A Court of Wings and Ruin

“You killed them.” Not entirely a question, but I nodded. “Good.”

“I need—a toilet.” I met Rhys’s stare as he prowled in behind her, hands in his pockets. What did you do? His brows shot up. But I wordlessly pointed Nesta toward the powder room beneath the stairs, and she vanished, slamming the door behind her. Me? Rhys leaned against the bottom post of the banister. She complained that I was flying deliberately slow. So I went fast.

demarcation

“Ready to be wicked?” he purred in my ear.

Upon the orders of our ruler, we had just laid waste to twin cities, smote them wholly into rubble on the plain, and yet they fled from that rip in the world.

“What were you,” Nesta breathed, coming around Cassian to stand at his side. Amren toyed with one of her black pearl earrings. “A messenger—and soldier-assassin. For a wrathful god who ruled a young world.”

“Drakon’s people—the Seraphim—are winged. Like us, but their wings are feathered.

He turned his head to kiss my palm. “Remind me to give you a salary raise.” I choked on a cough. “For what?”
“For the sage counsel—and the other vital services you provide me.” He winked.

poked him in the ribs. Don’t provoke her. A corner of his mouth lifted—the expression full of wicked delight. Can I provoke you instead?

“I’m still figuring out what to feel.”

Night Triumphant—and the Stars Eternal.

“If you hadn’t stolen my bride away in the night, Rhysand, I would not have been forced to take such drastic measures to get her back.” I said quietly, “The sun was shining when I left you.”

“How’d you convince Thesan to give you the better view?”
“He finds my males to be prettier than yours, I think.”
“I think it’s a wing fetish.”

“I’m too old for these sorts of surprises,”

I would have waited five hundred more years for you. A thousand years. And if this was all the time we were allowed to have … The wait was worth it.