“
Not a scream of rage, but of pure terror. His body distilled at that scream, as if it were no more than the knife in his hand, a weapon to be used to eliminate and destroy any threats to her, to kill and kill and not stop until every last enemy was dead or bleeding. Her door was open, and light blazed from within. Silvery, cold light. “Cassian,” Az warned, but Cassian pushed himself faster, running as swiftly as he ever had in his life. He slammed into the archway of her door, rebounding off it and into the room, and came up short at what he beheld. Nesta lay in her bed, body arched. Bathed in silver fire. She was screaming, hands ripping at the sheets, and that fire burned and burned without destroying the blankets, the room. Burned and writhed, as if devouring her. “Holy gods,” Azriel breathed. The fire radiated cold. Cassian had never heard of such a power amongst the High Fae. Fire, yes—but fire with warmth. Not this icy, terrible twin. Nesta arched again, sobbing through her teeth.
”
”
Sarah J. Maas (A Court of Silver Flames (A Court of Thorns and Roses, #4))