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January 31 - February 6, 2022
“I just want to be with you,” he murmured. “I don’t care where we go. That’s all I want.”
“When we die,” she said, “I don’t think the gods will even know what to do with us.”
“I love you,” Sam said. Celaena wrapped her arms around him and held him close, breathing in his scent. Her only reply was, “I hate packing.”
Arobynn’s attention drifted back to the wagon, already a small dot in the rolling foothills above Rifthold. “Because I don’t like sharing my belongings,” was his only response.
She’d never be ready for this, for Endovier and the world without Sam.
The breeze grew into a wind, and she closed her eyes, letting it sweep away the ashes of that dead world—of that dead girl. And then there was nothing left except something new, something still glowing red from the forging.
She would tuck Sam into her heart, a bright light for her to take out whenever things were darkest. And then she would remember how it had felt to be loved, when the world had held nothing but possibility. No matter what they did to her, they could never take that away. She would not break.
