Empire of Storms (Throne of Glass, #5)

by Sarah J. Maas

Gavin turned to her with that frank assessment that had stripped her bare from the moment she’d first met him in her father’s hall nearly a year ago. Lifetimes ago.

Impossible. No one could get through those shields. Not even Rowan-rutting-Whitethorn.

And Manon understood in that moment that there were forces greater than obedience, and discipline, and brutality. Understood that she had not been born soulless; she had not been born without a heart.

Then Manon Blackbeak whirled and brought Wind-Cleaver down upon her grandmother.

Huge

Rowan traced his thumb over her mouth. “Even if Maeve had kept me enslaved, I would have fought her. Every day, every hour, every breath.” He kissed her softly and said onto her lips, “I would have fought for the rest of my life to find a way to return to you again. I knew it the moment you emerged from the Valg’s darkness and smiled at me through your flames.” She swallowed the tightness in her throat and raised a brow. “You were willing to do that before all this? So few benefits back then.” Amusement and something deeper danced in his eyes. “What I felt for you in Doranelle and what I feel for you now are the same. I just didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to act on it.”

They could burn the entire world to ashes with it. He was hers and she was his, and they had found each other across centuries of bloodshed and loss, across oceans and kingdoms and war.

“Even when you’re in another kingdom, Aelin, your fire is still in my blood, my mouth.”

Aelin was insane, Dorian realized. Brilliant and wicked, but insane.

“Because I am going to marry you,” he promised her. “One day. I am going to marry you. I’ll be generous and let you pick when, even if it’s ten years from now. Or twenty. But one day, you are going to be my wife.”

Omg??

“Because I’m the only one arrogant and insane enough to ask Mala Fire-Bringer to let me stay with the woman I love.”

“Something tells me,” he said, his breath skittering along her skin, “you might not mind if we were discovered. If someone saw how thoroughly I plan to worship you.”

“I love you. There is no limit to what I can give to you, no time I need. Even when this world is a forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will love you.”

Words did not do it justice. Not in any language, in any world.

And he wondered if Aelin was somehow watching the archipelago, and the seas, and the skies, as if she might never see them again.

The name, roared into the core of flame at the heart of the world, was a beacon, a summons. She’d been born waiting to hear that voice, had blindly sought it her whole life, would follow it unto the ending of all things— “AELIN.”

He gripped her hard, forcing her to meet his eyes as he snarled, “I see you. I see every part of you. And I am not afraid.”

“Remember who you are. Every step of the way down, and every step of the way back. Remember who you are. And that you’re mine.”

The Queen of Flame and Shadow, the Heir of Fire, Aelin of the Wildfire, Fireheart …

But then the flames had vanished, their enemies raining down as ash and ice and corpses, and she’d looked at him … Holy gods, when she’d looked at him, he’d almost fallen to his knees.

“I wanted you from the first moment I saw you in Oakwald,” he said, his voice low and rough.

Dorian omfg

And where Maeve’s black flag of a perching owl had once flapped beside it … now that black flag lowered. Now the dark queen’s flag vanished entirely, as Fae ships bearing the silver banner of the House of Whitethorn opened fire upon their own armada.

That roar sounded again as a mighty shape shot down from the heavy clouds. A wyvern. A wyvern with shimmering wings. And behind it, descending upon the Fae fleet with wicked delight, flew twelve others.

His Fireheart. His equal, his friend, his lover. His wife. His mate.

Bro

Fight her. I am coming for you. Even if it takes me a thousand years. I will find you, I will find you, I will find you.

Unleashing a cry that set the world trembling, Prince Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius, Consort of the Queen of Terrasen, began the hunt to find his wife.

Im sick