And I wondered if love was too weak a word for what he felt, what he’d done for me. For what I felt for him.

I love you,’ he whispered, and kissed my brow. ‘Thorns and all.

The Court of Dreams.The people who knew that there was a price, and one worth paying, for that dream. The bastard- born warriors, the Illyrian half breed, the monster trapped in a beautiful body, the dreamer born into a court of nightmares...And the huntress with an artist's soul.

I threw myself into that fire, threw myself into it, into him, and let myself burn.

I love you," I said, and stabbed him.

I'm not married,” he said softly, “because I can't stomach the idea of marrying a woman inferior to me in mind and spirit. It would mean the death of my soul.

Where is Aelin. Where is my wife?

With each day he felt the barriers melting. He let them melt. Because of her genuine laugh, because he caught her one afternoon sleeping with her face in the middle of a book, because he knew she would win.

So I’m your huntress and thief?” His hands slid down to cup the backs of my knees as he said with a roguish grin, “You are my salvation, Feyre.