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

by Sarah J. Maas

Buttery sunlight that softened the already mild winter day, a small, manicured front lawn—its dried grass near-white—bordered with a waist-high wrought iron fence and empty flower beds, all leading toward a clean street of pale cobblestones.

As if they either didn’t know or weren’t worried that their own High Lord dwelled in one of the many marble town houses lining either side of the street, each capped with a green copper roof and pale chimneys that puffed tendrils of smoke into the brisk sky.

I would not be weak again. I would not be dependent on anyone else.

“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.”

UGHHHHHHHHH OMG

Standing there under the cloudless sky, the winter sun beating on my head, nothing around me save for rock, no shadows in which to hide, nothing to cling to … There it was.

“When you spend so long trapped in darkness, Lucien, you find that the darkness begins to stare back.”

Stars and wind and shadows; peace and dreams and the honed edge of nightmares.

Vengeance indeed danced in that normally placid face.