2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

former lover than a king with a Cauldron able to resurrect the dead?”
“Would Jurian ally with Hybern just because he thinks Miryam is dead and wants her
back?” Cassian said, bracing his arms on the table.
“He’d do it to get revenge on Drakon for winning her heart,” Rhys said. He shook his
head. “We’ll discuss this later.” And I made a note to ask him who these people were,
what their history was—to ask Rhys why he’d never hinted Under the Mountain that he
knew the man behind the eye on Amarantha’s ring. After I’d had a bath. And water. And a
nap.
But they all looked to me and Amren again—still waiting for the story. Brushing a few
grains of sand off, I let Amren launch into the tale, each word more unbelievable than the
last.
Across the table, I lifted my gaze from my clothes and found Rhys’s eyes already on
me.
I inclined my head slightly, and lowered my shield only long enough to say down the
bond: To the dreams that are answered.
A heartbeat later, a sensual caress trailed along my mental shields—a polite request. I
let it drop, let him in, and his voice filled my head. To the huntresses who remember to
reach back for those less fortunate—and water-wraiths who swim very, very fast.