Throne of Glass (Throne of Glass #0.1–0.5, 1–7)

by Sarah J. Maas

moment later, Rowan was behind her, sitting against the trunk. He pulled her against him, her back to his chest as he folded his arms around her, hiding her scent from the monsters raging below.

Snuggle time!!

She envied him for it. And beneath that, with a growing heaviness she could not control, she wished that when she left this continent … she wouldn’t go alone.

Crying forever!!

but Rowan made her feel … better. As if she could finally breathe after months of suffocating.

“For whatever it’s worth, all of this just proves that she doesn’t deserve you. I think you know that, too.” He looked away. “That isn’t your concern.” “I know. But I thought you should still hear it.”

She loves him

So she left Rowan in the hall. But it did not stop her from wishing she could keep him.

And the sound of it, that name that had once been a promise to the world, the name she had spat on and defiled, the name she did not deserve …

The world was full of screaming and wailing, so loud she drowned in it.

“I have …” Aedion’s teeth gleamed in the light. “I have been forced to do many, many things. Depraved, despicable things. Yet nothing made me feel as filthy as I did today, thanking that man for murdering my people.”

Oh Aedion. You’ll get him.

When the final note finished, the conductor turned to the crowd, the musicians standing with him. As one, they looked to the boxes, to all those jewels bought with the blood of a continent. And without a word, without a bow or another gesture, they walked off the stage. The next morning, by royal decree, the theater was shut down. No one saw those musicians or their conductor again.

I’ve never cried so hard.

She gritted her teeth. “You have experience—you are needed here. You are the only person who can give the demi-Fae a chance of surviving; you are trusted and respected. So I am staying. Because you are needed, and because I will follow you to whatever end.”

Whatever end

“To whatever end?”

Damn straight Rowan.

And when she grasped the dagger, its weight lighter than she remembered, Rowan looked into her eyes, into the very core of her, and said, “Fireheart.”

He’s just perfect

“I claim you, Rowan Whitethorn. I don’t care what you say and how much you protest. I claim you as my friend.”

Claim him before I do

A monster to destroy monsters.

You go Queen

She had lied to him. She had wanted to save lives, yes. But she had gone out there with no intention of saving her own.

“Tell my Elide …” Her voice broke. “Tell my Elide that I love her very much.”

Sobbing

Then the process of taking her fear and guilt and despair and twisting them into something new. Then the hate—the hate that had rebuilt her, the rage that had fueled her, smothering the memories she buried in a grave within her heart and never let out.

She was their queen, and she could offer them nothing less.

He knew Aelin was alive, because during all these weeks that they had been breathing each other’s scents, they had become bonded.

Scents mixing…..sounds like something I’ve heard before.

A rumbling shook the earth, and they froze. Beneath them some huge power was surging—a behemoth rising from the deep.

My Queen is powerful

She knew it would work. She had suspected it for some time now. They were carranam. He had come for her.

“To whatever end?” He nodded, and she joined hands with him, blood to blood and soul to soul, his other arm coming around to grip her tightly. Their hands clasped between them, he whispered into her ear, “I claim you, too, Aelin Galathynius.”

Again you better before I do

“I have never told anyone this story. No one in the world knows it. But it’s mine,” she said, blinking past the burning in her eyes, “and it’s time for me to tell it.” Rowan leaned back on the rock, bracing his palms behind him. “Once upon a time,” she said to him, to the world, to herself, “in a land long since burned to ash, there lived a young princess who loved her kingdom … very much.”

It was a message to the world. Aelin was a warrior, able to fight with blade or magic. And she was done with hiding.

Dorian might have found it funny—so typically Celaena to make such a flamboyant return—

When Celaena got back, when she returned as she’d sworn she would … Then they would set about changing the world together.

She was the heir of ash and fire, and she would bow to no one.

No she fucking wouldn’t

“Not for all the world, Aelin? But what about for Prince Rowan?”

She knew the gold in her eyes had shifted to flame, because when she looked to Maeve, the queen’s face had gone bone-white. And then Celaena set the world on fire.

“One thought from me, and your city will burn.” “It is stone,” Maeve snapped. Celaena smiled. “Your people aren’t.”

My god Aelin is so hot

“Behold my power, Maeve. Behold what I grapple with in the deep dark, what prowls under my skin.”

All of it—all of it for him.

Always

That was all Celaena needed to hear before she tossed the ring to Maeve, before Rowan rushed to her, his hands on her cheeks, his brow against her own.

I claim you, Aelin. To whatever end.

I’m in line too

But all she could see was the unconditional love in that dying wyvern’s eyes as she unbuckled her harness, stood from the saddle, and leapt off Abraxos.

“They have made you into monsters. Made, Manon. And we feel sorry for you.”

He could not accept that part of her, so bloodthirsty and unyielding.

He had just touched Sorscha’s limp hand when cool stone gripped his throat, there was a faint click and hiss, and the darkness swept in to tear him apart.

“I am going, Rowan. I will gather the rest of my court—our court—and then we will raise the greatest army the world has ever witnessed. I will call in every favor, every debt owed to Celaena Sardothien, to my parents, to my bloodline. And then …” She looked toward the sea, toward home. “And then I am going to rattle the stars.”

“It was a selfish wish, and a fool’s hope.” She read the rest of it in his eyes. But it came true.

She lifted her face to the stars. She was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, heir of two mighty bloodlines, protector of a once-glorious people, and Queen of Terrasen. She was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius—and she would not be afraid.

He could not remember his name. That was the first thing he’d forgotten when the darkness enveloped him weeks or months or eons ago. Then he’d forgotten the names of the others who had meant so much to him.

Aww Dorian. My heart is breaking.

Black for death; black for his two Wyrdkeys; black for the Valg demons he was now using to build himself an unstoppable army.

Aelin had given herself a day at sea to rest and to miss Rowan. With the blood oath now eternally binding her to the Fae Prince—and him to her—his absence was like a phantom limb. She still felt that way, even when she had so much to do, even though missing her carranam was useless and he’d no doubt kick her ass for it.

It’s okay to miss him. I miss him.

There were two men in this city responsible for destroying her life and the people she’d loved. She would not leave Rifthold until she’d buried them both.

Get them Aelin. I’m right behind you.

Actually, I believe the title our esteemed friends in the empire now like to use is ‘fire-breathing bitch-queen.’ ”

My favorite nickname

She wished Rowan were beside her, wished she could smell his pine-and-snow scent and know that no matter what news Arobynn bore, no matter how it shattered her, the Fae warrior would be there to help put the pieces back together.

By the time the copper thudded on the table, the wyvern glinting in the dim light, Aelin Galathynius was ready for bloodshed.

As she’d hacked her way through body after body, she wondered if he’d even realized that this entire evening had been a test for him as well, and that she’d brought those men right to the Vaults. She wondered how furious he would be when he discovered what was left of the pleasure hall that had brought him so much money.

Hard to play the game when you don’t know the rules.”

Yea Chaol stfu