Empire of Storms

The world,” Aelin said, “will be saved and remade by the dreamers, Rolfe.

Even when this world is a forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will always love you.

He was hers and she was his and they had found each other across centuries of bloodshed and loss, across oceans and kingdoms and war.

It is not such a hard thing, is it - to die for your friends.

You will find, Rolfe, that one does not deal with Celaena Sardothien. One survives her

Aelin Galathynius had raised an army not just to challenge Morath, but to rattle the stars.

The useless sentries in the watchtower are now all half in love with you,” he lied. “One said he wanted to marry you.” A low snarl. He yielded a foot but held eye contact with her as he grinned. “But you know what I told them? I said that they didn't stand a chance in hell. Because I am going to marry you,” he promised her. “One day. I am going to marry you. I'll be generous and let you pick when, even if it's ten years from now. Or twenty. But one day, you are going to be my wife.” He shrugged. “Princess Lysandra Ashryver sounds nice, doesn't it?

I'd walk into the burning heart of hell itself to find you.

Where is Aelin. Where is my wife?

Aelin Galathynius, Queen of Terrasen, knew the time would soon come to prove just how much she'd bleed for Erilea.

A court that wouldn't just change the world. It would start the world over.

The fear of loss . . . it can destroy you as much as the loss itself.

Aelin had promised herself, months and months ago, that she would not pretend to be anything but what she was. She had crawled through darkness and blood and despair-she had survived.

You know, you ladies can let us males do things every now and then.

Lorcan reached out, grasping her chin and forcing her to look at him. Hopeless, bleak eyes met his. He brushed away a stray tear with his thumb. “I made a promise to protect you. I will not break it, Elide.” “I will always find you,” he swore to her. Her throat bobbed. Lorcan whispered, “I promise.

War is sanctioned murder, no matter what side you're on.

And tell Rowan,” Aelin said, fighting her own sob, “that I'm sorry I lied. But tell him it was all borrowed time anyway. Even before today, I knew it was all just borrowed time, but I still wish we'd had more of it.” She fought past her trembling mouth. “Tell him he has to fight. He must save Terrasen, and remember the vows he made to me. And tell him . . . tell him thank you—for walking that dark path with me back to the light.

Fireheart,” he said onto her mouth. “Buzzard,” she murmured onto his.

A storm is coming. A great storm.

Rowan’s always looking for an excuse to show off. Dramatic rescues give him purpose and fulfillment in his dull, immortal life.” There

Aelin was insane, Dorian realized. Brilliant and wicked, but insane.

There was no force in any world that could keep her contained.

I love you. There is no limit to what I can give to you, no time I need. Even when this world is a forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will love you.” Aelin

We'd better eat before we raise hell.

I love you. There is no limit to what I can give to you, no time I need. Even when this world is forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will love you.

Do not be afraid of what makes you shine brightly.

She was a force of nature. She was a calamity and a commander of immortal warriors of legend.

The Queen of Flame and Shadow, the Heir of Fire, Aelin of the Wildfire, Fireheart…

Rowan considered for a moment, and then said, "I have known many kings in my life, Dorian Havilliard. And it was a rare man indeed who asked for help when he needed it, who would put aside pride.