A Court of Thorns and Roses (A Court of Thorns and Roses, #1-3.5)

by Sarah J. Maas

Thunder cracked behind me, as if two boulders had been hurled against each other. People screamed, falling back, a few vanishing outright as darkness erupted. 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,” he purred.

“Welcome to the Night Court,” was all Rhys said.

“Our nights are far more beautiful, and our sunsets and dawns are exquisite, but we do adhere to the laws of nature.”

“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.”

I was not a pet, not a doll, not an animal. I was a survivor, and I was strong. I would not be weak, or helpless again. I would not, could not be broken. Tamed.