Kingdom of Ash (Throne of Glass, #7)

by Sarah J. Maas

And sometimes, he spoke along the bond between them, sending his soul on the wind to wherever she was held captive, entombed. 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

A prince of ice and wind. A prince who had been hers, and she his. Long before the bond between their souls became known to them.

The prince whose scent was kissed with pine and snow, the scent of that kingdom she had loved with her heart of wildfire.

Held on to his memory as if it were a rock in the raging river.

The snows had come early. Even for Terrasen, the first of the autumnal flurries had barreled in far ahead of their usual arrival.

There was nothing kind in the prince’s face. Nothing warm. Only cold-blooded predator. Hell-bent on finding the queen who held his heart.

the tiny bites on her neck, sealed with the salt from the warm waters of Skull’s Bay. Rowan’s marking. A mate’s marking.

He’d broken something. Something precious beyond measure. He’d never cared until now. 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. She’d offered him a home in Perranth knowing he’d be a dishonored male. Offered him a home with her.

For it would take an army to keep Whitethorn from reaching his mate.

His word was his bond, the only currency he cared to trade in. He’d told her that once, during those weeks on the road.

While all other constellations had wheeled past, the Lord of the North remained, the immortal star between his antlers pointing the way home. To Terrasen.