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

by Sarah J. Maas

I pinched the rock-hard muscle of his forearm. Rhys flashed me a wicked grin before he tilted down— Mountains and snow and trees and sun and utter free fall through wisps of cloud— A breathless scream came out of me as we plummeted. Throwing my arms around his neck was instinct. His low laugh tickled my nape. “You’re willing to brave my brand of darkness and put up one of your own, willing to go to a watery grave and take on the Weaver, but a little free fall makes you scream?” “I’ll leave you to rot the next time you have a nightmare,” I hissed, my eyes still shut and body locked as he snapped out his wings to ease us into a steady glide. “No, you won’t,” he crooned. “You liked seeing me naked too much.” “Prick.” His laugh rumbled against me. Eyes closed, the wind roaring like a wild animal, I adjusted my position, gripping him tighter. My knuckles brushed one of his wings—smooth and cool like silk, but hard as stone with it stretched taut. Fascinating. I blindly reached again … and dared to run a fingertip along some inner edge. Rhysand shuddered, a soft groan slipping past my ear. “That,” he said tightly, “is very sensitive.”