Kingdom of Ash

Aedion frowned at the dark stain on the stones.
“We’re putting a rug over it,” Aelin told him.
Lysandra laughed. “Something tacky, I hope.”
“I’m thinking pink and purple. Embroidered with flowers. Just what Erawan would have loved.”
The Fae males gaped at them, Ren blinking. Elide ducked her head as she chuckled.
Rowan snorted again. “At least this court won’t be boring.”
Aelin put a hand on her chest, the portrait of outrage. “You were honestly worried it would be?”
“Gods help us,” Lorcan grumbled. Elide elbowed him

Elide saw the sorrow on her face before she reached her. The dullness and pain in the golden eyes.
She went still. “Who?”
Manon’s throat bobbed. “All.”
All of the Thirteen. All those fierce, brilliant witches. Gone

He scanned the skies beyond her for the Thirteen, for Asterin Blackbeak, undoubtedly roaring her victory to the stars.
Manon said quietly, “You will not find them. In this sky, or any other.”
His heart strained as he understood. As the loss of those twelve fierce, brilliant lives carved another hole within him. One he would not forget, one he would honor.

Elide laughed, smacking his shoulder. And then laughed again, louder.
Lorcan set her down. “What?”
Elide’s mouth bobbed as she tried to stop her laughing. “It’s just … I’m Lady of Perranth. If you marry me, you will take my family name.”
He blinked.
Elide laughed again. “Lord Lorcan Lochan?”
It sounded just as ridiculous coming out.

I wiped it away from existence. Yet he only remembered it once. Only once. The first time he beheld you.
Tears slid down Dorian’s face at that unbearable truth

afraid. And there are no gods left to help you now, Aelin Galathynius.”
Aelin smiled, and Goldryn burned brighter. “I am a god.”
She unleashed herself upon them

Fenrys fought the bile that rose in his throat. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry, but would you change it? Was I the sacrifice you were willing to make in order to get what you wanted?”

Aelin only looked to Lorcan. “Anything to say?”
Lorcan smiled grimly, surveying the Fae and wolf-riders wreaking havoc on the spiders. “Long live the queen.” The Faerie Queen of the West

“You could just marry each other,” Yrene said, and Dorian whipped his head to her, incredulous. “It’d make it easier for you both, so you don’t need to pretend.”
Chaol gaped at his wife.
Yrene shrugged. “And be a strong alliance for our two kingdoms.”

Manon asked, “What is it that you want?”
You, he almost said. All of you