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I loved the way Feyre felt when she was in my head, loved the way her presence tinged everything in my mind with a pale white glow, like my thoughts were being kissed by starlight. Only two daemati had ever found themselves past my mental shields, back when I was much younger and much stupider and their presence had been an oily, uncomfortable thing that left a bad taste in my mouth. Letting Feyre in was like allowing a fresh evening breeze off the Sidra to caress my skin, comfortable and familiar and right .
Even so, I did not like letting that brilliant white light of hers gild the edges of the bloody and gruesome memory I allowed her to relive with me. I could feel her every reaction to the memory through the bond, every twist of her stomach and roil of anger and cringe of horror and I hated that she had to see this side of us. Not just me, Mother knew she’d seen this side of me on more than one occasion, but of Azriel, who had never been anything but kind to her, who she’d never looked at as anything but a friend. And yet, I felt no fear from her when I released her from the memory and gently pushed her back into her body again.
She blinked as her mind found its way back and then looked up at me with narrowed eyes. “What situation in the Spring Court?”
Her mental shields were still down and I could sense her worry, that same nagging fear that she’d ruined everything, that she’d brought war to my borders by choosing to leave. I did my best to assuage that fear without lying to her. “None. As of right now.” She still looked uncertain and I could still feel the steady beat of traitor, traitor, traitor pulsing at the back of her mind. “But you know how far Tamlin can be driven to...protect what he thinks is his.”
It was just a quick flash, barely enough to constitute a memory, but the explosion of blood red paint splattered across a destroyed wall flashed through her mind and then disappeared just as quickly. They took longer to fade from my memory as I recalled my own fear that something had happened to her, the way I’d frozen in the middle of a meeting with Cassian and three of the highest ranking Illyrian lords over the new training program for the Illyrian girls, the way I’d nearly crushed a man’s throat without realizing it in my fear and rage.
“I should have sent Mor that day,” I finally managed to say, still furious at the memory.
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, her mental shields shot back up, shining black adamant meant to block me from her thoughts. And her face became just as impassive, suddenly pale as she cast her eyes down and grabbed her book and tea from the table.
It had been a hard morning to say the least. And Feyre had let herself feel more today than I’d seen from her in a long time. And I’d made it worse, pushed and goaded her until she was furious, underestimating just how pissed she’d be at being used as bait. I hadn’t realized how badly she’d react, hadn’t, in my own arrogance, considered how she’d spent months being lied to and protected from the truth for her own good until she’d tackled me to the ground and was snarling in my face.
In truth, I had been pissed off enough on my own not to see how truly upset she was until it was in my face. I hadn’t planned on how hard it would be to lie to her and leave her alone in the woods, even though I’d put up plenty of wards around her and had my senses attuned to her every breath the entire time. I told myself it was important, that we needed to know what we were up against, and yet, when I sensed her fear and winnowed in to find the Attor’s arms wrapped around her neck, I had almost lost my control that instant. It had been my own rage that had blinded me to how upset she was and I was pissed at myself for not thinking the whole thing through.
She was halfway down the hall when I called after her.
“Feyre, I am sorry-” For so much. I couldn’t even begin to tell her how sorry I was for what I’d put her through, for lying to her, for goading her, for not seeing how upset she was until it was too late. “-about deceiving you earlier,” I finished lamely.
She didn’t stop or turn around, but I saw some tension slip from her shoulders. Without looking back at me, she said, “I need to write a letter.”
And then she disappeared upstairs and stayed there for hours.
It was with great determination that I avoided eavesdropping. Even if I’d wanted to, her mental shields were strong and I couldn’t get past them. I tried to focus on my own work, on the letters of my own that I needed to write and the endless paperwork that Mor sent my way in spite of the fact that there was war looming and I had significantly better things to do. As I worked, I would get drips of emotions from Feyre, nothing more than flashes of irritation and anger and grief through the bond and nothing so intense that I felt the need to run up the stairs and barge into her room. Even so, it took more effort than I wanted to admit not to go check on her. Dozens of excuses to drop by her room flooded my mind, each one more idiotic than the last.
