Illyrian Quotes

“My knuckles brushed one of his wings- smooth and cool like silk, but hard as stone with it stretched taut.

Fascinating, I blindly reached again... and dared to run a fingertip along some inner edge.

Rhysand shuddered, a soft groan slipping past my ear. 'That,' he said tightly, 'is very sensitive.'

I snatched my finger back, pulling away far enough to see his face. With the wind, I had to squint, and my braided hair ripped this way and that, but- he was entirely focused on the mountains around us. 'Does it tickle?'

He flicked his gaze to me, then to the snow and pine that went on forever. 'It feels like this,' he said, and leaned in so close that his lips brushed the shell of my ear as he sent a gentle breath into it. My back arched on instinct, my chin tipping up at the caress of that breath.

'Oh,' I managed to say, I felt him smile against my ear and pull away.

'If you want an Illyrian male's attention, you'd be better off grabbing him by the balls. We're trained to protect our wings at all costs. Some males attack first, ask questions later, if their wings are touched without invitation.'

'And during sex?' The question blurted out.

Rhys's face was nothing but feline amusement as he monitored the mountains. 'During sex, an Illyrian male can find completion just by having someone touch his wings in the right spot.'

My blood thrummed. Dangerous territory; more lethal than the drop below. 'Have you found that to be true?'

His eyes stripped me bare. 'I've never allowed anyone to see or touch my wings during sex. It makes you vulnerable in a way that I'm not... comfortable with.'

'Too bad,' I said, staring out too casually toward the mighty mountain that now appeared on the horizon, towering over the others. And capped, I noted, with that glimmering palace of moonstone.

'Why?' he asked warily.

I shrugged, fighting the upward tugging of my lips. 'Because I bet you could get into some interesting positions with those wings.'

Rhys loosed a barking laugh, and his nose grazed my ear. I felt him open his mouth to whisper something, but-

Something dark and fast and sleek shot for us, and he plunged down and away, swearing.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“First Cassian and Azriel appeared in the doorway. The High Lord's general and shadowsinger- and the most powerful Illyrians in history.

They were not the males I had come to know.

Clad in battle-black that hugged their muscled forms, their armour was intricate, scaled- their shoulders impossibly broader, their faces a portrait of unfeeling brutality. They reminded me, somehow, of the ebony beasts carved into the pillars they passed.

More siphons, I realised, glimmered in addition to the ones atop each of their hands. A Siphon in the centre of their chest. One on either shoulder. One on either knee.

For a moment, my knees quaked, and I understood what the camplords had feared in them. If one Siphon was what most Illyrians needed to handle their killing power... Cassian and Azriel had seven each. Seven.

The courtiers had the good sense to back away a step as Cassian and Azriel strolled through the crowd, toward the dais. Their wings gleamed, the talons at the apex sharp enough to pierce air- like they'd honed them.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“I had been pleased with how I looked, and had again selected it for myself: my hair unbound and swept off my face with a headband of braided rose gold, my sleeveless, dusky-pink chiffon gown- tight in the chest and waist- the near twin to the purple one I'd worn this morning. Feminine, soft, pretty. I hadn't felt like those things in a long, long while. Hadn't wanted to.

But here, being those things wouldn't earn me a ticket to a life of party planning. Here, I could be soft and lovely at sunset, and awaken in the morning to slide into Illyrian fighting leathers.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“No one warming your bed right now, Cassian? It must be so hard to be an Illyrian and have no thoughts in your head save for those about your favourite part.'

'You know I'm always happy to tangle in the sheets with you, Amren,' Cassian said, utterly unfazed by the silver eyes, the power radiating from her every pore. 'I know how much you enjoy Illyrian-”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“I stared at the empty space where he'd been, waiting, waiting, not letting that expression off my face until a warm, strong finger traced a line down the edge of my right wing.

It felt like- like having my ear breathed into.

I shuddered, arching as a gasp came out of me.

And then Rhys was in front of me, scanning my face, the wings behind me. 'How?'

'Shape-shifting,' I managed to say, watching the rain slide down his golden-tan face. And it was distracting enough that the talons, the wings, the rippling darkness faded, and I was left light and cold in my own skin.

Shape-shifting... at the sight of part of the history, the male I had not really let myself remember. Shape-shifting- a gift from Tamlin that I had not wanted, or needed... until now.

Rhys's eyes softened. 'That was a very convincing performance.'

'I gave him what he wanted to see,' I murmured.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“Lucien ran his one eye over me- my casual attire, then the Illyrians in their leathers, and Amren in her usual grey, and Mor in her flowing red gown, and said, 'What is the dress code?'

I shrugged, passing him the glass of wine I'd brought over. 'It's... whatever we feel like.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin