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May 21 - June 24, 2022
“Hello, Feyre darling,” he purred.
He knew—through that bond, through whatever magic was between us, he’d known I was about to say no.
Does he ever ask you why you hurl your guts up every night, or why you can’t go into certain rooms or see certain colors?”
“I’ve been called worse. In fact, I think you’ve called me worse.”
me. As if he’d known about the time Tamlin had
clanged through me, freezing my veins. “Don’t invade,” I breathed. I’d get on my knees for this. I’d crawl if I had
won’t allow it.” “Tamlin isn’t your keeper, and you know it.” “I’m his subject, and he is my High Lord—” “You are no one’s subject
through another angle in the room, another person’s vantage point— Thoughts slammed
“Don’t you ever think that,” Rhysand hissed, his eyes livid. “Not for one damned moment.”
“I love my people, and my family. Do not think I wouldn’t become a monster to keep them protected.”
“As long as the people who matter most know the truth, I don’t care about the rest.
The voice was at once the night and the dawn and the stars and the earth, and every inch of my body calmed at the primal dominance in it.
I dared a glance at Rhys, and there was something like devastation on his beautiful face. It was gone in a blink.
“Mother’s tits, Rhys,”
“You’re drooling on the carpet.”
“You are my salvation, Feyre.”
This one … I could have sworn that in the pale light, the lines of a six-pointed star radiated across the round, opaque surface. Rhys—this
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.
“I think you and I would shred each other to bits.”
“but it will be a long while yet before I can look at your sisters without wanting to roar at them.”
my body. Tamlin had closed his borders. “What situation with the Spring Court?” “None. As of right now. But you
bit more before heading into the mortal realm to spy on those queens. Amren, at least, knocked this
Twice a year.” “There are taxes on city dwellers, but there is no Tithe.” She clicked her tongue. “But the High Lord of Spring enacts
techniques to get people to do what he wants.” Cassian’s brows rose. “You’ve been here for an hour.” “Oops,” Amren
stare of Tarquin. A seat had
Cresseida. Varian, I could live without, but
war on your behalf make you love him
who knew that there was a price, and one worth paying, for that dream. The bastard-born warriors, the Illyrian half-breed, the monster trapped in a beautiful body, the dreamer born into a court of nightmares … And the huntress with an artist’s
“To the people who look at the stars and wish, Rhys.” He picked up his glass, his gaze so piercing that I wondered why I had bothered blushing at all for Tarquin. Rhys clinked his glass against mine. “To the stars who listen—and the dreams that are answered.”
out my own marveling at what I’d accomplished, the slow-building
speak from only selfishness and cowardice.” The eldest stiffened. “For the greater good—” “Many atrocities,”
“But I forgot to tell him,” I said quietly, opening the door, “that the villain is usually the person who locks up the maiden and throws away the key.” “Oh?” I shrugged. “He was the one who let me out.”
“I am … very glad I met you, Feyre.”
“When you spend so long trapped in darkness, Lucien, you find that the darkness begins to stare back.”
My warrior— Not my anything.
“You look good with wings,” he said, and kissed my brow.
“Like my power isn’t something to run from. Like you see me.”
“Then I would have torn apart the world to get you back.”
“I’m thinking that I can’t stop thinking about you. And that it’s been that way for a long while. Even before I left the Spring Court. And maybe that makes me a traitorous, lying piece of trash, but—”
“You cruel, wicked thing,” he purred, his nose grazing the exposed bit of neck I’d arched beneath him. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you manners?” “I never knew Illyrians were such sensitive babies,”
when drawing hot water for it in my family’s cottage had been more trouble than it was worth. Not when we didn’t even have a bathtub and it required buckets and buckets to get clean. I washed with dark soap that smelled of smoke and pine, and when I was done, I sat there, watching the steam slither amongst the few candles. Mate. The word chased me from
“And that time, I pushed a thought back. Of the night sky—of the image that brought me joy when I needed it most. Open night sky, stars, and the moon. I didn’t know if it was received, but I tried, anyway.”
If you were going to die, I was going to die with you. I couldn’t stop thinking it over and over as you screamed, as I tried to kill her: you were my mate, my mate, my mate.
“And now I want you to know, Rhysand, that I love you.
“I want you to know,” I whispered, “that I am broken and healing, but every piece of my heart belongs to you. And I am honored—honored to be your mate.”
“I love you,”
“You fell in love with me,” I said flatly, “because I reminded you of your friend?”
‘If you don’t marry her, you stupid prick, I will.’ ”
“Which is good,” he added, “because you thought I was the most beautiful male you’d ever seen. So it makes us even.”
© Sarah J. Maas, 2016 Map copyright © Kelly de Groot, 2016 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from
