The Assassin's Blade

Because I’d pick you.”
And then she kissed him.

“My name is Celaena Sardothien, and I will not be afraid.”

second-in-command. Celaena knew ve

When she awoke every morning, she repeated the same words: I will not be afraid. For a year, those words had meant the difference between breaking and bending; they had kept her from shattering in the darkness of the mines.

“My name is Celaena Sardothien,” she whispered, “and I will not be afraid.”

She would tuck Sam into her heart, a bright light for her to take out whenever things were darkest. And then she would remember how it had felt to be loved, when the world had held nothing but possibility. No matter what they did to her, they could never take that away.

She would not break.

And someday … someday, even if it took her until her last breath, she’d find out who had done this to her. To Sam.

She’d never be ready for this, for Endovier and the world without Sam.

And there—standing in a copse of thorns—was a white stag.

“Because I don’t like sharing my belongings.”

“Why did you do it?”