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

by Sarah J. Maas

Faster than any of us could see, Jurian fired a hidden ash bolt through Azriel’s chest. Mor screamed.

I began shaking my head as if I could unsee it as Lucien and Tamlin stepped into the light.

Cassian stirred again, his shredded wings twitching and spraying blood, his muscles quivering. At Nesta’s shouts, her raging, his eyes fluttered open, glazed and unseeing, an answer to some call in his blood, a promise he’d made her. But pain knocked him under again.

But Elain was staring over Nesta’s shoulder. At Lucien—whose face she had finally taken in. Dark brown eyes met one eye of russet and one of metal. Nesta was still weeping, still raging, still inspecting Elain— Lucien’s hands slackened at his sides. His voice broke as he whispered to Elain, “You’re my mate.”

They were already looking at me. Faces bloody and cold and enraged. But beneath them … I knew it was love beneath them. They understood the tears that rolled down my face as I silently said good-bye.

“She is my mate. And my spy,” I said too quietly. “And she is the High Lady of the Night Court.” “What?” Mor whispered. I caressed a mental finger down that bond now hidden deep, deep within us, and said, “If they had removed her other glove, they would have seen a second tattoo on her right arm. The twin to the other. Inked last night, when we crept out, found a priestess, and I swore her in as my High Lady.”

And so Tamlin unwittingly led the High Lady of the Night Court into the heart of his territory.