Heir of Fire (Throne of Glass, #3)

by Sarah J. Maas

Faster than she could sense, faster than anything had a right to be, he punched her.

So they swore at each other, sat in brooding silence on the temple ruin, and occasionally had those unspoken shouting matches.

Hot

Because she was Manon Blackbeak, and she’d never failed at anything.

“She is eight—and she has told me that her dearest friends are characters in books.”

It could all go to hell tomorrow, but she had to know what it was like, just for a little while, to belong to someone, to be wanted and cherished.

And when she awoke before dawn, warm and safe and rested, Rowan was still holding her hand, clasped to his chest. Something molten rushed through her, pouring over every crack and fracture still left gaping and open. Not to hurt or mar—but to weld. To forge.

“At least if you’re going to hell,” he said, the vibrations in his chest rumbling against her, “then we’ll be there together.”

Yet this was not the end—this was not her end. She had survived loss and pain and torture; she had survived slavery and hatred and despair; she would survive this, too.

“in a land long since burned to ash, there lived a young princess who loved her kingdom … very much.”

It turned out that the “submission” part of a blood oath was something Rowan liked to interpret as it suited him.

She lifted her face to the stars. She was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, heir of two mighty bloodlines, protector of a once-glorious people, and Queen of Terrasen. She was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius—and she would not be afraid.