Rhys and Feyre have a baby with violet eyes and Feyre’s facial structure. She’s got hair as dark as night, and sometimes she’ll crawl out of Amren’s room with that little tuft of hair all brushed and put into a little rubber band so that it’s like a little baby ponytail. Amren denies any association with this occurrence.

Her little bat wings drag on the floor because she can’t lift them yet, but no one’s worried about her flying skills. After all, the girl has two fearsome Illyrian warriors for uncles, another awe-inspiring warrior for a dad, and her mom is the Illyrian with the longest recorded wingspan.

Feysand teaches her how to write, and Feyre will often read her toddler’s work:

“Dada are most powerfulest High Lord. Mama is very extra prettiest mama.”

Feyre can’t help but smile. Especially when the last line reads “Uncle Cass is poo head.”

Feysand does have a stern talk with a very tearful child about “potty words”, but from then on, whenever Cass is being annoying, the Inner Circle just screams “poo head”.

One day, Rhysand goes on a journey to the borders of the Night Court to investigate a new beast that’s been terrorizing a village there. Feyre is playing with her child when suddenly, one of her tattoos begins to burn.

Her eyes widen as she screams for Mor and then runs into her room. She can’t let her daughter see what’s about to happen. Tattoos starting to burn are quite a normal occurrence; they mean that a part of a deal is about to be called in. But this tattoo, it’s different.

It’s the tattoo from the bargain Feyre and Rhys made to die together.

She sobs alone in her room as the pain grows and grows. She thought they’d have more time. She never expected it to end like this. Not like this.

Her ears pick up the sound of her daughter’s voice asking Auntie Mor why mama had to leave. Auntie Mor doesn’t know.

Feyre’s knees collapse from under her, and her back thuds against the side of her bed. She can feel Rhysand’s pain through the bond, and she can feel that tattoo burning into her skin as both of them try to resist the bargain they made so many years ago. Feyre and Rhys know that their daughter would always feel abandoned, no matter what the Inner Circle tries.

They can’t leave their baby without a mother or father.

But it’s too late to take back the choice they made so many years ago. The High Lord and Lady of Night take one final breath together, and their hearts beat in perfect synchronization one final time. And then they die together, just like they had promised.

In a room of a home of Velaris, a three-year-old begins to cry as a sudden rush of power floods her veins. The mantle has been passed on to her. It feels like stars and galaxies and night and shadows.

Vincent van Gogh

Sonder: The realization that each passerby has a life as vivid and complex as your own.

Opia: The ambiguous intensity of Looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.

Monachopsis: The subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place.

Énouement: The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future, seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self.

Vellichor: The strange wistfulness of used bookshops.

Rubatosis: The unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.

Kenopsia: The eerie, forlorn atmosphere of a place that is usually bustling with people but is now abandoned and quiet.

Mauerbauertraurigkeit: The inexplicable urge to push people away, even close friends who you really like.

Jouska: A hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head.

Chrysalism: The amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm.

Vemödalen: The frustration of photographic something amazing when thousands of identical photos already exist.

Anecdoche: A conversation in which everyone is talking, but nobody is listening

Ellipsism: A sadness that you’ll never be able to know how history will turn out.

Kuebiko: A state of exhaustion inspired by acts of senseless violence.

Lachesism: The desire to be struck by disaster – to survive a plane crash, or to lose everything in a fire.

Exulansis: The tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it.

Adronitis: Frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone.

Rückkehrunruhe: The feeling of returning home after an immersive trip only to find it fading rapidly from your awareness.

Nodus Tollens: The realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore.

Onism: The frustration of being stuck in just one body, that inhabits only one place at a time.

Liberosis: The desire to care less about things.

Altschmerz: Weariness with the same old issues that you’ve always had – the same boring flaws and anxieties that you’ve been gnawing on for years.