Amren Quotes

“I believe everything happens for a reason. Whether it is decided by the Mother, or the Cauldron, or some sort of tapestry of Fate, I don't know. I don't really care. But I am grateful for it, whatever it is. Grateful that it brought you all into my life. If it hadn't... I might have become as awful as that prick we're going to face today. If I had not met an Illyrian warrior-in-training," he said to Cassian, "I would not have known the true depths of strength, of resilience, of honor and loyalty." Cassian's eyes gleamed bright. Rhys said to Azriel, "If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair." Azriel bowed his head in thanks.
Mor was already crying when Rhys spoke to her. "If I had not met my cousin, I would neer have learned that light can be found in even the darkest of hells. That kidness can thrive even amongst cruelty." She wiped away her teas as she nodded.
I waited for Amren to offer a retort. But she was only waiting.
Rhys bowed his head to her. "If I had not met a tiny monster who hoards jewels more fiercely than a firedrake..." A quite laugh from all of us at that. Rhys smiled softly. "My own power would have consumed me long ago."
Rhys squeezed my hand as he looked to me at last. "And if I had not met my mate..." His words failed him as silver lined his eyes.
He said down the bond, I would have waited five hundred more years for you. A thousand years. And if this was all the time we were allowed to have... The wait was worth it.
He wiped away the tears sliding down my face. "I believe that everything happened, exactly the way it had to... so I could find you." He kissed another tear away.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“Keep reaching out your hand.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“Amren put a hand above Nesta's heart. "That's the key, isn't it? To know the darkness will always remain, but how you choose to face it, handle it... that's the most important part. To not let it consume. To focus upon the good, the things that fill you with wonder." She gestured to the stars zooming past. "The struggle with that darkness is worth it, just to see such things.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“Males are horrible creatures, aren’t they?”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“So I said, "He is lucky to have all of you."
"No," she said softly—more gently than I'd ever heard. "We are lucky to have him, Feyre." I turned from the door. "I have known many High Lord," Amren continued, studying her paper. "Cruel ones, cunning ones, weak ones, powerful ones. But never one that dreamed. Not as he does."
"Dreams of what?" I breathed.
"Of peace. Of freedom. Of a world united, a world thriving, Of something better—for all of us.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“Rhys lunged against his hold, but Amren stepped to their side and hissed, 'Listen.'

Nesta whispered, 'I give it all back.' Her shoulders heaved as she wept.

Rhys began shaking his head, his power a palpable, rising wave that would destroy them all, destroy the world if it meant Feyre was no longer in it, even if he only had seconds to live beyond her, but Amren grabbed the nape of his neck. Her red nails dug into his golden skin. 'Look at the light.'

Iridescent light began flowing from Nesta's body. Into Feyre.

Nesta kept holding her sister. 'I give it back. I give it back. I give it back.'

Even Rhys stopped fighting. No one moved.

The lights glimmered down Feyre's arm. Her legs. It suffused her ashen face. Began to fill the room.

Cassian's Siphons guttered, as if sensing a power far beyond his own, beyond any of theirs.

Tendrils of light drifted between the sisters. And one, delicate and loving, flowed towards Mor. To the bundle in her arms, setting the silent babe within glowing bright as the sun.

And Nesta kept whispering, 'I give it back. I give it all back.'

The iridescence filled her, filled Feyre, filled the bundle in Mor's arms, lighting his friend's face so the shock on it was etched in stark relief.

'I give it back,' Nesta said, one more time, and Mask and Crown tumbled from her head. The light exploded, blinding and warm, a wind sweeping past them, as if gathering every shard of itself out of the room.

Ans as it faded, dark ink splashed upon Nesta's back, visible through her half-shredded shirt, as if it were a wave crashing upon the shore.

A bargain. With the Cauldron itself.

Yet Cassian could have sworn a luminescent, gentle hand prevented the light from leaving her body altogether.

Cassian didn't fight Rhys this time as he raced to the bed. To where Feyre lay, flush with colour. No more blood spilling between her legs. Feyre opened her eyes.

She blinked at Rhys, and then turned to Nesta.

'I love you, too,' Feyre whispered to her sister, and smiled. Nesta didn't stop her sob as she launched herself onto Feyre and embraced her.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“I took it upon myself to add your presents to the communal trove.'

I lifted my brows. 'Everyone gave you their gifts?'

'He's the only one who can be trusted not to snoop,' Mor explained.

I looked toward Azriel.

'Even him,' Amren said.

Azriel gave me a guilty cringe. 'Spymaster, remember?'

'We started doing it two centuries ago,' Mor went on. 'After Rhys caught Amren literally shaking a box to figure out what was inside.'

Amren clicked her tongue as I laughed. 'What they didn't see was Cassian down here ten minutes earlier, sniffing each box.'

Cassian threw her a lazy smile. 'I wasn't the one who got caught.'

I turned to Rhys. 'And somehow you're the most trustworthy one?'

Rhys looked outright offended. 'I am a High Lord, Feyre darling. Unwavering honour is built into my bones.'

Mor and I snorted.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Frost and Starlight

“You look like a cat tried to ear your face off.' She sniffed. 'And you smell like a swamp.'

'Being dragged through a bog will do that to you,' Cassian said.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“Nesta, it should not have come out as it did.'

'Did Cassian tell you that?' He'd gone to Feyre, rather than here?

'No, but I can guess as much. He didn't want to keep anything from you.'

'My issue isn't with Cassian.' Nesta levelled her stare at Amren. 'I trusted you to have my back.'

'I stopped having your back the moment you decided to use that loyalty as a shield against everyone else.'

Nesta snarled, but Feyre stepped between them, hands raised. 'This conversation ends now. Nesta, go back to the House. Amren, you...' She hesitated, as if considering the wisdom of ordering Amren around. Feyre finished carefully, 'You stay here.'

Nesta let out a low laugh. 'You are her High Lady. You don't need to cater to her. Not when she now has less power than any of you.'

Feyre's eyes blazed. 'Amren is my friend, and has been a member of this court for centuries. I offer her respect.'

'Is it respect that she offers you?' Nesta spat. 'It is respect that your mate offers you?'

Feyre went still.

Amren warned, 'Don't you say one more fucking word, Nesta Archeron.'

Feyre asked, 'What do you mean?'

And Nesta didn't care. Couldn't think around the roaring. 'Have any of them told you, their respected High lady, that the babe in your womb will kill you?'

Amren barked, 'Shut your mouth!'

But her order was confirmation enough. Face paling, Feyre whispered again, 'What do you mean?'

'The wings,' Nesta seethed. 'The boy's Illyrian wings will get stuck in your Fae body during the labour, and it will kill you both.'

Silence rippled through the room, the world.

Feyre breathed, 'Madja just said that the labour would be risky. But the Bone Carver... The son he showed me didn't have wings.' Her voice broke. 'Did he only show me what I wanted to see.'

'I don't know,' Nesta said. 'But I do know that your mate ordered everyone not to inform you of the truth.' She turned to Amren. 'Did you all vote on that, too? Did you talk about her, judge her, and deem her unworthy of the truth? What was your vote, Amren? To let Feyre die in ignorance?' Before Amren could reply, Nesta turned back to her sister. 'Didn't you question why your precious, perfect Rhysand has been a moody bastard for weeks? Because he knows you will die. He knows, and yet he still didn't tell you.'

Feyre began shaking. 'If I die...' Her gaze drifted to one of her tattooed arms. She lifted her head, eyes bright with tears as she asked Amren, 'You... all of you knew this?'

Amren threw a withering glare in Nesta's direction, but said, 'We did not wish to alarm you. Fear can be as deadly as any physical threat.'

'Rhys knew?' Tears spilled down Feyre's cheeks, smearing the paint splattered there. 'About the threat to our lives?' She peered down at herself, at the tattooed hand cradling her abdomen.

And Nesta knew then that she had not once in her life been loved by her mother as much as Feyre already loved the boy growing within her.

It broke something in Nesta- broke that rage, that roaring- seeing those tears begin to fall, the fear crumpling Feyre's paint-smeared face.

She had gone too far. She... Oh, gods.

Amren said, 'I think it is best, girl, if you speak to Rhysand about this.'

Nesta couldn't bear it- the pain and fear and love on Feyre's face as she caressed her stomach.

Amren growled at Nesta, 'I hope you're content now.'

