Disclaimer: All but Lyra belong to Sarah J Maas
Azriel watched Tamlin, took in his feral grin and fought the urge to push himself between Lyra and the High Lord as he surveyed the room of them. He could feel the rage lined shield Rhysand slipped around them, but it didn't seem enough to protect his mate from the volatile male.
Not his. She wasn't his.
Thesan rose from his seat, his face pleasant as he stepped toward Tamlin and gestured for his attendants. "We were not expecting you, Tamlin. Fetch the High Lord a chair."
Tamlin showed no sign of even hearing the High Lord of Dawn. He only stared at Feyre and Rhysand, unwavering. That feral grin muted a bit, but it still remain vicious and Azriel lay his hand quietly on Truth Teller.
"I will admit, Tamlin, that I am surprised to see you here." Beron said, dark amusement in his eyes as he watched Tamlin, who did not move his eyes from Feyre. "Rumor claims your allegiance now lies elsewhere."
Tamlin only looked to Feyre's ring and tattoo, then slowly to the crown atop her head. Feyre stared back and Azriel could see her struggle to keep the hard, uncaring look on her face. Rhysand's fingers tightened on her knee.
One of the attendants had finally gotten him a chair, which they pushed between Helion and Beron. Neither of the groups looked pleased by the decision but neither said anything as he slowly sat down.
"Let's get on with it, then." Helion muttered, waving a hand uncaringly.
"It seems congratulations are in order." Tamlin said, voice devoid of any emotion as he stared and stared at his brothers' hand on his mate's knee. Rhysand looked to Tamlin, a chilling rage lining those violet eyes. Azriel had never seen such anger on his brother's face and Azriel was almost sure that he held enough as he beheld Tamlin that it matched his.
Here was the male who had murdered Rhysand's mother and sister, both females that he had loved as his own family. Here was the male that had nearly broken his High Lady, his friend before she had even come into his life. Azriel fought the urge to slaughter him right there.
"We can discuss the matter at hand later." Rhysand said simply, his voice surprisingly even.
"Don't stop on my account." Tamlin said, his tan finger tapping against his knee.
Rhysand leaned back in his chair, giving off an air of ease as he traced circles in the arm of his chair. "I'm not in the business of discussing our plans with enemies."
"No," Tamlin said, matching Rhysand's relaxed mood. "You're just in the business of fucking them."
Azriel froze, icy, horrible anger filling him as he glared at Tamlin. It took everything he had not to launch himself across the pond toward the male. Cassian and Mor looked as though they wanted to do the same. And Lyra…
Azriel wasn't sure if it was the bond or if he was so attuned to her powers now, but he felt them pulse, churning in tune with that anger that was simmering in her white blue eyes. He swore they glowed faintly for a moment.
"Seems a far less destructive alternative to war." Rhysand answered, shrugging as he plastered a smile onto his face.
"And yet here you are, having started it in the first place." Rhysand blinked, staring at Tamlin with bored confusion. A claw slid out of Tamlin's knuckle in answer and Azriel fought that urge again to put himself between the High Lord and Lyra. Tamlin ran it down the arm of his chair, digging lightly into the wood. "If you hadn't stolen my bride away in the night, Rhysand, I would not have been forced to take such drastic measures to get her back."
"The sun was shining when I left you." Feyre answered, her voice low.
Tamlin only gave her a once over before snorting and looking away.
"Why are you here, Tamlin?" Kallias asked, his hand laid protectively over his mate's arm.
Tamlin punctured the wood with a groan and snap, the sound making Thesan flinch. "I bartered access to my lands to get back the woman I love from a sadist who plays with minds as if they are toys. I meant to fight Hybern – to find a way around the bargain I made with the king once she was back. Only Rhysand and his cabal had turned her into one of them. And she delighted in ripping open my territory for Hybern to invade. All for a petty grudge – either her own or her… masters."
"You don't get to rewrite the narrative." Feyre said, voice shaking with her own anger. "You don't get to spin this to your advantage.
"When you fuck her," Tamlin whispered, tilting his head and turning his eyes toward Rhysand. "Have you ever noticed that little noise she makes right before she climaxes?"
Feyre's pale cheeks turned red and he could feel how she withered just slightly under the words. The embarrassment. Azriel's jaw clenched, his shadows whispering and hissing along his skin. "Be careful how you speak about my High Lady." He hissed, unable to stop the snarl that curled on his lips.
Tamlin's eyes lit with surprise, but it quickly turned to stormy wrath. "It was not enough to sit at my side, was it? You once asked me if you'd be my High Lady and when I said no…" Tamlin gave a low laugh, pure hatred simmering in those green eyes. "Perhaps I underestimated you. Why serve in my court, when you could rule in his?"
"You'll make every excuse to get out of facing your own fault, hmmm?" Lyra hissed and Tamlin turned his eyes on her and he seemed to sense the threat she presented because snarled at her, claw extending. Lyra glared back, those eyes flashing. Azriel's heart hammered against his chest at that look of rage Tamlin threw her, his jaw clenching. But after a moment Tamlin dismissed her, just as he had Feyre before he looked to the other High Lord's.
"They peddle tales of defending our land and peace. And yet she came to my lands and laid them bare for Hybern. She took my High Priestess and warped her mind – after she shattered her bones for spite. And if you are asking yourself what happened to that human girl who went Under the Mountain to save us… look to the male sitting beside her." Tamlin glared again at Rhysand, green eyes flaring. "Ask what he stands to gain – what they stand to gain from this war, or lack of it. Would we fight Hybern, only to find ourselves with a Queen and King of Prythian? She's proved her ambition – and you saw how he was more than happy to serve Amarantha to remain unscathed."
"Well played, Tamlin." Rhysand whispered, letting out a laugh. "You're learning."
Tamlin gave Rhysand a look of loathing before he looked to Kallias. "You asked why I'm here? I might ask the same of you. You mean to tell me that after Under the Mountain, you can stomach working with him?" Tamlin asked, looking at the Winter Court with disbelief.
"We came here to decide that for ourselves." Viviane answered, her face grave as she looked to her mate. Mor looked to Viviane, questions swirling in her brown eyes, but Viviane did not look to her.
"I had no involvement in that." Rhysand breathed. "None."
Azriel's stomach sank at the sound of his brother's voice, the guilt that shined in his eyes. He remembered now that day they had received word about the slaughter on those Winter children, how Mor had shed silent tears for them and Cassian had shaken with dark anger. He had only heard his brother mention that day once and the memory of the utter agony on his face filled Azriel with a deep pain.
"You stood beside her throne while the order was given." Kallias snarled, his eyes flashing dangerously as he stared down Rhysand.
"I tried to stop it." Rhysand said, his throat bobbing as he swallowed and his tan skin paled.
"Tell that to the parents of the two dozen younglings she butchered," Kallias said, his voice lined with pain. "That you tried. "
"There is not a day that passes when I don't remember." Rhysand said, looking to the member of each of Winter, eyes shining with emotion. "Not one day."
"Remembering doesn't bring them back, does it?"
"No, no it doesn't." Rhys said, nodding in agreement. "And I am now fighting to make sure it never happens again."
"I was not present Under the Mountain. But I would hear, High Lord, how you tried to stop her." Viviane demanded, her face tight with pain.
Rhys remained silent as Beron gave a snort. "Finally speechless, Rhysand?"
"I believe you." Feyre whispered, her hand moving over her mate's arm, squeezing it. Rhysand swallowed, meeting his mate's loving gaze.
"Says the woman who gave an innocent girl's name in her stead," Beron argued, eyes on Feyre. "For Amarantha to butcher as well."
Feyre let out a breath, her eyes never leaving Rhysand's. Her grip tightened on his arm.
"When your people rebelled… she was furious. She wanted you dead, Kallias." Rhysand finally answered and Viviane's face became a sickly white at the words. "I… convinced her that it would serve little purpose."
"Who knew that a cock could be so persuasive?" Beron grinned. Azriel saw red as he turned his eyes to the High Lord of Autumn, the icy rage he usually kept in check rising within him.
"Father." Eris warned and Azriel was surprised the bastard was smart enough to try to tamper down his father's words.
"She backed off the idea of killing you." Rhysand continued. "Your rebels were dead, I convinced her it was enough. I thought it was the end of it. I only found out when you did. I think she viewed my defense of you as a warning sign- she didn't tell me any of it. And she kept me… confined. I tried to break into the minds of the soldiers she sent, but her damper on my power was too strong to hold them – and it was already done. She… she sent a daemati with them. To…" His brother stumbled, eyes closing briefly before he took a deep breathe and continued. "I think she wanted you to suspect me. To keep us from ever allying against her."
"Where did she confine you?" Viviane asked quietly, her arms wrapped around her middle and she almost looked like she was going to be sick.
"Her bedroom."
The words hit Azriel low in the gut and he closed his eyes for a moment, to settle the guilt and grief left over from those 50 years of separation. Azriel would never forgive himself for not going with Rhysand that night of Amarantha's party, for not scouting ahead and insisting on going with him.
"Stories and words." Tamlin said, waving away the confession. "Is there any proof?"
" Proof- " Cassian snarled, beginning to rise but Mor snapped out an arm, pushing him back down.
"No. But I swear it- upon my mate's life." Rhysand said, his hand laying on top of Feyre's, who was watching him with love and pain in her blue grey eyes.
Kallias swallowed, taking in those words though he revealed none of what he thought. Instead he looked at Tamlin. "Why are you here, Tamlin?"
"I am here," Tamlin snapped, his jaw clenching. "To help you fight against Hybern."
"Bullshit." Cassian spat.
Tamlin glared at him, but Cassian leaned back, unfazed as he gave a grin in return.
"You will forgive us if we are doubtful." Thesan said gently. "And hesitant to share any plans."
"Even when I have information on Hybern's movements?" Tamlin asked, raising a brow. He then turned a smile on Feyre as he continued. "Why do you think I invited them to my house? Into my lands?" He gave a low snarl toward Feyre and the sound had Rhysand stiffening. "I once told you I would fight against tyranny, against that sort of evil. Did you think you were enough to turn me from that? It was so easy for you to call me a monster, despite all I did for you, for your family. Yet you witnessed all that he did Under the Mountain and still spread your legs for him. Fitting, I suppose. He whored for Amarantha for decades. Why shouldn't you be his whore in return?"
"Watch your mouth." Mor snapped, lips curling up into an angry snarl. Lyra's hands were wrapped so tightly around the arms of her chairs, her knuckles had gone white and Azriel swore she was shaking with rage.
"Sometimes I forget what you are." Tamlin said, waving his hands toward his wings. "Have the masks come off now or is this another ploy."
"You're beginning to become tedious, Tamlin." Helion interrupted, looking bored as he propped his head into his hand. "Take your lovers' spat elsewhere and let the rest of us discuss this war."
"You'd be all too happy for war, considering how well you made out in the last one."
"No one says war can't be lucrative." Helion said simply, shrugging. Tamlin snarled at him.
"Enough." Kallias interjected, jaw clenching. "We have our opinions on how the conflict with Hybern should be dealt with. Are you here as an ally of Hybern or Prythian?"
"I stand against Hybern." Tamlin answered and despite all his words, his attacks, Azriel actually believed him.
"Prove it." Helion grinned. Tamlin lifted a tan hand, waving it as papers drifted onto the table beside his chair.
"Charts of armies, ammunition, caches of faebane…. Everything carefully cleaned these months." Tamlin glared again at Feyre, who merely stared back, unfazed by his accusations.
"Noble as it sounds," Hellion muttered, watching Tamlin as though he was nothing more than an annoying child. "Who is to say that information is correct – or that you aren't Hybern's agent, trying to mislead us?"
"Who is to say that Rhysand and his cronies are not agents of Hybern, all of this a ruse to get you to yield without realizing it?" Tamlin answered, shrugging.
"You can't be serious." Lyra hissed, though Mor gave her a look that showed she certainly believed it.
"If we need to ally against Hybern," Thesan said carefully, his eyes running over the papers on the table. "You are doing a good job of convincing us not to band together, Tamlin."
"I am simply warning you that they might present the guise of honesty and friendship, but the fact remains that he warmed Amarantha's bed for fifty years and only worked against her when it seemed the tide was turning. I'm warning you that while he claims his own city was attacked by Hybern, they made off remarkably well- as if they'd been anticipating it. Don't think he wouldn't sacrifice a few buildings and lesser faeries to lure you into an alliance, into think you had a common enemy. Why is it that only the Night Court got word about the attack on Adriata – and were the only ones to arrive in time to play savior?"
"They received word because I warned them of it." Varian snapped, his blue eyes flashing. Tarquin whipped his head to him, surprise and anger lining his face. But Varian kept his eyes on Tamlin, unfazed.
"Perhaps you're working with them, too. You're next in line, after all." Tamlin said simply, ignoring Varian as he bared his teeth to him.
"You're insane." Feyre breathed, shaking her head and sun glinted off that crown atop her head. "Do you hear what you're saying? Hybern turned by sisters into Fae – and your bitch of a priestess sold them out!"
"Perhaps Ianthe's mind was already in Rhysand's thrall. And what a tragedy to remain young and beautiful." Tamlin growled, green eyes lined with hatred as he looked back at Feyre. "You're a good actress, I'm sure the trait runs in the family."
"If you want someone to blame for all of this," Nesta hissed, a low laugh coming from her. "Perhaps you should first look in the mirror."
Tamlin snarled and Azriel watched Cassian tense, snarling back at him. "Watch it."
Recognition flashed in Tamlin's eyes as he looked between Cassian and Nesta, lingering for half a beat on Cassian's wings. "Seems like other preferences run in the Archeron family."
Feyre's fingers tightened on the woodened arm of her chair, anger flashing on her face. "What do you want?" She hissed, eyes flashing as she glared at him. "An apology? For me to crawl back into your bed and play nice, little wife?"
"Why should I want spoiled goods returned to me?"
Feyre's cheeks heated, her resolve wavering for just a moment.
Azriel would kill Tamlin, would take his time running Truth Teller into his sensitive parts.
"The moment you let him fuck you like an-"
His voice sputtered out and for a moment he looked confused before he closed his mouth and tried again to speak. Nothing came again and Azriel gave a grin as he recognized his brother's power. "The gasping-fish look is a good one on you, Tamlin."
Azriel could see it, the weariness that slowly worked it's way through the other High Lord's when they were faced with that enormous, wicked power that Rhysand possessed. That went so much deeper than any of the others.
But now, faced with just a fraction of it, they remembered.
And Azriel smiled.
Lyra watched in delight as Rhysand's power gripped Tamlin's, held it so easily that it was almost laughable. She watched the High Lord of Spring struggle to fight him off, but he stood no chance against the well of dark power that Rhysand had at his disposal. Losing his voice was the least of what this weak, disgusting bastard of a man deserved. Lyra would gladly have lit him alive as she had the Scorpion for the way he spoke to Feyre and Rhysand. For the insults he had hurled at her family.
Whore. That word had Lyra seeing red and fighting off her own power. Ryan had called her that, used it against her when she had finally threatened to reveal what he had done to her. He had used it many times after as he turned the town against her, the police, her own mother.
"If you want proof that we are not scheming with Hybern, consider the fact that it would be far less time-consuming to slice into your minds and make you do my biding." Rhysand said, his voice even and bored. Beron was the only one dumb enough to scoff at Rhysand's threat, but Eris held a flicker of fear. Had angled himself between Rhysand and his mother. "Yet here I am. Here we all are."
The other remained silence, seeming to sit in that threat, the truth of it. Then Tarquin cleared his throat, his blue eyes watchful before he looked over all of them. "Despite Varian's unsanctioned warning…" Tarquin said, throwing a glare toward the man who only stared back, clearly not sorry for his actions. "You were the only one's who came to help. The only ones. And yet you asked for nothing in return. Why?"
Rhys looked at him for a moment, those violet eyes softening before he said roughly, "Isn't that what friends do?"
Tarquin stared, studying Rhysand, searching for whether it was the truth. Then he looked to Feyre, who watched him too, face lined with caring. "I rescind the blood rubies. Let there be no debts between us."
"Don't expect Amren to return hers. She's grown attached to it." Cassian teased, grinning at the Summer Court. Lyra saw Varian's lips turn up into a small grin.
"I believe you." Rhysand said, looking back to Tamlin, who still watched him with such hatred. "That you will fight for Prythian."
Lyra saw Rhysand's power slip back, retreat into him, though she still felt the bit he kept loose. A threat and reminder lurking in the air. Tamlin let out a low growl, the only signal to the others that it had gone. But he didn't move. Lyra wasn't surprised. For all his words and bolstering, Lyra saw what he was beneath. A weak, cowardly man who could not face his own sins, his own faults.
"War is upon us," Rhysand said, looking each of the Lord's in the eyes. "I have no interest in wasting energy arguing amongst ourselves."
"You may be inclined to believe him, Rhysand, but as someone who shares a border with his court, I am not so easily swayed." Beron said, his eyes searching as he looked over their group. "Perhaps my errant son can clarify. Pray, where is he?"
Tamlin and all of Autumn looked at Rhysand, searching for answers. The only one who actually seemed concerned for Lucien, where he was and what danger he may be in was his mother, who's eyes swam with emotion as she looked desperately at them.
"Helping to guard our city," Feyre said, an easy half- lie.
Eris snorted, his eyes slipping over to the eldest Archeron sister. She stared back, a bored, steely look on her face. "Pity you didn't bring the other sister. I hear our little brother's mate is quite the beauty."
Lyra saw Feyre shift, so subtly she almost missed it but she could see the fear that crept into her friend's face. That Eris and his bastard brothers knew of Lucien's connection to Elain.
"You really like to hear yourself talk, don't you?" Lyra asked, trying to draw the brood's focus away from Elain, that simmering threat.
"That hasn't changed in centuries, trust me." Mor added, rolling her brown eyes.
Eris glared at the pair of them, his lip curling in disgust. Lyra met his stare with a challenging grin, some of her power pulsing in her. "Did your little pet dress herself like a slut ," Eris hissed, his eyes running down Lyra's body, then Mor's. "Or did you teach her yourself, Morrigan?"
Lyra opened her mouth to respond, to answer the challenge but before she could even process what was happening, there was a flash of blue that streaked between her and Mor, shattering Eris' shield and in a rustle of black and wings, Azriel was upon him.
"Shit!" Cassian hissed, jumping up from his seat, trying to grab for Azriel but he was blocked by that blue shield, Azriel's own magic sealing the two of them in together. Lyra stared, terror threading its way through her as Azriel's scarred fingers wrapped around Eris' throat, tightening. She could see, could feel the swirling, righteous anger that was leaking from him, as thick as his own shadows. For that pain that Eris had caused Morrigan, for leaving her on that forest floor.
Lyra felt it too, felt her own deadly ire for what had been done to her friend. But this amount of anger, the way Azriel had come to Mor's aid like that….
Those feelings went far deeper than a friend caring for another.
"Enough." Rhysand said, his voice even as he tried to call in his brother. But Azriel did not move, only dug his knee further into Eris' chest as the red head bucked and struggled beneath him.
" Enough, Azriel." Rhys repeated, order lining his voice now. But he didn't rise, didn't use his own magic.
Beron rose instead, anger flashing on his face as he threw fire at that shield but it did nothing. Only bounced back uselessly before fizzling out in the water. Those fat, lazy Koi went deeper into the pond, finding shelter beneath the lily pads.
"Call off your overgrown bat." Beron snapped, turning a glare on Rhysand. He didn't even look concerned for his son, only angry – at the embarrassment of being bested by Azriel, at being unable to stop the attack himself.
Feyre stood instead, the sun rippling over her beautiful gown and sending a sparkling array of colors onto the water below. She glided toward Azriel, toward that blue shield and lay a gentle hand against it, like she was trying to reach inside to Azriel himself. "Come, Azriel."
To Lyra's shaky surprise, Azriel obeyed, his fingers loosening enough to allow Eris to gasp in a greedy breath. Azriel turned toward Feyre and she saw that haunted pain in his eyes, so much that it made something in her break. She sucked in a breath as she saw it, the amount of caring that went so far beyond, leaving a hallow, aching pain in her chest.
Mor was beside her, eyes wide as she shook, her face drained of any color. She stared at Azriel, something like fear in her eyes before she tore them away and to Lyra's surprise, Mor looked to her. But Lyra looked away, unable to meet her friends searching eyes as that hollowness within her spread and she wrapped her arms around herself.
"Come sit beside me." Feyre said, eyes softening as she looked to him. She stretched out her hand, waiting patiently.
Azriel's eyes slid once more to Eris, who was still panting, trying to desperately suck in air. He leaned close to him, whispering something low in his ear and Eris paled, fear lining his eyes.
And then the shield dropped and his shadows retreated, allowing sunlight back onto his skin. Lyra couldn't look at him, couldn't face those feelings in his eyes again and instead she stared into the pool, at those fish now daring to peak back out.
Beron sent more fire toward Feyre and Azriel, a dark look sparkling in his eyes, but with a flick of her hand, Feyre had erected a shield of her own that sent it away. "That's twice now we've handed you your asses. I'd think you'd be sick of the humiliation."
Helion laughed, eyes simmering in delight at the insult. Feyre reached toward Azriel again, who's scarred fingers found hers and rose from the floor, wings rustling. A seat had appeared next to Feyre for Azriel and Nesta had made room for him to sit between them. Lyra saw him sit shakily out of the corner of her eye and Feyre went to the where the wine sat and poured out a glass. She offered it to Azriel, who took it, pulling it toward himself.
"They are my family." Feyre said when some of the others raised a brow at the High Lady serving someone they deemed beneath her. Tamlin scoffed at the words, rolling those green eyes. "I don't care if we are allies in this war," Feyre continue, cold anger on her face as she looked at Eris. "If you insult my friends again, I won't stop him the next time."
There was a pause, so long that Lyra finally looked up from that water to find Eris staring at her, a careful look on his face before he then looked at Mor. "Apologies, Morrigan, Lady."
Lyra pursed her lips, staring at him. She said nothing, only looked away and dismissed him. Mor's eyes were on her again, her hand still shaking in her lap as they gripped her blue gown. But Lyra couldn't look at her, not when she didn't understand the pain that was eating at her at what had just happened.
She had seen it before, glimpses of what Azriel might have felt for Mor, but it had been small things here or there. Looks that lingered, his shadows brightening. She chalked it up to how long they had known each other, to their years and years of friendship. She had made excuses for it.
To protect herself.
The reality of what she felt, how much she had grown to care for Azriel seemed to smack her in the face now. Her feelings had changed somewhere along the way, turned into more than just seeing him as a caring friend. The truth ran through her, filling her with both fear and heartache.
God, she was so stupid, for letting herself feel this way. Why would Azriel ever return her feelings? He was so kind, so caring and good. More than someone like her, still broken, could ever hope for. And next to Mor, who was all sun and beauty and kindness, she paled in comparison.
She hated that she was jealous of her friend, who had given so much to help her. Mor had helped her in ways that the blonde would never even know and she hated that she felt this bitter resentment toward one of the best people she had ever come to know. Mor couldn't help it that Azriel had those feelings for her anymore than Azriel could help it. And Lyra couldn't even fault him for having them. Mor was the best of this world.
Lyra took a deep breathe, her fingers digging into her palm as she tried to steady the feelings swirling within her. They didn't matter, not as much as the two people who she had come to care so much for. Who were two of the best people she had ever met. She could push them aside, for her friendships with both of them and for both of their happiness. If Mor or Azriel wanted to be together, she would never stand in the way, she decided, would not stop or let her own feelings stand between them. Because if anyone deserved happiness, it was the two of them. After all they had endured, they deserved it.
She could and would push them down, push them aside. No matter what it did to her.
Lyra blinked, calming herself enough to finally focus back on the meeting still happening around her. Pulled herself out of that dark place she had spiraled to and looked up, forcing herself to listen.
"…perhaps that was part of the plan." Tamlin was growling, glowering again at Feyre. "Disable my force while your own swept in. Or was it just to see my people suffer?" His claws slipped out of his knuckles again, fangs elongating in his mouth. "Surely you knew that when you turned my forces on me, it would leave my people defenseless against Hybern."
Feyre swallowed, though her face remained impassive.
"You primed my court to fall. And it did." Tamlin snarled, claws digging into the wood again. "Those villages you wanted so badly to help rebuild. They're nothing more than cinders now. And while you've been making antidotes and casting yourselves as saviors, I've been piecing together my forces – regaining their trust, their numbers. Trying to gather my people in the East, where Hybern has not yet marched."
"So you won't be taking the antidote, then?" Nesta asked dryly, rolling her eyes at him. Tamlin ignored her.
"You said you had two suggestions based on the information you analyzed." Thesan said to Helion, his way of distracting from the dangerous exchange.
"Indeed, though it seems Tamlin is already ahead of me." Helion said, shrugging his muscled shoulder. "The Spring Court must be evacuated. Surely your northern neighbors will welcome them." He looked between Autumn and Summer.
"We do not have the resources for such a thing." Beron countered, his lips curling at the thought.
"Right," Viviane snorted, her icy blue eyes glaring at him. "Because everyone's to busy polishing every jewel in that trove of yours."
"Wives," Beron spat, glaring at the silver haired beauty, "were invited as a courtesy, not as consultants."
"If this war goes poorly, we'll be bleeding out right alongside you," Viviane snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously. "So I think we damn well get a say in things."
"Hybern will do far worse things than kill you." Beron said coolly, dark amusement in his eyes. "A young, pretty thing like you especially."
Kallias' and Mor's snarls shook the room and Kallias lay his hand on his mate's arm protectively. Beron only grinned, like the prospect of violence against Viviane was amusing. Lyra felt anger, spurred on by her own pain, fill her with a sickly feeling.
"Only three of us were present for the last war." Beron continued, nodding to Helion and Rhysand. Helion had stilled, shadows crossing his face. "One does not easily forget what Hybern and the Loyalists did to capture females in their war-camps. What they reserve for High Fae females who either fought for the humans or had families who did." He patted his wife's arms, a look of fake concern on his face. "Her two sisters forces ambushed their lands. The two ladies did not walk out of that war camp again."
His wife kept her gaze steadily away from her husband, from any of the others in the room and instead stared at the reflection pool. She had gone pale but kept her face blank of any emotion that the words had brought out in her. Schooled into submission by years, centuries of abuse. Lyra watched her, sadness mixing with her rage.
"We will take your people." Tarquin interrupted, looking to Tamlin. "Regardless of your involvement with Hybern… your people are innocent. There is plenty of room in my territory. We will take all of them, if need be."
Tarquin was a good man, one of the best in his room, save for those that Lyra had come here with. Lyra understood why Rhysand and Feyre had taken his anger so hard. Why they sought his friendship.
Tamlin only gave a small nod to the other High Lord. Prick.
"So the Seasonal Courts are to become the charnel houses and hostels, while the Solar courts remain pristine here in the North?" Beron drawled. Lyra fought the urge to remind him he had offered no aid in the first place.
"Hybern has focused it's efforts on the southern half, to be close to the wall – and human lands." Rhysand said, and Lyra saw Feyre and Nesta glance to each other. "Why bother to go through the northern climes, through faerie territories on the continent, when you could claim the South and use it to go directly to the human lands of the continent?"
"And you believe the human armies there will bow to Hybern?" Thesan inquired.
"It's queens sold us out." Nesta spoke up, her back straight as she surveyed them. She was more a queen then emissary. "For the gift of immortality, the human queens will allow Hybern in to sweep away any resistance. They might very well hand over control of their armies to him." She looked back toward Rhysand, her sister. "Where do the humans on our island go? We cannot evacuate them to the continent, with the wall intact… many might rather risk waiting than cross over the wall anyway."
"The fate of the humans below the wall," Beron muttered, waving her concern away with the bat of his hand. "Is none of our concern. Especially in a spit of land with no queen, no army."
"They're innocent people." Lyra snapped, disgust lining her voice. But Beron dismissed her as he had Viviane, as he did his wife. She fought back a growl.
"It is my concern." Feyre cut in. "Humans are nearly defenseless against our kind."
"So go waste your own soldiers defending them. I will not send my own forces to protect chattel." Beron huffed and the words made Lyra clench her jaw. Fucking disgusting bastard.
"You're a coward." Feyre breathed, her power churning beneath her skin, rising.
"The same could be claimed of you." Beron answered, a mocking smile on his lips.
"I don't need to explain myself to you."
"No, but perhaps to that girls family – but they're dead, too, aren't they? Butchered and burned to death in their own beds." Beron purred, eyes sparking as he saw what the words did to Feyre, the flicker of pain in her eyes. "Funny, that you should now seek to defend humans when you were all too happy to offer them up to save yourself."
Lyra felt Feyre's power rise more, just below the surface and Rhysand tensed beside her, reaching out a hand to lay on her knee, calming her before he said simply, "As my lady said, she does not need to explain herself to you."
"Then I supposed I don't need to explain my motivations either." Beron shrugged, leaning back in his chair.
"Your staggering generosity aside," Rhysand muttered, raising a brow at him. "Will you be joining our forces?"
"I have not yet decided."
Eris at least had the smarts to look concerned, to give his father a look of rebuke. Beron ignored it though.
"Armies take time to raise. You don't have the luxury of sitting on your ass." Cassian snapped, glaring at him. "You need to rally your soldiers now."
"I don't take orders from the bastards of lesser fae whores." Beron snapped, curling his lip in disgust as he looked down at Cassian. Lyra gripped the arm of her chair again, taking in a steadying breath to push back her anger at that word again, the dismissal of Cassian.
Cassian, who fought to protect anyone who needed it, who would give everything of himself for his friends and family. Who was worth a million times more than Beron.
"That bastard," Nesta said, icy rage in her words. "May wind up being the only person standing in the way of Hybern's forces and your people."
Cassian stared and stared at Nesta, though she didn't look back, a look that was close to wonder on his face. Lyra wasn't sure she had ever heard Nesta say his name.
"Get out if you're not going to be helpful." Feyre snapped.
"Did you know," Beron retorted, those brown eyes sparking with anger as he looked to Feyre. "That while your mate was warming Amarantha's bed, most of our people were locked beneath the mountain?"
Feyre glared back, that power against shaking inside her.
"Did you know that while he had his head between her legs, most of us were fighting to keep our families from becoming the nightly entertainment?"
"That's enough, Beron." Tarquin warned wisely, looking between Feyre and Rhysand, who had gone pale again.
"And now, Rhysand wants to play hero. Amarantha's whore becomes Hybern's Destroyer. But if it goes badly, will he get on his knees for Hybern? Or just spread his-"
But he didn't get to finish his sentence. Because powerful, shield shattering fire speared toward Beron.