A Court of Silver Flames (A Court of Thorns and Roses, #4)

by Sarah J. Maas

Everything it had stolen from her, from Elain, she would take from it. Wrapped in black eternity, Nesta and the Cauldron twined, burning through the darkness like a newborn star.

Cassian said to Amren, “I didn’t even know we had laws like that about court membership.” “We don’t.” Amren picked at her red-painted nails. He swore under his breath.

So Nesta had become a wolf. Armed herself with invisible teeth and claws, and learned to strike faster, deeper, more lethally. Had relished it. But when the time came to put away the wolf, she’d found it had devoured her, too.

“If you think this training nonsense is going to result in you climbing into my bed, you’re delusional.” She added with a slice of a smile, “I’d sooner let in a mangy street dog.” “Oh, it’s not going to result in me climbing into your bed.” Nesta snickered, victory achieved, and had reached the stairs when he crooned, “You’ll climb into mine.”

I am worthless and I am nothing, Nesta nearly said. She wasn’t sure why the words bubbled up, pressing on her lips to voice them. I hate everything that I am. And I am so, so tired. I am tired of wanting to be anywhere but in my own head.

Let her dig her own grave, boy. Then offer her a hand. I thought that’s what this past year has been, he’d countered. Keep reaching out your hand, had been Amren’s only reply.

Ten thousand steps between her and the city—and then a half-mile walk at least from the bottom of the mountain to the nearest tavern. And awaiting, blessed oblivion. Ten thousand steps. She was no longer human. This High Fae body could do it. She could do it. She couldn’t do it.

Elain said, “I went into the Cauldron, too, you know. And it captured me. And yet somehow all you think of is what my trauma did to you.”

“Good seeing you, Clotho.” You as well, Lord Cassian. “Just Cassian,” he said, as he had said so many times now. You are a lord in good deeds. It is not a title born, but earned. He bowed his head as he said thickly, “Thank you.”

“That sword shall be known by history.” Her eyes darkened as she looked at the great sword, her words echoing. “It remains to be seen whether it shall be known for good or evil.”

Cassian drummed his fingers on the desk, curiosity biting deep. “Let’s have a look.” “Amren said not to,” Azriel warned. “Amren’s not here,” Cassian said, smirking. “And we don’t need to touch them.” He clapped Rhys on the shoulder. “Use that fancy magic to unsheathe them.” Rhys lifted his head. “This is a bad idea.”

Nesta said to Tamlin before they shot into the skies, “Tell anyone you saw us, High Lord, and I’ll rip your head from your body, too.”

“Welcome back to the Night Court, Nesta Archeron.”