Nesta didn't respond. Didn't know what to say or do with herself. She simply turned on her heel and ran from the apartment.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“She laughed, a sound of pure joy, and she cried more, because that joy was a miracle.

'That's a sound I never thought to hear from you, girl,' Amren said beside her.

The delicate female was regal in a gown of light grey, diamonds at her throat and wrists, her usual black bob silvered with the starlight.

Nesta wiped away her tears, smearing the stardust upon her cheeks and not caring. For a long moment, her throat worked, trying to sort through all that sought to rise from her chest. Amren just held her stare, waiting.

Nesta fell to one knee and bowed her head. 'I am sorry.'

Amren made a sound of surprise, and Nesta knew others were watching, but she didn't care. She kept her head lowered and let the words flow from her heart. 'You gave me kindness, and respect, and your time, and I treated them like garbage. You told me the truth, and I did not want to hear it. I was jealous, and scared, and too proud to admit it. But losing your friendship is a loss I can't endure.'

Amren said nothing, and Nesta lifted her head to find the female smiling, something like wonder on her face. Amren's eyes became lined with silver, a hint of how they had once been. 'I went poking about the House when we arrived an hour ago. I saw what you did to the place.'

Nesta's brow furrowed. She hadn't changed anything.

Amren grabbed Nesta under the shoulder, hauling her up. 'The House sings. I can hear it in the stone. And when I spoke to it, it answered. Granted, it gave me a pile of romance novels by the end of it, but... you caused this House to come alive, girl.'

'I didn't do anything.'

'You Made the House,' Amren said, smiling again, a slash of red and white in the glowing dark. 'When you arrived here, what did you wish for most?'

Nesta considered, watching a few stars whiz past. 'A friend. Deep down, I wanted a friend.'

'So you Made one. Your power brought the House to life with a silent wish born from loneliness and desperate need.'

'But my power only creates terrible things. The House is good,' Nesta breathed.

'Is it?'

Nesta considered. 'The darkness in the pit of the library- it's the heart of the House.'

Amren nodded. 'And where is it now?'

'It hasn't made an appearance in weeks. But it's still there. I think it's just... being managed. Maybe it's the House's knowledge that I'm aware of it, and didn't judge it, makes it easier to keep in check.'

Amren put a hand above Nesta's heart. 'That's the key, isn't it? To know the darkness will always remain, but how you choose to face it, handle it... that's the important part. To not let it consume. To focus upon the good, the things that fill you with wonder.' She gestured to the stars zooming past. 'The struggle with that darkness is worth it, just to see such things.'

But Nesta's gaze had slid from the stars- finding a familiar face in the crowd, dancing with Mor. Laughing, his head thrown back. So beautiful she had no words for it.

Amren chuckled gently. 'And worth it for that, too.'

Nesta looked back at her friend. Amren smiled, and her face became as lovely as Cassian's, as the stars arching past. 'Welcome back to the Night Court, Nesta Archeron.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“Azriel set the potatoes in the centre of the table, Cassian diving right in. Or he tried to.

One moment, his hand was spearing toward the serving spoon. The next, it was stopped. Azriel's scarred fingers wrapped around his wrist. 'Wait,' Azriel said, nothing but command in his voice.

Mor gaped wide enough that I was certain the half-chewed green beans in her mouth were going to tumble onto her plate. Amren just smirked over the rim of her wineglass.

Cassian gawped at him. 'Wait for what? Gravy?'

Azriel didn't let go. 'Wait until everyone is seated before eating.'

'Pig,' Mor supplied.

Cassian gave a pointed look to the plate of green beans, chicken, bread, and ham already half eaten on Mor's plate. But he relaxed his hand, leaning back in his chair. 'I never knew you were a stickler for manners, Az.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Frost and Starlight

“Do you know what an inconvenience it is to need to find a place to relieve myself everywhere I go?'

A fizzing noise came from Cassian's side of the table, but I clamped my lips together. Mor gripped my knee beneath the table, her body shaking with the effort of keeping her laugh reined in.

Rhys drawled to Amren. 'Shall we start building public toilets for you throughout Velaris, Amren?'

