#trkopal

My tags on a post about Ronan having a motorcycle: https://substanceparty.tumblr.com/post/168951556478/egglorru-ronan-lynch-dreaming-up-and-learning-to

#this except reversed #i really want ADAM on a motorcycle #he would totally justify how economical they are #both in initial purchase price and in gas mileage + maintenance #also his commute back to the barns would be faster #because he can lane split and get through gridlock #and parking is easier at a big school right? #but really he would love the look of shock and awe on ronan’s face #every time adam pulls up on his bike and flips down his kickstand #and pulls his helmet off and his hair falls into his eyes #and he’s in LEATHER and ronan cannot keep his shit together #and adam’s like your hands are petting my ass again lynch #and ronan’s not even sorry about it #and practical adam is thinking another point to the motorcycle #and jeezus #this is all i want for christmas #amen 

I even did some cost analysis on a very expensive bike (Ducati 2019 17K-30K) vs. a practical mid-sized car (Honda 2019 17K-30K). 

I ask you: which would be sexier? I think we all can agree on the Ducati. ;P

Then Maggie posted a photo of a vintage bike on Jan. 27th, 2018 and I was hyperventilating: https://substanceparty.tumblr.com/post/170197322138

All that said, I think it comes down to that fact that I grew up not only with Camaros, but also motorcycles. There wasn’t a time I can remember when we didn’t have Harley, Indian, or Triumph motorcycle parts stacked with band equipment in my living room (we didn’t have a “garage” on the “farm”, so into the living room it was stored.) Motorcycles have always just been a Thing in my life, my dad was constantly rebuilding classic bikes, so it made sense for Adam to do that too. (Of course, he probably won’t need to do that on a dream bike.) XD

I’m pretty sure my dad has more photos of motorcycles than his kids on his Facebook, but here are two classics:

Me at probably age 1.5-2?

Me at maybe 8-9, little brother probably around 3, guest appearance in the background by the Beast (1967 Camaro ragtop).

The Raven Boys:

Chapter 2:

Ronan slammed the car door — he slammed everything — before heading to the trunk.

Ronan hefted a gas can from the trunk, making little effort to keep the greasy container from contacting his clothing. Like Gansey, he wore the Aglionby uniform, but, as always, he managed to make it look as disreputable as possible. His tie was knotted with a method best described as contempt and his shirt-tails were ragged beneath the bottom of his sweater. His smile was thin and sharp. If his BMW was shark-like, it had learned how from him.

Unsympathetic, Ronan scratched at an old, brown scab beneath the five knotted leather bands he wore around his wrist. Last week, he and Adam had taken turns dragging each other on a moving dolly behind the BMW, and they both still had the marks to show it.

Ronan didn’t sound very interested, but that was part of the Ronan Lynch brand. It was impossible to tell how deep his disinterest truly was.

Ronan cast a glance back over to Gansey beside the car, doing what Gansey thought of as his smoker breath: long inhale through flared nostrils, slow exhale through parted lips.

Chapter 4:

Ronan and Declan Lynch were undeniably brothers, with the same dark brown hair and sharp nose, but Declan was solid where Ronan was brittle. Declan’s wide jaw and smile said, Vote for me while Ronan’s buzzed head and thin mouth warned that this species was poisonous.

Ronan’s expression was still incendiary.

One of Ronan’s eyebrows was raised, sharp as a razor.

Chapter 6:

The tallest of them knocked his head on the green cut-glass light hanging over the table; the others laughed generously at him. He said, Bitch. A tattoo snaked out above his collar as he swiveled to sit down. There was something hungry about all of the boys.

The one who’d hit the light was handsome and his head was shaved; a soldier in a war where the enemy was everyone else.

In the background, she caught a glimpse of Soldier Boy making a plane of his hand. It was crashing and weaving toward the table surface while Smudgy Boy gulped laughter down.

Chapter 7:

In the sickly green light of a buzzing streetlamp, Ronan had an unbreakable stance and an expression hard as granite. There was no wavering in the line of the blow; he had accepted the consequences of wherever his fist landed long before he began the punch.

Ronan didn’t even turn his head. A grim smile, more skeleton than boy, was etched onto his mouth as the brothers whirled around.

Jerking in his grip, Ronan jackrabbited his legs on the pavement. He was unbelievably strong.

Ronan twisted, all muscle and adrenaline.

"I wish," snarled Ronan. His entire body was rigid underneath Gansey’s hand. He wore his hatred like a cruel second skin.

Next to Gansey, Ronan’s hands hung open at his sides. Sometimes, after Adam had been hit, there was something remote and absent in his eyes, like his body belonged to someone else. When Ronan was hit, it was the opposite; he became so urgently present that it was as if he’d been sleeping before.

Ronan looked angry, but he was in the mood where he was going to look angry no matter what.

Chapter 9:

Ronan’s fingers were a compassionate cage around the raven’s breast.

"Well, hell, man," Ronan replied, with a savage smile, "you can’t just throw out Noah like that. "

In any case, he knew he was going to let the bird return with them to Monmouth Manufacturing, because he saw the possessive way Ronan held it.

Chapter 12:

Ronan caught Whelk’s eye and held it in an unfriendly sort of way.

Ronan kept staring at Whelk. He was good at staring. There was something about his stare that took something from the other person.

Both boys looked up at him. Gansey, polite. Ronan, hostile.

Gansey had no idea what Ronan had just said, but he was certain from Ronan’s smirk that it wasn’t entirely polite.

Chapter 15:

They filled the hallway to overflowing, somehow, the three of them, loud and male and so comfortable with one another that they allowed no one else to be comfortable with them. They were a pack of sleek animals armored with their watches and their Top-Siders and the expensive cut of their uniforms. Even the sharp boy’s tattoo, cutting up the knobs of his spine above his collar, was a weapon, somehow slicing at Blue.

Only Calla and Ronan remained standing, and they regarded each other warily.

Adam and Gansey glanced at each other. Ronan picked at the leather straps around his wrist.

It seemed right to leave Gansey for last, so Blue moved on to Ronan, though she was a little afraid of him. Something about him dripped venom, even though he hadn’t spoken. Worst of all, in Blue’s opinion, was that there was something about his antagonism that made her want to court his favor, to earn his approval. The approval of someone like him, who clearly cared for no one, seemed like it would be worth more.

To offer the deck to Ronan, Blue had to stand, because he still stood by the doorway near Calla. They looked ready to box.

When Blue fanned the cards, he scanned the women in the room and said, "I’m not taking one. Tell me something true first. "

There might have only been Ronan and Calla in the room. He was a head taller than her already, but he looked young beside her, like a lanky wildcat not yet up to weight. She was a lioness.

Ronan’s smile chilled Blue. There was something empty in it.

Chapter 16:

He found the lamp on and Ronan hunched on the bed, wearing only boxers. Six months before, Ronan had gotten the intricate black tattoo that covered most of his back and snaked up his neck, and now the monochromatic lines of it were stark in the claustrophobic lamplight, more real than anything else in the room. It was a peculiar tattoo, both vicious and lovely, and every time Gansey saw it, he saw something different in the pattern. Tonight, nestled in an inked glen of wicked, beautiful flowers, was a beak where before he’d seen a scythe.

Ronan lifted his head. As he did, the wicked flowers on his back shifted and hid behind his sharp shoulder blades. In his lap was the half-formed raven, its head tilted back, beak agape.

For several minutes, he watched the raven slurp down gray slime while Ronan cooed at her. He was not the Ronan that Gansey had grown accustomed to, but neither was he the Ronan that Gansey had first met. It was clear now that the instrument wailing from the headphones was the Irish pipes. Gansey couldn’t remember the last time Ronan had listened to Celtic music. Niall Lynch’s music. All at once, he, too, missed Ronan’s charismatic father. But more than that, he missed the Ronan that had existed when Niall Lynch had still been alive. This boy in front of him now, fragile bird in his hands, seemed like a compromise.

Ronan looked over his shoulder at him. He was sporting the five o’clock shadow that he was capable of growing at any time of the day.

