Arobynn shrugged, waving a hand as if to dismiss the questions he’d raised, and walked toward the front door. She watched his every move, took in every step and shift of his shoulders, noted what he looked at. He reached for the brass doorknob, but turned to her. His eyes—those silver eyes that would probably haunt her for the rest of her life—were bright. “No matter what I have done, I really do love you, Celaena.” The word hit her like a stone to the head. He’d never said that word to her before. Ever.