I let her be. She didn’t need me to check on her and if there was something she wanted from me, I had to trust that she’d ask. I focused very hard on ignoring my own curiosity and worked my way studiously through the pile of paperwork on my desk.
I was on my way out the door when she called my name. I waited for her in the foyer and tried not to let my curiosity show on my face as she thrust a piece of paper into my hands.
“I need you to get this to Tamlin.”
Her hair was a mess, like she’d been running her fingers through it. She hadn’t changed out of the clothes she’d been wearing in the human realm, but the sleeves were pushed back over her elbows and there was a smudge of ink on one arm. My eyebrows rose as my fingers closed around the sheet of paper and she took a step back.
“May I?” I asked, gesturing with the paper in my hands.
A long moment passed before she nodded. “Yes.”
I unfolded the letter and read:
I left of my own free will.
I am cared for and safe. I am grateful for all that you did for me, all that you gave.
Please don’t come looking for me. I’m not coming back.
I read it twice before I folded it in half again and sent it to Tamlin’s desk in that study he’d decimated with his power all those weeks ago. “Are you sure?”
I could get it back before he noticed just as easily as I had sent it there. I waited for her to take it back, for her eyes to fill with tears or panic or both. But there was no apprehension on her face as she looked out the window, out to where the sun was shining brightly down on my city. She exhaled and I could feel the weight lifting from her very soul as she took a deep breath.
“I am no one’s pet,” she finally said.
My words from so long ago coming out of her mouth with such conviction were one of the sweetest things I’d ever heard. She was no one’s pet, no one’s subject, no one’s plaything. She was my wild, free, brilliant and brave mate and she belonged to no one but herself, not even me. To hear her acknowledge it and take ownership over herself was a gift. Because if she at last owned herself, there was now a chance that she might, someday, be able to give herself to me freely, and that was all I wanted in this world.
‘“What’s next?” she asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“For what it’s worth, I did actually want to give you a day to rest-”
“Don’t coddle me,” she snapped and it was a struggle for me to keep my expression neutral.
“I’m not,” I replied. “And I’d hardly call our encounter this morning rest.” I ran an eye over her, taking in how her cheeks were still sunken in and pale. Better than before, yes, she’d only been here for a week. Even if she had managed to keep her food down for the last few days, it had only barely begun to show on her face. “But you will forgive me if I make assessments based on your current physical condition.”
“I’ll be the one who decides that,” she snapped again. And then, with less venom. “What about the Book of Breathings?”
“Once Azriel returns from dealing with the Attor, he’s to put his other skill set to use and infiltrate the mortal queens’ courts to learn where they’re keeping it-and what their plans might be. And as for the half in Prythian…’ I thought about the still unanswered letter I’d sent to Tarquin and hoped that his advisors wouldn’t forbid him from inviting us for a visit. “We’ll go to the Summer Court within a few days, if my request to visit is approved. High Lords visiting other courts makes everyone jumpy. We’ll deal with the Book then.”
I had answered her question the best of my ability, so I stopped talking and watched her take the information in. She stared at me for a long moment and then something flashed in her eyes and her posture changed ever so slightly so that she was standing up just a little straighter.
“You told me that this city was better seen at night,” she said, and there was something almost playful in her tone. “Are you all talk, or will you ever bother to show me?”
The words caught me off guard and I didn’t bother hiding the laugh as I saw the challenge in her eyes. Maybe she had only been here a week and maybe she was still healing, but she was strong and she was finally fighting to get herself back. This was the woman I loved, the mate who could stand by my side if she decided it was what she wanted. This was the beginnings of a High Lady who could change the world. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.
“Dinner,” I said in response to her challenge. “Tonight. Let’s find out if you, Feyre darling, are all talk-or,“ I gave her my most wicked grin, “if you’ll allow a Lord of Night to take you out on the town.”