"Shit, man!" Ronan said. There were three footsteps, very close together, the floor creaking like a shot, and then the shoe was snatched from Gansey’s hand. Ronan shoved him aside and brought down the shoe on the window so hard that the glass should’ve broken. After the wasp’s dry body had fallen to the floorboard, Ronan sought it out in the darkness and smashed it once more.

He turned to Ronan, who had painstakingly picked up the wasp by a broken wing, so that Gansey wouldn’t step on it.

With visible effort, Ronan pulled himself back, sorted himself out. None of the Lynch brothers liked to appear anything other than intentional, even if it was intentionally cruel.

The moonlight made a strange sculpture of Ronan’s face, a stark portrait incompletely molded by a sculptor who had forgotten to work in compassion. He did his smoker’s inhale, heavy on the intake through the nostrils, light on the exhale through his prison of teeth.

Chapter 20:

Ronan shoved himself from beneath the car and stared up at Adam. He’d let his five o’clock shadow become a multiday shadow, probably to spite Gansey’s inability to grow facial hair. Now he looked like the sort of person women would hide their purses and babies from.

Ronan smiled his lizard smile.

Ronan spit on the ground beside the BMW.

With a raised eyebrow, Ronan retrieved the phone from the roof of the BMW.

Ronan’s eyes widened. No matter what she said now, the phone call had been worth it for the genuine shock on Ronan’s face.

Chapter 21:

Ronan, the raven boy who was more raven boy than the others, was already installed in a window seat. He didn’t smile when he looked up.

With his fingers linked loosely together, elbows on his knees, Ronan leaned forward across Adam to be closer to Blue. He could be unbelievably threatening.

Chapter 23:

Beside him, Ronan was curiously muted, something about his posture defensive.

and Ronan had only his few knotted leather strands around his arm.

Ronan was staring at them, raw, as if he knew what had happened in the tree, even without attempting it himself.

Chapter 24:

"Weird-ass." This was from Ronan, but he said it as he chewed absently on one of the leather straps on his wrist, so the effect was minimized.

She barely came up to Ronan’s shoulder, but she was every bit as big as he, every bit as present.

Ronan retrieved his MP3 player from the BMW before getting into the passenger seat, and even though the Pig’s aftermarket CD player wasn’t really working, Ronan kicked the dash until a loudly obnoxious electronic track came on.

Chapter 25:

There was a flash of fangs from the passenger seat, but before Ronan truly had time to strike, they both heard Gansey call warmly, "Jane! I thought you’d never show up. Ronan is tutoring Adam in the ways of manual transmissions."

Without replying, Ronan climbed out of the car and slammed the door.

Ronan punched Gansey’s right leg down, his palm on Gansey’s knee. The engine wailed high and caught. Gansey drily thanked Ronan for his assistance.

Even Ronan seemed disquieted.

"I think," Noah replied, "you invite yourself." He was the first to step in. Ronan muttered angrily, probably because Noah — Noah — had more courage than any of them. He plunged in after him.

Ronan’s eyes darted back and forth as he scanned the text. Unexpectedly, he smirked. "It’s a joke. This first part. The Latin is pretty crappy."

The mirth had run out of Ronan’s face. He touched the words, traced the letters. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell.

"I don’t understand," Ronan said. He kept tracing and retracing the letters. He was badly shaken.

Chapter 26:

Ronan looked pained; polite was not his style.

Now Ronan looked even more pained, because this made him look ridiculous, and that was even less his style, but he tilted his head back to the treetops and said, "Loquere tu nobis?"

"They say they’ve been speaking to you already, but you haven’t been listening," Ronan said. He rubbed the back of his shaved head.

Ronan’s eyes darted to Blue. "They said they’re happy to see the psychic’s daughter."

Ronan’s expression was guarded, his feelings hidden.

"God, Gansey. If you paid attention in —" Closing his eyes, Ronan thought for a moment. "Cur non te audimus?"

"Sorry," Ronan said. He was concentrating too hard to remember to look cool or surly.

"Bling," Ronan remarked, kicking one of the tires.

Chapter 29:

Ronan was silhouetted in the doorway, one hand curled against his chest, the raven foundling hunched down between his fingers. He pulled a pair of silkily expensive headphones from his ears and looped them around his neck.

Ronan took in Gansey’s state and raised an eyebrow. "He’s out."

With a graceful shrug, Ronan slid out of his doorway and turned the knob on Noah’s door. 

"I don’t really care," Ronan said. He stroked Chainsaw’s head with a single finger and she tilted her beak up in response. It was a strange moment in a strange evening, and if it had happened the day before, it would’ve struck Adam that he rarely saw such thoughtless kindness from Ronan.

Ronan’s gaze held Gansey’s, solid.

Ronan’s posture was wound tight.

Ronan folded a hand over Chainsaw’s head until she quieted.

Ronan and Adam both glanced to Gansey at once. It seemed like there was nothing to be done or said. Even Ronan seemed subdued, his normal barbs hidden. Until they were sure what the new rules were, he, too, seemed reluctant to find out how otherworldly Noah could be when provoked.

Chapter 31:

Ronan was drinking and boorish in his room

Chapter 32:

It was Ronan, holding something under his arm. He cautiously lowered himself until he sat cross-legged beside Adam and then sighed heavily, as if he had been part of the conversation to this point and it tired him.

Ronan carefully bundled the raven into her cupped palms.

Ronan accepted the bird and stroked the feathers on the back of her head.

Ronan’s smile cut his face, but he looked kinder than Blue had ever seen him, like the raven in his hand was his heart, finally laid bare.

"Come on, Noah. A name." This was Ronan, head cocked, keen as his raven. "Who killed you?"

The raven was hunched far down into Ronan’s lap, and he held one hand over the top of her, protectively.

Chapter 35:

Ronan more than made up for Adam’s calm, though — he took up enough room for three people with his restless pacing.

"Barrington Whelk," Adam and Ronan replied in unison. They exchanged a wry look.

Chapter 36:

But Ronan, as the inventor of sly remarks, was impervious to them. His smile was ruthless in the glow from the dash.

There was quiet, and then Ronan said, "I better go feed the bird."

But he looked down at the gearshift instead, eyes unfocused. He said, "I keep thinking about what would’ve happened if Whelk had shot Gansey today."

Ronan looked away from the house, out across the black field. His hand worked on the steering wheel; something was frustrating him, but with Ronan, there was no telling if it was still Whelk or something else entirely.

"To do this," Ronan Lynch snarled, smashing his fist into the side of Robert Parrish’s face.

Grabbing Ronan’s shirt, Adam’s father propelled him back toward the double-wide. But it only took Ronan a moment to get his feet under him. His knee found Parrish’s gut. Doubled over, Adam’s father snatched a hand toward Ronan. His fingers passed harmlessly over Ronan’s shaved head. It set him back just half a second. Parrish crashed his skull into Ronan’s face.

The fight was dirty. At one point Ronan went down and Robert Parrish kicked, hard, at his face. Ronan’s forearms came up, all instinct, to protect himself. Parrish lunged in to rip them free. Ronan’s hand lashed out like a snake, dragging Parrish to the ground with him.

Chapter 39:

Ronan, still weighed down with the luggage, headed across the floor toward Noah’s room, saying "Ha. Ha. Ha" in time with his footsteps. It was the kind of laughing that came from being the only person laughing.

Ronan picked his teeth. "Me neither."

Chapter 42:

"Man, Gansey, what?" Ronan asked. He stood in the doorway to the stairwell, scrubbing his hand over the back of his head.

Chapter 44:

Without any comment, Ronan put his hands into his pockets and strode deeper into the woods.

Chapter 45:

Ronan hurled himself toward Whelk at the same moment that Whelk rose with the gun. Whelk smashed the side of it into Ronan’s jaw. Ronan’s head snapped back.

Chapter 48:

At the mouth of the access road, Ronan lounged beside his BMW with its hood ajar, acting as both roadblock and look out.

Ronan, still in the ruins, looked over his shoulder at them. In the dim light of the flashlights, the tattooed hook that edged out above his collar looked like either a claw or a finger or part of a fleur-de-lis. It was nearly as sharp as his smile.

