Category: feyre
Quotes of Category: feyre
But Amarantha rolled her eyes and slouched in her throne. "Shatter him, Rhysand." She flicked a hand at the High Lord of the Summer Court. "You may do what you want with the body afterward."
The High Lord of the Summer Court bowed-as if he'd been given a gift-and looked to his subject, who had gone still and calm on the floor, hugging his knees. The male faerie was ready-relieved.
Rhys slipped a hand out of his pocket, and it dangled at his side. I could have sworn phantom talons flickered there as his fingers curled slightly.
"I'm growing bored, Rhysand," Amarantha said with a sigh, again fiddling with that bone. She hadn't looked at me once, too focused on her current prey.
Rhysand's fingers curled into a fist.
The faerie male's eyes went wide-then glazed as he slumped to the side in the puddle of his own waste. Blood leaked from his nose, from his ears, pooling on the floor.
That fast-that easily, that irrevocably … he was dead.
"I said shatter his mind, not his brain," Amarantha snapped.
The crowd murmured around me, stirring. I wanted nothing more than to fade back into it-to crawl back into my cell and burn this from my mind. Tamlin hadn't flinched-not a muscle. What horrors had he witnessed in his long life if this hadn't broken that distant expression, that control?
Rhysand shrugged, his hand sliding back into his pocket. "Apologies, my queen." He turned away without being dismissed, and didn't look at me as he strode for the back of the throne room. I fell into step beside him, reining in my trembling, trying not to think about the body sprawled behind us, or about Clare-still nailed to the wall.
The crowd stayed far, far back as we walked through it. "Whore," some of them softly hissed at him, out of her earshot; "Amarantha's whore." But many offered tentative, appreciative smiles and words-"Good that you killed him; good that you killed the traitor. book-quotemindkillpunishI couldn't talk about it, about them-not yet. So I breathed "Later" and hooked my feet around his legs, drawing him closer. I placed my hands on his chest, feeling the heart beating beneath. This-I needed this right now. It wouldn't wash away what I'd done, but … I needed him near, needed to smell and taste him, remind myself that he was real-this was real.
"Later," he echoed, and leaned down to kiss me.
It was soft, tentative-nothing like the wild, hard kisses we'd shared in the hall of throne room. He brushed his lips against mine again. I didn't want apologies, didn't want sympathy or coddling. I gripped the front of his tunic, tugging him closer as I opened my mouth to him.
He let out a low growl, and the sound of it sent a wildfire blazing through me, pooling and burning in my core. I let it burn through that hole in my chest, my soul. Let it raze through the wave of black that was starting to press around me, let it consume the phantom blood I could still feel on my hands. I gave myself to that fire, to him, as his hands roved across me, unbuttoning as he went.
I pulled back, breaking the kiss to look into his face. His eyes were bright-hungry-but his hands had stopped their exploring and rested firmly on my hips. With a predator's stillness, he waited and watched as I traced the contours of his face, as I kissed every place I touched.
His ragged breathing was the only sound-and his hands soon began roaming across my back and sides, caressing and teasing and baring me to him. When my traveling fingers reached his mouth, he bit down on one, sucking it into his mouth. It didn't hurt, but the bite was hard enough for me to meet his eyes again. To realize that he was done waiting-and so was I.
He eased me onto the bed, murmuring my name against my neck, the shell of my ear, the tips of my fingers. I urged him-faster, harder. His mouth explored the curve of my breast, the inside of my thigh.
A kiss for each day we'd spent apart, a kiss for every wound and terror, a kiss for the ink etched into my flesh, and for all the days we would be together after this. Days, perhaps, that I no longer deserved. But I gave myself again to that fire, threw myself into it, into him, and let myself burn. book-quotelatepassionkissingTam would gut me if he caught you drinking that.""Always looking after your best interests," I said, and pointedly chugged the contents of the glass.It was like a million fireworks exploding inside me, filling my veins with starlight. I laughed aloud, and Lucien groaned."Human fool," he hissed. But his glamour had been ripped away. His auburn hair burned like hot metal, and his russet eye smoldered like a bottomless forge. That was what I would capture next."I'm going to paint you," I said, and giggled-actually giggled-as the words popped out."Cauldron boil and fry me," he muttered, and I laughed again. book-quotedrunkfaeriefeyreWhat?"Lucien laughed. "Yes-all those female faeries around you were females for Tamlin to pick. It's an honor to be chosen, but it's his instincts that select her.""But you were there-and other male faeries." My face burned so hot that I began sweating. That was why those three horrible faeries had been there-and they'd thought that just by my presence, I was happy to comply with their plans."Ah." Lucien chuckled. "Well, Tam's not the only one who gets to perform the rite tonight. Once he makes his choice, we're free to mingle. Though it's not the Great Rite, our own dalliances tonight will help the land, too." He shrugged off that invisible hand a second time, and his eyes fell upon the hills. "You're lucky I found you when I did, though," he said. "Because he would have smelled you, and claimed you, but it wouldn't have been Tamlin who brought you into that cave." His eyes met mine, and a chill went over me. "And I don't think you would have liked it. Tonight is not for lovemaking. book-quotepowerlovemakinginstincts