93 Quotes About Rowan-whitethorn

Someone's broken into the warehouse."Rowan was out of the room, armed and fully ready to shed blood before Aelin could grab her own weapons. Gods above--he moved like the wind, too.

And slowly, wobbling, a droplet of water the size of a marble rose from the surface to her cupped palm.“No wonder your sense of self-preservation is so pathetic, if that’s all the water you can conjure.” But Rowan flicked her chin, and she knew he understood what it meant, to have summoned even a droplet to her hand. To feel her mother smiling at her from realms away.

No flicker of amusement, no hint of fear. The woman could give Rowan a run for his money for sheer iciness.

He needed to sort this out—needed to get her to just look at him again, so he could try to explain that he hadn't been prepared. Having her touch the tattoo that told the story of what he'd done and how he'd lost Lyria . . . He hadn't been ready for what he felt in that moment. The desire hadn't been what shook him at all. It was just . . . Aelin had driven him insane these past few weeks, and yet he hadn't considered what it would be like to have her look at him with interest.

He himself was a beautiful weapon, forged by centuries of ruthless training and warring.

He supposed any lick of self-consciousness had been flayed from her under the whips of Endovier. Even though he'd tattooed over the bulk of the scars on her back, their ridges remained. The nightmares, too—when she'd still startle awake and light a candle to drive away the blackness they'd shoved her into, the memory of the lightless pits they'd used for punishment. His Fireheart, shut in the dark.

The people you love are just weapons used against you.

To whatever end?” she breathed. Rowan followed her, as he had his entire life, long before they had ever met, before their souls had sparked into existence. “To whatever end, Fireheart.

Thank you for the oil," he added. "My skin was a little dry.