Some part of him wanted desperately to shred the paper, the canvas, and the rest of the paintings. This was the part of that wanted to erase her from the manor and from his heart.

But he loved her far, far too much for that.

With shaking fingers, Tamlin pulled the note off of the canvas, opened it, and started to read.

Tamlin,

I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I'm writing this now to clear some things up, because I know that you're angry. That you hate me. That you have questions.

I didn't know I was Rhys's mate until months and months after I left. I never touched him the way you might think I did until then. When I left, I thought that I was just taking a break to let you sort everything out.

I didn't want to hurt you.

It sounds like utter bullshit, but it's true. I never left the Spring Court with the goal to screw you over. It was strange—the longer I was away from you, the angrier I became. I was so, so angry that you hadn't noticed my wasting away, that I was in deep shit and needed someone to pull me out. Remember when I said I was drowning? I was. I was drowning in guilt and in sorrow and in self-hate.

Amarantha didn't just snap my neck, you know.

All I wanted was for you to bring me back to the surface. But when you locked me in, I fell apart completely. The Morrigan carried me out, and, with Rhys, I began to put myself back together. It's not that he fixed me—he helped me fix myself. He isn't the male you think he is. He's kind, he's caring, and he will do everything to keep the people he cares about safe. In that way, the two of you are ironically similar. You probably won't believe me, but I needed to tell you. I need you to understand. Not even to forgive. But to understand, Tamlin.

And then Hybern happened.

I wanted to bring you down, brick by brick, because of how far you went to get me back. I hated you for what you did to the people I love.

See, I haven't forgiven you either. But I get why you did it.

There's one more thing I have to say to you, and it's about Lucien. He still wants to be your friend.

He went to the Night Court to get his mate back, the female he loves back—not for me. He was angry at me, too, you know. And he was right to be.

I wasn't planning on bringing him, on stealing him away. But just as I was about to leave, Ianthe was about to do horrible things to him. Horrible, horrible things. I couldn't-wouldn't leave him to that.

That's all. For what it's worth, I'm sorry.

Feyre

Tamlin's green eyes filled with tears.

"I'm sorry, too," he whispered, choking on the words. "Damn it, Feyre."

He wept, shoulders shaking, until he had no tears left to weep.