From Now until the darkness claims us

“It was all she ever wanted: to dwell in peace, without the shadow of her past hunting her.”

Rhysand shuddered – the most human gesture I’d seen him make.

“What did you see?” I pushed.

“Jurian,” Rhys said. “He appeared exactly as Jurian looked the last time I saw him: facing Amarantha when they fought to the death.”

Cassian was sleeping in a chair beside her bed. His head was at an awkward angle, and his wings drooped onto the stone—and he was wearing only his undershorts and a blanket that looked as if someone had draped it over his lap.

She stared at him for long minutes, the unusual paleness of his face, the brows still scrunched with worry, as if he fretted for her even in his sleep. The sun gilded his dark hair and shone through his wings, bringing out the undertones of reds and golds in both. Like a knight guarding his lady. She couldn’t stop the image, sprung from the pages of her childhood books. Like a warrior-prince, with those tattoos and that muscle-bound chest. Her throat tightened unbearably, her eyes stinging.

His hazel eyes shot to hers, like he always knew precisely where she was. And they were so full of worry, of that unrelenting goodness, that she had to fight like hell to keep the tears from falling. Cassian said gently, “Hey.” She clamped down on herself. “Hello.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.” No. Though not for the reason he believed. “Good.” He groaned, stretching, first his arms and then his wings. Muscles rippled.

"You wanna talk about it?"

“No.” “That’s fine.” And that was that. But Cassian threw her a half smile, and it was so normal, so him in a way that no one else was or would ever be, that her throat tightened again. “You want breakfast?”

“These bulbs,” Elain said, pointing with a gloved hand to a cluster of purple-and-white flowers, “came all the way from the tulip fields of the continent. Father promised that next spring he’ll take me to see them. He claims that for mile after mile, there’s nothing but these flowers.” She patted the rich, dark soil.

“You should come with me,” Elain went on. “Nesta won’t go, because she says she doesn’t want to risk the sea crossing, but you and I … Oh, we’d have fun, wouldn’t we?”

Though some had sprung up on the main continent, full of art and learning and trade. Elain had once wanted to go with me. I didn’t suppose I’d ever get that chance now.

“Elain had always wanted to visit the continent to study the tulips and other famed flowers, but her imagination had stretched no further.”

“When the world was created, G-d made everything a little bit incomplete. Rather than making bread grow right out of the earth, G-d made wheat grow so that we might bake it into bread. In this way, we could become partners in completing the work of creation.”