Category: faerie
Quotes of Category: faerie
Tam would gut me if he caught you drinking that.""Always looking after your best interests," I said, and pointedly chugged the contents of the glass.It was like a million fireworks exploding inside me, filling my veins with starlight. I laughed aloud, and Lucien groaned."Human fool," he hissed. But his glamour had been ripped away. His auburn hair burned like hot metal, and his russet eye smoldered like a bottomless forge. That was what I would capture next."I'm going to paint you," I said, and giggled-actually giggled-as the words popped out."Cauldron boil and fry me," he muttered, and I laughed again. book-quotedrunkfaeriefeyreWait," I repeated.
The darkness vanished, leaving Rhysand in his solid form as he grinned. "Yes?"
I raised my chin as high as I could manage. "Just two weeks?"
"Just two weeks," he purred, and knelt before me. "Two teensy, tiny weeks with me every month is all I ask."
"Why? And what are to … to be the terms?" I said, fighting past the dizziness.
"Ah," he said, adjusting the lapel of his obsidian tunic. "If I told you those things, there'd be no fun in it, would there?"
I looked at my ruined arm. Lucien might never come, might decide I wasn't worth risking his life any further, not now that he'd been punished for it. And if Amarantha's healers cut off my arm …
Nesta would have done the same for me, for Elain. And Tamlin had done so much for me, for my family; even if he had lied about the Treaty, about sparing me from its terms, he'd still saved my life that day against the naga, and saved it again by sending me away from the manor.
I couldn't think entirely of the enormity of what I was about to give-or else I might refuse again. I met Rhysand's gaze. "Five days."
"You're going to bargain?" Rhysand laughed under his breath. "Ten days."
I held his stare with all my strength. "A week."
Rhysand was silent for a long moment, his eyes traveling across my body and my face before he murmured: "A week it is."
"Then it's a deal book-quotepricedealfaerieIs this necessary?" I said, gesturing to the paint and clothing."Of course," he said coolly. "How else would I know if anyone touches you?"He approached, and I braced myself as he ran a finger along my shoulder, smearing the paint. As soon as his finger left my skin, the paint fixed itself, returning the design to its original form. "The dress itself won't mar it, and neither will your movements," he said, his face close to mine. His teeth were far too near to my throat. "And I'll remember precisely where my hands have been. But if anyone else touches you-let's say a certain High Lord who enjoys springtime-I'll know." He flicked my nose. "And, Feyre," he added, his voice a caressing murmur, "I don't like my belongings tampered with. book-quotepainttouchfaerie
