Feyre He was waiting for me an hour and a half later. As the last of the children flitted out,

Feyre The city bells chimed eleven in the morning. A month later, Ressina and I stood near the front door,

Rhysand The girls were in the training ring. Only six of them, and none looking too pleased, but they were

Feyre Two days later, I stood in the doorway of Polina’s abandoned studio. Gone were the boarded-up windows, the drooping

Morrigan She’d lied to Feyre. Sort of. She was going to the Winter Court. Just not as soon as she’d

Rhysand The sex had destroyed me. Utterly ruined me. Any lingering scrap of my soul that hadn’t already belonged to

Feyre It was three by the time the others went to bed. By the time Cassian returned, quiet and brooding,

Cassian He’d had enough. Enough of the coldness, the sharpness. Enough of the sword-straight spine and razor-sharp stare that had