"My name is Celaena Sardothien," she whispered, "and I will not be afraid."

"Some things you hear with your ears. Others, you hear with your heart."

"Where is Aelin. Where is my wife?"

"Say it,” I gritted out.“The High Lord of the Night Court is your mate."

"Aelin took a step forward. One step, as if in a daze.She loosed a shuddering breath, and a small, whimpering noise came out of her - a sob. And then she was sprinting down the alley, flying as though the winds themselves pushed at her heels.She flung herself on the male, crashing into him hard enough that anyone else might have gone rocking back into the stone wall. But the male grabbed her to him, his massive arms wrapping around her tightly and lifting her up. Nesryn made to approach, but Aedion stopped her with a hand on her arm.Aelin was laughing as she cried, and the male was just holding her, his hooded head buried in her neck. As if he were breathing her in."Who is that?" Nesryn asked.Aedion smiled. "Rowan."

"So I’m your huntress and thief?” His hands slid down to cup the backs of my knees as he said with a roguish grin, “You are my salvation, Feyre."

"I'm not married,” he said softly, “because I can't stomach the idea of marrying a woman inferior to me in mind and spirit. It would mean the death of my soul."

"I love you," I said, and stabbed him."

"The Court of Dreams.The people 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 soul."

"I threw myself into that fire, threw myself into it, into him, and let myself burn."

"I love you,’ he whispered, and kissed my brow. ‘Thorns and all."

"And I wondered if love was too weak a word for what he felt, what he’d done for me. For what I felt for him."

"My name is Celaena Sardothien," she whispered, "and I will not be afraid."

"Some things you hear with your ears. Others, you hear with your heart."

"Where is Aelin. Where is my wife?"

"Say it,” I gritted out.“The High Lord of the Night Court is your mate."

"Aelin took a step forward. One step, as if in a daze.She loosed a shuddering breath, and a small, whimpering noise came out of her - a sob. And then she was sprinting down the alley, flying as though the winds themselves pushed at her heels.She flung herself on the male, crashing into him hard enough that anyone else might have gone rocking back into the stone wall. But the male grabbed her to him, his massive arms wrapping around her tightly and lifting her up. Nesryn made to approach, but Aedion stopped her with a hand on her arm.Aelin was laughing as she cried, and the male was just holding her, his hooded head buried in her neck. As if he were breathing her in."Who is that?" Nesryn asked.Aedion smiled. "Rowan."

"So I’m your huntress and thief?” His hands slid down to cup the backs of my knees as he said with a roguish grin, “You are my salvation, Feyre."

"I'm not married,” he said softly, “because I can't stomach the idea of marrying a woman inferior to me in mind and spirit. It would mean the death of my soul."

"I love you," I said, and stabbed him."

"The Court of Dreams.The people 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 soul."

"I threw myself into that fire, threw myself into it, into him, and let myself burn."