September 22- June 2
Feyre survived Amarantha's clutches to return to the Spring Court—but at a steep cost. Though she now has the powers of the High Fae, her heart remains human, and it can't forget the terrible deeds she performed to save Tamlin's people.
Nor has Feyre forgotten her bargain with Rhysand, High Lord of the feared Night Court. As Feyre navigates its dark web of politics, passion, and dazzling power, a greater evil looms—and she might be key to stopping it. But only if she can harness her harrowing gifts, heal her fractured soul, and decide how she wishes to shape her future—and the future of a world torn apart
Review : I freaking loved this book so much . I hate Tamlin though he can go far far away he was totally abusive to Feyre and there going to get married and she wanted someone to stop it and then Rhys shows up yess I love Rhys he is trying to help with her power and teaching her to write and read . Tamlin is telling feyre what to fucking do and I can't stand him I wanted to punch him in the throat . He finally traps Feyre in the house and she freaks out and More takes Feyre to the night court and then Feyre meets everyone in the night court I love them all Cassian , Azriel and Amren . I love Feyre and Rhy's relationship in this book They are both very smart ass towards each other . So the guy hyburn is trying to tear down the wall of the human world WTF he's crazy and Ryhs and ferye and everyone else want peace . Feyre has been training with Cassian to fight and there were many scenes where Feyre was checking out Rhysand oh god . Feyre and Amren end up taking this book and almost drown . I hate the fucking queens in this book fucking bitches . I ship Cassian and Nesta so much they butt heads with each other a lot . I so knew Ryhs was going to be Feyre's mate Ryhs's gets shot by ash arrows and then he gets taken and Feyre fucking kills those people so badassand she needs to heal him so she traps the surial again and the surial tells Feyre Rhy's is her mate and I knew it was coming but I screamed and I'm pretty sure Surial ships Rhy's and Feyre Ha . And she's mad at Rhy's so she spends time alone and she paints and Rhy's vists her and he tells her before they met he would dream about her and she accepts being his mate and then they have wow intense sex just oh my god . So Everyone walks into this big trap with Hyburn and fucking Jurian and they shot Azriel with an ash arrow and I'm freaking out I just want everyone to be alive and fucking Tamlin shows up fucking tool and he demands Feyre come with him ughhhh hate him and then they made Feyre's sisters feye and Elain is Lucian's mate OMFG . And cassian's wings oh god so Feyre fakes that she was like under Ryhs spell . And Feyre is High lady of the night court I loved this book amazing .
To the people who look at the stars and wish, Rhys."
Rhys clinked his glass against mine. “To the stars who listen— and the dreams that are answered.”
“I fell in love with you, smartass, because you were one of us—because you weren’t afraid of me, and you decided to end your spectacular victory by throwing that piece of bone at Amarantha like a javelin. I felt Cassian’s spirit beside me in that moment, and could have sworn I heard him say, ‘If you don’t marry her, you stupid prick, I will.
When you spend so long trapped in darkness, Lucien, you find that the darkness begins to stare back.
“I was not a pet, not a doll, not an animal.
I was a survivor, and I was strong.
I would not be weak, or helpless again
I would not, could not be broken. Tamed.
She is my mate. And my spy,' I said too quietly. 'And she is the High Lady of the Night Court.'
'What?' Mor whsipered.
I caressed a mental finger down that bond now hidden deep, deep within us, and said, 'If they had removed her other glove, they would have seen a second tatoo on her right arm. The twin to the other. Inked last night, when we crept out, found a priestess, and I swore her in as my High Lady.' (...) 'Not consort, not wife. Feyre is High Lady of the Night Court.' My equal in every way; she would wear my crown, sit on a throne beside mine. Never sidelined, never designated to breeding and parties and child rearing. My queen.”
Hello, Feyre darling,” he purred.”
I was burning through books every day - stories about people and places I'd never heard of. They were perhaps the only thing that kept me from teetering into utter despair.
“Say it,” I gritted out.
“The High Lord of the Night Court is your mate.
When you lick me,” he said roughly, “I want to be alone—far away from everyone. Because when you lick me, Feyre,” he said, pressing nipping kisses to my jaw, my neck, “I’m going to let myself roar loud enough to bring down a mountain.
Aware of every breath, every movement, I sat in his lap. His hands gently braced my hips as I studied his face. “And now I want you to know, Rhysand, that I love you. I want you to know … ” His lips trembled, and I brushed away the tear that escaped down his cheek. “I want you to know,” I whispered, “that I am broken and healing, but every piece of my heart belongs to you. And I am honored—honored to be your mate.”
His arms wrapped around me and he pressed his forehead to my shoulder, his body shaking. I stroked a hand through his silken hair.
“I love you,” I said again. I hadn’t dared say the words in my head. “And I’d endure every second of it over again so I could find you. And if war comes, we’ll face it. Together. I won’t let them take me from you. And I won’t let them take you from me, either.”
Rhys looked up, his face gleaming with tears. He went still as I leaned in, kissing away one tear. Then the other. As he had once kissed away mine.
When my lips were wet and salty with them, I pulled back far enough to see his eyes. “You’re mine,” I breathed.”
Why should I bother defending myself," Nesta said with lethal cold, "to a male who is so puffed up on his own sense of importance there's barely enough space in the room for his enormous head?
“You Illyrian males are insufferable.
Rhys had just said, Good thing we make up for it with impressive wingspans.”
I moaned then, tilting my head back to give him better access. His hands clamped on my waist, then moved—one going to cup my rear, the other sliding between us.
This—this moment, when it was him and me and nothing between our bodies …
His tongue scraped the roof of my mouth as he dragged a finger down the center of me, and I gasped, my back arching. “Feyre,” he said against my lips, my name like a prayer more devout than any Ianthe had offered up to the Cauldron on that dark solstice morning.
His tongue swept my mouth again, in time to the finger that he slipped inside of me. My hips undulated, demanding more, craving the fullness of him, and his growl reverberated in my chest as he added another finger.
I moved on him. Lightning lashed through my veins, and my focus narrowed to his fingers, his mouth, his body on mine. His palm pushed against the bundle of nerves at the apex of my thighs, and I groaned his name as I shattered”
I’m surprised there aren’t more mirrors in this house, since you seem to love looking at yourself so much.