A/N: Standard disclaimer applies, I do not own the ACoTaR series nor any characters within it. This is purely a fanwork and the only character (thus far introduced) who is of my own creation is the narrator in this prologue and will be presented by name in the following chapters. If you're reading this, I suspect you are familiar with the series and will likely be able to distinguish between my original creations and the incredible work of Sarah J. Maas.

Also, a heads-up, even though this will take place during ACoWaR and ACoFaS, it will not change or modify any events or conversations that occur in the books. For the most part, scenes described in my chapters will take place in pockets of time for Tamlin and others that generally went unobserved. I have deliberately placed my character in locations where the POV characters would not have noticed during the active narration of the novels. Ex. Rhysand may encounter her in the span of time encompassed within one of the books, but not during any of his POV chapters or in a way that would take him away from activities he was described as doing. Rewrites of existing works can be tedious if not done extremely well, both to the author and the reader and that's something I definitely want to avoid.

Lastly, I feel the need to place a pre-emptive warning. This story will include several darker, mature themes. While it may have a happy ending somewhere at the far end of the tunnel, the relationship between Tamlin and my character is not going to start out in healthy place. They will be genuinely awful to one another for a good while before they can learn to move past the hurt and start to care for one another again. If you're looking for a sweet, fluff-filled romance this is not the story for you.

PROLOGUE

Mate.

To most Fae, in both Prythian and beyond, it was something held with reverence. A blessing from the Mother, or maybe the Cauldron. A glorious tether of mythic proportions, more precious than the gold and jewels of kings. The fated missing piece to one's very soul.

I was that foolish once, believed with every bit of my heart that it was a Truth of the world. We both did. The bond clicked into place and we both believed we were being swept away into our own fairytale ending. We hadn't the slightest notion that we were standing at the precipice of tragedy.

We had been so young. And so very, very naïve.

Perhaps our feelings had been true. Perhaps even without the mating bond we would have fallen for one another and made the same damn mistakes. I'm not sure it matters. Not sure I even care where the fault truly lies. This dark festering emotion deep in my chest has long since eclipsed everything else. Betrayal wrapped in despair. Wrath giving way to apathy. A volatile swirl of dank, negative feeling blotting out all the light.

I bared my very essence to the bond only to find that my love for him took everything in return.

Took my beloved wings which I'd always valued as a symbol of my freedom and strength, torn and mangled beyond repair.

Took the Princess who always looked up at me with affection and admiration, the very child I swore to protect to my dying breath.

Took the Lady who first offered me a hand out of the drudgery my gender and station would have otherwise trapped me within for the rest of my immortal days.

Took the makeshift family of misfits who shared a dream and gave me the courage to do the same.

I lost so very much to that love that in my grief and fury I decided to even the scales. I'll never be proud of my actions, yet, I could never find it within myself to stop. To regret. The violent fire of rage swelling in the depths of my very being was something I wouldn't keep to myself—couldn't keep to myself. I took from my mate so I would not be alone in my anguish.

For the family now beyond my reach; dissent and defection throughout his Court, a flame easily fanned with just a few well-placed words.

For the Lady slain; his mother, a price already reaped by another.

For the Princess butchered; the head of the warrior youth who idolized him, spiked on a statue in his garden in a brutal display much the same as the filthy, bloodstained box sent drifting down a river.

And for my wings ruined...? For that hurt I could devise no appropriate retribution. Not in the moment. Not before I had to flee to my father's homeland to plead sanctuary. Not before the devastation I unleashed across our bond ignited such a searing pain that I had to distance myself before it consumed me whole. My mate had no extension of himself that I could sully and rend in the same way his kin had done to mine. At the least, none of which I had known how to take.

Until today.

Until I once more set foot on the lush green grass ever-present throughout his lands.

Until the ancient island king mocked him for how blind he'd been to let his lover destroy his Court from within.

Until that same tyrant cleverly let slip how my mate had granted his beautiful siren part of his power to save her from death's grasp.

The same power that let him change his shape.

The very power that could give me back my wings.

I had come to play games, to manipulate and deceive so I might save my once-home from the clutches of greedy Fae with no sense of true suffering.

I knew the moment our eyes met, why I would stay. So familiar and so different all at once. Same shape. Same gold-flecked green. Yet, they held no warmth. No longer so vibrant that I swore the essence of Spring itself swirled in their depths. Instead they were… cold. Hard as the stone his heart had once been made of. Had I done that? All those centuries ago with my spiteful cruelty? Or was this a new development? A scar left by her. His new love who turned on him as if history were repeating itself. I wasn't sure which possibility I liked more—or least. Conflicting emotions warred with one another: remorse, satisfaction, indignation, jealousy.

There was a tightness in my chest, like a thread fastened to my breast pulled taunt to draw me towards him. I didn't resist. I let my body move of its own accord towards the grim-faced High Lord before me. The male I had once loved more deeply than any other. The same male I now loathed with everything I'd become. The kind of hatred that I suspected could only thrive in the shadow of a once blinding affection.

He stood with a sort of preternatural stillness as I closed the distance. Watching to see what I'd do, unwilling to risk exposing any weakness by making the first move. I didn't mind. I could feel the corner of my lips curl at it. He saw me as a threat. How delightful. I let my magic swell and swirl around us, filling the space, shielding us from prying eyes and ears. He didn't move, remained so still I nearly missed it. The warning. A low growl deep in his throat that sent a thrill racing down my spine. A sensation I had no desire to examine more closely. It had the opposite effect of what he likely intended, spurred me to press myself close as a hand slid up to rest against his chest.

There was a curious little flutter in my traitorous stomach. This was different too. He was strong in my memory, muscled, but not nearly this broad, so firm. He had been an adult then, a trained warrior, but perhaps… Perhaps not grown fully into his powerful frame. It reminded me once again of how very young we had been then, and how very old we were now.

I felt him tense further under my touch, saw the twitch in jaw as he ground his teeth and glared down at me with eyes of cut emerald. The rancor I saw there rivaled my own. Consuming, devouring, but contained if only just. It made me wonder just how little it would take to push him over the edge. To unleash the beast lurking just beneath his skin.

But that wasn't why I was here. Wasn't why I would stay. Not to tease his rage or twist the knife in his freshest wounds. Not even the lure of the bond was enough to keep me, radiating with his sorrow in such a way that set my every instinct screaming at me to ease his pain, to comfort.

I came to sabotage a rallying army. I would stay to collect on a debt centuries in the making.

I slid to stand on the tips of my toes, stretching my neck so my cheek pressed against his chin. He refused to accommodate me like he had once done in a time long past, stubbornly standing tall so I wouldn't be able to quite reach his ear. No matter. I tilted my head back down, letting my nose brush the underside of his jaw as my lips found the pulse point at his throat.

"Hello, mate," I purred softly against his skin. A wicked satisfaction spread when I felt him stiffen beneath my touch.

"Let's make a bargain."