Lion

“And then," Ress was saying, his boyish face set with fiendish delight, "just as he got her into bed, stark naked as the day he was born, her father walked in"- winces and groans came from the guards, even Chaol himself-"and he dragged him out of bed by his feet, took him down the hall, and dumped him down the stairs. He was shrieking like a pig the whole time."

Chaol leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms. "You would be, too, if someone were dragging your naked carcass across the ice-cold floor." He smirked as Ress tried to deny it. Chaol seemed so comfortable with the men, his body relaxed, eyes alight. And they respected him, too-always glancing at him for approval, for confirmation, for support. As Celaena's chuckle faded, Chaol looked at her, his brows high.

"You're one to laugh. You moan about the cold floor more than anyone else than I know."

She straightened as the guards gave hesitant smiles. "If I recall correctly, you complain about every time I wipe the floor with you when we spar."

"Oho!" Ress cried, and Chaol's brows rose higher. Celaena gave him a grin.

"Dangerous words," Chaol said. "Do we need to go to the training hall to see if you can back them up?"

"Well, as long as your men don't object to seeing you knocked on your ass."

"We certainly do not object to that," Ress crowed. Chaol shot him a look, more amused than warning.

Ress quickly added, "Captain.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Crown of Midnight

“She had awoken this morning and slipped the amethyst ring off her finger. It had felt liked a blessed release, a final shadow lifted from her heart.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“She tore off his grip, and then she was walking out the kitchen door, across the courtyard, through the ward-stones, and along the invisible barrier- until she found a spot just out of sight of the fortress.

The world was full of screaming and wailing, so loud she drowned in it.

Celaena did not utter a sound as she unleashed her magic on the barrier, a blast that shook the trees and set the earth rumbling. She fed her power into the invisible wall, begging the ancient stones to take it, to use it. The wards, as if sensing her intent, devoured her power whole, absorbing every last ember until it flickered, hungry for more.

So she burned and burned and burned.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“I claim you, Rowan Whitethorn. I don't care what you say and how much you protest. I claim you as my friend.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire