Tamlin Quotes

“Break the bond. The bargain, the- the mating bond. He- he made me do it, made me swear it-'

'No,' Rhysand said.

I ignored him, even as my heart broke, even as I knew that he hadn't meant to say it- 'Do it,' I begged the king, even as I silently prayed he wouldn't notice his ruined wards, the door I'd left wide open. 'I know you can. Just- free me. Free me from it.'

'No,' Rhysand said.

But Tamlin was staring between us. And I looked at thim, the High Lord I had once loved, and I breathed. 'No more. No more death- no more killing.' I sobbed through my clenched teeth. Made myself look at my sisters. 'No more. Take me home and let them go. Tell him it's part of the bargain and let them go. But no more- please.'

Cassian slowly, every movement pained, stirred enough to look over a shredded wing at me. And in his pain-glazed eyes, I saw it- the understanding.

The Court of Dreams. I had belonged to a court of dreams. And dreamers.

And for their dreams... for what they had worked for, sacrificed for... I could do it.

Get my sisters out, I said to Rhys one last time, sending it into that stone wall between us.

I looked to Tamlin. 'No more.' Those green eyes met mine- and the sorrow and tenderness in them was the most hideous thing I'd ever seen. 'Take me home.'

Tamlin said flatly to the king, 'Let them go, break her bond, and let's be done with it. Her sisters come with us. You've already crossed too many lines.'

Jurian began objecting, but the king said, 'Very well.'

'No,' was all Rhys said again.

Tamlin snarled at him, 'I don't give a shit if she's your mate. I don't give a shit if you think you're entitled to her. She is mine- and one day, I am going to repay every bit of pain she felt, every bit of suffering and despair. One day, perhaps when she decides she wants to end you, I'll be happy to oblige her.'

Walk away- just go. Take my sisters with you.

Rhys was only staring at me. 'Don't.'

But I backed away- until I hit Tamlin's chest, until his hands, warm and heavy, landed on my shoulders. 'Do it,' he said to the king.

'No,' Rhys said again, his voice breaking.

But the king pointed at me. And I screamed.

Tamlin gripped my arms as I screamed and screamed at the pain that tore through my chest, my left arm.

Rhysand was on the ground, roaring, and I thought he might have said my name, might have bellowed it as I thrashed and sobbed. I was being shredded, I was dying, I was dying-

No. No, I didn't want it, I didn't want to-

A crack sounded in my ears.

And the world cleaved in two as the bond snapped.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“Power smelling of lilac and cedar and the first bits of green, swirled around me.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“Where is she?' Amren snapped one more time.

I couldn't bring myself to say the words.

So Mor said them for me as she knelt over Azriel, both of my brothers mercifully unconscious. 'Tamlin offered passage through his lands and our heads on platters to the kings in exchange for trapping Feyre, breaking her bond, and getting to bring her back to the Spring Court. But Ianthe betrayed Tamlin- told the king where to find Feyre's sisters. So the king had Feyre's sisters brought with the queens- to prove he could make immortal. He put them in to the Cauldron. We could do nothing as they were turned. He had us by the balls.'

Those quicksilver eyes shot to me. 'Rhysand.'

I managed to say, 'We Were out of options, and Feyre knew it. So she pretended to free herself from the control Tamlin thought I'd kept on her mind. Pretended that she... hated us. And told him she'd go home- but only if the killing stopped. If we went free.'

'And the bond,' Amren breathed, Cassian's blood shining on her hands as she slowed its dribbling.

Mor said, 'She asked the king to breath the bond. He obliged.'

I thought I might be dying- thought my chest might actually be cleaved in two.

'That's impossible,' Amren said. 'That sort of bond cannot be broken.'

'The king said he could do it.'

'The king is a fool,' Amren barked. 'That sort of bond cannot be broken.'

'No, it can't,' I said.

They both looked at me.

I cleared my head, my shattering heart- breaking for what my mate had done, sacrificed for me and my family. For her sisters. Because she hadn't thought... hadn't thought she was essential. Even after all she had done. 'The king broke the bargain between us. Hard to do, but he couldn't tell that it wasn't the mating bond.'

More started. 'Does- does Feyre know-'

'Yes,' I breathed. 'And now my mate is in my enemy's hands.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“I'll come with you,' I said softly to Tamlin, to Lucien, shifting on his feet, 'if you leave them alone. Let them go.'

You do not hold me.

Tamlin's face contorted with wrath. 'They're monsters. They're-' He didn't finish as he stalked across the floor to grab me. To drag me out of here, then no doubt winnow away.

You do not hold me.

The fist gripping my power relaxed. Vanished.

Tamlin lunged for me over the few feet that remained. So fast- too fast-

I became mist and shadow.

I winnowed beyond his reach. The king let out a low laugh as Tamlin stumbled.

And went sprawling as Rhysand's fist connected with his face.

Panting, I retreated right into Rhysand's arms as one looped around my waist, as Azriel's blood on him soaked into my back. Behind us, Mor leaped in to fill the space Rhys had vacated, slinging Azriel's arm over her shoulders.
...
Tamlin rose, wiping the blood now trickling from his nose as he backed to where Lucien held his position with a hand on his sword.

But just as Tamlin neared his Emissary, he staggered a step. His face went white with rage.

And I knew Tamlin understood a moment before the king laughed. 'I don't believe it. Your bride left you only to find her mate. The Mother has a warped sense of humour, it seems. And what a talent- tell me, girl; how did you unravel that spell?'

