Extraits

“Lysandra surveyed him with an approving smirk. “Much better. Much more princely and less … derelict.”

Aedion gave her a mocking bow.

Dorian stirred, a cool breeze fluttering in as if his magic awoke as well, squinted at them both, then at the clock atop the mantel. He hauled the pillow over his eyes and went back to sleep.

“Very kingly,” Aedion told him, heading for the door.

Dorian grumbled something through the pillow that Aedion chose not to hear.”

“I have no doubt the Yellowlegs will try to claim his head. Stop any one of them who dares take it.”

And perhaps put an end to Iskra as well. Accidents happened all the time in battle.”

But he’d take his time. Enjoy every moment, as he had told her to do.

Because this would be his last hunt. He had no intention of wasting each glorious moment in one go.

Manon smirked at Lorcan.

“Your claim on her, male, is at the very bottom of the list.”

Iron teeth slid out, turning that beautiful face petrifying. Lorcan didn’t let go. Manon crooned in that way that usually meant death,

“Don’t. Touch. Her.”

“You don’t give me orders, witch,” Lorcan said. “And you have no say in what is between us.”

Elide frowned at him. “You’re making it worse.”

“We like to call it ‘territorial male nonsense,’” Aelin confided. “Or ‘territorial Fae bastard’ works just as nicely.”

The Fae Prince coughed pointedly behind her.

He yielded a foot but held eye contact with her as he grinned.

“But you know what I told them? I said that they didn’t stand a chance in hell.”

Aedion lowered his voice, holding her pained, exhausted stare. “Because I am going to marry you,” he promised her. “One day. I am going to marry you. I’ll be generous and let you pick when, even if it’s ten years from now. Or twenty. But one day, you are going to be my wife.”

The Blackbeak Matron snapped, “Be done with it, Manon.”

Manon met Sorrel’s eyes, then Asterin’s. And Manon gave the Thirteen her final order.

“Run.”

Then Manon Blackbeak whirled and brought Wind-Cleaver down upon her grandmother.

"I made a promise to protect you. I will not break it, Elide."

She made to pull away, but he gripped her a little harder, keeping her eyes on him.

"I will always find you," he swore to her.

Her throat bobbed. Lorcan whispered,

"I promise."

I love you. There is no limit to what I can give to you, no time I need. Even when this world is a forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will love you.

Aelin eyed his throat, his glorious body, and the face she had once so fiercely hated. And she wondered if it were possible to love someone enough to die from it. If it were possible to love someone enough that time and distance and death were of no concern.

Rowan let out a low laugh, and said nothing else as he claimed her mouth, nudging her back against the crumbling chimney. She opened for him, and his tongue swept in, thorough, lazy.

Oh, gods-this. This was what drove her out of her mind-this fire between them.

They could burn the entire world to ashes with it. He was hers and she was his, and they had found each other across centuries of bloodshed and loss, across oceans and kingdoms and war.