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Sarah J. Maas

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“Do you- do you want to dance with me?' I whispered. He was silent for so long that I lifted my head to scan his face. But his eyes were bright- silver-lined. 'You want to dance?' he rasped, his fingers curling around mine. I pointed with my chin toward the celebration below. 'Down there- with them.' Where the music beckoned, where life beckoned. Where he should spend the night with his friends, and where I wanted to spend it with them, too. Even with the strangers in attendance. I did not mind stepping out of the shadows, did not mind even being in the shadows to begin with, so long as he was with me. My friend through so many dangers- who had fought for me when no one else would, even myself. 'Of course I'll dance with you,' Rhys said, his voice still raw. 'All night, if you wish.' 'Even if I step on your toes?' 'Even then.' He leaned in, brushing his mouth against my heated cheek. I closed my eyes at the whisper of a kiss, at the hunger that ravaged me in its wake, that might ravage Prythian. And all around us, as if the world itself were indeed falling apart, stars rained down. Bits of stardust glowed on his lips as he pulled away, as I stared up at him, breathless, while he smiled. The smile the world would likely never see, the smile he'd given up for the sake of his people, his lands. He said softly, 'I am... very glad I met you, Feyre.' I blinked away the burning in my eyes. 'Come on,' I said, tugging on his hand. 'Let's go join the dance.”

“Her magic sent him sprawling, and it then hurled into Rhysand again - so hard that his head cracked against the stones and the knife dropped from his splayed fingers. No one made a move to help him, and she struck him once more with her power. The red marble splintered where he hit it, spiderwebbing toward me. With wave after wave she hit him. Rhys groaned. "Stop," I breathed, blood filling my mouth as I strained a hand to reach her feet. "Please." Rhys's arms buckled as he fought to rise, and blood dripped from his nose, splattering on the marble. His eyes met mine. The bond between us went taut. I flashed between my body and his, seeing myself through his eyes, bleeding and broken and sobbing. I snapped back into my own mind as Amarantha turned to me again. "Stop? Stop? Don't pretend you care, human," she crooned, and curled her finger. I arched my back, my spine straining to the point of cracking, and Rhysand bellowed my name as I lost my grip on the room.”

“Faeries began calling foul play, demanding Tamlin be released from the curse, calling her a liar. Through the haze, I saw Rhysand crouching by Tamlin. Not to help him, but to grab the- "You are all pigs - all scheming, filthy pigs." Then Rhysand was on his feet, my bloody knife in his hands. He launched himself at Amarantha, swift as a shadow, the ash dagger aimed at her throat. She lifted a hand - not even bothering to look - and he was blasted back by a wall of white light. But the pain paused for a second, long enough for me to see him hit the ground and rise again and lunge for her - with hands that now ended in talons. He slammed into the invisible wall Amarantha had raised around herself, and my pain flickered as she turned to him. "You traitorous piece of filth," she seethed at Rhysand. "You're just as bad as the human beasts." One by one, as if a hand were shoving them in, his talons pushed back into his skin, leaving blood in their wake. He swore, low and vicious. "You were planning this all along.”

“Rhys kept starting at the table as he said, 'I didn't know. That you were with Tamlin. That you were staying at the Spring Court. Amarantha sent me that day after the Summer Solstice because I'd been so successful on Calanmai. I was prepared to mock him, maybe pick a fight. But then I got into that room, and the scent was familiar, but hidden... And then I saw the plate, and felt the glamour, and... There you were. Living in my second-most enemy's house. Dining with him. Reeking of his scent. Looking at him like... Like you loved him.' The whites of his knuckles showed. 'And I decided that I had to scare Tamlin. I had to scare you, and Lucien, but mostly Tamlin. Because I saw how he looked at you, too. So what I did that day...' His lips were pale, tight. 'I broke into your mind and held it enough that you felt it, that it terrified you, hurt you. I made Tamlin beg- as Amarantha had made me beg, to show him how powerless he was to save you. And I prayed my performance was enough to get him to send you away. Back to the human realm, away from Amarantha. Because she was going to find you. If you broke that curse, she was going to find you and kill you. 'But I was so selfish- I was so stupidly selfish that I couldn't walk away without knowing your name. And you were looking at me like I was a monster, so I told myself it didn't matter, anyway. But you lied when I asked. I knew you did. I had your mind in my hands, and you had the defiance and foresight to lie to my face. So I walked away from you again. I vomited my guts up as soon as I left.' My lips wobbled, and I pressed them together. 'I checked back once. To ensure you were gone. I went with them the day they sacked the manor- to make my performance complete. I told Amarantha the name of that girl, thinking you'd invented it. I had no idea... I had no idea she'd sent her cronies to retrieve Clare. But if I admitted my lie...' He swallowed hard. 'I broke into Clare's head when they brought her Under the Mountain. I took away her pain, and told her to scream when expected to. So they... they did those things to her, and I tried to make it right, but... After a week, I couldn't let them do it. Hurt her like that anymore. So while they tortured her, I slipped into her mind again and ended it. She didn't feel any pain. She felt none of what they did to her, even at the end. But... But I still see her. And my men. And the others that I killed for Amarantha.' Two tears slid down his cheeks, swift and cold. He didn't wipe them away as he said, 'I thought it was done after that. With Clare's death. Amarantha believed you were dead. So you were safe, and far away, and my people were safe, and Tamlin had lost, so... It was done. We were done. But then... I was in the back of the throne room that day the Attor brought you in. And I have never known such horror, Feyre, as I did when I watched you make that bargain. Irrational, stupid terror- I didn't know you. I didn't even know your name. But I thought of those painter's hands, the flowers I'd seen you create. And how she'd delight in breaking your fingers apart. I had to stand and watch as the Attor and its cronies beat you. I had to watch the disgust and hatred on your face as you looked at me, watched me threaten to shatter Lucien's mind. And then- then I learned your name. Hearing you say it... it was like an answer to a question I'd been asking for five hundred years.”

