Again sighed. 'This place has been shut down for months, and yet I swear I can still hear the music floating in the air.' Rowan angled his head, studying the dark with those immortal senses. 'Perhaps the music does live on, in some form.' The thought made her eyes sting.

— Sarah J. Maas

I can't bury another friend."" You won't."" If anything ever happened to you, Rowan-""Don't" he breathed. "Don't even say it. We dealt with that enough the other night." He lifted a hand - hesitated, and then brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen across her face. His callused fingers scrapped against her cheekbone, then caressed the shell of her ear. It was foolish to even start down that road, when every other man she'd let in had left some wound, in one way or another, accidentally or not. There was nothing tender in his face. Only a predator's glittering gaze. "When we get back," he said, "remind me to prove you wrong about every thought that just went through your head." She lifted an eyebrow. "Oh?" He gave her a sly smile that made thinking impossible. Exactly what he wanted - to distract her from the horrors of tomorrow. "I'll even let you decide how I tell you: with words"- his eyes flickered once to her mouth- "or with my teeth and tongue.

— Sarah J. Maas