'I mean it, Rhysand,' Amren snapped. I didn't dare meet Mor's stare. Or Cassian's. One look and I'd completely dissolve. Amren waved a hand down at herself. 'I should have selected a male form. At least you can whip it out and go wherever you like without having to worry about spilling on-'

Cassian lost it. Then Mor. Then me. And even Az, chuckling faintly.

'You really don't know how to pee?' Mor roared. 'After all this time?'

Amren seethed. 'I've seen animals-'

'Tell me you know how a toilet works,' Cassian burst out, slapping a broad hand on the table. 'Tell me you know that much.'

I clapped a hand over my mouth, as if it would push the laugh back in. Across the table, Rhys's eyes were brighter than stars, his mouth a quivering line as he tried and failed to remain serious.

'I know how to sit on a toilet,' Amren growled.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Frost and Starlight

“Cassian elbowed his way past Amren, earning a hiss of warning, and began chucking presents. Mor caught hers easily, shredding the paper with as much enthusiasm as Amren. She grinned at the general. 'Thank you, darling.'

Cassian smirked. 'I know what you like.'

Mor held up-

I choked. Azriel did, too, whirling on Cassian as he did.

Cassian only winked at him as the barely there red negligee swayed between Mor's hands.

Before Azriel could undoubtedly ask what we were all thinking, Mor hummed to herself and said, 'Don't let him fool you: he couldn't think of a damn thing to get me, so he gave up and asked me outright. I gave him precise orders. For once in his life, he obeyed them.'

'The perfect warrior, through and through,' Rhys drawled.

Cassian leaned back on the couch, stretching out his long legs before him. 'Don't worry, Rhysie, I got one for you, too.'

'Shall I model it for you?”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Frost and Starlight

“Everyone tensed as he leaned in, head dipping, and kissed her.

Nesta's lips were chips of ice.

But he let their coldness sting his own, and brushed his mouth against hers. Nipped at her bottom lip until he felt it drop a fraction. He slid his tongue into that opening, and found the inside of her mouth, usually so soft and warm, crusted with hoarfrost.

Nesta didn't kiss him back, but didn't shove him away. So Cassian sent his heat into it, fusing their mouths together, his free hand bracing her hip as his Siphons nipped at her hand once more.

Her mouth opened wider, and he slid his tongue over every inch- over her frozen teeth, over the roof of her mouth. Warming, softening, freeing.

Her tongue lifted to meet his in a single stroke that cracked the ice in her mouth.

He slanted his mouth over hers, tugging her against his chest, and tasted her as he'd wanted to taste her the other night, deep and thorough and claiming. Her tongue again brushed against his, and then her body was warming, and Cassian pulled back enough to say against her lips, 'Let go, Nesta.'

He drove his mouth into hers again, daring her to unleash that cold fire upon him.

Something thunked and clinked beside them.

And when Nesta's other hand gripped her shoulder, fingers now free of stones and bones, when she arched her neck, granting him better, deeper access, he nearly shuddered with relief.

She broke the kiss first, as if sliding into her body and remembering who kissed her, where they were, who watched.

Cassian opened his eyes to find her so close that they shared breath. Normal, unclouded breath. Her eyes had returned to the blue-grey he knew so well. Stunned surprise and a little fear lit her face. As if she'd never seen him before.

'Interesting,' Amren observed, and he found the female studying the map.

Feyre gaped, though, Rhys's hand gripped tight in her own. Caution blazed on Rhys's face. On Azriel's, too.

What the hell did you do to pull her out of that? Rhys asked.

Cassian didn't really know. The only thing I could think of.

You warmed the entire room.

I didn't mean to.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“She didn't remember a time when she hadn't been angry.
...
She couldn't quell this relentless, churning anger. Couldn't stop herself from lashing out before she could be wounded.

She was no better than a rabid dog. She had been a rabid dog with Amren and Feyre. A beast, exactly like Tamlin. She hadn't even cared that she'd made it down the House stairs at last- did it count, when it was driven by fury?

Did she count- was she worth being counted?

It was the question that sent everything crumpling inside her.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“Pick on someone your own size, 'Cassian said to Amren, shoveling roast chicken into his mouth.

'I'd feel bad for the mice,' Azriel muttered.

Mor and Cassian howled...”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Frost and Starlight

“A jigsaw puzzle?'