“I saw you through your dreams- and I hoarded the images, sorting through them over and over again, trying to place where you you were, who you were. But you had such horrible nightmares, and the creatures belonged to all courts. I'd wake up with your scent in my nose, and it would haunt me all day, every step. But then one night, you dreamed of standing amongst green hills, seeing unlit bonfires for Calanmai.' There was such silence in my head. 'I knew there was only one celebration that large; I knew those hills- and I knew you'd probably be there. So I told Amarantha...' Rhys swallowed. 'I told her that I wanted to go to the Spring Court for the celebration, to spy on Tamlin and see if anyone showed up wishing to conspire with him. We were so close to the deadline for the curse that she was paranoid- restless. She told me to bring back traitors. I promised her I would.' His eyes lifted to mine again. 'I got there, and I could smell you. So I tracked that scent, and... And there you were. Human- utterly human, and being dragged away by those piece-of-shit picts, who wanted to...' He shook his head. 'I debated slaughtering them then and there, but then they shoved you, and I just... moved. I started speaking without knowing what I was saying, only that you were there, and I was touching you, and...' He loosed a shuddering breath. There you are. I've been looking for you. His first words to me- not a lie at all, not a threat to keep those faeries away. Thank you for finding her for me. I had the vague feeling of the world slipping out from under my feet like sand washing away from the shore. 'You looked at me,' Rhys said, 'and I knew you had no idea who I was. That I might have seen your dreams, but you hadn't seen mine. And you were just... human. You were so young, and breakable, and had no interest in me whatsoever, and I knew that if I stayed too long, someone would see and report back, and she'd find you. So I started walking away, thinking you'd be glad to get rid of me. But then you called after me, like you couldn't let go of me just yet, whether you knew it or not. And I knew... I knew we were on dangerous ground, somehow. I knew that I could never speak to you, or see you, or think of you again. 'I didn't want to know why you were in Prythian; I didn't even want to know your name. Because seeing you in my dreams had been one thing, but in person... Right then, deep down, I think I knew what you were. And I didn't let myself admit it, because it there was the slightest chance that you were my mate... They would have done such unspeakable things to you, Feyre. 'So I let you walk away. I told myself after you were gone that maybe... maybe the Cauldron had been kind, and not cruel, for letting me see you. Just once. A gift for what I was enduring. And when you were gone, I found those three picts. I broke into their minds, reshaping their lives, their histories, and dragged them before Amarantha. I made them confess to conspiring to find other rebels that night. I made them lie and claim that they hated her. I watched her carve them up while they were still alive, protesting their innocence. I enjoyed it- because I knew what they had wanted to do to you. And knew that it would have paled in comparison to what Amarantha would have done if she'd found you.' I wrapped a hand around my throat. I had my reasons to be out there, he'd once said to me Under the Mountain. Do not think, Feyre, that it did not cost me.”

“Thank you for warming the bed,' I said into the dimness. His back was to me, but I heard him clearly as he said. 'Amarantha never once thanked me for that.' Any warmth leeched away. 'She didn't suffer enough.' Not even close, for what she had done. To me, to him, to Clare, to so many others.”

“When Amarantha made me kill those two faeries, if the third hadn't been Tamlin, I would have put the dagger in my own heart at the end.' Rhys went still. 'I knew there was no coming back from what I'd done,' I said, wondering if the blue flame in the Carver's eyes might burn my ruined soul to ash. 'And once I broke their curse, once I knew I'd saved them, I just wanted enough time to turn that dagger on myself. I only decided I wanted to live when she killed me, and I knew I had not finished whatever... whatever it was I'd been born to do.' I dared a glance at Rhys, and there was something like devastation on his beautiful face. It was gone in a blink.”

“I didn't think I could get through that dinner.' 'What do you mean?' He'd been rather... calm. Contained. 'Your sisters mean well, or one of them does. But seeing them, sitting at that table... I hadn't realised it would hit me as strongly. How young you were. How they didn't protect you.' 'I managed just fine.' 'We owe them our gratitude for letting us use this house,' he said quietly, 'but it will be a long while yet before I can look at your sisters without wanting to roar at them.' 'A part of me feels the same way,' I admitted, nestling down into the blankets. 'But if I hadn't gone into those woods, if they hadn't let me go out there alone... You would still be enslaved. And perhaps Amarantha would now be readying her forces to wipe out these lands.”

“Every year that I was Under the Mountain and Starfall came around, Amarantha made sure that I... serviced her. The entire night. Starfall is no secret, even to outsiders- even the Court of Nightmares crawls out of the Hewn City to look up at the sky. So she knew... She knew what it meant to me.' I stopped hearing the celebrations around us. 'I'm sorry.' It was all I could offer. 'I got through it by reminding myself that my friends were safe, that Velaris was safe. Nothing else mattered, so long as I had that. She could use my body however she wanted. I didn't care.' 'So why aren't you down there with them?' I asked, even as I tucked the horror of what had been done to him into my heart. 'They don't know- what she did to me on Starfall. I don't want it to ruin their night.' 'I don't think it would. They'd be happy if you let them shoulder the burden.' 'The same way you rely on others to help with your own troubles?' We started at each other, close enough to share breath. And maybe all those words bottled up in me... Maybe I didn't need them right now.”

“She had no idea that every second, every breath, I plotted her death. I was willing to make it my last stand: to kill her at any cost, even if it meant shredding my wings to break free. ... 'And I was ready- I was so damned ready to make an end of it, and wait for Cassian and Azriel and Mor on the other side. There was nothing but my rage, and my relief that my friends weren't there.”

“I knew in that moment there was nothing I wouldn't do to keep her from looking at my court again. From looking too long at who I was and what I loved. So I told myself that it was a new war, a different sort of battle. And that night when she kept turning her attention to me, I knew what she wanted. I knew it wasn't about fucking me so much as it was about getting revenge at my father's ghost. But if that was what she wanted, then that was what she would get. I made her beg, and scream, and used my lingering powers to make it so good for her that she wanted more. Craved more.' I gripped the counter to keep from sliding to the ground. 'Then she cursed Tamlin. And my other great enemy became the one loophole that might free us all. Every night that I spent with Amarantha, I knew that she was half wondering if I'd try to kill her. I couldn't use my powers to harm her, and she had shielded herself against physical attacks. But for fifty years- whenever I was inside her, I'd think about killing her. She had no idea. None. Because I was so good at my job that she thought I enjoyed it, too. So she began to trust me- more than the others. Especially when I proved what I could do to her enemies. But I was glad to do it. I hated myself, but I was glad to do it. After a decade, I stopped expecting to see my friends or my people again. I forgot what their faces looked like. And I stopped hoping.”

“Beside me, the light had winked out of Rhys's eyes. What I'd asked about Amarantha, what horrors I'd made him remember... A confession for a confession- I thought he'd done it for my sake. Maybe he had things he needed to voice, couldn't voice to these people, not without causing them more pain and guilt.”

“Amren said, 'When Rhys came back, after Amarantha, he was a ghost. He pretended he wasn't, but he was. You made him come alive again.' Words stalled, and I didn't want to think about it, not when what ever good I'd done- whatever good we'd done for each other- might have been wiped away by what I'd said to him.”

“Pressed closer, loathing every place where our bodies touched. I didn't know how Rhys had endured it- endured Amarantha for five decades. 'You look beautiful today,' Tamlin said. 'Thank you,' I made myself peer up into his face. 'Lucien- Lucien told me that you didn't complete the rite at Calanmai. That you refused.' And you let Ianthe take him into that cave instead. His throat bobbed. 'I couldn't stomach it.' And yet you could stomach making a deal with Hybern, as if I were a stolen item to be returned. 'Maybe this morning was not just a blessing for me,' I offered. A stroke of his hand down my back was his own reply.”

“You played the villain convincingly enough, Jurian,' Rhys purred. Jurian snapped his face towards Rhys. 'You should have looked. I expected you to look into my mind, to see the truth. Why didn't you?' Rhys was quiet for a long moment. Then he said softly, 'Because I didn't want to see her.' See any trace of Amarantha.”

“We made a bargain,' Rhysand said. I flinched as he brushed a stray lock of my hair from my face. He ran his fingers down my cheek- a gentle caress. The throne room was all too quiet as he spoke his next words to Tamlin. 'One week with me at the Night Court every month in exchange for my healing services after her first task.' He raised my left arm to reveal the tattoo, whose ink didn't shine as much as the paint on my body. 'For the rest of her life,' he added casually, but his eyes were now upon Amarantha. The Faerie Queen straightened a little bit- even Jurian's eye seemed fixed on me, on Rhysand. For the rest of my life- he said it as if it were going to be a long, long while. He thought I was going to beat her tasks. I stared at his profile, at the elegant nose and sensuous lips. Games- Rhysand liked to play games, and it seemed I was now to be a key player in whatever this one was.”

“So,' he said wearily,' here we are, with the fate of our immortal world in the hands of an illiterate human.' His laugh was unpleasant as he hung his head, cupping his forehead in a hand, and closed his eyes. 'What a mess.' Part of me searched for the words to wound him in his vulnerability, but the other half recalled all that he had said, all that he had done, but his head had snapped to the door before he'd kissed me. He'd known Amarantha was coming. Maybe he'd done it to make her jealous, but maybe... If he hadn't been kissing me, if he hadn't shown up and interrupted us, I would have gone out into that throne room covered in smudged paint. And everyone- especially Amarantha- would have known what I'd been up to. It wouldn't have taken much to figure out whom I'd been with, especially not once they saw the paint on Tamlin. I didn't want to consider what the punishment might have been. Regardless of his motives or his methods, Rhysand was keeping me alive. And he'd done so even before I set foot Under the Mountain.”

“And would could Amarantha possibly have to test me about?' I didn't balk from that violet stare. Amarantha's whore, Lucien had once called him. 'You lied to her. About Clare. You knew very well what I looked like.' Rhysand sat up in a fluid movement and braced his forearms on his thighs. Such grace contained in such a powerful form. I was slaughtering in the battlefield before you were even born, he'd once said to Lucien. I didn't doubt it. 'Amarantha plays her games,' he said simply, 'and I play mine. It gets rather boring down here, day after day.”

“Rhysand chuckled. 'If you're that desperate for release, you should have asked me.' 'Pig,' I snapped, covering my breasts with the folds of my gown. With a few easy steps, he crossed the distance between us and pinned my arms to the wall. My bones groaned. I could have sworn shadow-talons dug into the stones beside my head. 'Do you actually intend to put yourself at my mercy, or are you truly that stupid?' His voice was composed of sensuous, bone-breaking ire. 'I'm not your slave.' 'You're a fool, Feyre. Do you have any idea what could have happened had Amarantha found you two in here? Tamlin might refuse to be her lover, but she keeps him at her side out of the hope that she'll break him- dominate him as she loves to do with our kind.' I kept silent. 'You're both fools,' he murmured, his breathing uneven. 'How did you not think that someone would notice you were gone? You should thank the Cauldron Lucien's delightful brothers weren't watching you.' 'What do you care?' I barked, and his grip tightened enough on my wrists that I knew my bones would snap with a little more pressure. 'What do I care?' he breathed, wrath twisting his features. Wings- those membranous, glorious wings- flared from his back, crafted from the shadows behind him. 'What do I care?' But before he could go on, his head snapped to the door, then back to my face. The wings vanished as quickly as they had appeared, and then his lips were crushing into mine. His tongue pried my mouth open, forcing himself into me, into the space where I could still taste Tamlin. I pushed and thrashed, but he held firm, his tongue sweeping over the roof of my mouth, against my teeth, claiming my mouth, claiming me- The door was flung wide, and Amarantha's curved figure filled the space. Tamlin- Tamlin was beside her, his eyes slightly wide, shoulders tight as Rhys's lips crushed mine. Amarantha laughed, and a mask of stone slammed down on Tamlin's face, void of feeling, void of anything vaguely like the Tamlin I'd been tangled up with moments before. Rhys casually released me with a flick of his tongue over my bottom lip as a crowd of High Fae appeared behind Amarantha and chimed in with her laughter. Rhysand gave them a lazy, self-indulgent grin and bowed. But something sparked in the queen's eyes as she looked at Rhysand. Amarantha's whore, they'd called him.”

“Why do you think I'm doing this?' He waved a hand to me. 'Because you're a monster.' He laughed. 'True, but I'm also a pragmatist. Working Tamlin into a senseless fury is the best weapon we have against her. Seeing you enter into a fool's bargain with Amarantha was one thing, but when Tamlin saw my tattoo on your arm... Oh, you should have been born with my abilities, if only to have felt the rage that seeped from him.' I didn't want to think much about his abilities. 'Who's to say he won't splatter you as well?' 'Perhaps he'll try- but I have a felling he'll kill Amarantha first. That's what it all boils down to, anyway: even your servitude to me can be blamed on her. So he'll kill her tomorrow, and I'll be free before he can start a fight with me that will reduce our once-sacred mountain to rubble.' He picked at his nails. 'And I have a few other cards to play.' I lifted my brows in silent question. 'Feyre, for Cauldron's sake. I drug you, but you don't wonder why I never touch you beyond your waist or arm?' Until tonight- until the damned kiss. I gritted my teeth, but even as my anger rose, a picture cleared. 'It's the only claim I have to innocence,' he said, 'the only thing that will make Tamlin think twice before entering into a battle with me that would cause a catastrophic loss of innocent life. It's the only way I can convince him I was on your side. Believe me, I would have liked nothing more than to enjoy you- but there are bigger things at stake than taking a human woman to my bed.”

