A Court of Mist and Fury (A Court of Thorns and Roses, #2)

by Sarah J. Maas

“You are—you’re everything to me,” he said thickly. “I need … I need you to be all right. To know they can’t get to you—can’t hurt you anymore.”

“Good to know you’re still a prick, Lucien.”

lol

I really, truly hated my wedding gown. It was a monstrosity of tulle and chiffon and gossamer, so unlike the loose gowns I usually wore: the bodice fitted, the neckline curved to plump my breasts, and the skirts … The skirts were a sparkling tent, practically floating in the balmy spring air.

So many eyes, too many eyes, pressed on me, witnesses to every crime I’d committed, every humiliation—

I was going to fall apart, right there, right then—and they’d see precisely how ruined I was. Help me, help me, help me, I begged someone, anyone.

Ianthe said smoothly, “Come, Bride, and be joined with your true love. Come, Bride, and let good triumph at last.” Good. I was not good. I was nothing, and my soul, my eternal soul, was damned—

Thunder cracked behind me, as if two boulders had been hurled against each other.

I whirled, and through the night drifting away like smoke on a wind, I found Rhysand straightening the lapels of his black jacket.

“Hello, Feyre darling,”

SCREAMING

Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, now stood beside me, darkness leaking from him like ink in water.

“I gave you three months of freedom. You could at least look happy to see me.”

I smelled jasmine first—then saw stars. A sea of stars flickering beyond glowing pillars of moonstone that framed the sweeping view of endless snowcapped mountains. “Welcome to the Night Court,” was all Rhys said.

It was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen.

“You are not a prisoner, Feyre. You made a bargain, and I am calling it in. You will be my guest here, with the privileges of a member of my household. None of my subjects are going to touch you, hurt you, or so much as think ill of you here.”

Rhys laughed, finally sauntering toward the other end of the hall, which ended in a veranda open to the stars. “I’m willing to accept your thanks at any time, you know,” he called to me without looking back.

I barely saw my silk slipper as it flew through the air, fast as a shooting star, so fast that even a High Lord couldn’t detect it as it neared— And slammed into his head. Rhys whirled, a hand rising to the back of his head, his eyes wide. I already had the other shoe in my hand. Rhys’s lip pulled back from his teeth. “I dare you.” Temper—he had to be in some mood today to let his temper show this much.

Tell me why I'm already obsessed with him

“What do you want with me? You said you’d tell me here. So tell me.” Rhys leaned back in his chair, folding powerful arms that even the fine clothes couldn’t hide. “For this week? I want you to learn how to read.”

Though I’d enjoy seeing Rhys’s balls nailed to the wall.”

“If he pisses you off, Feyre, feel free to shove him over the rail of the nearest balcony.”

I read the next two words, then whipped my face toward him. “You look absolutely delicious today, Feyre?! That’s what you wrote?” He leaned back in his seat. As our eyes met, sharp claws caressed my mind and his voice whispered inside my head: It’s true, isn’t it?

This is what happens when you leave your mental shields down. Someone with my sort of powers could slip inside, see what they want, and take your mind for themselves. Or they could shatter it. I’m currently standing on the threshold of your mind … but if I were to go deeper, all it would take would be half a thought from me and who you are, your very self, would be wiped away. Distantly, sweat slid down my temple. You should be afraid. You should be afraid of this, and you should be thanking the gods-damned Cauldron that in the past three months, no one with my sorts of gifts has run into you. Now shove me out.

“I heard what you said.” Prick. Prick, prick, prick. “Then get to work.” Rhys uncoiled to his feet. “And at least have the decency to only call me a prick when your shields are back up.”

The only evidence I had at all that Rhys remained on the premises were the blank copies of the alphabet, along with several sentences I was to write every day, swapping out words, each one more obnoxious than the last: Rhysand is the most handsome High Lord. Rhysand is the most delightful High Lord. Rhysand is the most cunning High Lord.

“I’ll try to be better. I don’t … I can’t control it sometimes. The rage. Today was just … today was bad. With the Tithe, with all of it. Today—let’s forget it, let’s just move past it. Please.”

bro why is tamlin so annoying

“No shoe throwing this time?”

He grinned, bowing at the waist. Even that casual mention of his power failed to chill me, awe me. “But I’ll always make time for you.” I was hungry—I hadn’t yet eaten. And that was indeed worry glimmering behind the cocky, insufferable grin.

