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"i wish all the people who claim edward only liked bella because he couldn't hear her thoughts to read chapter five." — Oct 01, 2026 09:59AM
"i wish all the people who claim edward only liked bella because he couldn't hear her thoughts to read chapter five." — Oct 01, 2026 09:59AM
“Feyre Cursebreaker,” someone whispered. Well, that was a new name.”
―
―
“I rose on surprisingly steady knees.
Felt all of them tense, Tamlin’s gaze like a brand as I walked toward the
shadowsinger, my sparkling gown hissing along the floor behind me. As I put
a tattooed hand on the hard, near-invisible curve of the shield and said,
“Come, Azriel.”
Azriel stopped.
Eris gasped for air as those scarred hands loosened. As Azriel turned his
face toward me—
The frozen rage there rooted me to the spot.
But beneath it, I could almost see the images that haunted him: the hand
Mor had yanked away, her weeping, distraught face as she had screamed at
Rhys.
And now, behind us, Mor was shaking in her chair. Pale and shaking.
I only offered my hand to Azriel. “Come sit beside me.”
Nesta had already moved her seat, and an extra chair appeared beside
mine.
I didn’t let my hand tremble as I kept it extended. And waited.
Azriel’s eyes slid to Eris, the High Lord’s son panting beneath him. And
the shadowsinger leaned down to whisper something in his ear that made Eris
blanch further.
But the shield dropped. The shadows lightened into sunshine.
Beron struck—only for his fire to bounce off a hard barrier of my own. I
lifted my gaze to the High Lord of Autumn. “That’s twice now we’ve handed
you your asses. I’d think you’d be sick of the humiliation.”
Helion laughed. But my attention returned to Azriel, who took my stilloffered hand and rose. The scars were rough against my fingers, but his skin
was like ice. Pure ice.
Mor opened her mouth to say something to Azriel, but Cassian put a hand
on her bare knee and shook his head. I led the shadowsinger to the empty
chair beside mine—then walked to the table myself to pour him a glass of
wine.
No one spoke until I offered it to him and sat down.
“They are my family,” I said at the raised brows I received for my waiting
on him. Tamlin just shook his head in disgust and finally slid that claw back
into his hand. But I met Eris’s fuming gaze, my voice as cold as Azriel’s face
as I said, “I don’t care if we are allies in this war. If you insult my friend
again, I won’t stop him the next time.”
―
Felt all of them tense, Tamlin’s gaze like a brand as I walked toward the
shadowsinger, my sparkling gown hissing along the floor behind me. As I put
a tattooed hand on the hard, near-invisible curve of the shield and said,
“Come, Azriel.”
Azriel stopped.
Eris gasped for air as those scarred hands loosened. As Azriel turned his
face toward me—
The frozen rage there rooted me to the spot.
But beneath it, I could almost see the images that haunted him: the hand
Mor had yanked away, her weeping, distraught face as she had screamed at
Rhys.
And now, behind us, Mor was shaking in her chair. Pale and shaking.
I only offered my hand to Azriel. “Come sit beside me.”
Nesta had already moved her seat, and an extra chair appeared beside
mine.
I didn’t let my hand tremble as I kept it extended. And waited.
Azriel’s eyes slid to Eris, the High Lord’s son panting beneath him. And
the shadowsinger leaned down to whisper something in his ear that made Eris
blanch further.
But the shield dropped. The shadows lightened into sunshine.
Beron struck—only for his fire to bounce off a hard barrier of my own. I
lifted my gaze to the High Lord of Autumn. “That’s twice now we’ve handed
you your asses. I’d think you’d be sick of the humiliation.”
Helion laughed. But my attention returned to Azriel, who took my stilloffered hand and rose. The scars were rough against my fingers, but his skin
was like ice. Pure ice.
Mor opened her mouth to say something to Azriel, but Cassian put a hand
on her bare knee and shook his head. I led the shadowsinger to the empty
chair beside mine—then walked to the table myself to pour him a glass of
wine.
No one spoke until I offered it to him and sat down.
“They are my family,” I said at the raised brows I received for my waiting
on him. Tamlin just shook his head in disgust and finally slid that claw back
into his hand. But I met Eris’s fuming gaze, my voice as cold as Azriel’s face
as I said, “I don’t care if we are allies in this war. If you insult my friend
again, I won’t stop him the next time.”
―
“What did you get Feyre?'
I slid my hands into my pockets. 'This and that.'
'So, nothing.'
I dragged a hand through my hair. 'Nothing. Any ideas?”
― A Court of Frost and Starlight
I slid my hands into my pockets. 'This and that.'
'So, nothing.'
I dragged a hand through my hair. 'Nothing. Any ideas?”
― A Court of Frost and Starlight
“Don't let the hard days win”
―
―
“You could honestly get Cassian a new knife and he'd kiss you for it. But Az would probably prefer no presents at all, just to avoid the attention while opening it.”
― A Court of Wings and Ruin
― A Court of Wings and Ruin
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