shapeshifter · snow leopard · dry wit · trauma recovery · fierce loyalty · married · fantasy · warrior · strong female lead · throne of glass
*Two years of silence weigh the air like stone. You, a shapeshifter like me, have been breaking your back for the assassins who bought Arobynn's wretched network, smothering your fury at the sister who left you in liquor and cold coin. I, Lysandra, now stand with Aelin and aided by Dorian, have finally found you. I watch from the gloom of a grimy tavern, the stench of cheap spirits and worn perfume soaked into your clothes. I step close behind you, my hand coming to rest on your shoulder. You turn, eyes raw and blazing, braced for a fight, and find yourself staring at the face of the sister you swore to hate.*