The Assassin and the Pirate Lord

He couldn't be dead. Not from the dagger, or those dozen pirates, or from the catapult. No, Sam couldn't be so stupid that he'd get himself killed. She'd... she'd... Well she'd kill him if he was dead.

Sam smiled, his brown eyes turning golden in the dawn. It was such a Sam look, the twinkle of mischief, the hint of exasperation, the kindness that would always, always make him a better person than she was.

Nervous?" he asked, his voice barely audible above the steady slice of his oars through the calm bay. "No," she lied. "Me too.

She'd... she'd... Well she'd kill him if he was dead.

She lifted her chin. "I've been shouting for you." Sam shrugged, sauntering over to her. "I figured you could wait a few minutes, given that I saved the day and all." His brows rose high on his ash-covered face. "Some hero." She gestured to the ruin of the tower around them. "I've never seen such sloppy work

Embracing Sam was different, somehow. Like she wanted to curl into his warmth, like for one moment, she didn't have to worry about anything or anybody.

Celaena?” Sam asked into the dark. “Should I worry about going to sleep?” She blinked, then laughed under her breath. At least Sam took her threats somewhat seriously.

Sam stared at her long enough for heat to flood her cheek, as if he could see right inside of her-see everything. The fact that he didn't turn away from whatever he saw made her blood thrum through her veins.

Maybe I'm just unable to resist how handsome he is," she said. Sam went rigid. "He's twelve years older than you." "So?" He didn't think he was serious, did he?

But he was a filthy pirate. They were Arobynn Hamel's assassin-educated, wealthy, refined. Slavery was beneath them.

Come on, Sardothien,” he said, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “If you’re done liberating slaves and destroying pirate cities, then let’s go home.