The Dream Thieves:

Prologue:

The three brothers were nothing if not handsome copies of their father, although each flattered a different side of Niall. Declan had the same way of taking a room and shaking its hand. Matthew’s curls were netted with Niall’s charm and humor. And Ronan was everything that was left: molten eyes and a smile made for war.

Chapter 1:

and Ronan Lynch, ferocious and dark. On Ronan’s tattooed shoulder perched his pet raven, Chainsaw. Although her grip was careful, there were finely drawn lines from her claws on either side of the strap of his black muscle T.

And Ronan stood there with his hands on the controller and his gaze on the sky, not smiling, but not frowning, either. His eyes were frighteningly alive, the curve of his mouth savage and pleased.

Chapter 3:

Ronan leaned on the cracked black vinyl of the passenger-side door and chewed on the leather bands on his wrist.

Ronan shifted restlessly. The successful demonstration of the plane had left him hyper-alive. He felt like burning something to the ground. He pressed his hand directly over the air-conditioning vent to prevent heat exhaustion.

Chapter 5:

The exterior of this early-morning Ronan didn’t look at all like how he felt on the inside. Anything that didn’t impale itself on the sharp line of this sleeping boy’s cruel mouth would be tangled in the merciless hooks of his tattoo, pulled beneath his skin to drown.

He felt the cool wooden surface of the box in his hands, his ever-present leather wristbands sliding toward his palms.

Stalking to Gansey, he took the box.

Chapter 6:

Ronan's expression was petulant.

Blue pointed at Ronan, who curled a lip.

Ronan, however, was the one who had transformed the most. Though his casual position — arms crossed — remained the same, his shoulders were knotted with visible tension. Something about his eyes was ferocious and alive in the same way that they had been when he’d launched the plane in the field.

Ronan eyed the gift, one eyebrow raised in glorious disdain. Leaning back, he pulled one of the strands to reveal that it was a collection of wristbands identical to the ones he always wore.

He slapped a palm on Ronan’s shaved head and rubbed it. Ronan looked ready to bite him.

Chapter 9:

She plucked irritably at the leather bands on Ronan’s wrist, reminding him of Kavinsky’s strange gift earlier. It was not an entirely comfortable feeling to think of the other boy studying him that closely. Kavinsky had gotten the five bands precisely right, down to the tone of the leather.

Ronan rested his forehead on the topmost shelf. The metal edge snarled against his skull, but he didn’t move. At night, the longing for home was ceaseless and omniscient, an airborne contaminant.

He laid a frozen hand over her head, comforting her, though he was not comforted.

Ronan sneered at him, but his pulse heaved.

Chapter 10:

Ronan’s bedroom door burst open. Hanging on the door frame, Ronan leaned out to peer past Gansey. He was doing that thing where he looked like both the dangerous Ronan he was now and the cheerier Ronan he had been when Gansey had first met him.

“No reason. Just no reason.” Ronan slammed his door.

Chapter 12:

Today, Ronan grimly stepped through the great old doors and clawed some holy water from the font while the choir members narrowed their eyes at him.

Ronan snarled a smile at her.

He flicked holy water onto Declan’s face from his still-damp fingers. “What the hell happened to you?”

For a moment, disoriented, he had to hold in his breath. He knelt and put his head down on his arms. The image behind his eyes was the bloody tire iron beside his father’s head.

Ronan merely invested a look with as much contempt as he could muster.

Both Ronan and Declan observed this interaction with the pleased expressions of parents watching their prodigy at work.

Ronan flipped out his car keys. “I was just leaving.” He allowed Matthew to perform a brotherly handshake that they had invented four years previously, and then he advised Declan, “Stay away from burglars.”

And this was how it started: Nose up to the light. Meet the driver’s eyes. Shut off the air co to give the car a few extra horsepower. Rev the engine. Smile like danger.

Ronan smiled thinly.

In the rearview mirror, he allowed himself the slightest of smiles.

Chapter 15:

and he was the boy with the most beautifully interesting car and the most savagely handsome of friends, Ronan Lynch.

Chapter 16:

Ronan leapt out of the car and slammed the door. The thing about Ronan Lynch, Adam had discovered, was that he wouldn’t — or couldn’t — express himself with words. So every emotion had to be spelled out in some other way. A fist, a fire, a bottle. Now Cabeswater was missing and the Pig was hobbled and he needed to go have a silent shouting fit with his body. In the back window, Adam saw Ronan pick up a rock from the side of the road and hurl it into the creeper.

Afterward, he turned to Ronan, who leaned his cheek hard enough against the top of the window to make a dent in his skin.

Ronan punched the top of the Camaro and turned his back to it.

Ronan said, “Move up, move up” to Blue until she scooted the passenger seat far enough for him to clamber behind it into the backseat. He hurriedly sprawled back in the seat, throwing one jean-covered leg over the top of Adam’s and laying his head in a posture of thoughtless abandon. By the time Declan arrived at the driver’s side window, Ronan looked as if he had been asleep for days.

Ronan’s voice was slow, petulant. His eyes, though, halfhidden in the dim, warm light of the Camaro’s interior — they were terrible. “I haven’t forgotten. ”

Chapter 17:

He floated above himself. The boy below him was locked in an unseeable battle, every vein standing on his arms and neck.

Chapter 18:

Ronan stood in the center of the room with his back to them. This Ronan Lynch was not the one that Gansey had first met. That Ronan, he thought, would’ve been intrigued but wary of the young man standing in the motes of dust. Ronan’s close-shaved head was bowed, but everything else about his posture suggested vigilance, distrust. His wicked tattoo hooked out from behind his black muscle T. This Ronan Lynch was a dangerous and hollowed-out creature. He was a snare for you to step your foot in.

Ronan’s posture didn’t alter at the sound of Gansey’s voice, and Gansey saw now that it was because he was already wound to the utmost. A muscle stood out on his neck. He was an animal poised for flight.

When Ronan turned, his eyes were shuttered and barred. His hands were also coated in blood.

Ronan allowed the weight of his blue-eyed gaze to rest heavily on Gansey, making him understand that he wasn’t getting another answer.

Ronan watched Gansey over the body of the creature — it seemed even larger in its death — and his expression was as unguarded as Gansey had ever seen it. He was being made to understand that this, all of it, was a confession. A look into who Ronan really had been the entire time he had known him.

Ronan’s smile was sharp and hooked as one of the creature’s claws.

Chapter 19:

Ronan flashed his teeth at her.

Chapter 21:

The annoying thing about Ronan was always that he was angry when everyone else was calm and calm when everyone else was angry.

He rolled his eyes luxuriously at her. It was like he merely absorbed her anger, saving it all up for when he needed it for himself.

There was nothing particularly sympathetic about Ronan just then, handsome mouth drawing a cruel line, eerie tattoo creeping out the collar of his black T-shirt, raven pressed against the side of his shaved head. It was hard to remember the Ronan who’d pressed that tiny mouse to his cheek back at the Barns.

Chapter 22:

Ronan hunched above him on the edge of the battered picnic table.

Ronan took one of Matthew’s potato chips and gave it to Chainsaw, who mutilated it on the table’s surface, more for the sound than the taste. On the sidewalk, a lady pushing a baby carriage gave him a dirty look for either sitting on top of the table or for looking disreputable while trafficking with carrion birds. Ronan reflected her look back at her after adding a few more degrees of shittiness to it.

Chapter 23:

He was clearly related to Declan: same nose, same dark eyebrows, same phenomenal teeth. But there was a carefully cultivated sense of danger to this Lynch brother. This was not a rattlesnake hidden in the grass, but a deadly coral snake striped with warning colors. Everything about him was a warning: If this snake bit you, you had no one to blame but yourself.

Ronan opened the driver’s side door of the charcoal BMW hard enough that the car shook, then he threw himself in hard enough that the car kept shaking, and then he slammed the door hard enough that the car shook yet more. And then he left with enough speed to make the tires squeal.

Chapter 24:

“Godforsaken puddle,” Ronan corrected from beside Gansey. As a pale-skinned, dark-haired Celtic sort, he didn’t care for the heat.

“Recourse,” echoed Ronan, but without real force. The water reflected the sun at his face from beneath, rendering him a translucent and fretful god.

Ronan aggressively jerked a cable on the back of the laptop.