“Why did Amarantha target you?' I dared ask. 'Why make you her whore?' 'Beyond the obvious?' He gestured to his perfect face. When I didn't smile he loosed a breath. 'My father killed Tamlin's father- and his brothers.' I started. Tamlin had never said- never told me the Night Court was responsible for that. 'It's a long story, and I don't feel like going into it, but let's just say that when she stole out lands out from under us, Amarantha decided that she especially wanted to punish the son of her friend's murderer- decided that she hated me enough for my father's deeds that I was to suffer.' I might have reached a hand toward him, might have offered my apologies- but every thought had dried up in my head. What Amarantha had done to him...”

“Then he said quietly, 'You've lost weight.' 'You're prone to digging through my head whenever you please,' I said, stabbing a piece of melon with my fork. 'I don't see why you're surprised by it.' His gaze didn't lighten, though that smile again played about his sensuous mouth, no doubt his favourite mask. 'Only occasionally will I do that. And I can't help it if you send things down the bond.' ... I scowled, clenching my fork harder. 'And how often do you just rifle through my mind when my shields are down?' All amusement faded from his face. 'When I can't tell if your nightmares are real threats or imagined. When you're about to be married and you silently beg anyone to help you. Only when you drop your mental shields and unknowingly blast those things down the bridge. And to answer your question before you ask, yes. Even with your shields up, I could get through them if I wished. You could train, though- learn how to shield against someone like me, even with the bond bridging our minds and my own abilities.”

“My room was... a dream. ... Like the upstairs living area, its windows were open to the brutal world beyond- no glass, no shutters- and sheer amethyst curtains fluttered in that unnatural soft breeze. The large bed was a creamy white-and-ivory concoction, with pillows and blankets and throws for days, made more inviting by the twin golden lamps beside it. An armoire and dressing table occupied a wall, framed by those glass-less windows. Across the room, a chamber with a porcelain sink and toilet lay behind an arched wooden door, but the bath... The bath. Occupying the other half of the bedroom, my bathtub was actually a pool, hanging right off the mountain itself. A pool for soaking and or enjoying myself. Its far edge seemed to disappear into nothing, the water flowing silently off the side and into the night beyond. A narrow ledge on the adjacent wall was lined with fat, guttering candles whose glow gilded the dark, glassy surface and wafting tendrils of steam. Open, airy, plush, and... calm. The room was fit for an empress. With the marble floors, silks, velvets, and elegant details, only an empress could have afforded it. I tried not to think what Rhys' chamber was like, if this was how he treated his guests. Guest- not prisoner. Well... the room proved it.”

“I leaned into Tamlin, sighing. 'It feels- feels as if some of it was a dream, or a nightmare. But... But I remembered you. And when I saw you there today, I started clawing at it, fighting, because I knew it might be my only chance, and-' 'How did you break free of his control,' Lucien said flatly from behind us. Tamlin gave him a warning growl. I'd forgotten he was there. My sister's mate. The Mother, I decided, did have a sense of humour. 'I wanted it- I don't know how. I just wanted to break free of him, so I did.' We stared each other down, but Tamlin brushed a thumb over my shoulder. 'Are- are you hurt?' I tried not to bristle. I knew what he meant. That he thought Rhysand would do anything like that to anyone- 'I- I don't know,' I stammered. 'I don't... I don't remember those things.' Lucien's metal eye narrowed, as if he could sense the lie. But I looked up at Tamlin, and brushed my hand over his mouth. My bare, empty skin. 'You're real,' I said. 'You freed me.' It was an effort not to turn my hands into claws and rip out his eyes. Traitor- liar. Murderer. 'You freed yourself,' Tamlin breathed. He gestured to the house. 'Rest- and then we'll talk. I... need to find Ianthe. And make some things very, very clear.' 'I- I want to be a part of it this time,' I said, halting when he tried to herd me back into that beautiful prison. 'No more... No more shutting me out. No more guards. Please. I have so much to tell you about them- bits and pieces, but... I can help. We can get my sisters back. Let me help.' Help lead you in the wrong direction. Help bring you and your court to your knees, and take down Jurian and those conniving, traitorous queens. And then tear Ianthe into tiny, tiny pieces and bury them in a pit no one can find. Tamlin scanned my face, and finally nodded. 'We'll start over. Do things differently. When you were gone, I realised... I'd been wrong. So wrong, Feyre. And I'm sorry.' Too late. Too damned late. But I rested my head on his arm as he slipped it around me and led me toward the house. 'It doesn't matter. I'm home now.' 'Forever,' he promised. 'Forever,' I parroted, glancing behind- to where Lucien stood in the gravel drive. His gaze on me. Face hard. As if he'd seen through every lie. As if he knew of the second tattoo beneath my glove, and the glamour I now kept on it. As if he knew that they had let a fox into a chicken coop- and he could do nothing. Not unless he never wanted to see his mate- Elain- again. I gave Lucien a sweet, sleepy smile. So our game began. We hit the sweeping marble stairs to the front doors of the manor. And so Tamlin unwittingly led the High Lady of the Night Court into the heart of his territory.”

“I leaned into Tamlin, sighing. 'It feels- feels as if some of it was a dream, or a nightmare. But... But I remembered you. And when I saw you there today, I started clawing at it, fighting, because I knew it might be my only chance, and-' 'How did you break free of his control,' Lucien said flatly from behind us. Tamlin gave him a warning growl. I'd forgotten he was there. My sister's mate. The Mother, I decided, did have a sense of humour. 'I wanted it- I don't know how. I just wanted to break free of him, so I did.' We stared each other down, but Tamlin brushed a thumb over my shoulder. 'Are- are you hurt?' I tried not to bristle. I knew what he meant. That he thought Rhysand would do anything like that to anyone- 'I- I don't know,' I stammered. 'I don't... I don't remember those things.' Lucien's metal eye narrowed, as if he could sense the lie. But I looked up at Tamlin, and brushed my hand over his mouth. My bare, empty skin. 'You're real,' I said. 'You freed me.' It was an effort not to turn my hands into claws and rip out his eyes. Traitor- liar. Murderer. 'You freed yourself,' Tamlin breathed. He gestured to the house. 'Rest- and then we'll talk. I... need to find Ianthe. And make some things very, very clear.' 'I- I want to be a part of it this time,' I said, halting when he tried to herd me back into that beautiful prison. 'No more... No more shutting me out. No more guards. Please. I have so much to tell you about them- bits and pieces, but... I can help. We can get my sisters back. Let me help.' Help lead you in the wrong direction. Help bring you and your court to your knees, and take down Jurian and those conniving, traitorous queens. And then tear Ianthe into tiny, tiny pieces and bury them in a pit no one can find. Tamlin scanned my face, and finally nodded. 'We'll start over. Do things differently. When you were gone, I realised... I'd been wrong. So wrong, Feyre. And I'm sorry.' Too late. Too damned late. But I rested my head on his arm as he slipped it around me and led me toward the house. 'It doesn't matter. I'm home now.' 'Forever,' he promised. 'Forever,' I parroted, glancing behind- to where Lucien stood in the gravel drive. His gaze on me. Face hard. As if he'd seen through every lie. As if he knew of the second tattoo beneath my glove, and the glamour I now kept on it. As if he knew that they had let a fox into a chicken coop- and he could do nothing. Not unless he never wanted to see his mate- Elain- again. I gave Lucien a sweet, sleepy smile. So our game began. We hit the sweeping marble stairs to the fornt doors of the manor. And so Tamlin unwittingly led the High Lady of the Night Court into the heart of his territory.”

“I doubted the stone and iron of the building could hold any of us, certainly not together, but... Letting them shut us in here to wait... It rubbed against some nerve. Made my body restless, a cold sweat breaking out. Too small, not enough air... It's all right, Rhys soothed. This place cannot hold you. I nodded, though he hadn't spoken, trying to swallow the feeling of the walls and ceiling pushing on me. Nesta was watching me carefully. I admitted to her, 'Sometimes... I have problems with small spaces.' Nesta studied me for a long moment. And then she said with equal quiet, though we could all hear, 'I can't get into a bathtub anymore. I have to use buckets.' I hadn't known- hadn't even thought that bathing, submerging in water... I knew better than to touch her hand. But I said, 'When we get home, we'll install something else for you.' I could have sworn there was gratitude in her eyes- that she might have said something else when horses approached.”

“You're telling me this now?' 'I got sidetracked,' he said, his eyes twinkling. And the light in those eyes, the quiet joy... They knocked the breath from me. A future- we would have a future together. I would have a future. A life. His smile faded into something awed, something... reverent, and I reached out to cup his face in my hands- To find my skin glowing. Faintly, as if some inner light shone beneath my skin, leaking out into the world. Warm and white light, like the sun- like a star. Those wonder-filled eyes met mine, and Rhys ran a finger down my arm. 'Well, at least now I can gloat that I literally make my mate glow with happiness.' I laughed, and the glow flared a little brighter. He leaned in, kissing me softly, and I melted for him, wrapping my arms around his neck.”

“I took it upon myself to add your presents to the communal trove.' I lifted my brows. 'Everyone gave you their gifts?' 'He's the only one who can be trusted not to snoop,' Mor explained. I looked toward Azriel. 'Even him,' Amren said. Azriel gave me a guilty cringe. 'Spymaster, remember?' 'We started doing it two centuries ago,' Mor went on. 'After Rhys caught Amren literally shaking a box to figure out what was inside.' Amren clicked her tongue as I laughed. 'What they didn't see was Cassian down here ten minutes earlier, sniffing each box.' Cassian threw her a lazy smile. 'I wasn't the one who got caught.' I turned to Rhys. 'And somehow you're the most trustworthy one?' Rhys looked outright offended. 'I am a High Lord, Feyre darling. Unwavering honour is built into my bones.' Mor and I snorted.”

“You make me so very happy. My life is happy, and I will never stop being grateful that you are in it. I looked up to find him not at all ashamed to have tears slipping down his cheeks in public. I brushed a few away before the chill wind could freeze them, and Rhys whispered into my ear, 'I will never stop being grateful to have you in my life, either, Feyre darling. And no matter what lies ahead' - a small, joyous smile at that- 'we will face it together. Enjoy every moment of it together.' I leaned into him again, his arm tightening around my shoulders. Around the top of the arm inked with the tattoo we both bore, the promise between us. To never part, not until the end. And even after that. I love you, I said down the bond. What's not to love? Before I could elbow him, Rhys kissed me again, breathless and swift. To the stars who listen, Feyre. I brushed a hand over his cheek to wipe away the last of his tears, his skin warm and soft, and we turned down the street that would lead us home. Toward our future- and all that waited within it. To the dreams that are answered, Rhys.”

“I want to draw you,' I said. 'As my birthday present to me.' His smile was positively feline. I added, flipping open my sketchbook and turning to the first page, 'You said once that nude would be best.' Rhys's eyes glowed, and a whisper of his power through the room had the curtains parting, flooding the space with midmorning sunshine. Showing every glorious naked inch of him sprawled across the bed, illuminating the faint reds and golds of his wings. 'Do your worst, Cursebreaker.”

“Whatever he said or did, Tamlin decided he wishes to remain in solitude.' His russet eye darkened. 'Your mate should have known better than to kick a downed male.' 'I can't say I'm particularly sorry that he did.' 'You will need Tamlin as an ally before the dust has settled. Tread carefully.' I didn't want to think about it, consider it, today. Any day. 'My business with him is done.' 'Yours might be, but Rhys's isn't. And you'd do well to remind your mate of that fact.”

“Cassian elbowed his way past Amren, earning a hiss of warning, and began chucking presents. Mor caught hers easily, shredding the paper with as much enthusiasm as Amren. She grinned at the general. 'Thank you, darling.' Cassian smirked. 'I know what you like.' Mor held up- I choked. Azriel did, too, whirling on Cassian as he did. Cassian only winked at him as the barely there red negligee swayed between Mor's hands. Before Azriel could undoubtedly ask what we were all thinking, Mor hummed to herself and said, 'Don't let him fool you: he couldn't think of a damn thing to get me, so he gave up and asked me outright. I gave him precise orders. For once in his life, he obeyed them.' 'The perfect warrior, through and through,' Rhys drawled. Cassian leaned back on the couch, stretching out his long legs before him. 'Don't worry, Rhysie, I got one for you, too.' 'Shall I model it for you?”

“I know High Ladies are probably supposed to wear a new dress every day,' I mused, smiling at the gown, 'but I'm rather attached to this one.' He ran his hand down my thigh. 'I'm glad.' 'You never told me where you got it- where you got all my favourite dresses.' Rhys arched a dark brow. 'You never figured it out?' I shook my head. For a moment, he said nothing, his head dipping to study the dress. 'My mother made them.' I went still.' Rhys smiled sadly at the shimmering gown. 'She was a seamstress, back at the camp where she'd been raised. She didn't just do the work because she was ordered to. She did it because she loved it. And when she mated my father, she continued.' I grazed a reverent hand down my sleeve. 'I- I had no idea. His eyes were star-bright. 'Long ago, when I was still a boy, she made them- all your gowns. A trousseau for my future bride.' His throat bobbed. 'Every piece... Every piece I have ever given you to wear, she made them. For you.' My eyes stung as I breathed. 'Why didn't you tell me?' 'He shrugged with one shoulder. 'I thought you might be... disturbed to wear gowns made by a female who died centuries ago.' I put a hand over my heart. 'I am honoured, Rhys. Beyond words.' His mouth trembled a bit. 'She would have loved you.' It was as great a gift as any I'd been given. I leaned down until our brows touched. I would have loved her. I felt his gratitude without him saying a word as we remained there, breathing each other in for long minutes.”

“I linked my arm through his, nestling into his warmth. 'It's strange,' I murmured. Rhys angled his head. 'What is?' I smiled. At him, at the Rainbow, at the city. 'This feeling, this excitement to wake up every day. To see you, and to work, and to just be here.' Nearly a year ago, I'd told him the opposite. Wished for the opposite. His face softened, as if he, too, remembered it. And understood.”

“So the three of them are just in there. Naked. Sweating.' Mother above. Interested in taking a look? The dark purr echoed into my mind. Lech. Go back to your sweating. There's room for one more in here. I thought mates were territorial. I could feel him smile as if he were grinning against my neck. I'm always eager to learn what sparks your interest, Feyre darling.”

“He grinned at me over the giant tiered cake in his arms- over the twenty-one sparkling candles lighting up his face. Cassian clapped me on the shoulder. 'You thought you could sneak it past us, didn't you?' I groaned. 'You're all insufferable.' Elain floated to my side. 'Happy birthday, Feyre.' My friends- my family- echoed the words as Rhys set the cake on the low-lying table before the fire. I glanced toward my sister. 'Did you...?' A nod from Elain. 'Nuala did the decorating, though.' It was then that I realised what the three different tiers had been painted to look like. On the top: flowers. In the middle: flames. And on the bottom, widest layer... stars. The same design of the chest of drawers I'd once painted in that dilapidated cottage. One for each of us- each sister. Those stars and moons sent to me, my mind, by my mate, long before we'd ever met. 'I asked Nuala to do it in that order,' Elain said as the others gathered round. 'Because you're the foundation, the one who lifts us. You always have been.' My throat tightened unbearably, and I squeezed her hand in answer. Mor, Cauldron bless her, shouted, 'Make a wish and let us get to the presents!”

“Rhys opened my present carefully, lifting the painting so the others wouldn't see it. I watched his eyes rove over what was on it. Watched his throat bob. 'Tell me that's not your new pet,' Cassian said, having snuck behind me to peer at it I shoved him away. 'Snoop.' Rhys face remained solemn, his eyes star-bright as they met mine. 'Thank you.' The others continued on a tad more loudly- to give us privacy in that crowded room. 'I have no idea where you might hang it,' I said, 'but I wanted you to have it.' To see. For on that painting, I'd shown him what I had not revealed to anyone. What the Ouroboros had revealed to me: the creature inside myself, the creature full of hate and regret and love and sacrifice, the creature that could be cruel and brave, sorrowful and joyous. I gave him me- as no one but him would ever see me. No one but him would ever understand. 'It's beautiful,' he said, voice still hoarse. I blinked away the tears that threatened at those words and leaned into the kiss he pressed to my mouth. You are beautiful, he whispered down the bond. So are you. I know. I laughed, pulling away. Prick.”

“Accidents happen in the Rite, I'd only suggested when Cass's face had tightened with the news. We won't dishonour the Rite by tampering with it, was his only reply. Accidents happen in the skies all the time, then, Azriel had coolly countered. If the whelp wants to bust my balls, he can grow a pair himself and do it to my face, Cassian had growled, and that was that.”

“Azriel straightened a sagging section of garland over the windowsill. 'It's almost like you two tried to make it as ugly as possible.' Cassian clutched at his heart. 'We take offense to that.' Azriel sighed at the ceiling. 'Poor Az,' I said, pouring myself another glass. 'Wine will make you feel better.' He glared at me, then the bottle, then Cassian... and finally stormed across the room, took the bottle from my hand, and chugged the rest. Cassian grinned with delight. Mostly because Rhys drawled from the doorway, 'Well, at least now I know who's drinking all my good wine. Want another one, Az?' Azriel nearly spewed the wine into the fire, but made himself swallow and turn, red-faced, to Rhys. 'I would like to explain-' Rhys laughed, the rich sound bouncing off the carved oak moldings of the room. 'Five centuries, and you think I don't know that if my wine's gone, Cassian's usually behind it?' Cassian raised his glass in a salute. Rhys surveyed the room and chuckled. 'I can tell exactly which ones you two did, and which ones Azriel tried to fix before I got here.' Azriel was indeed now rubbing his temple. Rhys lifted a brow at me. 'I expected better from an artist.”

“A present. Wrapped in black crepe paper and tied with silver thread. And beside it, smiling down at me, was Rhys. He'd propped his head on a fist, his wings draped across the bed behind him. 'Happy birthday, Feyre darling.' I groaned. 'How are you smiling after all that wine?' 'I didn't have a whole bottle to myself, that's how.”

“Your turn. A thought for a thought. He pressed a kiss to my stomach, right over my navel. 'Have I told you about the first time you winnowed and tackled me into the snow?' I smacked his shoulder, the muscle beneath hard as stone. 'That's your thought for a thought?' He smiled against my stomach, his fingers still exploring, coaxing. 'You tackled me like an Illyrian. Perfect form, a direct hit. But then you lay on top of me, panting. All I wanted to do was get us both naked.' 'Why am I not surprised?' Yet I threaded my fingers through his hair. The fabric of my dressing gown was barely more than cobwebs between us as he huffed a laugh onto my belly. I hadn't bothered putting on anything beneath. 'You drove me out of my mind. All those months. I still don't quite believe I get to have this. Have you.' My throat tightened. That was the thought he wanted to trade, needed to share. 'I wanted you, even Under the Mountain,' I said softly. 'I chalked it up to those horrible circumstances, but after we killed her, when I couldn't tell anyone how I felt- about how truly bad things were, I still told you. I've always been able to talk to you. I think my heart knew you were mine long before I ever realised it.' His eyes gleamed, and he buried his face between my breasts again, hands caressing my back. 'I love you,' he breathed. 'More than life, more than my territory, more than my crown.' I knew. He'd given up that life to reforge the Cauldron, the fabric of the world itself, so I might survive. I hadn't had it in me to be furious with him about it afterward, or in the months since. He'd lived- it was a gift I would never stop being grateful for. And in the end, though, we'd saved each other. All of us had. I kissed the top of his head. 'I love you,' I whispered onto his blue-black hair.”