Court Of Blood And Bindings Quotes

I’d rather be your equal in danger than your toy in safety.

I’m not fully sure what you are to me. I’m not sure if I dare to figure it out. But I know you’re a first.

I leaned into that fall. I let myself plummet, into the unfathomable, bottomless depths of my heart, and trusted his arms to catch me.

And it shall come to pass that what man made shall be shattered, and the Shadow shall lie across the Pattern of Age, and the Dark One shall once more lay his hand upon the world of man. Women shall weep and men quail as the nations of the earth are rent like rotting cloth. Neither shall anything stand nor abide... Yet one shall be born to face the Shadow, born once more as he was born before and shall be born again, time without end. The Dragon shall be Reborn, and there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth at his rebirth. In sackcloth and ashes shall he clothe the people, and he shall break the world again by his coming, tearing apart all ties that bind. Like the unfettered dawn shall he blind us, and burns us, yet shall the Dragon Reborn confront the Shadow at the Last battle, and his blood shall give us the Light. Let tears flow, O ye people of the world. Weep for your salvation. -from The Karaethon Cycle: The Prophecies of the Dragon, as translated by Ellaine Marise'idin Alshinn, Chief Librarian at the Court of Arafel, in the Year of Grace 231 of the New Era, the Third Age

Have I told you you’re an arrogant prick?” “You have … And you don’t seem to mind that much.

You’ll keep your hands off me in that bed, too.” “As I was planning to.” He looked up from his writing, eyes mocking me. “Unless you change your mind of course”. “I’d rather fuck a cactus,” I informed him. “Interesting. Let me know how you like it.

Does it make me a monster?” I managed, the fears falling over my lips at last. “Wanting you?” His smile…it wasn’t a smile. It was an open wound. It was a wistful darkness that spread over his face and transformed into something hurt and haunted and utterly heart-breaking. “Does it make me innocent, wanting you?

Uncaged, undone, he was power and beautiful and death, and he was mine.

the undoubtedly majestic length of him

I make this bond to you in blood, not flowers,” he said. “Come with me and you shall be an empress with the moon for your throne and constellations to wear in your hair. Come with me and I promise you that we will always be equals.” My mouth went dry. A blood oath was no trifling undertaking. Vassals swore it to lords, priests to the gods. But husbands to wives? Unthinkable. Still, Bharata’s court had taught me one thing: the greater the offer, the greater the compromise. And I had neither dowry nor influence from Bharata, nothing to give but the jewels I wore. “You’re offering me the world, and you ask for nothing in return.” “I ask only for your trust and patience.” “Trust?” I repeated. “Trust is won in years. Not words. And I don’t know anything about you--” “I will tell you everything,” he cut in, his voice fierce. “But we must wait until the new moon. The kingdom’s close ties to the Otherworld make it dangerous grounds for the curious.” In my stories to Gauri, the new moon weakened the other realms. Starlight thinned their borders and the inhabitants lay glutted and sleepy on moonbeams. The thing is, I had always made that part up. “Why that long?” “Because that is when my realm is at its weakest,” said Amar, confirming my imagination and sending shivers across my arms. “Until then, the hold of the other realms binds me into silence.” The night before the wedding ceremony, there was no moon in the sky. I would have to wait a whole cycle. “And in the meantime, you expect me to go away with you?” “Yes,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Do you accept me?” He held out his hand to me, the cut on his palm bright and swollen. Against the glow of the bazaar, Amar’s form cut a silhouette of night. I looked past him to the glittering secrets of the Otherworld. The Night Bazaar gleamed beneath its split sky--an invitation to be more than what Bharata expected, a challenge to rise beyond the ranks of the nameless, dreamless harem women. All I needed to do was slip my hand in his. I was reaching for him before I knew it and the warmth of his hands jolted me. “I accept.