Ronan began to laugh, and it was so unexpected that the spell was broken. He laughed as Chainsaw hurled herself into the air to circle where Blue had gone in, and he laughed as Orla let out a honking sound and cannonballed into the water. He laughed as the image on the laptop distorted with the rollicking water. He laughed as he stretched out his arm for Chainsaw to return to him, and then he sealed his lips with an expression that indicated he still found them all hilarious on the inside.

Chapter 27:

By way of reply, Ronan clasped one hand round Kavinsky’s throat and the other around his shoulder, and hurdled him tidily over the hood of the Mitsubishi. For punctuation, he rejoined him on the opposite side and slammed his fist into Kavinsky’s nose.

As Kavinsky climbed back up, Ronan showed him his bloody knuckles. “Here’s your substance. ”

Chapter 29:

He had gotten the spreading, intricate tattoo only months before, a little to irritate Declan, a little to see if it was really as bad as everyone said, and definitely so everyone who glimpsed the hooks of it had fair warning. It was full of things from his head, beaks and claws and flowers and vines stuffed into screaming mouths.

And when he fell asleep, he dreamt of the tattoo. Ordinarily, Ronan only saw bits and pieces of it; he had not seen the full design since he’d gotten it. But tonight he saw the tattoo itself, from behind, as if he was outside of his own body, as if it was apart from his body. It was more complicated than he remembered. The road to the Barns was threaded through it, and Chainsaw peered out from a thicket of thorns.

Chapter 32:

Ronan put a fist to his forehead.

Chapter 34:

Ronan rolled his wrist to flip his middle finger at Kavinsky. Muscle memory.

Chapter 35:

Ronan scraped a hand over the back of his head. He felt like his heart was collapsing inside him.

He watched as Ronan pushed off, pacing, hands behind his head, eyes darting down the road to see if any other cars were coming.

Chapter 37:

Ronan’s hands fisted.

Chapter 43:

His unflinching gaze was his second finest weapon, after his silence.

Chapter 44:

Ronan merely leveled his heaviest gaze.

“This,” Ronan said, pressing his hands flat against the warm metal of the car, “is a very shitty goldfish.”

He ran his hand across the elegant line of the roof.

Ronan’s smile was sharp as a knife.

Chapter 47:

Ronan leapt from the car.

And this, too, was bewildering. Because he was grinning. Euphoric. It wasn’t that Gansey hadn’t seen Ronan happy since Niall Lynch died. It was just that there had always been something cruel and conditional about it.

Not this Ronan.

He seized Gansey’s arm. “Look at it, man! Look at it!”

He released Gansey’s arm, but only to punch it. “I’m sorry, man. It was a shitty thing for me to do.”

“I said,” Ronan said, and now he grabbed Gansey’s shoulders, both of them, and shook them theatrically,

Ronan, however, was in no mood for introspection, his or anyone else’s. He ripped Gansey’s hands from his face. “Sit in it! Tell me it’s any different!”

He pushed Gansey down into the driver’s seat and draped Gansey’s lifeless arms over the steering wheel. He considered the image before him as if analyzing a museum piece. Then he reached in over the steering wheel and snatched a pair of sunglasses that were sitting on the dash. White, plastic, lenses dark as hell. Joseph Kavinsky’s — or maybe a copy. Who was to say what was real anymore? Ronan put the white sunglasses onto Gansey’s face and regarded him once more. His face went somber for half a second, and then it dissolved into an absolutely wonderful and fearless laugh. The old Ronan Lynch’s laugh. No, it was better than that one, because this new one had just a hint of darkness beneath it. This Ronan knew there was crap in the world, but he was laughing anyway.

Ronan shielded his eyes. “Me. Well, Kavinsky, actually. We’re taking all the energy from the line when we dream.”

“How was your party, man?” Ronan asked, kicking Gansey’s knee through the open door.

Chapter 52:

She didn’t generally enjoy petting, but she turned her head left and right as Ronan softly traced the small feathers on either side of her beak.

Chapter 53:

Ronan, chewing his leather bracelets, dropped them from his teeth and said, “There is no coming to terms with having three balls.”

Chapter 54:

He smiled nastily at her. She smiled nastily back. Both smiles said, I’ve got your number.

When Ronan didn’t flinch — the Gray Man couldn’t know that Ronan would rather do most anything than flinch — he continued,

Ronan still didn’t flinch.

For one moment, Ronan didn’t move. It took him that long to realize that the Gray Man was saying he had killed Niall Lynch. Ronan’s mind went perfectly blank. Then he did what had to be done: He hurled himself at the Gray Man.

Ronan slammed into the Gray Man’s stomach. He somehow managed to include several swear words in the blow.

Ronan slammed one fist into one of the Gray Man’s kneecaps and the other tidily into his crotch.

Ronan heaved himself up.

Chapter 59

He looked over his shoulder, elegant and dangerous, and raised an eyebrow at the middle-aged man sitting behind him. He waited. The man dropped his eyes.

Ronan put a finger to his lips. A smile snaked out on either side of it.

He put the car in gear and headed out of the smoldering downtown. He steered with his knee. Called again. Voicemail.

Ronan turned the key, threw down the parking brake.

Chapter 60

Ronan exploded in behind him, and if she hadn’t been able to tell from Gansey, she would’ve known it from Ronan. He was wild-eyed as a trapped animal. When he stopped, he rested his hand on the doorjamb and his fingers crawled up it.

Ronan glared at one of the speakers. It was playing something Blue thought was called “yacht rock.” He was more wound up by the moment. People were dragging their younger kids out of his way.

And then Ronan flicked the pill out of the girl’s hand onto the ground. She spit in his face and stalked off.

“That’s him,” Ronan said, already shoving his way through the teens.

Ronan grabbed Kavinsky’s throat, and for once, Blue wasn’t displeased.

Chapter 62

“Okay,” he snarled, grabbing Kavinsky’s arm, “We’re done. Where is my brother? No more. Where is he?”

He just held Matthew tightly, unwilling to let him go yet.

Blue Lily Lily Blue:

Chapter 1:

If everything around Gansey was soft-edged and organic, faded and homogenous, Ronan was sharp and dark and dissonant, standing out in stark relief from the woods.

Rising, Ronan went to stand starkly beside his mother and brother; Matthew, who had been waving his arms like a performing bear, stilled. Aurora petted Ronan’s hand, which Ronan permitted.

Ronan put his hands on either side of Matthew’s head, crushing the blond curls down, locking his brother’s gaze on his.

Matthew’s expression was pleasant and unafraid. His eyes were the same color blue as Ronan’s but infinitely more innocent.

Adam checked his battered watch. “My watch isn’t working.”

Ronan checked his expensive black one and shook his head.

Ronan looked as pleased as a pit viper ever could.

Ronan shook his head, but then, with a wicked smile, he began to sing, “Squash one, squash two, s—”

Chapter 3:

Ronan lounged in the passenger seat.

Chapter 9:

Adam was reading and re-reading his first-quarter schedule when Ronan hurled himself into the desk beside him.

“I can’t take it,” Ronan said.

Adam opened his eyes. “Take what?”

Take sitting, apparently. Ronan went to the whiteboard and began to write. He had furious handwriting.

Ronan’s dry-erase marker squeaked in protest as he jabbed down Latin words. Although Ronan wasn’t smiling and Adam didn’t know some of the vocabulary, Adam was certain it was a dirty joke. For a moment, he watched Ronan and tried to imagine that he was a teacher instead of a Ronan. It was impossible. Adam couldn’t decide if it was how he’d shoved up his sleeves or the apocalyptic way he had tied his tie.

Returning to his desk, he threw his feet up on it. This was forbidden, of course. He crossed his arms, tilted his chin back, closed his eyes. Instant insolence. This was the version of himself he prepared for Aglionby, for his older brother, Declan, and sometimes, for Gansey.

Ronan was always saying that he never lied, but he wore a liar’s face.

Instead, Tad turned to where Ronan was still reclined with his eyes closed.

Ronan smiled lazily. Without raising his hand, he said, “Heh. Noli prohicere maccaritas ad porcos.”

Chapter 15

He stepped out of the rain and into the shop; he had been hidden in the dark in his jacket and his dark jeans. Chainsaw clung to his shoulder.