Amren fitted a tiny piece into the section she'd been working on. 'Am I supposed to be doing something else during my Solstice holiday?”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Frost and Starlight

“Good for the mind, but bad for the posture.'

'Good thing you have Varian to exercise with.'

Amren laughed, the sound like a crow's caw. 'Good thing indeed.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Frost and Starlight

“I like your sister.'

One of the few.

Amren lifted her eyes to me as if I'd said the words aloud. 'I like her because so few do. I like her because she is not easy to be around, or to understand.'

'But?'

'But nothing,' Amren said, returning to the puzzle. 'Because I like her, I am not inclined to gossip about her current state.

'It's not gossip. I'm concerned.'' We all were. 'She is starting down a path that-'

'I will not betray her confidence.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Frost and Starlight

“It was Amren who had said, Let her dig her own grave, boy. Then offer her a hand.

I thought that's what this past year has been, he'd countered.

Keep reaching out your hand, had been Amren's only reply.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“Keep reaching out your hand was utter bullshit when the person it was extended to could bite hard enough to rip off fingers.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“The words from months ago that Nesta had tried so hard to forget swarmed from the darkest pit of her memory, each one stinging. You have become a pathetic waste of life.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“He said: Are you my sacrifice, sweet flesh? How pale and young you are. Tell me, are they resuming the sacrifices to the water once more? And when she didn't respond, the kelpie said, No gods can save you. I shall take you, little beauty, and you shall be my bride before you are my supper.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“I can't lie to her,' Cassian said, looking at Rhys. 'I can't.'

'You don't need to lie,' Amren answered. 'Simply don't volunteer the information.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“Why do you want me to turn conqueror?'

Amren shot back, 'Why do you shy from the power that is your birthright?'

'I did nothing to earn that power,' Rhys said. 'I was born with it. It is a tool to defend my people, not to attack others.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“When you hammered those blades, you imbued them- the two swords and the dagger- with your power. The Cauldron's power. They're now magic blades. And I'm not talking nice, pretty magic. I'm talking big, ancient magic that hasn't been seen in a long, long time. There are no magic weapons left. None. They were either lost or destroyed or dumped in the sea. But you just Made three of them. You created a new Dread Trove. You could create even more objects, if you wished.'

Her brows rose higher with each absurd word. 'I Made three magic weapons?'

'We don't know yet what manner of magic you have, but yes.'

She angled her head. Emerie and Gwyn halted their chatting at the water station, as if they could see or sense the shift in her. And it wasn't the fact that she'd Made these weapons that hit like a blow.

'Who is "we"?'

'What?'

'You said " We don't know what manner of magic they have." Who is "we"?'

'Rhys and Feyre and the others.'

'And how long have all of you known about this?'

He winced as he realised his error. 'I... Nesta...'

'How long?' Her voice became sharp as glass. The priestesses were watching, and she didn't care.

He did, apparently. 'This isn't the place to talk about it.'

'You're the one trying to coax a name out of me in the middle of training!' She gestured to the ring.

Her blood pounded in her ears, and Cassian's face grew pained. 'This isn't coming out the way it should. We argued about whether to tell you, but we took a vote and it went in your favour. Because we trust you. I just... hadn't gotten a chance to bring it up yet.'

'There was a possibility you wouldn't even tell me? You all sat around and judged me, and then you voted?' Something deep in her chest cracked to know that every horrible thing about her had been analyzed.

'It... Fuck.' Cassian reached for her, but she stepped back. Everyone was staring now. 'Nesta, this isn't...'

'Who. Voted. Against me.'

'Rhys and Amren.'

'It landed like a physical blow. Rhys came as no surprise. But Amren, who had always understood her more than the others; Amren who'd been unafraid of her; Amren with whom she'd quarrelled so badly... Some small part of her had hoped Amren wouldn't hate her forever.

Her head went quiet. Her body went quiet.

Cassian's eyes widened. 'Nesta-'

'I'm fine,' she said coldly. 'I don't care.'

She let him see her fortify those steel walls within her mind. Used every bit of Mind-Stilling she'd practiced with Gwyn to become calm, focused, steady. Breathing in through her nose, out through her mouth.

