A ​Court of Silver Flames (A Court of Thorns and Roses, #4)

by Sarah J. Maas

Until she’d been hunted by the King of Hybern and the Cauldron. Until she’d realized that everyone she cared for would be used to hurt her, break her, trap her. Until that last battle when she couldn’t stop one thousand Illyrians from dying, and had instead been able to save only one. Him. She would do it again, if forced to. And knowing that … She couldn’t bear that truth, either.

Go! he had begged her as he lay dying. I can’t, she’d wept. I can’t. She didn’t know where the person she’d been in that moment had gone. Couldn’t find her way back to her.

am worthless and I am nothing, Nesta nearly said. She wasn’t sure why the words bubbled up, pressing on her lips to voice them. I hate everything that I am. And I am so, so tired. I am tired of wanting to be anywhere but in my own head.

The Siphons atop his hands warmed, readying for an enemy he refused to acknowledge.

Nesta opened her eyes. “Some of them have been here for hundreds of years and still haven’t been able to come back from what they endured. So what hope do I have?”

Though she had fought back against Tomas, against the Cauldron, against the King of Hybern, they had all happened to her. She had survived, but she had been helpless and afraid. Not today. Today, she would happen to him.

Never again. Never again would she be weak. Never again would she be at someone’s mercy. Never again would she fail. Never again, never again, never again.

and he tried to piece himself back together, to remember what the fuck his name was and where they were. But there was only her. Only this female in his arms. And the only name he could remember was hers.

“I don’t care how much you apologize or try to atone for it or claim you didn’t know the King of Hybern would do such a thing or that you begged him not to do it. You colluded with him. Because you thought Feyre was your property.”

And Nesta knew then that she had not once in her life been loved by her mother as much as Feyre already loved the boy growing within her.

The alternative is fear and panic. I will not let my son feel those things. I will fight for him, for us, until I no longer can.

Did she count—was she worth being counted?

“You don’t need to become some impossible ideal. You don’t need to become sweet and simpering. You can give everyone that I Will Slay My Enemies look—which is my favorite look, by the way. You can keep that sharpness I like so much, that boldness and fearlessness. I don’t want you to ever lose those things, to cage yourself.”

“After my father died, after I failed in so many ways—denying myself of you …” She sobbed. “It was my punishment. Don’t you understand that?” She could barely see him through her tears. “From the moment I met you, I wanted you more than reason. From the moment I saw you in my house, you were all I could think about. And it terrified me. No one had ever held such power over me. And I am still terrified that if I let myself have you … it will be taken away. Someone will take it away, and if you’re dead …” She buried her face in her hands. “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. “I do not deserve you, and I never, ever will.”

“That’s the key, isn’t it? To know the darkness will always remain, but how you choose to face it, handle it … that’s the important part. To not let it consume. To focus upon the good, the things that fill you with wonder.”

“Welcome back to the Night Court, Nesta Archeron.”

“Some things are more important than fear.”

Her throat tightened. She was herself a Made thing—and yet she was a person, too. The magic recognized her as a person and not a thing. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed to be shown that distinction.

And even if the laws had allowed it, he would never take that away from her: the chance to save herself.

“Is it living, though? To take the safe road?”