Ronan smirked. He didn’t understand that Adam’s heart was actually going to explode.

A boot shoved Adam’s knee.

“Get up.”

Ronan prowled around the Pontiac, peering at the process inside with a disinterested lack of comprehension.

Ronan picked up a socket from the worktable on the other side of the Pontiac. He studied it in a way that suggested he contemplated its merit as a weapon.

“I’m not going to use it,” Ronan said, “to get some job with a tie —” He made a hanging motion above his neck, head tilted.

Ronan’s expression was cool over the top of the Pontiac.

Chapter 18:

Gansey’s eyes flew open just as Ronan hit the lights. He stood in the doorway, headphones looped around his neck, Chainsaw hulking like a tender thug on his shoulder.

Ronan’s chin lifted. His smile was sharp and humorless.

The smile widened and sharpened yet more.

Ronan pulled the fridge door open, shoving Gansey several inches across the floor.

Gansey tore them off as Ronan dissolved into manic laughter, which Chainsaw echoed, flapping her wings, both of them terrible and amused.

Chapter 19:

Ronan whirled and walked backward to face the shouter. He spread his arms wide. “Not now, Cheng. The king’s a little busy.”

The light that glinted off Ronan’s snarl caught Gansey’s eye, bringing him back to the present.

Ronan smirked at Adam.

He didn’t look at all Aglionby just then, with his shaved head and black biker jacket and expensive jeans. He looked altogether very grown-up. It was, Gansey thought, as if time had carried Ronan a little more swiftly than the rest of them this summer.

Ronan selected a large-caliber marker and leaned deep over the petition. He wrote ANARCHY in enormous letters and then tossed the instrument of war at Henry’s chest.

“Democracy’s a farce,” Ronan said, and Adam smirked, a private, small thing that was inherently exclusionary. An expression, in fact, that he could’ve very well learned from Ronan.

Ronan’s smile was thin and dark.

Ronan kicked a piece of gravel. It skittered across the bricks in front of them before skipping off into the grassy courtyard.

Chapter 20:

Ronan made a big showy sideways slide at the end of the drive — Adam silently reached up to hold the strap on the ceiling — and the BMW scuffed sloppily into the gravel parking area in front of the white farmhouse.

Climbing out of the car, he peered up into the branches of the plum trees beside the parking area. As always, Adam was reminded of how Ronan belonged in this place. Something about the familiar way he stood as he searched for ripe fruit implied that he had done it many times before.

Ronan found two black-purple plums that he liked. He tossed one to Adam and then jerked his chin to indicate Adam should follow.

Ronan moved through the dim expanse with ease, picking up a clock, a lantern, a bolt of strange cloth that somehow hurt Adam to look at. Ronan found a sort of ghostly light on a strap; he slung it over his shoulder to bring with him. He had already scarfed his plum.

As they moved through the old barn, Adam felt Ronan’s eyes glance off him and away, his disinterest practiced but incomplete.

Ronan dragged a metal tack box out from the wall and flipped up the lid with a terrific crash.

Adam could see it reflected in his blue eyes.

In the main room of the barn, Ronan took his time walking among the cows, pausing to look into their faces or cocking his head to observe their markings. Finally, he stopped by a chocolate-brown cow with a jagged stripe down her friendly face. He shoved her motionless side with the toe of his boot and explained, “It works better if they seem more … I don’t know. Particular. If it looks like something I might have dreamt myself.”

Ronan eyed it, but sideways, with his chin tilted away from it. He looked younger than he usually did, his face softened by uncertainty and caution. Sometimes Gansey would tell stories of the Ronan he had known before Niall had died; now, looking at this fallible Ronan, Adam thought he might be able to believe them.

Ronan’s expression sharpened. He held the dream thing beside the cow’s face. Light, or something like light, reflected off it onto Ronan’s chin and cheeks, rendering him stark and handsome and terrifying and someone else.

Ronan’s eyelashes fluttered darkly.

Ronan’s eyes were open; fires burned in them.

They regarded each other. Adam fair and cautious, Ronan dark and incendiary.

Ronan turned away, lashes low over his eyes, expression hidden, burdened by being born, not made.

Chapter 27:

and Ronan was pouring breakfast cereal from the box into his mouth

Ronan simmered.

This, finally, made it through the steel to Ronan’s heart. His head ducked.

Beside him, Ronan looked strangely hostile, Chainsaw hunched down on his shoulder.

Chapter 28:

Rolling onto her back so that she was looking straight up at Ronan’s disgusted features, she cooed, “Cut me free, raven prince.”

Ronan was still staring at the woman, aghast

Ronan held Chainsaw to his chest as if she were still a young raven, protecting her from the wind.

Ronan’s lip curled.

From the hall, Ronan shot a superior look at Gansey.

Adam and Ronan exchanged a wide-eyed look. Adam’s look said, What does that mean? and Ronan’s said, I don’t care; let’s get out of here before she changes her mind.

Chapter 29:

Ronan picked up a bottle of shampoo and tossed it in the cart Adam pushed.

“So I did, Parrish.” He continued down the aisle, shoulders square, chin tilted haughtily. He did not look like he was shopping. He looked like he was committing larceny. He swept some toothpaste into the basket. “Which toothbrush? This one looks fast.” He sent it plummeting in with the other supplies.

Ronan started to say something and then didn’t. He hurled a bottle of shave cream into the cart, but no razor. It was possible it was for him, not Gwenllian.

Ronan gripped the handle with the skittish concentration of a motorcycle racer and eyed the line between them and the BMW parked on the far side of the lot. “What do you think the grade is on this parking lot?”

With a savage smile, Ronan shoved the cart off the curb and belted toward the BMW.

Ronan lay on his back a few feet away. A box of toothpaste rested on his chest and the cart keeled beside him. He looked profoundly happy.

Ronan grinned.

Chapter 31:

Ronan crouched by the pew again, studying the list, his fingers running idly over his stubble as he thought. When he wasn’t trying to look like an asshole, his face looked very different,

Ronan flashed a cocky grin, pleased to have gotten a reaction.

But Ronan’s face held a challenge and Adam wasn’t going to back down.

He waited for Ronan to falter or wonder over Adam’s strangeness, but Ronan just straightened and rubbed his hands together. “Yeah, good. Good. Look, maybe you should go, though. To the apartment, and I’ll meet you after I’m done.”

Adam retreated to sit beside Mary as Ronan stretched out on the pew, rubbing out the dingy plan with the legs of his jeans. Something about his stillness on the pew and the funereal quality of the light reminded Adam of the effigy of Glendower they’d seen at the tomb. A king, sleeping. Adam couldn’t imagine, though, the strange, wild kingdom that Ronan might rule.

He looked up and found Ronan sitting cross-legged on the pew above them, his expression watchful. One of this Ronan’s hands was bloody, too, but it was clearly not his own blood. Something dark flickered across his face as he cast his eyes down to his dying double.

He saw at once a Ronan Lynch violently dying and a Ronan Lynch watching with cool remove. Both were true, though both should have been impossible.

He was trying not to look like he cared about watching himself die. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe this happened all the time.

Here was Ronan, dead, and ungrievable, because there was Ronan, alive and unblinking.

Ronan was quivering. Not from venom, like the other Ronan, but from some chained emotion.

Chapter 37:

Ronan climbing out of the passenger seat and knocking knuckles on the roof with teeth flashing

“Look at this,” Ronan said. With a jerk of his chin, he indicated Henry Cheng, who stood with a placard on the corner of the school green.

Ronan smirked in an unpleasant way.

Ronan’s smile was sharp. Now Gansey recognized the expression on Ronan’s face: arrogance. He had not been afraid for Adam. He had known Cabeswater would save him. Been certain of it.

Chapter 38:

Behind him was Ronan Lynch, his damn tie knotted right for once and his shirt tucked in.

Chapter 43:

We must find Maura, he thought as he climbed from the Camaro and started up the walk, Ronan dogging his steps with his hands shoved in pockets, Chainsaw flapping grimly from branch to branch to follow.

Chapter 44:

Both of the boys were unsettling

And Ronan Lynch looked like Niall Lynch, which was to say, he looked like an asshole.

