#rhysand and his cronies get murdered

[toast-com]

The Death of Night (3-13-23)

"It's over Tamlin." Rhysand sneered at the Lord of Spring, as the Inner Circle stood behind him, ready to back their High Lord if need be. "You've lost, I've won." The Lord of Night smirked. "Although, I must admit, this game was fun." Tamlin didn't rise to the bait, merely staring past Rhysand and at Cassian. None of the Inner Circle knew it yet, but the grounds of Rosehall would be their resting place.

Cassian coughed, finding it hard to breathe. Was the air thin? He could've sworn it hadn't been a moment before... Rhysand was too caught up in his gloating to the air around the Illyrian general was... thinning. He coughed again, a bright splatter of blood coating his palm. Alarmed, he looks up, meeting Tamlin's eyes.

"I'll have to admit Rhysand," The Lord of Spring's voice is measured, quiet. "I do find it...amusing, to be frank."

"Amusing?" Rhysand arches a black brow. "In what way is your defeat amusing?" At that, Tamlin chuckles, the sound eerie.

"Defeat? Rhysand..." Tamlin's eyes are vicious and feral, glowing iridescent with the tempest of the immense power within him. He cocks his head, the gesture unsettling, inhuman. "You've been the unwitting prey this whole time, stumbling into a trap."

Behind Rhysand, Cassian makes a pained cry as he feels his lungs rupture within his body. Blood bubbles out of his mouth, and his heart begins to beat at a manic, frenzied pace, tearing itself apart. The Illyrian general falls to the ground with a thud, blood still seeping out his mouth. Azriel launches himself at the Lord of Spring, dagger raised. The shadow-singer explodes to pieces a moment later, body parts and gore falling to the ground.

"Tamlin!" Rhysand watches as Mor begins to shriek in fear as thorns burst through her skin, blooming into blood-red roses. She collapses to the floor in a heap of bloodied stems and limbs. Amren's eyes flash silver, but the ancient creature is pulverized by the very atmosphere itself, reduced to a bloody smear on the soil.

In a fit of rage Rhysand calls upon the darkness, but before he can act, Tamlin lunges at him, in his beast form, pinning the Lord of Night beneath him. His jaws clamp around Rhysand's throat, and his claws dig deep furrows into Rhysand's chest. Rhysand struggles, as Tamlin rips a bloody hole in his torso, exposing the fae's beating heart.

"You say you are the most powerful High Lord in the history of Prythian," Tamlin's voice is guttural and beastly. "But you bleed the same as any of us." With a single, vicious motion, Tamlin rips Rhysand's heart out, piercing the organ with his claws.

[oohnoniall]

A Court of Fire and Ice {Tamlin x OC} - Chapter 4

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Warnings: Tamlin is being portrayed as he is in ACOMAF and ACOWAR. Trigger warnings include fantasy violence, misogyny, swearing, and Tamlin being an uncontrollable rage beast (no domestic violence !!)

        He felt as though he could hear the clanging of blades from the safety of his office. He could certainly hear her shouting at herself whenever she made a mistake through the bond. He wondered who in the hell had thought hearing each other would be a good idea. It had just kept him from signing what documents he had needed to.

        He realized that he could not concentrate, not as he wanted to. Slowly, he made his way to the window. Peering out to see her, standing with his guards. Those that had been told to protect Feyre, to protect Rosehall. He had no idea how she had managed to convince them to allow her to train with them. He didn't know how she had learned when they trained.

        Though they were far from the house, he could still see her rather well. His sight was more advanced than any mere mortal's. He slightly wondered if it was more than a normal Fae's. Did the beast give him additional advantages? It wasn't something he liked to ponder. He would rather keep that side of him locked away. He didn't want anyone knowing that his family had been right.

        He was nothing but a beast.

        Lyriel, however, looked almost god-like as she stood in the middle of the circle. Her undone hair whipping wildly around her face, her eyes staring daggers into one of his men. A dagger in one hand and a sword in the other. He wondered briefly if she had trained to use her blades however she could. Or if she just liked how pointy they were.

        She lunged then, using the dagger to catch the guard off guard. He barely managed to get away, a slight nick appearing on his neck. Lyriel did not stop, her movements a deadly dance. She would block with her dagger or use it to create a distraction while using the sword to attack. Where in the hell had Kallias been hiding this woman? This weapon.

        Surely there was a reason for her brutality, the war that was brewing in her pine eyes. Her past was a mystery to him.

        He wanted it to remain so.

        Still, there was beauty in her destruction. He noticed how she breathed as she moved. Exhaling with a lunge, keeping her spine straighter than the sword she held in her hand. He wondered what it would take for her to break. Would he even want to see that?

        The guard managed to land a blow, his blade slicing into her left bicep.

        A growl began to form in Tamlin's stomach, his body reacting to the idea of another man harming the one person that he was meant to protect. He shoved it down. As far down as he possibly could. Yet, the slightest sound escaped him. At least it hadn't been a roar.

        He had no way of explaining that. A growl at least could have been his displeasure at the woman going against his instruction.

        "Tam." 

        The voice made him start. How in the hell had he missed them coming into the office? How long had they been watching him? His focus on Lyriel was far too distracting.

        Tamlin turned then, his green eyes narrowing as he looked over at Lucien. His friend was trying to hide a smirk. Trying and failing. And humans thought that the Fae were a tricky bunch. They were just assholes who could barely hide their amusement. Especially when it came to those they cared for.

        "Yes, Lucien?" He questioned, moving to sit back at his desk. The picture of the High Lord that everyone wanted to see. Just not what he had thought it would be.

        "We've received word from Cariaru," he stated casually as he moved to sit in the chair across from Tamlin. His legs went over the side, his metal eye roaming around the room as though he were looking for secrets. For the truths that Tamlin was hiding from everyone.

        "And?" Tamlin set up just a bit. His eyes lighting with a hint of excitement. Cariaru had been their insight into the Night Court ever since they had been freed from Under the Mountain. Her mate was one of Rhysand's inner circle. It had been an opening that they had all deemed somewhat worthy.

        After all, her mate did not seem interested in anyone but Rhysand's blonde cousin.

        "Rhys hasn't said a word about Feyre," Lucien casually looked towards the window, his metal eye stopping there. "But he is reaching out to other Lords. No doubt trying to do something to repair his reputation. Is Lyriel training?"

        "We'll let him be," he sighed softly, his hair falling into his eyes as he shook his head once. Getting Feyre out of whatever deal the two had made was much more important to him than Rhysand making amends or attempting to. They all knew what Rhys had done. What he was probably going to continue doing if he was given the chance. "Yes, I don't know who in the hell told her when they meet."

        "This is what happens when you steal soldiers. They tend to train." Lucien almost grinned at his friend, a twinkle in his russet eye. "Now, why did you steal her? Don't give me that emissary shit. She's no courtier."

        "That's all this is, Lucien." He did not find it hard to lie to his best friend. He knew that he should. He knew that he should hate himself for not sharing this with someone. But he just couldn't. He couldn't let anyone know about the horrible truth. He didn't want Feyre, most of all, to realize that they would never be a mated pair. They could love each other, they always would, but he would never be the man that was meant for her.

        Maybe it was selfish. Maybe it was him being controlling. He didn't know. He didn't really care either. He and Feyre had been through the worst. No one else in this world could possibly understand what they had gone through.

        After all, no one else had stabbed him through the heart before.

        "Of course it is," his friend's eyes narrowed, a smirk playing on his face. If it were not for the scar on his face, Tamlin was certain that Lucien would have been the one that made people stop and stare. He still did. Just not for the reasons Tamlin wanted. "You were about to jump through the window when I came in. Did someone hurt her?"

        Lucien was too perceptive for his own good. It made Tamlin's stomach hurt. How would he explain this? How in the hell had he been careless enough to let Lucien figure this whole thing out? It didn't seem fair that he was struggling this hard. After everything, it should have been a closed book. The happily ever after should have played out. Instead, it seemed as though life was determined to drag out the difficulties. It seemed as though he was taking blow after blow. 

        "No," he was lying too much. He knew it would start to appear in his scent if he kept this damn thing out. "I'm just annoyed that she ignored me."

        "She's not your soldier, Tam."

        "She's in my court. That should count for something." Shouldn't it?

        "Something tells me that Lye listens to herself and no one else." The grin on his face was enough to make Tamlin's stomach twist in a very unpleasant way. Had something happened between the pair? Or was he just overreacting?

        "Lye?" His eyebrow twitched up slightly. "Since when do you have nicknames for strangers?"

        Lucien shrugged his broad shoulders. "She's not that strange. Besides, if she's going to be here for a while we might as well be friendly."

        The way he said it made Tamlin see red. He knew that Lucien would not do anything if he asked him to. But the thought that his friend might be looking at her at all made him want to kill him. Damn possessiveness. He had thought he was bad enough when it came to Feyre. But this was something new entirely.

        Even when Lucien had tried to kill Feyre, he had not been this upset. Although, that was also before he had fallen in love with the woman. The whole thing was a little convoluted and he didn't like to think of it too much.

        "Not too friendly, Lucien," he tried to sound casual, less tense as he spoke. "I don't need a child running around Rosehall just yet." He wanted to throw up as the words left his mouth. He hoped that his face did not give anything away. 

        "Calm down, Tamlin," he laughed lightly, brushing off whatever mood that his friend may have been in. "You know that I'm not that type of man."

        He shoved down the feelings of anger that were building in him, the feeling of his claws pressing against his fingernails. Keeping them inside hurt him more than he ever could explain. He didn't know why. His beast form had been so close to the surface for years, constantly fighting it back. Fighting to keep it down, keep it repressed. Just like everything.

        The Spring Court was beautiful but that didn't stop demons from plaguing his mind.

        You're yelling, the voice spoke before he had any chance to respond to Lucien. It's not helping my concentration.

        I'm not concerned about your concentration right now.

        You should be. I almost skewered one of your men.

        He tried to keep his face neutral, but one of his brows ticked up just slightly. He played it off by coughing, although he was certain that Lucien was staring at him as though he had just murdered someone in front of him. That or he could see the very voice that was inside of his head.

        Could Lucien do that? He knew the metal eye could see more than they knew, but surely it could not penetrate the mind. But what if? What if Lucien was drawing this out? What if he knew all along about this whole situation but had kept it to himself?

        "Send word to Cariaru," he coughed once more, trying to hide the tension in his voice. "I want more info on Rhysand's movements. Tell her to keep up with that shadowsinger as well. We haven't heard shit about him since she left us."         

        It frustrated him that they knew next to nothing about those in Rhysand's court. They knew his two cronies, Azriel and Cassian, but they didn't know enough. Not about their movements. Not about their plans. If this girl was the one way they could get that information, he would use her for all that she was worth. He just hoped they could bring her home before she wound up getting caught.

        Even she would not be able to hide from her mate forever.

        "She might be unwilling to give us any information about him," Lucien spoke gently, the truth of it was it might be more dangerous to spy on Azriel than it was to spy on Rhysand.

        "She'll do it. For the Spring Court," he said with a slight nod of his head. Even if he knew that he was potentially sending her to her death. He had faith in the girl. He knew she wouldn't get in over her head. At least, he hoped that she wouldn't.

        His conscious couldn't take any more failures.

        "I'll send word," Lucien moved to stand, his eyes roving to the window again. "Lyriel seems capable."

        Lucien turned on his heel and slipped out of the room without being dismissed. Tamlin wondered if he did that just to be annoying or if he had more pressing matters to attend to. Keeping an eye on their spy was somewhat important after all. Even if he did not think it should be the most important thing in the world right now.

        After all, he was in his own personal hell and no one seemed to notice. Well, no one but the woman who seemed to be in his mind. He had always thought he would never have to deal with that part of a bond. His parents had certainly never acted as though they could hear each other.

        It had to be another curse from the Mother. This whole thing seemed to be designed as a hell for Tamlin Rosehall. It made him sick to know that he had no chance of figuring any of this out. If he did, maybe he wouldn't be so pissed about the whole situation.

        Tamlin tried to focus on his correspondence once more, his eyes blurring as the words poured from his pen. Words weren't easy to come by. He'd been good at lewd poetry, but that had never translated to giving the other Lords updates about the Spring Court. Nor was he good at telling anyone he needed anything. There was a lot he would rather keep to himself. His dealings in his Court was one thing he wanted to keep to himself.

        He didn't need anyone knowing that he was still trying like hell to rebuild. Didn't want them to know that he was struggling to keep the people's faith in him.

        The only thing that kept the faith anymore was Feyre. It was another reason why he had to keep her safe, keep her protected. If he lost her he would lose himself. And the support of his people.

        It made him sick just to think of it.

        He blinked slowly, his eyes focusing on the words that had bled through the pages. When he didn't focus, he often forgot his own strength. When he allowed himself to fall into his thoughts he often forgot that he was stronger than most. That he needed to focus just to keep from breaking everything. Tamlin hated this. Hated being so different from everyone.

        It was a far cry from the life he had once dreamed of. He would never get to play the fiddle in a traveling band. But perhaps he would be able to play more often now. Things were calming down. Although, he was certain that Hybern would not allow the slaying of their greatest general to go unpunished.

        He supposed it was luck that the fae were so slow to change, to revenge. There was more time to plan, more time to figure out how to keep his people safe. Even if just thinking about it made him sick to his stomach.

        A soft grunt brought him out of his thoughts. The scent of evergreen, frozen berries, and blood filled the room, making something within him roar with the need to protect, to hold. To do something that would risk everything that he had built. He had to stifle that voice, had to shove it as far down as he possibly could. If only to keep his Court from falling into shambles.

        "How did you find out about training?" Tamlin questioned without looking up from his letters.

        "I just stuck around the barracks." She slid into the seat that Lucien had been in only an hour before. "Your general seemed amused to see a woman fighting."

        He looked up at her then, taking in her hair that was windswept. He could see the tangles, the small braids at her temple to keep some of it back. Her brow was dotted with sweat, her pulse beating rapidly enough to make him shift in his seat. There were purple bags underneath her eyes, she looked at though she had not slept. Despite this, her eyes were bright. The joy was something he had not seen from her before. Something he doubted he would see many times in their lives. The cut on her bicep had healed, nothing but a pink line on her snow-like skin.

        She did, however, have another cut on her left cheek that was still freely bleeding.

        Tamlin wanted to find the man who had done it to her. He wanted to find him and rip him limb from limb. How dare he lay a single finger on Lyriel? How dare anyone touch her without his express permission? Even if he would never give it to anyone.

        "You shouldn't be fighting," he repeated his words from the night before. "How long were you at the barracks?"

        "As soon as you left me last night." Lyriel shrugged her shoulders casually as she relaxed in the chair. "I doubted anyone would go against your wishes."

        "Yet you did."

        "You're not my High Lord," she pointed out with a quirk of her lips. "Besides, I thought I might keep things interesting between us. It'll help keep us from ... Accepting things."

        He could tell that she felt awkward just speaking those words. He knew that he felt the same way. He didn't want to deal with the beast inside of him but neither did he wish to deal with the thought of Lyriel. He would pick the beast over her any day.

