Marla Bleizeffer

“I see her slipping away, bit by bit, because you shove her down when she so desperately needs someone to help her back up.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“A white-tailed hawk still flew overhead, and it swooped low to brush its star-silvered wing against her cheek in farewell before it turned back with a sharp cry.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“She yawned, and Rowan rubbed his eyes, his other hand still in hers. But he didn’t let go. And when she awoke before dawn, warm and safe and rested, Rowan was still holding her hand, clasped to his chest. Something molten rushed through her, pouring over every crack and fracture still left gaping and open. Not to hurt or mar—but to weld. To forge.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“So she steeled herself. “I have never told anyone this story. No one in the world knows it. But it's mine,” she said, blinking past the burning in her eyes, “and it's time for me to tell it.”
Rowan leaned back on the rock, bracing his palms behind him.
“Once upon a time,” she said to him, to the world, to herself, “in a land long since burned to ash, there lived a young princess who loved her kingdom . . . very much.”
And then she told him of the princess whose heart had burned with wildfire, of the mighty kingdom in the north, of its downfall and of the sacrifice of Lady Marion.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire