#irial

"At that, Irial shook his head. “Understand this: if you so much as lift a hand to my king, I will bring such destruction into Faerie as would make War in all her fury seem like an infant in a snit."

“Elena knows,” Irial said. “We are to meet, and she has already told me that if I keep trying to send guards or buy her things, she will ask you to set ‘my faery arse on fire.’ I believe there was an explanation about a magnifying lens and sunlight. I seem to be an insect in this example.”

"In his Garden Street house, [Irial] was a terrifying sight to behold. Glasses, bottles, and objets d’art shattered. Walls bent and melted, and an entire set of stairs was lost in a storm of darkness."

"Irial’s eyes seemed to glimmer with flickers of black fire. The shadowy shape of wings was growing solid, stretched out on either side of the bed."

"Irial seemed to be everywhere when she was out in the city. He wasn’t precisely a guardian angel, more of a devil that stood in sight awaiting her fall."