They continued standing there, looking like a pair of horror movie twins, one dark, one light.

Ronan Lynch smiled then, too, and it was a weapon.

Chapter 46:

Adam and Ronan regarded each other, and then the pit. They looked winsome and brave, trusting of Cabeswater or of each other. They did not look afraid, so Blue was afraid for them.

Chapter 47:

“Ronan,” Gansey said sharply, and Ronan moved to stop her, binding her arms behind her without malice or squeamishness.

Chapter 48:

He stood as aloof as the elk, eyes wary and dark and foreign as he strode out of the dimness.

He stalked closer to her, and then he leaned to scoop up a loose rock from the ground. He tossed it underhand into the lake.

Suddenly, she felt arms around her, yanking her away from the lake’s edge. The arms around her were trembling, too, but they were iron tight, scented with sweat and moss.

For a moment they remained that way, Ronan holding her as tightly as he would hold his brother Matthew, his cheek on her shoulder.

He looked away, but not before she saw the tear he flicked from his chin.

Ronan laughed in an unfunny way. “Right, but seriously.”

He leveled a heavy gaze at her, the sort he normally used to bend Noah to his will.

Chapter 49:

She turned to find Ronan crouched down a few feet up onto dry land, arms wrapped around his knees, already waiting for the darkness to take him. When he met her eyes, he gave her an unsmiling salute before she turned back around.

The Raven King:

Chapter 3:

and crept down the stairs with his raven pressed against his chest to keep her quiet

overgrown grass lapped dew on Ronan’s boots

he shivered as he tethered his raven to the seat belt fastener in the passenger seat

Inside the farmhouse, Ronan switched on a few lamps to push the darkness outside. A few minutes’ search turned up a bucket of alphabet blocks, which he overturned for Chainsaw to sort through. Then he put on one of his father’s Bothy Band records, and as the fiddle and pipes crackled and fuzzed through the narrow hallways, he wiped dust off the shelves and repaired a broken cabinet hinge in the kitchen. As the morning sun finally spilled golden into the protected glen, he continued the process of re-staining the worn wood staircase up to his parents’ old room. He breathed in. He breathed out.

Ronan woke angry and empty-handed. He abandoned the couch to slam some cabinets around in the kitchen. The milk in the fridge had gone bad, and Matthew had eaten all of the hot dogs the last time he’d come along. Ronan raged into the thin morning light in the screen porch and tore a strange fruit off a potted tree that grew packs of chocolate-covered peanuts. As he paced fitfully, Chainsaw skittered and flapped behind him, stabbing at dark spots that she hoped were dropped peanuts.

“Brek,” said Chainsaw. Throwing a peanut at her, Ronan stalked back into the house to search for inspiration.

He pulled on muck boots and an already grubby hoodie and went outside.

and he allowed Ronan to stroke the short, coarse fur of his withers and worry some burrs out of the soft hair behind his ears.

He scattered pellets for them, too, and inspected them for wounds and ticks.

Ronan grinned at the thought, feeling suddenly silly and lazy and foolish. He stood, letting the day’s failure roll off his shoulders and fall to the ground.

Chapter 4:  

He was lying on his face in the dirt, his arms outstretched, his fingers digging down into the soil for the ley line’s energy.

He looked at her, somehow, although he was still all tangled up in his root-fingers and the ink branches growing from the tattoo on his bare back.

Chapter 6

When Blue climbed into Gansey’s black Suburban, she discovered that Ronan was already installed in the backseat, his head freshly shaven, boots up on the seat, dressed for a brawl.

“Get the fuck out,” Ronan said, but with admiration. “Sargent, you asshole.” Blue reluctantly allowed him to bump fists with her as Gansey eyed her meaningfully in the rearview mirror.

Ronan patted her leg. “I’ll be proud for you.”

“What?” snapped Ronan. His jealousy of Henry was visible from space.

The Henry encounter had left a ding in Ronan’s cheerful aggression, and now he snapped, “You could’ve just told me to handle this myself. My dreaming’s nobody’s business but mine.”

This silenced Ronan. He slammed himself back into his seat, looked out the window, and put one of his leather bracelets between his teeth.

Chapter 7:

Without any ceremony, he leaned in, scooped up the girl, and began to march towards the forest’s edge.

the particular knit of skin that Adam knew was Ronan’s frown just between his eyebrows;

They proceeded. It was hard to say how long it would take them to get to where Ronan’s mother lived – sometimes it took no time at all and sometimes it took ages, a fact Ronan complained about bitterly as he carried the Orphan Girl. He tried to convince her to walk on her own again, but she crumpled at once into boneless resistance on the forest floor. He didn’t bother to spend minutes fighting with her; he simply scooped her back up again, his expression cross.

Ronan glowered at the Orphan Girl, but it was obvious what the scowl really meant. His arms around her were protective.

It did not escape Adam how well they knew each other. The Orphan Girl was no random creature taken from a fitful dream. They had the well-worn emotional ruts of family. She knew just how to navigate his tumultuous moods; he seemed to know just how gruff he could be with her.

When Adam’s mouth quirked, Ronan’s expression stilled for a moment before turning to the loose smile he ordinarily reserved for Matthew’s silliness.

“Mom, are you here?” Ronan’s voice was different when he spoke to either his mother or Matthew. It was Ronan, unperformed. No. Ronan, unprotected.

She hugged Ronan’s neck, pressing her pale cheek to his pale cheek

Ronan put the girl down without ceremony.

Aurora looked gently tolerant, which clearly infuriated her middle son.

Ronan scowled at the trees as if they might give him the words to explain it.

Chapter 8:

Aurora said, “Don’t be sad, Ronan,” which made him look away from all of them, the set of his shoulders unmoving and furious.

Ronan, still and dark and very much real, closed his eyes.

Chapter 11:

He opened Ronan’s door just enough to confirm that Ronan was inside, sleeping with his mouth ajar, headphones blaring, Chainsaw a motionless lump in her cage.

This other boy stood. He was taller, sinuous, self-possessed. His hair was long and dark and curled, nearly to his chin. This was Ronan, before.

Ronan pelted across the sick white grass.

Ronan’s chest was shaking in airless, silent sobs. He had not cried like that for so long —

Ronan didn’t reply right away. Matthew couldn’t see him, but he was curled on his bed back at Monmouth, forehead resting on his knees, one hand gripping the back of his own skull, phone pressed to his ear.

Chapter 17:

Now Blue looked properly judgemental, which was about two ticks off from her ordinary expression and one tick off from Ronan’s.

Chapter 18:

So now he climbed out of the BMW, clucking to Chainsaw so that she’d stop trying to worry a seam free in the passenger seat, and scanned the lot beside the church for the tri-coloured Hondayota.

Ronan crossed his arms to wait, just looking.

Chainsaw flapped to where the tarot cards were laid out, beak parted curiously, and when Ronan silently pointed at her, she sulked underneath the car.

He allowed Ronan to lean in to compare his eyes – close enough that Ronan felt his breath on his cheek – and he allowed Ronan to study the palm of his hand. The latter was not strictly necessary, and they both knew it, but Adam watched Ronan closely as he lightly traced the lines there.

He briefly described how the corruption of the nightmare tree seemed identical to the corruption of his dreams, hiding his relative distress over the content of the dreams and the fact that it was evidence of a larger secret with an excess of swear words.

Ronan jingled his car keys. As if he was ever not in the mood to drive. He jerked his chin towards the Hondayota. “Are you going to lock your shitbox?” Adam said, “No point. Hooligans got in anyway.” The hooligan in question smiled thinly.

Chapter 19:

A hand gripped the wheel, leather bands looped over the wrist bone.

Ronan was absolutely silent and still, one hand resting on the gearshift, made into a fist. The music had been turned off. When Adam looked over, Ronan continued looking out the windshield, clenching his jaw.

Adam’s father just stood there, looking. And they sat there, looking back. Ronan was coiled and simmering, one hand resting on his door. “Don’t,” said Adam. But Ronan merely hit the window button. The tinted glass hissed down. Ronan hooked his elbow on the edge of the door and continued gazing out the window. Adam knew that Ronan was fully aware of how malevolent he could appear, and he did not soften himself as he stared across the patchy dark grass at Robert Parrish. Ronan Lynch’s stare was a snake on the pavement where you wanted to walk. It was a match left on your pillow. It was pressing your lips together and tasting your own blood.

