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

by Sarah J. Maas

The icy water bit into the soles of her feet. It was a kiss of venom, a death so permanent that every inch of her roared in defiance.

In the beginning And in the end There was Darkness And nothing more

She did not feel the cold as she sank into a sea that had no bottom, no horizon, no surface. But she felt the burning. Immortality was not a serene youth. It was fire. It was molten ore poured into her veins, boiling her human blood until it was nothing but steam, forging her brittle bones until they were fresh steel.

Everything it had stolen from her, from Elain, she would take from it.

Nesta and the Cauldron twined, burning through the darkness like a newborn star.

“The first time I saw that look on your face, you were still human. Still human, and I nearly went to my knees before you.”

The thought of Cassian pumping into her mouth while Azriel pounded into her from behind, the two of them working her in tandem

“I’m tired of being weak. Of depending on others to defend me.”

“Show me.” Nesta stepped away from the shelf and squared off against him. “Show me where I’m dropping my elbow.” He blinked at the rippling intensity in her face. Then he swallowed. Swallowed, because there she was: a glimpse of that person he’d known before the war with Hybern had ended. A glimmer of her, like a mirage—like if he looked at it too long, she’d slip away and vanish.

Cassian was good. In his soul, in his warrior’s heart, Cassian was good in a way Nesta knew most people were not. In a way she knew she was not and would never be.

To hell with this witch. To hell with restraint and hiding. Nesta let enough of her power simmer to the surface that she knew her own eyes glowed. Let it crackle, even as she ignored its wild, unholy bellowing.

Never again. Never again would she be weak. Never again would she be at someone’s mercy. Never again would she fail. Never again, never again, never again.

“Now we’re going to work on focused breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Do ten of them, then start over. If a thought pops up, acknowledge it, then send it on its way. Tell yourself, I am the rock against which the surf crashes. Your thoughts are the surf. Let them crash over you.”

“Hold on tight.”

Rhys lifted his head. “This is a bad idea.” Cassian winked. “That should be written on the Night Court crest.” A few stars blinked into existence in Rhys’s eyes. Azriel muttered a prayer.

And do not forget that Nesta herself—and Elain, with whatever powers she has—is here. Feyre is here. All three sisters blessed by fate and gifted with powers to match your own.

I am the rock against which the surf crashes.

She didn’t know how to fix it. How to make any of it right. How to stop being this way.

“Everyone deserves happiness. The road there isn’t easy. It is long, and hard, and often traveled utterly blind. But you keep going.” He nodded to the mountains, the lake. “Because you know the destination will be worthwhile.”

No one had ever held such power over me. And I am still terrified that if I let myself have you … it will be taken away. Someone will take it away,

Thread after thread of pure golden light flowed into him, and he met it with his own. Where those threads wove together, life glowed like starfire, and she had never seen anything more beautiful, felt anything more beautiful.

The world was beautiful, and she was so grateful to be in it. To be alive, to be here, to see this.

“Some things are more important than fear.”

And lastly, to all of my readers: your kindness, generosity, and support mean the world to me. Thank you for taking these characters into your hearts, and for allowing me to do what I love most for a living. I am forever grateful.