I didn’t want to talk about it. “Get out of my head.” “Make me. Push me out. You dropped your shield this morning—anyone could have walked right in.”

“I expected an answer more along the lines of, ‘Don’t ask stupid questions you already know the answer to,’ or my timeless favorite, ‘Go to hell.’

“Rhysand is a spectacular person. Rhysand is the center of my world. Rhysand is the best lover a female can ever dream of.”

A short laugh. “Thank you? Not ‘High lord and servant?’ Or: ‘Whatever it is you want, you can go shove it up your ass, Rhysand.’?” He clicked his tongue. “How disappointing.”

“Did you think his shield would keep us from you? Rhys shattered it with half a thought.”

OF COURSE HE SAVES HER

“Stay here for however long you want. Stay here forever, if you feel like it.” “I—I need to go back at some point.” “Say the word, and it’s done.” He meant it, too. Even if I could tell from the ire in his eyes that he didn’t like it. He’d bring me back to the Spring Court the moment I asked.

“Where are we going?” Rhys’s smile widened into a grin. “To Velaris—the City of Starlight.”

The most powerful High Lord in history. In the countless millennia they had existed here in Prythian, Rhys—Rhys with his smirking and sarcasm and bedroom eyes …

“I’m thinking that I was a lonely, hopeless person, and I might have fallen in love with the first thing that showed me a hint of kindness and safety. And I’m thinking maybe he knew that—maybe not actively, but maybe he wanted to be that person for someone. And maybe that worked for who I was before. Maybe it doesn’t work for who—what I am now.”

“Come on, Feyre. We don’t bite. Unless you ask us to.” Surprise sparked through me, setting my feet moving. Rhys slid his hands into his pockets. “The last I heard, Cassian, no one has ever taken you up on that offer.”

“Tonight—I felt you again. Through the bond. Did I get past your shields?” “No,” he said, scanning the cobblestone streets below. “This bond is … a living thing. An open channel between us, shaped by my powers, shaped … by what you needed when we made the bargain.” “I needed not to be dead when I agreed.” “You needed not to be alone.”

“Amren’s right,” Rhys drawled, leaning against the threshold of the town house sitting room. “You are like dogs, waiting for me to come home. Maybe I should buy treats.”

he's so unserious i love it

“Emissary,” Rhysand said, ignoring his cousin. “Emissary to the Night Court—for the human realm.”

Rhys yanked open the drawers and pulled out my undergarments. He dangled the bits of midnight lace and chuckled. “I’m surprised you didn’t demand Nuala and Cerridwen buy you something else.” I stalked to him, snatching the lace away. “You’re drooling on the carpet.” I slammed the bathing room door before he could respond.

“So I’m your huntress and thief?” His hands slid down to cup the backs of my knees as he said with a roguish grin, “You are my salvation, Feyre.”

SCREAMINGGGGGG

“Did you enjoy the sight of me kneeling before you?”

A dangerous line—one Rhys was forcing me to walk to keep me from thinking about what I was about to face, about what a wreck I was inside.

“You’re a prick, Rhysand,”

fit one though tbf

Cassian’s brows rose—little amusement to be found now. “Someone who let her youngest sister risk her life every day in the woods while she did nothing. Someone who let a fourteen-year-old child go out into that forest, so close to the wall.” My face began heating, and I opened my mouth. To say what, I didn’t know. “Your sister died—died to save my people. She is willing to do so again to protect you from war. So don’t expect me to sit here with my mouth shut while you sneer at her for a choice she did not get to make—and insult my people in the process.”

Cassian and Azriel were to share one, Rhys and I the other. I frowned at the large guest bedroom as Rhys shut the door behind us. The bed was large enough for two, but I wasn’t sharing it. I whirled to him, “I’m not—”

THERES ONLY ONE BED IS THIS A DREAM????? what the heck this book really has me living my best life

a small bed appeared by the door. Rhys plopped onto it, tugging off his boots.

oh.

A snap of Rhys’s fingers, and my nightclothes—and some flimsy underthings—appeared on the bed. “I couldn’t decide which scrap of lace I wanted you to wear, so I brought you a few to choose from.” “Pig,” I barked, snatching the clothes and heading to the adjoining bathing room.

He jerked his chin at my tattoo. “Give a shout down the bond if you get anything accomplished before breakfast.” I frowned at the eye in my palm. “What—literally shout at the tattoo?” “You could try rubbing it on certain body parts and I might come faster.”

I snorted and wrote back, Poor baby High Lord. Life is so hard.