Ronan spat into the grass – an indolent, unthreatened gesture. Then he rolled his chin away, contempt spilling over and out of the car, and silently put the window back up.

Ronan finally looked at him. Adam expected to see gasoline and gravel in his eyes, but he wore an expression Adam wasn’t sure he’d seen on his face before: something thoughtful and appraising, a more deliberate, sophisticated version of Ronan. Ronan, growing up.

Chapter 21:

Ronan didn’t reply, just looked at the ground. The green air moved all around him, tinting his pale skin, and the trees curved black and real around him, everything in this place looking like his dreams, or everything in his dreams looking like this place.

Ronan’s blue eyes flicked up to Adam.

Chapter 22:

Ronan shrugged, but it was a shrug from caring too much instead of too little.

It was one thing to say it and another thing to see Ronan Lynch standing among the trees he had dreamt into being, looking of a piece with them because he was of a piece with them.

Ronan’s expression had sharpened.

Ronan spread his arms out, meaning clear. It’s not me.

Ronan eyed Adam, assessing his status.

They watched her slide straight into that pool of clear water, and because it was so transparent, they could see how far she plummeted into it. Without pause, Ronan leapt after her.

Chapter 23:

“Get up, Parrish,” Ronan said, gripping Adam’s arm. “We’re getting out of here.”

Chapter 27:

“Hey, Shitlord,” Ronan said to Gansey. “Are you weeping?” He kicked the side of Gansey’s shoe. “Sphincter. You asleep?”

“Whatever, man,” Ronan said, an eyebrow raised at Gansey’s fury.

“Quit screwing around,” Ronan snapped. Counterintuitively, him losing his temper meant that the argument was over. “Put your hands in your pockets.”

Finally, Ronan said, “Jesus God, Sargent. Do you have stitches on your face? Bad. Ass. Put it here, you asshole.” With some relief, Blue lifted her fist and bumped it against his.

Like Ronan, her attentive stare landed somewhere between sullen and aggressive, but the effect was slightly more uncanny when presented by a waif of a girl in muck boots.

Ronan raised an eyebrow.

“Gross,” Ronan said, which was the most juvenile response possible. But Gansey said, “Thanks for the input, Ronan,” with a proper look on his face again, and Adam saw how cleverly Ronan had released the tension of the moment. They could all breathe again.

Chapter 29:

And, to Gansey’s amazement, Ronan went as well, nearly making them both late as he scrounged for a complete uniform in the mess of his room.

Chapter 31:

Ronan shot him a cool look. He didn’t want to see Jiang’s face unless it was behind the wheel of a car.

Ronan slammed his locker. He had not put anything in it and had no reason to open or close it, but he liked the satisfying bang of the metal down the hall, the way it drowned out the announcements. He did it again for good measure.

Ronan wrenched his tie loose. “You working after school?”

Ronan pressed his hands into fists.

Ronan looked at Gansey entreatingly.

Ronan got back inside the car. He slammed the door. He opened it and slammed it again. He opened it a third time and slammed it another time before hurling the knob of his skull against the headrest and staring through the windshield at the turbulent clouds.

Ronan was already going to listen; this made him lay his head against the window and close his eyes.

Ronan picked angrily at his leather wristbands.

On the outside, the three Lynch brothers appeared remarkably dissimilar: Declan, a butter-smooth politician; Ronan, a bull in a china-shop world; Matthew, a sunlit child. On the inside, the Lynch brothers were remarkably similar: They all loved cars, themselves, and each other.

Ronan twisted the leather bands tighter and tighter.

Ronan flipped him the bird with swift proficiency.

Chapter 33:

When Adam had first met Ronan, he had found Ronan’s aversion to the fancy phone so complete that he assumed there must have been a story behind it. Some reason why, even in the press of an emergency, Ronan’s first response was to hand his phone to someone else. Now that Adam knew him better, he realized it had more to do with a phone not allowing for any posturing. Ninety per cent of how Ronan conveyed his feelings was through his body language, and a phone simply didn’t care.

Ronan and Matthew jostled into the kitchen from the backyard. They were noisy and brotherly, horsing around, impossibly physical.

Ronan, intense and powerful with purpose and joy;

A moment later, Ronan hooked his fingers on the doorway of the dining room, looking out.

Niall grabbing her, smiling, sharp and handsome, his chin-length dark hair tucked behind his ears. His face was Ronan’s.

But it was possible that what kept him was Niall Lynch, that older version of Ronan. The likeness was not perfect, of course, but it was close enough to see Ronan’s mannerisms in it. This ferocious, wild father; this wild, happy mother.

Adam looked up to see Niall Lynch standing in the doorway. No, it was Ronan, face lit bright on one side, in stark shadow on the other, looking powerful and at ease with his thumbs tucked in the pockets of his jeans, leather bracelets looped over his wrist, feet bare.

Adam watched how intently Ronan studied the seams, his eyelashes low over his light eyes.

Ronan sat back, his eyes closed, swallowing. Adam watched his chest rise and fall, his eyebrows furrow.

It was a long moment before Ronan opened his eyes, and when he did, his expression was complicated. He stood up. He was still looking at Adam, and Adam was looking back, but neither said anything

Chapter 34:

Ronan was on the roof of one of the small equipment sheds. It was as high as he could get on short notice without wings. He didn’t lower his arms. Fireflies and baubles and his dream flower were glowing and swirling all around him, and they kept sweeping by his vision as he gazed up at the pink-streaked sky.

Ronan lowered his arms and looked at the light Declan had snagged. He shrugged. Declan released the light back into the air. It floated right in front of him, illuminating the sharp Lynch features

Declan reached out and scuffed Ronan’s shaved head.

Chapter 36:

Partway through this, Ronan got up to pace.

Ronan’s expression, if anything, was betrayed.

Ronan plucked at his leather wristbands. “Whatever. I dreamt Cabeswater.”

Blue headed towards the kitchen and Ronan jogged on ahead of her, jostling her intentionally with his hip. “You asshole,” she said, and he laughed merrily.

Ronan, ferocious and loyal and fragile.

Chapter 39:

After Gansey and Blue had left the Barns, he leaned against one of the front porch pillars and looked out at his fireflies winking in the chilly darkness. He was so raw and electric that it was hard to believe that he was awake.  

They sprawled on the living room sofa and Adam studied the tattoo that covered Ronan’s back: all the sharp edges that hooked wondrously and fearfully into each other.

Ronan put Adam’s fingers to his mouth.

Chapter 42:

He had been watching something else, but Chainsaw had alerted him, and so now he turned, hands in the pockets of his dark jacket, and watched Adam approach. “Parrish,” Ronan said. He eyed Adam. He was clearly taking nothing for granted.

“Jesus weeps. You want to carry some hay bales? That’ll put hair on your chest. Hey. You poke me with that one more time —” This was to the Orphan Girl. As they scuffled in the grass, Adam closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that Ronan was looking at him, as he had been looking at him for months.

Chapter 44:

The Orphan Girl’s thin cry caught Ronan immediately; he craned his neck to see her among the dark branches and pools.

Ronan skidded to his knees, his arms around her, and it hurt Adam, somehow, to watch how ferociously he hugged his little strange dream creature, and how she buried her face into his shoulder. He stood with her in his arms, holding her tightly, and he heard her saying, No, you did good, it’s going to be OK, we’re waking up.

Chapter 46:

Ronan sat motionless behind the wheel of the BMW, eyes fixed on some point down the road behind them.

Ronan did not roll down the window or look at him, so Gansey tried the door, found it unlocked, opened it. “Ronan,” he said. The gentle way he said it nearly made Blue cry. Ronan did not turn his head. His feet rested on the pedals; his hands rested on the bottom of the steering wheel. His face was quite composed.

This did not make a dent in Ronan’s expression. It was terrible to see him without any fire or acid in his eyes.

He took a breath through his mouth, released it through his nostrils. Slow and intentional. Everything was slow and intentional, flattened into a state of tenuous control.

