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"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."
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"A touch of love makes everything better."
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"I see all of you, Rhys. And there is not one part that I do not love with everything I am."
"She has the most delicious thoughts about you, Tamlin, he said. "She's wondered about the feeling of your fingers on her thighs-between them, too. He chuckled. Even as he said my most private thoughts, even as I burned with outrage and shame, I trembled at the grip still on my mind. Rhysand turned to the High Lord. "I'm curious: Why did she wonder if it would feel good to have you bite her breast the way you bit her neck? "Let. Her. Go. Tamlin's face was twisted with such feral rage that it struck a different, deeper chord of terror in me. "If it's any consolation, Rhysand confided to him, "she would have been the one for you-and you might have gotten away with it. A bit late, though. She's more stubborn than you are."
"There are different kinds of darkness, Rhys said. I kept my eyes shut. "There is the darkness that frightens, the darkness that soothes, the darkness that is restful. I pictured each. "There is the darkness of lovers, and the darkness of assassins. It becomes what the bearer wishes it to be, needs it to be. It is not wholly bad or good."
"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."
"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."
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