I have no self control.

Sincerely, Author

Nesta waited, sprawled across the blankets, book in hand. She didn't bother to put her clothes back on as she anticipated his return.

When Azriel winnowed him in, however, he didn't immediately go to ravish her. Cassian grabbed his shirt as he stalked over, not even glancing at his brother's disappearing form, and hauled her to her feet.

"What is it?" she asked innocently, putting her hands on hi chest.

He growled and pushed her off, guiding her arms through the sleeves like she was a child.

"I can-" But he was already buttoning it up, much to her confusion. "Cassian-"

"Just… Be quiet please." He paused for a moment, face pained grievously. Then, with no preamble, he flipped her over his shoulder.

She shrieked, nearly getting a mouthful of wing.

He hooked his arm around her knees and bounded up the stairs. Nesta tried to move his damn wing but it was stronger than it looked, holding her upper half in place. She had never been in the upstairs of the house, deeming that his territory and thus drawing a line at the base of the steps.

But then they were in his room and she was being set on the bed. She watched with wide eyes as he locked the door and slid the key under it, keeping them both inside.

"What the hell?" she shouted, leaping off the bed. It was only then that she took in the room. Shelves along the walls were overflowing with titles and paintings and maps hung in any empty spaces. But one wall was barely that-just a giant window, stretching from floor to ceiling, wall to wall. It looked over the Illyrian camp, so transparent it was as if it wasn't there.

"It's glamoured to look like it's not there from the outside." His lips were a tight line, a mockery of the grin that graced them so often.

Something was very, very wrong.

He prowled closer until he was a handbreadth away. "We're you planning on telling me I'm your mate before or after I bedded you and accepted the bond?"

She didn't let her chin waver a inch. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do." He took another step forward and she took a step back. "When did you find out, Nesta?"

She tried not to tremble, looking him square in the face. "I'm no idiot-I always have. Since I first met you."

"You were human."

"But not stupid." She crossed her arms, cocking her hip to the side. "I've had dreams my entire life-small flashes, as if bits of memory."

She heard him suck in a sharp breath. She knew that Rhysand had experienced the same thing with Feyre.

Knew and didn't care.

"What did you see?" Cassian asked carefully, some of the stiffening malice seeping from his shoulders.

"What does it matter?" she snapped. Blades, armies. Mud and tents. Glowing red Siphons and blood. So much blood and pain. She had woken up in a cold sweat so many times, checking to be sure her sisters beside her weren't harmed by this invisible threat. Other nights she would wake with his laughter ringing in her ears, seeing his blades flash like the ribbons of a dancer. Beautiful. Untamed. Impossible.

Is it some faerie magic of yours, to do such things?

Cassian brought a hand up to cup her face but she turned away. "Is it so bad," she asked, "to want you to accept the bond? To wait while you made eyes at Mor for you to finally notice me? I thought I could have this-have you." Tears welled but she wouldn't let them fall. He had walked right into her trap then right back out without some much as a glance at the workings. She thought he was stupid for it, but maybe he was brave. Maybe it was her that was stupid for trying to trick him like this.

"You think I didn't notice you? You think I haven't spent nights lying awake wondering if you would take me? Wondering if we were compatible or if we'd just tear each other apart." He grabbed her hand before she could pull away, pressing the pad of his thumb to her palm. "Do you know how much I wanted you to be my mate if only to give excuse for all these treacherous thoughts?"

She gaped up at him. "Cassian-"

"But you-you tried to take my freedom with this bond. I thought I was being clever but apparently I was just being played. I'm tempted, now, to reject you as my mate."

Her heartbeat was a hummingbird's wings in her throat. She couldn't breathe. "P-please."

He smirked but it didn't reach his eyes. "I told you I'd have you begging." He turned her hand in his, bringing her wrist to his lips. She thought her heart would explode out of her chest. "I've always envied Feyre and Rhys, you know." He kissed each of her fingertips. "They're perfect for each pulled each other out of the dark.

"You are the dark, Nesta Archeron. I've seen what stirs behind your eyes. This entire time I thought you were broken and here you are, trying to build an empire out of my affection."

He leaned forward so their lips touched-just barely. "I love you, Nesta Archeron, whether or not you are my mate." He pulled away and she saw reminded that he was the General of the Night Court for a reason. He was known for his brutality, his mercilessness. "But I will not have you with this armor."