Ronan’s eyes were still trained on the road ahead of them. A tear ran down his nose and clung to his chin, but he didn’t so much as blink. When Gansey said nothing else, Ronan reached for the door handle without looking, with the thoughtless stretch of familiarity. He tugged the door free of Gansey’s hand. It closed with less of a bang than Blue had thought Ronan was capable of.

Chapter 50:

Ronan addressed the steering wheel. “I’m aware of how dreaming works, Parrish.”

Chapter 55:

“You dumb shit,” said Ronan. His shirt was very grubby, and the side of his face had dried blood on it, although it was impossible to tell if it was his own.

Chapter 56:

Ronan had kicked in the previous tomb they had discovered, but he touched this one carefully.

“You can wait outside if you’re worried, Cheng,” Ronan said, but his bravado was thin as a spiderweb, and Henry brushed it away as easily as one.

The ceiling was low and hewn into the rock: Gansey had to duck his head a little; Ronan had to duck his head a lot.

Chapter 57:

But. Ronan said, “Then let’s do it. Let’s do it fast. I hate this place. It feels like it’s eating my life.” This vehemence served to focus Gansey’s clouded thoughts.

Ronan crossed his arms.

Chapter 58:

“No,” said Ronan. He didn’t say it in a protesting way, or an angry way, or an upset way. He simply said no. Factual.

Chapter 59:

Ronan wrapped his arms around Adam, pinning Adam’s upper arms against him. He was contained. “Forsan et haec olim meminisse juvabit,” Ronan said into Adam’s hearing ear, and Adam’s body sagged against Ronan, chest heaving.

Chapter 62:

So much of Ronan was bravado, and there was none left.

Chapter 63:

The demon kept pulling him unconscious, and in those short bursts of blackness, the dreamer snatched at light, and when he swam back to consciousness, he thrust the dream into reality. He shaped them into flapping creatures and earthbound stars and flaming crowns and golden notes that sang by themselves and mint leaves scattered across the blood-streaked pavement and scraps of paper with jagged handwriting on them: Unguibus et rostro.

Chapter 64:

Ronan flickered briefly back into consciousness, his eyes awash with black, a rain of flickering pebbles scattering from his hand and skidding to a mucky stop on the bloody pavement.

Ronan clawed briefly back to consciousness; flowers spilled out of the car in shades of blue Gansey had never seen. Ronan was frozen in place, as he always was after a dream, and black slowly oozed out of one of his nostrils.

Chapter 66:

“Get him,” Ronan started, and then had to gather himself to finish, in a snarl, “Get him off the road. He’s not an animal.”

Ronan crouched beside him, black still smeared on his face under his nose and around his ears. His dreamt firefly rested on Gansey’s heart. “Wake up, you bastard,” he said. “You fucker. I can’t believe that you would …”

And he began to cry.

Henry actually stepped back a step, so fierce was Ronan’s grief.  

Opal - a Story:

The UPS man had very bright teeth and grew hair right on top of his face nearly over his mouth, hair that was longer than the hair on Ronan’s head and nearly as long as the hair on Opal’s legs.

Ronan had been standing outside of his parents’ old room, one hand holding a cassette tape and the other clenched into a fist, and he’d been there for quite a few minutes by the time Adam climbed the stairs. Adam had taken the cassette from Ronan’s hand, working Ronan’s fingers loose and putting his own fingers between them. For a moment Opal, hidden, had thought they were going to kiss. But instead, Ronan pressed his face against Adam’s neck and Adam quietly put his head on top of Ronan’s head and they did not move for a long time.

While Ronan ran tap water into a glass and set it on the table like he might be able to smash a hole through the wood with it,

Ronan ducked his head under the table and caught her eye. “For God’s sake. Get a jar and go outside and catch twenty fireflies. Don’t come back in until you’ve caught twenty fireflies.”

She did not go back inside when she was done, because by this time Adam and Ronan had come outside — Adam first, head down, walking fast, hands stuffed in pockets, feet still bare, not looking back, and then Ronan, pausing to jerk on his jacket before following Adam.

What she could get them was that jar of twenty fireflies, which she released in Adam’s face as she scampered by him. He reared back while Ronan enjoyed the scenery.

Ronan paused to kick off his own shoes and stuff his socks in them. Leaving them by the side of the track, he continued alongside Adam with matching bare feet.

Adam wasn’t looking at Ronan and so he did not see the complicated expression that flitted across Ronan’s face, but Opal did.

They held hands and it all became less exciting.

Ronan accidentally started a fire in one of the smaller outbuildings, and although this started out shouty it ended up wild and joyful, with both Adam and Ronan hurling things into it while music galloped in the background.

Opal did not want to swim but Adam taught her until she was fearless, and then Ronan threw buoyant objects for her to fetch until he got tired of being on the shore. He had dreamt himself a pair of tattered black wings that did not quite hold him and he used them now like a temporary diving board, letting them lift him half a dozen feet over the water before dropping him with a muddy splash. Opal floated on her back and kicked her legs like Adam had shown her to do while the boys clung to each other in the water and then separated.

Good: Ronan spent less time in the long barn doing dreamstuff and instead spent time repairing other outbuildings and cleaning the house and typing away at the computer the lady had looked at, which meant Opal often got full days of him, only having to share with Chainsaw, who Opal resented hugely and sometimes daydreamed of eating. Bad: Twice Ronan got a phone call from his Ganseyfriend and both times he did not say anything to the phone, just listened to the ebullient patter on the other end and made grunting sounds in response. Both times after this Ronan went and lay down, once in his own room and once in Aurora’s room; the first time, he was very quiet for a long time, and the second time he held his parents’ photograph and cried a little without making any sound.

Instead she stumbled right up to the back porch, and to her surprise, she found Ronan already there. He hadn’t turned on the back porch light and so he was just another pillar holding up the roof until she got up close to him. The dreamstuff in him was unpleasantly fuzzing the same static it had been doing for weeks, and his face was cast in gray evening light and she didn’t like how he did not look exactly like himself, but she didn’t care enough to not walk right up to him and hug his leg. Ronan let her cling to him for a minute, his hand on her head, and then he said in a low voice, “Opal, could you get Adam? He’s working on his car.”

“Parrish,” Ronan said. “There’s—” He lifted his fingers to reveal that they were smeary with black, like black paint. No, not like black paint. Like the opposite of white paint.

Ronan shook his head, and as he did, a thin dribble of that same black escaped from one of his nostrils. It was coming out of him. The last time this had happened, it had come out of him and out of him and out of him while he twitched in a car, and it had come out of Opal while she huddled in the same car.

Ronan abruptly strode past her and Chainsaw, filled with such brisk purpose that both she and the bird reared back. But he didn’t pause; just opened the front door and went outside. Adam, Opal, and Chainsaw all hurried to follow him. The three of them stood in the dull, friendly light of the porch and watched Ronan. He was not on the porch. He was next to his car, which was on its wheels next to Adam’s car, which was on its blocks, and he had all the doors open. The little interior light looked like the single shining eye of some kind of creature, and it winked sometimes as Ronan moved back and forth in front of it. He was harvesting trash from his car, which he did very rarely — more often Opal would have to do it as a punishment — and placing the papers and wrappers into a bag. Opal did not understand why he was doing such a thing with such furious import. He never ate the trash harvest. Surely he couldn’t really believe the trash harvest would help him with the unmaking. But he continued to rip great handfuls of paperwork from its roots before stuffing it into a Food Lion bag.

“Luckily for you, looks like that isn’t going to matter.” Ronan threw his car keys in the direction of the front porch. They clattered and slammed against the topmost stair, where they remained.

It was not, so Opal turned back to Ronan, who sank down into the passenger seat of the car and let his harvest bag rest on the ground. Black was running out of his ears and soaking his collar, and between his parted lips his teeth were coated in it.

She clattered over to him, her hooves kicking up gravel. Ronan turned his face away, but she had already seen all the unmaking he was trying to hide from her.

Ronan replied sullenly, “I could.”

Ronan leaned back across the center console and snatched the driver’s side door. He slammed it shut and the chiming of the car finally stopped. “What is the point otherwise?”