different. Better. But only if we start off the right way.”
“I’m not allowing one Night Court brute onto my lands.”
His people despised him enough, it seemed.
And at that word—brute—I had enough. Dangerous territory. For me, at least. To let my own temper get the better of me. At least around him.
I rose from the chair, Tamlin not bothering to stand. “You brought every bit of this upon yourself,” I said, my voice still soft. I didn’t need to yell to convey my rage. I never had.
“You won,” he spat, sitting forward. “You got your mate. Is that not enough?”
“No.”
The word echoed through the library.
“You nearly destroyed her. In every way possible.”
Tamlin bared his teeth. I bared mine back, temper be damned. Let some of my power rumble through the room, the house, the grounds.
“She survived it, though. Survived you. And you still felt the need to humiliate her, belittle her. If you meant to win her back, old friend, that wasn’t the wisest route.”
“Get out.”
I wasn’t finished. Not even close. “You deserve everything that has befallen you. You deserve this pathetic, empty house, your ravaged lands. I don’t care if you offered that kernel of life to save me, I don’t care if you still love my mate. I don’t care that you saved her from Hybern, or a thousand enemies before that.” The words poured out, cold and steady. “I hope you live the rest of your miserable life alone here. It’s a far more satisfying end than slaughtering you.” Feyre had once arrived at the same decision. I’d agreed with her then, still did, but now I truly understood.
Tamlin’s green eyes went feral.
I braced for it, readied for it—wanted it. For him to explode out of that chair and launch himself at me, for his claws to start slashing.
My blood hammered in my veins, my power coiling inside me.
We could wreck this house in our fight. Bring it down to rubble. And then I’d turn the stones and wood into nothing but black dust.
But Tamlin only stared. And after a heartbeat, his eyes lowered to the desk. “Get out.”
I blinked, the only sign of my surprise. “Not in the mood for a brawl, Tamlin?”
He didn’t bother to look at me again. “Get out” was all he said.
A broken male.
Broken, from his own actions, his own choices.
It was not my concern. He did not deserve my pity.
But as I winnowed away, the dark wind ripping around me, a strange sort of hollowness took root in my stomach.
Tamlin didn’t have shields around the house. None to prevent anyone from winnowing in, to guard against enemies appearing in his bedroom and slitting his throat.
It was almost as if he was waiting for someone to do it.
I found Feyre walking home from presumably doing some shopping, a few bags dangling from her gloved hands.
Her smile when I landed beside her, snow whipping around us, was like a fist to my heart.
It faded immediately, however, when she read my face.
Even in the middle of the busy city street, she put a hand to my cheek. “That bad?”
I nodded, leaning into her touch. The most I could manage.
She pressed a kiss to my mouth, her lips warm enough that I realized I’d gone cold.
“Walk home with me,” she said, looping her arm through mine and pressing close.
I obeyed, taking the bags from her other hand. As the blocks passed and we crossed over the icy Sidra, then up the steep hills, I told her. Everything I’d said to Tamlin.
“Having heard you rip into Cassian, I’d say you were fairly mild,” she observed when I’d finished.
I snorted. “Profanity wasn’t necessary here.”
She contemplated my words. “Did you go because you were concerned about the wall, or just because you wanted to say those things to him?”
“Both.” I couldn’t bring myself to lie to her about it. “And perhaps slaughter him.”
Alarm flared in her eyes. “Where is this coming from?”
I didn’t know. “I just …” Words failed me.
Her arm tightened around mine, and I turned to study her face. Open, understanding. “The things you said … they weren’t wrong,” she offered. No judgment, no anger.
Something still a bit hollow inside me filled slightly. “I should have been the bigger male.”
“You’re the bigger male most days. You’re entitled to a slipup.” She smiled broadly. Bright as the full moon, lovelier than any star.
I still had not gotten her a Solstice gift. And birthday present.
She angled her head at my frown, her braid slipping over a shoulder. I ran