        "You're still a guest in my Court," he pointed out with a sigh. Tamlin wondered if that meant anything to her. "That does mean you need to act with a bit of decorum. Or respect."

        It was the way that she shrugged her shoulders that made the smile burst from his lips. She had an air that he didn't know if he liked or not, but it was definitely amusing. More than it should have been.

        "Honestly, you can't expect me to change myself. You're marrying someone else, I'm going back to the Winter Court soon enough. I don't see any of this going the way it's supposed to." Her words were far less amusing than her actions.

        "How is supposed to go?" He prayed to the Mother she didn't say a damn word about his wedding. How could that be wrong? He and Feyre belonged together. The curse wouldn't have broken otherwise.

        "According to the Mother and the Cauldron and whoever else decided to fuck us," Lyriel began to play with one of the daggers that lined her body. He briefly wondered how many she had. "We're supposed to be the ones that are ... Involved." Her brow furrowed as she spoke, forming a crease between what he assumed would have been her eyebrows. They were so light that he wondered if they had ever grown.

        Had Kallias faced this same issue? Why was he focused so much on her eyebrows? The imperfection of them reminded him that she was real. Not just a figment of his imagination. 

        "You do know you can use the proper words, right?" Tamlin looked away from the crease and her not-there eyebrows. He looked instead into her eyes. The green that was a weird mix of light and dark. Iced over and yet fierce enough to burn him if she tried to do so.

        "That makes it far too real." Lyriel shifted once in her seat, the scent of blood becoming stronger as she moved.

        His stomach lurched with the urge to protect her, to bind her wound and make damn sure that no one would ever get that close to her again. Even if he knew that it was stupid. They were not going to do anything of the sort. Risking what he had built was not his intention. He knew that Lyriel was not worth it. Even if she was a high-ranking member of the Winter Court, no one could beat Feyre.

        Feyre's light shone brighter than any of theirs. He knew that she would outshine all of them for the rest of her life. He just hoped that he would get to be the one to stand beside her.

        He would be. He didn't care what he had to do to make sure of it.

        "What do you expect me to do, Lyriel?" Tamlin sighed softly as he looked away from her, not daring to show her how much he was contemplating his decisions. Or how much he wasn't. "Throw the Cursebreaker away? I can't do that."

        "Because you love her or because your Court needs her?" She knew how to cut him to the core. He wondered if she did this with everyone or if it was just because of the bond they were supposed to share.

        "Both," he would not lie about this. There was no reason. "She sacrificed herself to save me. Surely you understand that."

        "I do." The way she said it made him think that she did not. "I just don't quite understand why I'm here."

        "A show of good faith?" Tamlin did not believe his own words for a moment. "Kallias wouldn't have been pleased if the Winter Court had been excluded from the festivities."

        "He wouldn't have given a shit." 

        "Have you spoken to him?" If she had, maybe there was more use in having her stick around.

        She shifted once more, clearly uncomfortable with the question. "My Lord may give us orders from time to time but that doesn't mean I speak to him."

        So that was out of the question. What good was she if she could not even guarantee him the Winter Courts favor? Why did he need her around? He didn't know the answer to his questions. But he knew that he could not just throw her away. Not until he figured out how to rid himself of this bond. For good.

        "Go clean yourself, Lyriel." He did not watch as she slipped out of the room. He didn't want to see her leave.

[tessalivesandbreathesbooks]

Love at Last

Hope you like it :D

Love as Last is an AU set in the human world where you’re going to find characters from both, ACOTAR and ToG. You’ll learn the life and struggles of the characters as the story progresses.

Chapter 9 (AO3)

Nesta’s POV      

Nesta grunted in frustration. She had been staring at the same page of her book for nearly an hour and the worst part was that it had been all for nothing. She couldn’t understand what it said. In fact, she hadn’t been able to make it past the first paragraph. No matter how hard she tried lately she couldn’t concentrate on what she was doing and she felt as if were staring at a paper full of hieroglyphs, full of words with no meaning at all.

And what made her even more annoyed was the reason why she was like this. She would never admit it out loud to anyone, but … she knew it had something to do with that jerk she had met the other day.

That boy had become her obsession. She couldn’t help but be observant all the time, on the lookout for that boy with those startling amber eyes and that annoying smirk.

She obviously hadn’t believed him when he had told her they would meet again. And yet … here she sat at the library making sure every boy who walked by wasn’t him.

Nesta closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose frustrated at her own stupidity. She didn’t want to be like this … she didn’t want to become one of those obnoxious girls who fell in love and became dumb idiots. She was Nesta Archeron, a girl most were afraid of for her fiery temper and icy demeanour. She couldn’t … no, she wouldn’t be reduced to that. Especially not for a boy she was sure she would never see again.

Nesta stood up and closed her textbook.  She wasn’t going to make any progress here as the whole place was teeming with distractions. If she was going to waste time, she might as well do it at home on more important things. Like YouTube or TV.

Nesta quickly gathered her belongings and left the place. The library was relatively close to her house and it only took her 15 minutes to get there. She didn’t have the tendency to go though. She preferred the solitude and quietness of her room rather than the constant bickering of other students, but for once she had decided to try it out of pure desperation.

Because she couldn’t stop thinking about that stupid boy with that stupid smirk and his stupid words.

Haven’t you considered that maybe I am trying to flirt with you because I like you? That the only reason I’m talking to you is because I am clearly interested in you?

This isn’t over, just so you know.

I’m going to make you fall in love with me.

Nesta shuddered. He had been lying obviously. He had been making fun of her. He had only been seeking for some girl to play with and she had fallen right into her trap. And yet …

I haven’t flirted with anyone else by the way. Not today, not a week ago. Just you.

For some reason she wanted it to be real. She wanted to know how that feel.

Nesta startled as she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. She picked it out only to see a message from Feyre popping up in the screen.

Feyre: When are you coming home?

Give me two more minutes. I’m on my way. Is everything alright? Do you need anything?

Feyre hardly ever messaged her unless she needed something. Or something unusual had happened or needed to be fixed. Nesta frowned.

Feyre: Nothing. I’ll just wait for you here.

Nesta stared at her phone shaking her head. She didn’t know what to make of that. She was completely sure something was up, but she didn’t know what. Not that it mattered: if it bothered her sister, she would deal with it, she would do whatever it took to make the problem disappear.

She quickened her pace, walking swiftly through the streets crowded with people as the sun disappeared through the horizon. She saw her house in the distance and ran straight to it. She took her keys out of her pocket and quickly unlocked the door.

“Feyre?” She asked while she closed the front door behind her and left her bag on the floor. She looked around, but nothing seemed out of order. There was only silence in the house so she asked again, “Feyre? Are you in here?”

“Nesta?” Feyre’s footsteps sounded upstairs before she came into view. She looked down at her, something like nervousness all over her expression. “Hi.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes as she surveyed her sister. Something was off. “Is everything alright?”

Feyre nodded. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t everything be alright?”

Nesta shrugged. “No idea. That’s why I asked.”

Feyre bit her lip. Nesta just looked at her, bracing herself for whatever that was about to come off her mouth. It seemed like an eternity before Feyre stammered, “okay, look. I need to ask you something.”

Nesta looked straight at her and nodded. “Go ahead then.”

Feyre gulped. “Would … would you go out with me and … and a friend tonight?”

Nesta blinked. She hadn’t been expecting that. “Tonight?”

Feyre nodded and Nesta frowned. “Tomorrow we have classes. As much as I’d love to go out and spend the night out partying, I don’t think it’s wise.”

“It’s not a party … it’s a small concert. It shouldn’t take longer than two hours. We’d get home before 9-10 PM.”

Nesta opened her mouth then closed it again. She stared at her sister quietly before shaking her head. “Feyre … I don’t know.”

Feyre grimaced. “Please, Nesta. I need you to come.”

Nesta arched her brow. “What do you mean you need me to come?”

Feyre bit her lip and shook her head. “It’s … complicated.”

“Complicated as in?”

“Complicated as in if Tamlin or any of his cronies sees her out enjoying herself with someone as dazzling and as gracious as me, they might get the wrong idea and who knows the punishment they might have in store for her.”

Nesta startled at the sound of Rhysand’s voice. He had appeared right next to Feyre, a shadow ready to strike. Nesta shook her head and growled. “What on earth are you doing here?”

He smirked. “Feyre darling let me in so slow your rockets, Archeron.”

Nesta stared at her sister and crossed her arms, waiting for an explanation.  Feyre merely glared at Rhysand who shrugged in return. She then turned to me and said. “Things have … changed over the course of these two weeks.”

“What do you mean changed?”

Feyre just shook her head. “Rhysand and I are friends I guess.”

Rhysand laughed softly by her side. “You guess?”

Feyre simply ignored him. “Today’s been rather rough for me and he proposed we could go out to a concert in which some of his friends are playing. I think it’d be fun, but I need you to come so that if someone finds out, I can say I was with you and not with him.”

Nesta shook her head. “Because Tamlin would freak out?”

Feyre grimaced while Rhysand said quietly. “You know he wouldn’t only freak out.”

Nesta gulped. That she knew. If Tamlin found out Rhysand and Feyre were friends … the consequences for her sister would be terrible. “Are you sure this is worth it?”

“Going out? Yeah, actually I -”

“No, I meant befriending Rhysand.” Nesta then looked at Rhysand. “I don’t mean to sound offensive, but you’re probably the person Tamlin hates the most. If anyone ever saw you two interacting or acknowledging each other you would certainly suffer the consequences, Feyre.”

Feyre’s face paled slightly. She knew what she had done was a low blow, but Feyre needed to consider what she was getting into because if Tamlin ever found it … he would certainly see it as a affront and the mere thought of what he would do made her blood run cold.

Rhysand’s expression had become distant, cold … worried as if he were truly concerned for her sister. And maybe he was. She still remembered his last words to her that day in the parking lot.

I’d sooner kill Tamlin than see her hurt.

Maybe he hadn’t been lying. Maybe he would truly murder Tamlin if her sister’s life was at stake. And maybe that made him a better option than Tamlin.

Finally, her sister spoke breaking the silence. “I don’t care what Tamlin says, he can’t choose for me. This is my life, my choices and I should be the one to make them. Rhysand is my friend, he has proven that to me and I don’t care what the rest of the world says. They can go to hell for all I care.”

Feyre’s expression had turned fierce and her eyes were burning with intensity when Nesta looked at them. It’s been a while since she had last seen Feyre look so vivid, so alive and … Nesta felt relieved. Relieved because despite all that was happening to her, Feyre was still her sister. And if Rhysand was the one giving her the strength to keep on … she wouldn’t take him away from her.

So Nesta smiled wickedly and said, “then screw it. Let’s go.”

Velaris was a rather small locale, but it was bursting with life. It was impressive the number of people that fit in such a limited space. There was a group of people chattering in the corner and a couple kissing near the toilet. You had a bunch of veterans playing cards in one table and a group of girls ogling several boys that were near the bar. The whole place felt right somehow, quiet in spite of all the gathering people. Nesta wondered how it was possible they had never been here before, how it was possible that they had missed it.

Rhysand was walking ahead with his arm linked with Feyre’s. He was whispering something in Feyre’s ear Nesta couldn’t hear, but that made Feyre smile. She had been shocked when Feyre had told her she and Rhysand were friends, but after seeing both of them talk during the car ride here … she understood. They were two sides of the same leaf … they felt right together. Just by seeing them walk you could see there was something in them that fit and Nesta was glad Feyre had found someone like him, that she had given Rhysand a chance in a moment when she so desperately needed a friend.

Suddenly, Feyre turned to her, a soft smile on her lips and asked, “where do you want to sit?”

Nesta shrugged. “We could just hang by the counter I guess.”

Feyre nodded and she and Rhysand started to go straight to the bar, but before they could make it a step a high pitched voice from the back screamed, “Rhys! Over here!”

Nesta turned to find Mor waving at them from one of the tables. When she saw Feyre and Rhysand together she narrowed her eyes and her face went from enthusiastic to incredulous.

Feyre smiled and waved while Rhysand went to talk to her cousin. Nesta just stood there, watching as Mor hugged Rhysand and a knowing smile started to appear on her face. Nesta laughed softly and she leaned in to whisper to Feyre. “Look at that, you managed to surprise Mor.”

Feyre snorted. “I guess I did.”

Nesta shook her head softly, her expression turning serious when she asked. “Did anyone know about this or were you truly going to keep it from everyone?”

Feyre’s smile vanished and she lowered her gaze a bit as she said, “I didn’t want to get you involved, I guess. In case anything happened and Tamlin found out.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “If Tamlin ever found out he wouldn’t care whether I knew or not and you know that.”

Feyre stayed quiet as she watched Rhysand talking quietly to her cousin. Nesta looked at her sister and added softly. “You don’t owe me an explanation. Honestly, I’m glad you’re talking to someone right now. I just wish you’d trust me enough to tell me. That’s all.”

Feyre blinked and opened her mouth to answer then closed it. She finally said. “I didn’t mean it that way. I trust you, Nesta.”

Nesta arched her brow and Feyre kept on. “Rhysand and I became friends in a rather strange way. One day he confronted about the project and the solution Tamlin had imposed to prevent us from talking and it lead to a big argument where both of us said pretty mean things. But he … apologised and for some mysterious reason when he asked me to become his friend I said yes.” Feyre laughed softly and continued. “He texted me that night and from there on we exchanged lots of messages and just … talked. I think I needed that. You are my sister and I know you are there for me and that you love me, but … for some reason Rhysand just gets me better that anyone else. I feel understood when I’m with him. And … I know this whole situation is hurting you, Nesta. And I hate to see you suffering because of me. I didn’t want to add more pressure to your back.”

Nesta shook her head. “Don’t make it sound as if I consider you a burden.”

“I know you don’t, but I can’t help but feel I am.”

“Well, don’t because you are not. I thought we had cleared that up the other day. You can always talk to me Feyre, always. Ask me anything and I’ll do it. That’s what sisters are for. That’s what family is for.”

Feyre looked sideways at her and smiled. “That reminds me … you never got to tell me about that mysterious boy.”

Nesta blushed slightly and said. “Don’t change the subject, we aren’t talking about me.”

Feyre snorted. She opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted by a low voice behind them. “I told you we would meet again, wildcat.”

Nesta’s heart stopped dead in her chest and for a moment she was rendered speechless. It was her sister the one who arched her brow and asked, “and you are?”

Cassian smirked and held out his hand. “I’m Cassian, the mysterious boy. Nice to meet you.”

Feyre’s mouth fell open. Nesta looked at him and she blushed slightly. She managed to get out, “what are you doing here?”

Cassian took his hand back and lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “My brother is replacing one of the members of a band that’s going to play afterwards. And,” he added as he jerked his head in the direction of Rhysand and Mor who were still chatting by the table, “I’ve come to see those two.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “You know Rhysand?”

Cassian smirked and nodded. “For quite a while actually.”

Feyre snorted and Nesta turned her head to look at her. Feyre was staring at her, something like mix of amusement, relief and wickedness crossing over her features. All of a sudden, she muttered. “Well, Cassian, it was awesome to meet you. I have to go talk to Rhysand and Mor, but why don’t you and Nesta stay here to talk for a bit? It seems both of you have some catch-up to do.”

And Nesta stared in disbelief as her sister took one last look at her, winked and staggered towards Rhysand and Mor leaving her wholly alone.

She was going to kill her.

No, she was going to have her tortured and then she’d kill her. Slowly.

Cassian laughed softly. “I think I like your sister.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Cassian smiled. Then he glanced over at her and said, “you look amazing by the way.”

Nesta felt herself blushing in embarrassment. She was wearing some tight jeans and a sleeveless V-neck black blouse that sterilized her figure, making her look slimmer and older. She didn’t answer immediately, making Cassian smile knowingly. “I missed you, Nesta.”

Nesta looked sideways at him. “We met a few weeks ago. We have only talked once.”

“I guess you had a profound impact upon my person.”

Nesta glared at him and Cassian smirked wickedly. She sighed in exasperation. “Can’t you stop flirting for a second? Please?”

Cassian shook his head in amusement. “Okay, as you wish. What don’t you tell me where,” he continued, jerking his thumb toward Rhysand and Mor, who were currently talking to her sister and another guy she didn’t know, “you met those two.”

Nesta sighed. “Mor is one of my best friends at school. And Rhysand … well, I’m not sure where we stand right now.”

Cassian laughed. “Rhysand isn’t one for first impressions. Give him a few days though and he’ll win you over.”

Nesta raised her brow. “Like you are?”

At that, Cassian’s smile turned devilish. He looked at her, intently, his amber eyes burning like fire and making her insides melt.  Nesta looked away quickly and changed the subject, “do you know who’s that guy who’s with them now?”

“That’s my brother, Azriel.”

“He seems to like Mor.” And Mor seems to like him back, she thought, but she didn’t say it out loud. She was standing really close to him and in spite of the distance, Nesta could see her eyes gleaming with happiness and devotion. She couldn’t read Azriel, but from the look of it, the spark in his eyes, his soft smiles … she didn’t think Mor was the only one infatuated.

Cassian nodded. “He does. He has for a year, ever since they met.”

“Then why isn’t he … doing anything?”

Cassian smiled softly. “Not everyone has my flirting skills, wildcat.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “What flirting skills?”

Cassian chuckled. “That’s my girl, right through the heart.”

It was Nesta turned to smile. Suddenly, Mor noticed her and she started to wave her hand wildly in her direction. Nesta waved back and said. “We should go with them.”

Cassian just stared at her as she walked straight to the crowd to say hi to her friend.

“Again, I told you, that was not my fault!”

Nesta, as well as everyone else at the table, roared with laughter. Feyre was the only one who managed to stay reign herself enough to ask. “Then who was it?”

Mor was shaking her head, laughing so hard little streams of salty tears started running down her cheeks. “Do you think I know? I woke up, utterly naked in Erin’s garden with his parents looking down at me. If I had known who had done that to me, I’d have made him pay already!”

Nesta shook her head and smiled broadly and without restraints. She hadn’t enjoyed herself so much in a really long time. She hadn’t felt this good in a really long time. “Well, what are you waiting for them?”

Mor punched her by the side. “Will you help me? Because I need some backup. Every heroine needs some backup.”

“I’m not backup. I’m bloody dynamite. A wave of destruction at your service.”

Another round of laughter followed that statement. Rhysand and Feyre started to talk to each other and Nesta witnessed her sister’s face soften. She could see something was going on between those two, something maybe they weren’t ready to acknowledge yet, but … that they would when the time was right.

Nesta started to get up. “I’m going to order another beer. Does anyone want anything?”

Mor turned to her. “Can you bring me another one for me too?”

Nesta shook her head. “Mor, you’ve had four already.”

Rhysand interceded. “Are you sure the whole waking-naked-in-the-garden situation wasn’t your fault, sweet cousin?”

Mor’s head turned and she started to bicker again with Rhysand, whose wicked smile suggested he was enjoying himself.

Nesta just got up and started to walk towards the counter, but suddenly she felt someone grabbing her by the arm. It was Cassian who had started to get up as well. “Wait, let me go with you.”

Nesta just nodded as he got up and started to make his way through the crowd of people. Several people turned their heads to say something to him, to pat him on the back or to give him a high-five and Cassian always found something to say in return that made them smile. Cassian was such an outgoing person, good-humoured and easy to be with. They haven’ talked much after that first conversation, but she had seen him talk in the group: his easy way of talking to Mor, his constant bickering with Rhysand, his jokes with his brother, his direct but respectful way of speaking to her sister … and she realised, a little belatedly, that her sister wasn’t the only one who was starting to feel confusing things.

Cassian nudged at her and asked. “So, are you having a good time?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

Cassian didn’t say anything else and she sighed. Maybe … maybe she could try too. “Ehhh …  and you?”

“And me, what?”

“Are you having a good time?”

Cassian smiled, pleased. “Yeah. It’s been a while since I last laughed this much actually.”

Nesta arched her brow and he simply shook his head. “It’s a long story.”

Nesta looked at him and somehow … she understood. Sometimes there things you just didn’t want to talk about because they hurt and they did no good when you wanted to forget. She simply said, “I’m glad you’re better now. And … if you ever need someone to talk about it, I’m here for you. If … if you want.”

He looked at her then, his eyes a bright gold that shone in the dimness of the room as he smiled, making the rest of the world disappear. Nesta’s heart started to race wildly in her chest and she felt vibrant with an emotion she couldn’t identify. Their eyes locked and she was so focused on Cassian that she startled when she heard someone else snort by her side.

“Look at that, it seems our top player has a new toy to play with. Interesting.”

Nesta turned her head to find another man staring down at her. He was clearly checking her out, looking at her with such insolence she felt the urge to bristle. “I thought you preferred them blond. Although I have to admit this one is really good. Nice catch.”

Cassian’s eyes burn with impertinence, but it was Nesta the one who said. “First, I’m nobody’s toy and second if you don’t want to get kicked in the balls hard enough to make them fall off I suggest you go annoy another chick with less brains, alright?”

The man looked taken aback for a second before roaring in laughter. He turned over to Cassian. “This one has quite a character.”

Cassian simply glared at him and said, “she means what she says Tomas, you should be more careful.”

Tomas just kept looking at her, making her blush with anger. He smiled with malice as he said. “I like women with character, they make everything more interesting.”

“And bloody. Don’t forget.”

Tomas just laughed. “And your name is?”

“Not your business.”

“Oh, don’t be so dull. I’m sure we could have some great time together. What does Cassian have that I don’t?”

Nesta narrowed her gaze, but it was Cassian the one who said. “Manners. Respect. Beauty. Do you want me to keep going?”

Tomas’s gaze went dark when it collided with Cassian’s. “You think you’re better than me?”

Cassian’s glare was bright with anger as he said, “oh no. I know I’m better than you. And you should go before I decide to kick you out.”

Tomas sneered and his gaze slid back to Nesta. He stared at her, considering. All of a sudden, he took a piece of paper and a pen and began writing something. When he was done he gave her the paper and she heard Cassian growl. His phone number. He was giving her his phone number. “When you are done with this idiot, which you will as soon as he switches you for another girl, call me and I’ll prove to you which one is better.”

Nesta watched him as he walked away, not ever looking back. She turned to Cassian as rage warmed her veins. “What was that about?”

Cassian slid his gaze towards her and she could see everything that was swelling there: anger, exasperation, fury. He took a deep breath and answered. ��It doesn’t matter. Give me the paper and I’ll throw it away.”

Nesta looked at the paper with the phone number. She wasn’t ever going to call Tomas, she knew that. And yet … “Why, are you worried I’ll call him when you’re done playing with me?”

Cassian’s expression morphed from anger to disbelief and then back to anger. “Are you being serious right now? One word from that bastard and you automatically go back to thinking I’m a jerk? I thought we were past that. I didn’t know you were so gullible, Nesta. I’m kind of disappointed.”

Something cracked inside of Nesta and she felt her rage slip out. “Why do you find it so weird when all you’ve done so far is flirt shamelessly and crack jokes every once in a while? What impression should I have of you? Nothing has changed between us. You are still that jerk I met at a restaurant who doesn’t even know how to use his brain.”

Cassian clenched his jaw and muttered. “At least I’m not some spoiled, bad-tempered girl who spits at everyone who’s around her just because she’s afraid of feeling.”

Nesta stared at him as something cold and sharp made her way down her spine and set in her belly making her numb. She shook her head as tears started to gather at the back of her eyes. She said with as much hatred as she could muster.“Go to hell.”

She turned to leave. She needed to leave. She needed to get out of that place or else she would break. But she felt Cassian grabbing her by the arm, pinning her down once more. “Let me go.”

She turned to look at him. He looked pale, his expression hurt and remorseful. “Wait, Nesta. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean -”

“No. Let me go. I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you. Ever again.”

Cassian winced. “Nesta -”

“And if I want to call Tomas, I will. I will do whatever I want because this is my life and I’m not yours. Do you understand?”

At that, Cassian’s expression turned to ice. “You are not calling Tomas. Not now, not ever. Do you understand?” Nesta clenched her jaw. She could feel her snarl on her tongue, but Cassian kept on. “I don’t care if you’re mad at me, I don’t care if you hate me or despise me for it, but I’m not letting you go on a date with Tomas.”

“I’m not asking for your permission.”

“Do you know what he likes to do?” Cassian’s eyes were burning with hatred as he said. “Tomas is a real player. He likes to have sex with girls with or without their consent just to satisfy his own disgusting desires and when he’s done with them or when he gets bored of them, he starts all over again with a new prey. That’s what he does. Do you truly want to get involved with someone like him?”

Nesta was unable to speak. She stared at him, as his eyes melted into liquid gold. She felt weak staring at him and she shook her head. She needed to get away, to stay away. “I’ll do whatever I like. It’s my decision.”

Something flashed in his eyes. “Nesta -”

But she didn’t listen. She just kept walking and this time, he let her go.