A Court of Wings and Ruin (A Court of Thorns and Roses #3) by Sarah J. Maas

I knew that—too well. And the thought of Rhys, in this war, trying to take on all that faced us … Nausea churned in my gut. “He gives orders all the time.”

“Yes. And he’s good at knowing what we excel at. But when it comes down to it …” Cassian adjusted the wrappings on his hands. “If the High Lords and Keir don’t step up, he’ll still face Hybern. And will take the brunt of it so we don’t have to.”

An unshakable, queasy sort of tightness pushed in on me. Rhys would survive—he wouldn’t dare sacrifice everything to make sure we—

Rhys would. He had with Amarantha, and he’d do it again without hesitation.

I shut it out. Shoved it down. Focused on my breathing.

Something drew Cassian’s attention behind me. And even as his body remained casual, a predatory gleam flickered in his eyes.

I didn’t need to turn to know who was standing there.

“Care to join?” Cassian purred.

Nesta said, “It doesn’t look like you’re exercising anything other than your mouths.”

I looked over my shoulder. My sister was in a dress of pale blue that turned her skin golden, her hair swept up, her back a stiff column. I scrambled to say something, to apologize, but … not in front of him. She wouldn’t want this conversation in front of Cassian.

Cassian extended a wrapped hand, his fingers curling in a come-hither motion. “Scared?”

I wisely kept my mouth shut as Nesta stepped from the open doorway into the blinding light of the courtyard. “Why should I be scared of an oversized bat who likes to throw temper tantrums?”

I choked, and Cassian shot me a warning glare, daring me to laugh. But I felt for that bond in my mind, lowering my mental shields enough to say to Rhysand, wherever he was in the city, Please come spare me from Cassian and Nesta’s bickering.

A heartbeat later, Rhys crooned, Regretting becoming High Lady?

I savored that voice—that humor. But I shoved that simmering panic down again as I countered, Is this part of my duties?

A sensual, dark laugh. Why do you think I was so desperate for a partner? I’ve had almost five centuries to deal with this alone. It’s only fair you have to endure it now.

Cassian was saying to Nesta, “Seems like you’re a little on edge, Nesta. And you left so abruptly last night … Any way I can help ease that tension?”

Please, I begged Rhys.

What will you give me?

I wasn’t sure if I could hiss down the bond between us, but from the chuckle that echoed into my mind a heartbeat later, I knew the feeling had been conveyed. I’m in a meeting with the governors of the Palaces. They might be a little pissy if I vanish. I tried not to sigh.

Nesta picked at her nails. “Amren is coming to instruct me in a few—”

Shadow rippled across the courtyard, cutting her off. And it wasn’t Rhysand who landed between us, but—

I sent another pretty face for you to admire, Rhys said. Not as beautiful as mine, of course, but a close second.

As the shadows wreathing him cleared, Azriel sized up Nesta and Cassian, then threw a vaguely sympathetic look in my direction. “I need to start our lesson early.”

A piss-poor lie, but I said, “Right. No problem at all.”

Cassian glowered at me, then Azriel. We both ignored him as I strode to the shadowsinger, unwrapping my hands as I went.

Thank you, I said down the bond.

You can make it up to me tonight.

I tried not to blush at the image Rhys sent into my head detailing precisely how I’d repay him, and slammed down my mental shields. On the other side of them, I could have sworn talon-tipped fingers trailed down the black adamant in a sensual, silent promise. I swallowed hard.

Azriel’s wings spread, dark reds and golds shining through in the bright sun, and he opened his arms to me. “The pine forest will be good—the one by the lake.”

“Why?”

“Because water is better to fall into than hard rock,” Cassian replied, crossing his arms.

My stomach clenched. But I let Azriel scoop me up, his scent of night-chilled mist and cedar wrapping around me as he flapped his wings once, stirring the dirt of the courtyard.

I caught Cassian’s narrowed gaze and grinned widely. “Good luck,” I said, and Azriel, Cauldron bless him, shot into the cloudless sky.

Neither of us missed Cassian’s barked, filthy curse, though we didn’t deign to comment.

Cassian was a general—the general of the Night Court.

Surely Nesta wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.



“I dropped Amren off at the House on my way in,” Azriel told me as we landed at the shore of a turquoise mountain lake flanked by pines and granite. “I told her to get to the training ring immediately.” A half smile. “After a few minutes, that is.”

I snorted and stretched my arms. “Poor Cassian.”

Azriel gave a huff of amusement. “Indeed.”

I shifted on my feet, small gray rocks along the shore skittering beneath my boots. “So …”

Azriel’s black hair seemed to gobble up the blinding sunlight. “In order to fly,” he said drily, “you’ll need wings.”

Right.

My face heated. I rolled and cracked my wrists. “It’s been a while since I summoned them.”