a tent to myself.” “Sorry to ruin that for you.” She cut him a drily amused glance before seating herself on the bedroll and unlacing her boots.
“She was a threat,” he admitted. And a Valg piece of shit. Wariness now flooded her eyes. “She could have killed you.” He gave her a half smile. “No, she couldn’t have.”
“Is there something you’d rather do instead, witchling?” His voice turned rough, and he knew she could hear his heartbeat as it began hammering. Her only answer was to slide over him, strands of her hair falling around them in a curtain. “I said I don’t want to talk,” she breathed, and lowered her mouth to his neck. Dragged her teeth over it, right through that white line where the collar had been. Dorian groaned softly, and shifted his hips, grinding himself into her. Her breath became jagged in answer, and he ran a hand down her side. “Shut me up, then,” he said, a hand drifting southward to
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i love them sm nobody is beating them
Only with her did he not need to explain. Only with her did he not need to be a king, or anything but what he was. Only with her would there be no judgment for what he’d done, who he’d failed, what he might still have to do.
He had killed his way across the world; he had gone to war and back more times than he cared to remember. And despite it all, despite the rage and despair and ice he’d wrapped around his heart, he’d still found Aelin. Every horizon he’d gazed toward, unable and unwilling to rest during those centuries, every mountain and ocean he’d seen and wondered what lay beyond … It had been her. It had been Aelin, the silent call of the mating bond driving him, even when he could not feel it. They’d walked this dark path together back to the light. He would not let the road end here.
Manon gave him a look that might have sent a lesser man running. “They’re still blue.” Gods above, she was beautiful. He wondered when it would stop feeling like a betrayal to think so.
He’d never had anything like her. He sometimes wondered if she’d never had anything like him, either. He’d seen how often she found her pleasure when he took the reins, when her body writhed beneath his and she lost control entirely.
“I like the ice best,” Dorian admitted at last, realizing he’d let the silence drip on. “It was the first element that came out of me—I don’t know why.” “You’re not a cold person.” He arched a brow. “Is that your professional opinion?” Manon studied him. “You can descend to those levels when you are angry, when your friends are threatened. But you are not cold, not at heart. I’ve seen men who are, and you are not.” “Neither are you,” he said a bit quietly.
im literally tearing up rn
“I am one hundred seventeen years old,” she said flatly. “I have spent the majority of that time killing. Don’t convince yourself that the events of the past few months have erased that.” “Keep telling yourself that.” He doubted anyone had ever spoken to her that baldly—relished that he now did, and kept his throat intact. She snarled in his face. “You’re a fool if you believe the fact that I am their queen wipes away the truth that I have killed scores of Crochans.” “That fact will always remain. It’s how you make it count now that matters.”
“Is it so bad, to care?” The gods knew he’d been struggling to do so himself. “I don’t know how to,” she growled. Ridiculous. An outright lie. Perhaps it was because of the high likelihood that he’d be collared again at Morath, perhaps it was because he was a king who’d left his kingdom in an enemy’s grip, but Dorian found himself saying, “You do care. You know it, too. It’s what makes you so damn scared of all this.”
“Caring doesn’t make you weak,” he offered. “Then why don’t you heed your own advice?” “I care.” His temper rose to meet hers. And he decided to hell with it—decided to let go of that leash he’d put on himself. Let go of that restraint. “I care about more than I should. I even care about you.”
I even care about you.
Caring doesn’t make you weak. The king was a fool. Little more than a boy. What did he know of anything? Still the words burrowed under her skin, her bones. Is it so bad, to care? She didn’t know. Didn’t want to know.
Dawn was not too far off when a warm body slid beside his. Dorian said into the darkness, “Three to a tent isn’t too comfortable, is it?” “I didn’t come back because I agree with you.” Manon yanked the blankets over herself. Dorian smiled slightly, and fell asleep once more, letting his magic warm them both. When they awoke, something sharp in his chest had dulled—just a fraction.
“At least they agree with me on one front. You’re spineless. Have to tie up people to hurt them because it makes you feel like a male.” Aelin gave a pointed glance between his legs. “Inadequate in the ways that count.”
She blinked at him. Four times. I am here, I am with you. Fenrys knew it for what it was.
With a roar, Fenrys leaped. And with it, he snapped the blood oath completely.
im sobbing
Lorcan didn’t expect the sob in his throat as she raced between the tents, as he beheld the iron mask and the chains on her, hands still bound.
She charged past, aiming straight for the field and hills. To where Lorcan ran for her. He signaled again. To me, to me.
“Take it off.” The queen’s guttural words were swallowed by the moss-crusted trees. “I’m trying,” Lorcan said—not gently, though certainly without his usual coldness. The dagger scraped in the lock, but to no avail. “Take it off.” The queen began trembling. “I’m—” Aelin snatched the dagger from him, metal clicking on metal as she fitted the blade’s tip into the lock. The dagger shook in her ironclad hand. “Take it off,” she breathed, lips curling back from her teeth. “Take it off. ”
