Her cheek against the moss, the young princess she had been - Aelin Galathynius - reached a hand for her. 'Get up', she said softly.

He looked at his friend, perhaps for the last time, and said what he had always known, from the moment they’d met, when he’d understood that the prince was his brother in soul. “I love you.

She realized that Rowan saw each of those thoughts and more as he reached into his tunic and pulled out a dagger. Her dagger. He extended it to her, it's long blade gleaming as if he'd been secretly polishing and caring for it these months.And when she grasped the dagger, it's weight lighter than she remembered, Rowan looked into her eyes, into her very core of her, and said, 'Fireheart'.

And if I asked for the moon on a string?" - Sorsha

They had survived, when so many had not. And no one ­else could understand what it was like to bear it, unless they had lost as much.

She wouldn't ask. Didn't want to know what manner of thing might crawl toward a fire.

Wrong kind of witch." - Manon Blackbeak

Aelin is alive.

There was such glittering darkness in her, an endless rift straight through her core