2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

the High Lord.
“My allegiance lies with the future of Prythian, with the true power in this land.” Her
fingers slid between her legs—and halted. Her gasp cleaved the room as he sent a tendril
of power blasting for her, pinning that arm to the bed—away from herself. “Do you know
what a union between us could do for Prythian, for the world?” she said, eyes devouring
him still.
“You mean yourself.”
“Our offspring could rule Prythian.”
Cruel amusement danced through him. “So you want my crown—and for me to play
stud?”
She tried to writhe her body, but his power held her. “I don’t see anyone else worthy of
the position.”
She’d be a problem—now, and later. He knew it. Kill her now, end the threat before it
began, face the wrath of the other High Priestesses, or … see what happened. “Get out of
my bed. Get out of my room. And get out of my court.”
He released his power’s grip to allow her to do so.
Ianthe’s eyes darkened, and she slithered to her feet, not bothering with her clothes,
draped over his favorite chair. Each step toward him had her generous breasts bobbing.
She stopped barely a foot away. “You have no idea what I can make you feel, High Lord.”
She reached a hand for him, right between his legs.
His power lashed around her fingers before she could grab him.
He crunched the power down, twisting.
Ianthe screamed. She tried backing away, but his power froze her in place—so much
power, so easily controlled, roiling around her, contemplating ending her existence like an
asp surveying a mouse.
Rhys leaned close to breathe into her ear, “Don’t ever touch me. Don’t ever touch
another male in my court.” His power snapped bones and tendons, and she screamed
again. “Your hand will heal,” he said, stepping back. “The next time you touch me or
anyone in my lands, you will find that the rest of you will not fare so well.”
Tears of agony ran down her face—the effect wasted by the hatred lighting her eyes.
“You will regret this,” she hissed.
He laughed softly, a lover’s laugh, and a flicker of power had her thrown onto her ass in
the hallway. Her clothes followed a heartbeat later. Then the door slammed.
Like a pair of scissors through a taut ribbon, the memory was severed, the shield behind
me fell, and I stumbled back, blinking.
“Rule one,” Rhys told me, his eyes glazed with the rage of that memory, “don’t go into
someone’s mind unless you hold the way open. A daemati might leave their minds spread