Alis coughed from the shadows of the house, and I remembered to start walking, to look toward the dais- At Tamlin. The breath knocked from me, and it was an effort to keep going down the stairs, to keep going my knees from buckling. He was resplendent in a tunic of green and gold, a crown of burnished laurel leaves gleaming on his head. He'd loosened the grip on his glamour, letting that immortal light and beauty shine through- for me. My vision narrowed on him, on my High Lord, his wide eyes glistening as I stepped onto the soft grass, white rose petals scattered down it- And Red ones. Like drops of blood amongst the white, red petals had been sprayed across the path ahead. I forced my gaze up, to Tamlin, his shoulders back, head high. So unaware of the true extent of how broken and dark I was inside. How unfit I was to be clothed in white when my hands were so filthy. Everyone else was thinking it. They had to be. Every step was too fast, propelling me toward the dais and Tamlin. And toward Ianthe, clothed in dark blue robes tonight, beaming beneath the hood and silver crown. As if I were good- as if I hadn't murdered two of their kind. I was a murderer and a liar. A cluster of red petals loomed ahead- just like the Fae youth's blood had pooled at my feet. Ten steps from the dais, at the edge of that splatter of red, I slowed. Then stopped. Everyone was watching, exactly as they had when I'd nearly died, spectators to my torment. Tamlin extended a broad hand, brows narrowing slightly. My heart beat so fast, too fast. I was going to vomit. Right over those rose petals, right over the grass and ribbons trailing into the ailse from the chairs flanking it. And between my skin and bones, something thrummed and pounded, rising and pushing, lashing through my blood- So many eyes, too many eyes, pressed on me, witness to every crime I'd committed, every humiliation- I don't know why I'd even bothered to wear gloves, why I'd let Ianthe convince me. The fading sun was too hot, the garden too hedged in. As inescapable as the vow I was about to make, binding me to him forever, shackling him to my broken and weary soul. The thing inside me was roiling now, my body shaking with the building force of it as it hunted for a way out- Forever- I would never get better, never get free of myself, of the dungeon where I'd spent three months- 'Feyre,' Tamlin said, his hand steady, as he continued to reach for mine. The sun sank past the lip of the western garden wall; shadows pooled, chilling the air. If I turned away, they'd start talking, but I couldn't make the last few steps, couldn't, couldn't, couldn't- I was going to fall apart, right there, right then- and they'd see precisely how ruined I was. Help me, help me, help me, I begged someone, anyone. Begged Lucien, standing in the front row, his metal eye fixed on me. Begged Ianthe, face serene and patient and lovely within that hood. Save me- please, save me. Get me out. End this. Tamlin took a step toward me- concern shading those eyes. I retreated a step. No. Tamlin's mouth tightened. The crowd murmured. Silk streamers laden with globes of gold faelight twinkled into life above and around us. Ianthe said smoothly. 'Come, Bride and be joined with your true love. Come, Bride, and let good triumph at last.' Good. I was not good. I was nothing, and my soul, my eternal soul was damned- I tried to get my traitorous lungs to draw air so I could voice a word. No- no. But I didn't have to say it. Thunder crackled behind me, as if two boulders have been hurled against each other. People screamed, falling back, a few vanishing outright as darkness erupted. I whirled, and through the night drifting away like smoke on a wind, I found Rhysand straightening the lapels of his black jacket. 'Hello, Feyre darkling,' he purred.

Creon stirred next to me, turning his back to me. One of his dark wings came up with the movement and settled over my blankets, a light, reassuring weight pushing me deeper into the mattress. Steadying me – grounding me.

Well,’ I admitted, ‘I suppose it’s not the most suitable kind of accommodation for kidnapping, but …’ The words died away on my lips. I wasn’t sure how to finish my argument without insulting him, which made sense, given that none of my thoughts about him had ever been very complimentary. He scribbled, Not enough blood? Another laugh fell from my lips. ‘Suppose so. I missed the torture instruments and the dangling chains at the ceiling, too.’ Will take note.

I’ll make myself useful here and do some work in advance. I’d enjoy having a free day tomorrow, after all the excitement.

I split the egg, added some of the white to the powder, and mixed it to a thick paste.

Were those dogs?

Considering how little I wanted to do with his body, it would really be better if he just didn’t acknowledge I had one at all.

He nodded. As if to commit me to his memory. As if to mark me.

Get on your hands and knees,” he ordered, his voice so low she could barely understand him. But her blood heated, and an ache that had nothing to do with how hard he’d just taken her began to build between her legs once more. So Nesta did as he bade, baring herself, still wet and gleaming with both of their releases. He snarled in satisfaction. “Beautiful.” She whimpered a bit—because beneath the praise, pure lust simmered. He growled, “Put your hands on the headboard.” Her breath began sawing out of her again, but she obeyed, already thrumming with need. Cassian rose behind her, gripping her hips. He knocked a knee against each of her own, spreading her legs wider. Callused fingertips brushed down the length of her spine, over the tattoo there, the ink binding them. He leaned to whisper in her ear, “Hold on tight.

High Lord of Summer possesses our piece, and the reigning mortal queens have the other entombed in their shining palace by the sea. Prythian’s half is guarded, protected with blood-spells keyed to Summer himself. The one belonging to the mortal queens … They were crafty, when they received their gift. They used our own kind to spell the Book, to bind it—so that if it were ever stolen, if, let’s say, a High Lord were to winnow into their castle to steal it … the Book would melt into ore and be lost. It must be freely given by a mortal queen, with no trickery, no magic involved.” A little laugh. “Such clever, lovely creatures, humans.

It looks newly polished,” she observed to Cassian, who watched from the archway. “How is that possible?” “It exists outside the bindings of time, just as the Cauldron does.” Nesta studied the carvings in the floor. They all seemed to spiral toward one point. “I think these are stars,” she breathed. “Constellations.” And like a golden sun, the Harp lay at the center of the system. “This is the Night Court,” Cassian said drily. But it felt … different from Night Court magic somehow. Nesta paused before the Harp, the wards pressing into her skin as she surveyed its golden frame and silver strings. The Harp sat atop a large rendering of an eight-pointed star. Its cardinal points stretched longer than the other four, with the Harp situated directly in the heart of the star. The hair on the back of her neck stood. She could have sworn the blood in her body reversed course. She had the creeping feeling she’d been brought here.

With not a single soul to open my heart to, how would I keep it from turning to ice in my chest?

I’d rather fuck a cactus,’ I informed him. Interesting. Let me know how you like it.

Very good, Emelin,’ I suggested helpfully. ‘Making excellent progress. I wouldn’t want to run into you in a dark alley late at night.’ His smile became a grin. Wouldn’t mind your company in dark alleys at all.

Home. Home. It had never been much, never been more than a place I couldn't wait to leave, and yet it had been safe. Easy. Familiar. And now I had been ripped out with stems and roots, and it turned out I hadn't even left a hole to be filled behind.