She made a show of rolling her shoulders, of approaching Emerie and Gwyn, whose faces bunched with concern in a way Nesta knew she didn't deserve, in a way that she knew would only day vanish, when they, too, realised what a wretch she was. When Amren told them what a pathetic waste of life she was, or they heard it from someone else, and they ceased being her friends. She wouldn't if they'd even say it to her face, or if they'd just disappear.

'Nesta,' Cassian said again. But she left the ring without looking back at him.

Emerie was on her heels instantly, trailing her down the stairs. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing,' Nesta said, her own voice foreign to her ears. 'Court business.'

'Are you all right?' Gwyn asked, a step behind Emerie.

No. She couldn't stop the roaring in her head, the cracking in her chest. 'Yes,' she lied, and didn't look back as she hit the landing and vanished down the hall.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“Amren had entirely given up on her. The debate about sending her up here had been different- Nesta knew that debate had been out of a desire to help her. She could acknowledge that now.

This debate had been out of hatred and fear of her.

The tiled rooftops became clear. Her legs were shaking. She didn't feel them.

Didn't feel anything but that molten rage as the stairs suddenly stopped and she found herself before a door.

It opened before her fingers could touch the handle. Sunlight flooded the stairwell, revealing cobblestones beyond.

Rage rippling like a storm around her, Nesta stepped back into Velaris at last.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“I suppose that loudmouthed bastard told you more than was necessary.'

'You voted against me,' she said, her cold voice belying the crack in her chest.

'You have done nothing to prove you are able to handle such a terrible power,' Amren said with equal iciness. 'On that barge, you told me as much when you walked away from any attempt at mastering it. I offered to teach you more, and you walked away.'

'I walked away because you chose my sister.' Just as Elain had done. Amren had been her friend, her ally, and yet in the end, it hadn't mattered one bit. She'd picked Feyre.

'I didn't choose anyone, you stupid girl,' Amren snapped. 'I told you that Feyre had requested you and I work together again, and you somehow twist that into me siding with her?' Nesta said nothing. 'I told them to leave you alone for months. I refused to speak about you with them. And then the moment I realised my behaviour was not helping you, that maybe your sister was right, I somehow betrayed you?'

Nesta shook. 'You know how I feel about Feyre.'

'Yes, poor Nesta, with a younger sister who loves her so dearly she's willing to do anything to get her help.'

Nesta blocked out the memory of Tamlin in his beast form, how she had wanted to rip him limb from limb. She was no better than him, in the end. 'Feyre doesn't have me.' She didn't deserve Feyre's love. Just as Tamlin hadn't.

Amren barked out a laugh. 'That you believe Feyre doesn't only proves you're unworthy of your power. Anyone that willingly blind cannot be trusted. You would be a walking nightmare with those weapons.'

'It's different now.' The words rang hollow. Was it any different? Was she any different that she'd been this summer, when she and Amren had fought on the barge, and Amren's utter disappointment in her failure to be anything had surfaced at last?

Amren smiled, as if she knew that, too. 'You can train as hard as you want, fuck Cassian as often as you want, but it isn't going to fix what's broken if you don't start reflecting.'

'Don't preach at me.. You-' She pointed at Amren, and could have sworn the female stepped out of the line of fire. Just as Tamlin had done. As if Amren also remembered that the last time Nesta had pointed at an enemy, it had ended with his severed head in her hands. A joyless laugh broke from her. 'You think I'd mark you with a death-promise?'

'You nearly did with Tamlin the other day.' So Cassian had told them all about that, too. 'But I'll say to you again what I said on that barge. I think you have powers that you still do not understand, respect, or control.'

'How dare you assume you know what is best for me?'

When Amren didn't answer, Nesta hissed, 'You were my friend.'

Amren's teeth flashed. 'Was I? I don't think you know what that word means.'

Her chest ached, as if that invisible fist had punched her once again. Steps thudded beyond the shattered door, and she braced for Cassian to come roaring in-

But it was Feyre.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“It's just Mor, you know. Amren is the only person in this court who calls me Morrigan, and that's because she's a cranky old bastard.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“I waited for the fear to hit; waited for my body to shriek to find a way to get out of this dinner, but … nothing. Maybe it’d be a mercy to be ended—

A broad hand gripped my face—gently enough not to hurt, but hard enough to make me look at him. “Don’t you ever think that,” Rhysand hissed, his eyes livid. “Not for one damned moment.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury