Feyre smiles softly down at Nyx dozing in his cot, his small wings raised in the air behind him as he sleeps on his belly, face smushed comfortably.

Slipping out of the room, she makes her way to her own, shirking off her black sweater for a blush pink lightweight tee. She has had this irritating feeling in the center of her chest all day. Despite the lingering war and all the fears for Elain, Balthazar, and the rest, the feeling had been there when she woke up. Of course, she knows what it is, but she doesn't want to admit that to herself. Too bad it only grew with each hour that passed, and her curiosity became much too strong to handle.

So moments ago she had made the decision to take the plunge and act recklessly. She knows-she knows it probably isn't a good idea; definitely isn't a good idea. But she has to know—has to see with her own eyes. She has to. The compulsion to do so has a chokehold on her. Not to mention she can always use the excuse of making sure her sister was safe in "enemy" territory. After all, that is what he had called the Night Court to her plenty of times when she was stuck there. She knows that Elain is safe with Lucien but...

She shakes her head and sighs deeply, peering into the mirror. Healthy, despite the circles of exhaustion under her eyes from Nyx not sleeping well at night. Luckily Rhysand will be tied up in his office all day, but the wraith twins had been kind enough to accept watching after Nyx for a little bit.

Winnowing down to Rhys's office, he looks up wearily, his brow furrowing.

"Before you say anything, I just want you to know that this is my decision and I promise I won't kick up too much of a fuss."

"Feyre", he sighs. "Why tempt yourself like that? Why test it? Leave it alone. He is never going to want to see things from our perspective, and he will never back down. People like that, don't."

Feyre crosses her arms a bit and sighs. "Because, Rhys. Despite all of the bad blood, he did save you. I watched you die and I felt our bond go silent. I—"

Rhys looks into her eyes and then holds out a hand. She places a tattooed one in his and he gently pulls her onto his lap. "I know what that's like. But just because he has a shred of morality does not mean anything greater."

Feyre kisses his cheek tenderly. "I'm not saying that everything that happened was right or excusable. It was a horrible time for both of us and we fell out in the worst way. But Rhys, I...when I was begging for your life...I sounded like him."

"What do you mean?"

"I sounded like him Under the Mountain. I begged him to save you, and I told him that I would give him anything. But do you know what he did? He gave you that kernel to bring you back, with no stipulations. And you know what I expected him to do? I expected him to force me into a bargain. To make me make a deal for your life. To make me bargain away a week a month to the Spring Court. But he didn't. He had three options at that moment. Two out of revenge—let you die, or force me to make him a bargain for your life. And he didn't. He saved you for nothing in return."

Rhysand's eyes go a bit stormy, and he blows out a breath. "I admit that maybe we got some things wrong. But he is still the male that got my family killed. And no matter what he does to try to make up for that and all his indiscretions with you, it won't make a difference. All the shit still happened. And no number of flowers will make it smell better."

"He is still reeling, Rhys. We did call him a traitor when he wasn't. He...he did risk his life to get that intel from Hybern. He saved both of us. We can at least be...more civil. He is frustrating, yes. But I am going to try my best to keep my cool. I just—I need to see that the rebuild went well. Honestly, maybe what I did was wrong in some ways, but he needed an overhaul anyway."

Rhys's eyes glimmer with annoyance. "You call down the bond if he so much as speaks to you wrong, and I'll—"

"I can take care of myself where Tamlin is concerned. I am not that girl anymore."

"I know", he mutters.

Feyre kisses his mouth softly, sensually. A promise for later.

.

.

.

Briar smiles, sipping a small glass of faerie wine as she watches the crowd, but mostly her mate. Yes, mate. It's beginning to feel surreal, but getting to know him and everything that lies beneath that stony and oftentimes cracked exterior is important and has been nothing if enlightening. He speaks to some of his people, nonchalantly leaning against a column. If she wasn't attuned to him, she would believe that ease in a heartbeat. However, she can tell his back is rigid, and crowds in general seem to put him on high alert.

Sidling up to him, she flashes him an easy smile, feeling a bit of the tension in the bond dissipate as he glances at her. Her green eyes flick down to her lips as if remembering their heated kiss earlier. She can't seem to help the blush that creeps across her face, and he smirks knowingly before pretending to listen to the male he was speaking with again.

Once the other male steps away, Tamlin turns to her. "How are you enjoying it so far?"

"It's lovely. But I am more concerned with how you are feeling about it. I know enough to know the lands and the High Lord are connected. But I can still feel your unease..."

"Just—", he blows out a breath. "Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like usual. I live in a perpetual state of alertness."

"Relax", Briar murmurs, slowly slipping her hand into his and squeezing encouragingly. "Today has been amazing. You people are at ease, having fun. Poverty is lifting. Trade is happening. Things are improving, according to Lucien. But I didn't need to hear his reports to you to see it all around."

He lets out a shaky breath, body visibly trembling lightly as his shoulders slump a bit. "I will try."

Tamlin strokes his thumb over the back of her hand gently. "I love...wrong. Or...maybe I simply don't", he says plainly.

"I don't believe that."

A small scoff. "You've been here nearly two weeks, Briar. We may be mates, but a bond doesn't make or break anything. Who you are matters. And I am not—"

"Don't—finish that sentence. I have seen the heart you possess inside of you. Even if it were still stone, it would beat through it. And the hardness would have no bearing on the kindness you have shown me, the strength you had gifted me, or the safety you had aided in giving me."

Swallowing thickly he grips her hand a bit tighter. As if assuring himself that she is real. That someone like her is actually saying these things to him. That someone actually cares about his dignity.

His mate.

Not Novalyn. Not Feyre.

Briar. Another mortal woman turned fae female. Another cautious yet wildly free female of intelligence. Someone with a heart that has depths of love and care so deep one could never reach the bottom. His someone.

Perhaps she was the perfect mix of everything he had loved from Nova and from Feyre, yet there was a singular sense of Briar as well. This entirely new person, crafted for him since birth. A female born moral—the mate his soul had been waiting for and seeking his entire existence.

"It...it's just that...it's hard to believe that I have a mate. Never mind someone like you. Perfect", he whispers.

Briar turns red and shakes her head, but kisses his palm lightly. "I am not perfect. Nobody is perfect. I think that you just have to learn to love even the flaws of those you deem worthy of it. And you, Tamlin are not a bad male. You are worthy of softness, of care, and yes, of love. You are not irreparable. Not in the slightest. It's much harder to heal someone who has fallen so deep. But never impossible, only slower. Every day you are trying. That's what matters. Every day these past two weeks and even before I came here, you have been waking up and making an effort. That's what matters. And I told you before. No matter what happens with us and what choices we end up making, I will still be here as a friend and a confidante, if not more. But...slow and steady, hm?"

Tamlin looks to the ground as she subtly tugs him away from the crowd, to walk with her around the outskirts of the forest.

"Some days I don't know why I'm here; why I made it this far-why any of this happened. I was in a horrible place—or rather, I've been in the same horrible place mentally since birth pretty much. Despite the whole curse years ago, I did think Feyre was going to be what saved me. What made me worth...life. But you know how that turned out. Awfully. So awfully. And if the person who was supposed to love me more than anything, who was the one to end my curse because of that love, and who swore of her own volition that it would be forever—if she could end up leaving, and could end up with hate in her heart again, reserved only for me...then what chance did I ever really have, or do I ever really have at being someone who is worth any kind of care in the world?", Tamlin asks brokenly.

"I was born with disdain, I lived my childhood as a burden and a pawn, and I was scarred by horrid deaths that were ultimately my fault. I was hunted and psychologically and physically tortured by my brothers and by Amarantha, and then Hybern."

He pauses. "When the Mother or whatever Fate determines death catches up with me, I will die hated as much as I was during my life. I'm sure everyone would dance on my grave or spit on my ashes. Because that's what I was bred from and for. Hatred. Tyranny. Rage. Evil. The embodiment of loathing and misery spawned me, and it then became me. It married my soul so I can never escape it. I have this beast within me, entwined with my own essence. So it's...it's really no wonder why nobody would want that. Who could love someone destined to be so tainted? Nobody. Nobody. I was never meant for love. Never supposed to keep it. It was a taunt and a shadow of something that can never truly be mine." His voice lowers to a shaking whisper. "As much as I may want you and as much as this bond yearns for you...it is not any fault of yours that you received the worst mate in Prythian. And I absolve you of feeling and obligation toward me. You don't deserve that."

Briar growls lowly. She actually growls, as she feels that roiling protective urge for her mate creep under her skin. "Don't say that bullshit. Don't ever say that bullshit! Tamlin, you were loved by the wrong person. That happens. To almost everyone. There will always be people who were not meant for you, and a person who is. Nothing that transpired in your pain, grief, and PTSD determines whether you are worthy of love. Everyone should have love. Everyone should have some sort of understanding. Especially someone who has been through all the despicable shit that you have been through, starting with your own parents who are supposed to show you what love and care and general wellness is."

"You may have drawn a short stick in luck and in life up until this point. But at some point...at some point, I believe we can make our own luck. We determine our fate as much as the Mother. You do deserve joy and everything good that this life has to offer. You absolutely deserve to experience that."

Tears brim his eyes and hers as she stands before him, staring up at him. Her pale blue eyes shine like the crystal waters of the starlight pool. "You don't truly know me, Briar. You don't."

"Then allow me to. Let me see all of it. The jagged edges and the sharp claws and the bared teeth. Show me your rage and your tears and your hatred. Show me your darkness and your weakness. Let me combat it all. Let me help you carry it all. As a mate, as a friend, as someone who can see how great you are under every little thing dragging you down. I can take it. I can take all of it because I was meant to handle it. Just as you were meant to handle mine. I can see you, Tamlin. Under all the garbage your life has piled on top of you, I can see you clearly."

His lower lip trembles and he turns away. Briar grabs his face gently and turns it back toward her. "I can take it. I am not afraid. I am not one to judge. It is okay to let it out sometimes. You need to."

He shakes his head. "If I start, I fear I may never stop", he chokes out.

"Then it's a good thing we have very long lives", she whispers.

"I can't. There are people, I—I am their High Lord. I have to show that I am better, or they will lose faith in me."

"You know, I think most people actually enjoy having a High Lord who can be softer and more emotional when it allows. As well as strict and protective when needed. You are a person, Tamlin, not a puppet on a string. Your people loved simply talking and dancing and drinking with you today. Getting to hear what you have to say. Enjoying seeing you rise again."

He shrugs slowly. "I dislike showing any weakness. But I supposed it is already widely known that I had failed them for over a year as my beast", Tamlin mutters.

Briar squeezes his hand again before moving onto her tiptoes to kiss him softly.

Tamlin freezes for a moment before kissing back, pillowy lips moving on hers as she sighs into it, her fingers playing with his soft blonde locks. He sucks in a breath through his nose and wraps his arms around her waist, tugging her against him as he tilts her head back, his own fingers in her dark tresses. His tongue plunges into her mouth and tastes her, brushing against hers as he moans with pleasure, the bond humming between them.

As their kiss becomes more heated, his hands drift. From her hair, to her waist, then to gently cup her ass. Briar moans into his mouth and pulls away for air, panting hard as his glazed gaze stares at him.

He growls softly and pulls away with a gentle huff. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like...like I'm good."

"Oh you are good", she teases. "But...you are also good. You are. And I will convince you of it one of these days. Even if it takes me centuries."

He shakes his head a bit and suddenly a sharp siren-like sound rings out. Tamlin immediately goes rigid and snarls, the earth shaking around them as she gasps at it, her eyes widening. His claws are immediately drawn, and his canines lengthen, those partial antlers curling outward.

"Wh-what's going on?"

Tamlin cuts her a glare. "The other shoe is dropping. Stay here while I investigate, okay?"

Briar squeezes his hand and pecks his cheek. "I'll check on the festivities. Be careful."

.

.

.

Feyre winnows into the Spring Court and siren sounds begin to blare. Cursing under her breath, and already caught, so to speak, she continues the remaining ten feet to the Spring Court border, heaving a sigh.

She supposes if she is going to face him, it may as well be immediately. Get it out of the way.

A rush of guards and sentries, including Bron and Hart come rushing over, halting quickly as soon as they set their sights on her. All of them are stone-faced. All aside from Hart, who, if she is being honest, has always been secretly taken with her.

"F-Feyre", he stutters out. "Why—"

"You can't be on these lands", Bron says blandly. "You're no longer welcome here. Especially after we uncovered the truth."

She bristles slightly, even the sight of Tamlin's most loyal sentries making that uneasy dislike of this place well in her chest. "The truth is relative to who you listen to. I'm sure that you heard many truths from many certain people at this point."

Bron crosses his arms, biceps bulging, a sneer appearing on his face. "You just love to shift blame, don't you? Do you realize how many families were lost or killed because of what you did? What you did. With your evil mind tricks."

"Evil?", she snaps, trying to calm that rage and anxiety threatening to bubble up. "Evil? What he did to me was—"

"Was overprotective and wrong but for good reason", Bron interrupts her. "You were brand new to being a fae, untrained, malnourished of your own accord, and self-sabotaging. He is a protective bastard but he and Lucien both explained things to you, and both tried. Nobody realizes how often the sentries are around when they have public displays, but yes, I heard what happened. Saw what happened. Ultimately you obviously were not meant for here or for him, and you both were fucking insufferable then. But that did not give you any right to drag innocents into your immature and petty motives well after the fact. None whatsoever. And we do not want the killer of our Court back here. You are not welcome."

Hart flashes her a pitied look but shakes his head in disdain all the same. "You destroyed us, Feyre. You destroyed every last thread. Did you really have no idea that it would not just affect Tamlin, but the entirety of his people? He is linked to us, to the lands. And you let Hybern in here to kill us all. You turned those families' healing into regression. You became the second coming of the blight."

Feyre locks up, back straightening. "Take that back", she breathes. Beron's flame shines in her eyes, turning the cool blue to a molten gold.

"In every way aside from stealing our magic", a voice rumbles from behind them as they part, giving the High Lord leeway. Tamlin flashes her a sneering slash of a grin. "You preyed upon Lucien to get me upset, as Amarantha did to me. You used Ianthe as a conduit to twist everything and make me lash an innocent sentry, as Amarantha had with you and Lucien. You ripped the safety away from my lands and people like a curse and then committed mass killings by allowing an even greater evil, Hybern, to invade here and trample through. I had it handled. And like hell I was going to trust you with my spy plan after that arrogant prick had gotten his claws into your mind. I had no idea how much of your words were yours. Turns out, you were free, just so fucking changed by that disgusting bond, you became exactly what he is. A fucking monster."

A vicious snarl rips from her throat, sounding wholly like a monster, from somewhere deep and low. She begins her vile retort, but Tamlin interrupts her. "No. I am not dealing with this on my lands or close to them. Access denied. Why are you here?"

Feyre seethes, digging in deep to prevent her powers from lashing out, taking multiple deep breaths so she doesn't throttle him. "My sister is here."

"Yes, with her mate, and?"

She clenches her jaw hard enough to cause pain. "I wanted to make sure she was safe in your lands. Never know what could happen to a female here. Never mind an Archeron", she bites out.

"Lucien is perfectly capable of enjoying a day with her. Go home, Feyre."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"You are on my lands. Not your own. What I say goes."

She scoffs. "As it always was, huh?"

"Funny how you dislike protectiveness, yet who is the one not trusting her own sister's choice now? Or her supposed friend for that matter? I'm sure Lucien would be thrilled to hear you don't trust him after all."

"Lucien and I are fine."

"Not if you've been pretending to simply make him another one of you and Rhysand's little puppets. Luckily, he is smarter than that. Though I wonder if you would invade his mind to get what you want. Maybe I should pass him a warning."

"You threaten my family, Tamlin, and—"

"And what? What the fuck are you going to do, Feyre? There is nothing worse than the shit you've already done. Nothing."

"I will kill you."

Tamlin chuckles and runs a hand through his hair. "I'd love to see you try. I certainly couldn't achieve it myself. My beast is a real bastard."

Feyre blinked at that, the word hit her like a blow, throwing her off. "What?"

He shrugs nonchalantly. "I didn't need your closure, especially not after getting your fake niceties on parchment through Lucien."

Glancing at Bron and Hart, he waves a hand. "You're dismissed. Neither of you needs to hear this discussion. Plus, it is overdue."

They nod to him and leave them, face to face, on either side of the border as if about to engage in battle.

"It wasn't fake. But with how you always act?"

Tamlin scoffs at her again. "Maybe you shouldn't cast stones in your glass house, Feyre, darling", he bites out.

Feyre fists her hands and breathes. "I'm not going to let you bait me into reacting."

"You mean the way you did to me when I was still unhealed? As if you didn't come here to do just that?"

Her jaw flickers. "You hadn't told me your plan...about the spying."

"You know why. It was not only me that thought the worst of Rhys. He proved it through those fifty years, long before you were here."

They stare each other down for a moment.

"You had been friends with him once, too. You knew he wasn't evil."

"He allied with Amarantha. And not as a spy mission the way I did with Hybern. He openly killed innocents. He was death. For years and years before you even came here. Though I should have guessed that you would think it was all about you. Hate to break it to you, but everything does not revolve around Feyre."

A growl rips from her and he returns it with his own, flashing her a small, satisfied smile that she wants to rip off her face.

"Using the gifts I gifted you with, I see. Funny how you think you have the right to them. I hope you realize that if you hadn't been his mate, he and the rest of them would have ripped you open for those seeds of power back."

"I see you're back on your self-righteous posturing", she snaps.

"May I remind you that I have saved your life many times, and your family's. Shall we do a tally?"

"You want a prize for being a decent fucking person?", she seethes.

"Why not? You and he got one, didn't you? High Lady, hm? A new title which means the same as any other Lady in this land. Diminishing them in one sweep because you believe you are more special. You saved our lands, and we were grateful, but you just had to take it up two, three more notches because simple praise and thanks and some of all our powers weren't good enough for you. If we are going to boost titles, we should do it for them all. You have the same position as they do. And Rhys, well...he got you didn't he? He got a son, a whole slew of friends, not to mention the one friend that I had."

"Lucien is not some prize to be won, and neither was I", she growls.

"See, there you go again, making assumptions. You know, that very well may be your downfall one day. You underestimated my truth during the war, and it did nearly cost you. It would do you well to remember the things you hate so much about me are what saved you and your mate's ass."

"Ah, I see. Praise isn't enough for me, but you thrive off of it like a leech."

"I guess we are both beasts", he grins, his teeth a glaring white with a feral gleam in his eye. "If rumors are true."

Her face reddens as she remembers her inner self in the Ouroboros—that snarling vile beast. That hot anger inside of her mixes with upset—only made worse by her hormones. "I am nothing like you." She despises the way her voice shakes, but she clenches her fists, reveling in the feeling of her nails biting into her palms.

"No. You're not. I am honorable in my tactics. The means to mandatory ends, for survival. I may be an angry bastard in many ways, but at least I can say that I will put aside personal vendettas for the good of these lands." He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "And no matter how much deep-set hatred I have for myself, that will never be a reason for it. That I will always stand proud of. I get shit done."

"You tried to ruin me!", she screams.

Tamlin stands there unflinchingly. "Here we go again. You, you you...everything has to be about Feyre, doesn't it? How you feel, what you want, what you think. Get the fuck over yourself. Nothing that happened was only about you!"

By now she is shaking. With anger, with upset, with lingering emotional pain from their downfall...despite having been well over that hill. Everything is rushing back, making her feel blocked in as her breaths come fast. "I will kill you", she says lowly, a raging glow in her eyes. The beast that had never manifested, was now eager and crawling under her skin.

Tamlin's eyes widen slightly in shock as claws slip out from between Feyre's knuckles.

"So it is true."

Feyre claws at the ward on the border, hitting that wall of air. It only makes her more enraged as her canines elongate and she pants and roars at it, unyielding.

"Feyre", he snaps. "You won't get through the border."

"Fuck you!", she screams huskily, clearly flashing back to that day in the Manor. Tamlin grumbles before stepping over the borderline.

Feyre's eyes shoot to him, and she freezes for a moment, utterly confused as to why he would do that after her threat, the idea whirling in her mind and the stupidity of his action stunning her.

He opens his arms wide. "You want to kill me, then go ahead. There is nobody in this world that has wanted me dead more than myself. Not Rhys, and not you. So go on, take your shot. I'll make it easier." He slips his jacket off and tosses it back onto the grass, left in just his tunic. He grabs one of her wrists and places those claws above his heart.

"Wh-what?", she stutters. Her eyes are still aglow and the claws gleaming in the sunlight.

He shrugs. "My Court is fixed. My people are happy. I have done all I needed to do for them."

She stumbles back a bit, the rage dissipating. "I—"

"Not easy, is it? Much easier for these lands to bring it out, like the other powers in their Courts."

Growling, she wrenches her hand away from him and he lets it go. "You're doing this to taunt me. You think I'm weak. You think I'm not truly a threat to you. That's why you're standing in front of me."

Tamlin rolls his eyes. "You got most of my Court killed. I know how much of a threat you are. That's why I am out here, and you are not in there. What I told you is true. Make of it what you like."

"I don't believe—", she pants, anxiousness bubbling up inside of her, flickers and flashes of all the times he was willing to die for her and others going through her mind. Even Under the Mountain. He didn't even flinch when knowing he was going to be stabbed by the Ashwood dagger. He knew...he knew...

Her breaths come fast until she realizes tears are also flowing. Tamlin looks at her half bewildered and half unsure.

"I...", she begins to sob uncontrollably and sinks to her knees, her body trembling and mind overwhelmed. "You wanted to die? This whole fucking time, you wished it?"

Tamlin blows out a breath. "Yes. Until recently. But some days, some...moments...it still creeps in."

She shakes her head, sobbing. But that anger rises up again, as much as she tries to control it. "No. You won't turn yourself into some victim! I know you! I know who you are! There are no happy endings with you! There is only misery and suffocation! Nobody could ever love you! You will never get a happily ever after! You will—you will destroy anyone who comes close to you! That's your real fucking curse! You're a monster!"

Tamlin fists his hands, his own claws poking out as he tries, and fails to control it. "At least I know I'm a monster. I would rather be an authentic monster than a mind-controlling demon. At least I will always know for certain that my relationships are genuine, even the fallout. While you will never know if your thoughts and feelings are ever your own. There is a reason Rhys and I never made amends. And there are things he's done you will never bear witness to. So yes, Feyre. Have an amazing eternity catering to the fucker and popping out his kids because he wants them for his demonic legacy."

Tears rush down her face and for a moment she is shocked into silence, running over every moment in her muddled mind. Wait...muddled? No...he's bluffing. He's a liar. He's twisting everything.

"Fuck you. I hope someone saves your mate from you because all you'll end up doing is killing her. Either slowly as you suffocate her into subservience, or quickly when your beast fucking rips her to ribbons", she says viciously.

His hardened face falls a fraction, his throat working. "I would never—"

"Oh, spare me", she scoffs, rising to her feet again. "You would never, until after you realized you had, right?", she sneers.

"I love her", he admits out loud.

"Ha. You don't have any clue what love is. You never have and you never will. Not even your parents loved you, and everyone you've been with since has either died or ran for the fucking hills."

His jaw clenches so hard he thinks his teeth may break as he rummages through his emotions pummeling into him, his heart cracking as if it were stone once more.

"Think what you like about me. But remember that in bringing your mate back, maybe I ensured you a lifetime of misery in retribution for what you did to my people. Maybe I ensured that you will never have the sound mind to recognize your wants from his. I wonder how many times he has lied to you and played you already? Maybe I wished you happiness because I knew you'd never get it. Frankly, it's pathetic that you can't see how far from yourself you are now. How you're his to wield. I feel sorry for you, but not enough to not take some glee from the fact you are the perfect little puppet he wanted, against your own will, which is so far down inside you that I'd be shocked if it ever saw the light of day again. In fact, it's quite comical to witness Rhys using your anger and your mouth to say what he wants you to say to me. It's hilarious what a fucking copy you are of him now. You are quite a fine blade to wield."

"You won't turn me against him", she breathes out. "You will not twist this."

"What is there to twist, Feyre? Why don't you explain to me what your High Lady duties are? I don't think you ever elaborated. Have you ever held your own meetings? Have you drafted new laws? Have you checked on your soldiers on your own? Have you had to rebuild entire villages from scratch by yourself? Or did you let Rhys's money force lesser fae to do your bidding?"

Feyre scowls. "What we do is none of your business."

"So, essentially nothing then. Got it."

"We will see what nothing looks like when your mate rejects you. Who knows, maybe she will see the light of how awful a person you are", she smirks slightly.

Tamlin roars, and within seconds he is in front of her face, fangs and claws out.

"And there he is", she scoffs.

"Don't you dare threaten her."

"Oh, I don't have to. I just think it's comical that you never truly changed. Luckily, she will be visiting Velaris soon enough and can see for herself what a joke this place is."

"You lay one filthy hand on her—"

"Relax", she rolls her eyes. "I would never hurt her, only help her. Plus, nobody said anything about hands." Her eyes gleam with menace as she slowly caresses his mind with her daemati talons. He shudders and stumbles back.

"Get out of my head", he growls.

"I would never want to go into your head. What a hauntedly disgusting place to be. Just reminding you of your place, High Lord. I am not just my title."

"Nobody is. But you're acting unreasonably right now. Wholly out of your own damn mind."

She laughs. "Leave it to you to have no idea how to handle a female who has given birth. Do hormones scare you, beastie? I fucking hope you never have children."

"At least any children of mine wouldn't be mind-fucked by their own father. I pray to the Mother that your son realizes what assholes you are and gets the hell out as soon as he matures. But then again...you'll force him to be your puppet if he does one thing you don't approve of, right?"

"Don't talk about my son", she snarls viciously.

"As I said", he smiles fakely. "I'll pray to the Mother for both of you."

"You'll have plenty of time, seeing as how you'll live your eternity alone and depressed. Don't expect her to want you when she comes back", she snipes. She goes to winnow away when a voice comes from behind Tamlin.

"Who the hell are you to say this shit to him on his own lands, after what he did for you?"

Feyre freezes a bit, hearing the soft feminine voice with a sharp edge to it, and turns to see the female in question—the same female she had been compelled not to leave behind in the Hybern Camp.