I ignored him. But the hatred in Tamlin's eyes made my knees buckle. 'I'm sorry,' I said, and meant it.

Tamlin's eyes were on Rhysand, his face near-feral. 'You,' he snarled, the sound more animal than Fae. 'What did you do to her?”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“Molten rage poured into me. I hissed at Tamlin, 'If you bring me from here, if you take me from my mate, I will destroy you. I will destroy your court, and everything you hold dear.'

Tamlin's lips thinned. But he said simply, 'You don't know what you're talking about.'

Lucien cringed.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“Spring bloomed- the air gentle and scented with roses.

Still lovely. But there were the front doors he'd sealed me behind. There was the window I'd banged on, trying to get out. A pretty, rose-covered prison.

But I smiled, head throbbing, and said through my tears, 'I thought I'd never see it again.'

Tamlin was just staring at me, as if not quite believing it, 'I thought you would never, either.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“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.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“The painting looks beautiful.'

'It's nowhere near done,' I said, dredging up that girl who had shunned praise and compliments, who had wanted to go unnoticed. 'It's still a mess.'

Frankly, it was some of my best work, even if it's soullessness was only apparent to me.

'I think we all are,' Tamlin offered with a tentative smile.

I reined in the urge to roll my eyes, and returned his smile, brushing my hand over his shoulder as I passed.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“His body was taut, near-trembling.

'What happened between you?' I hissed when we were lost among the hedges and gravel paths of the garden.

'It's not worth repeating.'

'When I- was taken,' I ventured, almost stumbling on the word, almost saying left, 'Did she and Tamlin...'

I was not faking the twisting low in my gut.

'No,' he said hoarsely. 'No. When Calanmai came along, he refused. He flat-out refused to participate. I replaced him in the Rite, but...'
...
But Lucien... 'You took Ianthe into that cave on Calanmai?'

He wouldn't meet my gaze. 'She insisted. Tamlin was... Things were bad, Feyre. I went in his stead, and I did my duty to the court. I went of my own free will. And we completed the Rite.'

No wonder she'd backed off him. She'd gotten what she wanted.

'Please don't tell Elain,' he said. 'When we- when we find her again,' he amended.

He might have completed the Great Rite with Ianthe of his own free will, but he certainly hadn't enjoyed it. Some line had been blurred- badly.

And my heart shifted a bit in my chest as I said to him with no guile whatsoever, 'I won't tell anyone unless you say so.' The weight of the jewelled knife and belt seemed to grow. 'I wish I had been there to stop it. I should have been there to stop it.' I meant every word.

Lucien squeezed our linked arms as we rounded a hedge, the house rising up before us. 'You are a better friend to me, Feyre,' he said quietly, 'than I ever was to you.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“I glanced between the grass and the crowd and the cluster of musicians coaxing such lively music from drums and fiddles and pipes as I approached, no more than a shy, hesitant doe.

Once, those same sounds had shaken me awake, had made me dance and dance. I supposed they were now little more than weapons in my arsenal as I stopped before Tamlin, lowered my lashes, and asked softly, 'Will you dance with me?'

Relief, happiness, and a slight edge of concern. 'Yes,' he breathed. 'Yes, of course.'

So I let him lead me into the swift dance, spinning and tilting me, people gathering to cheer and clap. Dance after dance after dance, until sweat was running down my back as I worked to keep up, keep that smile on my face, to remember to laugh when my hands were within strangling distance of his throat.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“How bad was it?' I asked quietly.

'You saw your room. He trashed it, the study, his bedroom. He- he killed the sentries who'd been on guard. After he got the last bit of information from them. He executed them in front of everyone in the manor.'

My blood chilled. 'You didn't stop him.'

'I tried. I begged him for mercy. He didn't listen. He couldn't listen.'

'The sentries didn't try to stop him, either?'

'They didn't dare, Feyre, he's a High Lord. He's a different breed.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“You might be willing to get on your knees for Hybern, but I certainly am not.'

He exploded.

Furniture splintered and went flying, windows cracked and shattered.

And this time, I did not shield myself.

The worktable slammed into me, throwing me against the bookshelf, and every place where flesh and bone met wood barked and ached.

My knees slammed into the carpeted floor, and Tamlin was instantly in front of me, hands shaking-

The doors burst open.

'What have you done,' Lucien breathed, and Tamlin's face was the picture of devastation as Lucien shoved him aside. He let Lucien shove him aside and help me stand.

Something wet and warm slid down my cheek- blood, from the scent of it.

'Let's get you cleaned up,' Lucien said, an arm around my shoulders as he eased me from the room. I barely heard him over the ringing in my ears, the slight spinning to the world.

The sentries- Bron and Hart, two of Tamlin's favourite lord-warriors among them- were gaping, attention torn between the wrecked study and my face.

With good reason. As Lucien led me past a gilded hall mirror, I beheld what had drawn such horror. My eyes were glassy, my face pallid- save for the scratch just beneath my cheekbone, perhaps two inches long and leaking blood.

Little scratches peppered my neck, my hands. But I willed that cleansing, healing power- that of the High Lord of Dawn- to keep from seeking them out. From smoothing them away.

'Feyre,' Tamlin breathed from behind us.

I halted, aware of every eye that watched. 'I'm fine,' I whispered. 'I'm sorry.' I wiped at the blood dribbling down my cheek. 'I'm fine,' I told him again.

No one, not even Tamlin, looked convinced.

And if I could have painted that moment, I would have named it A Portrait in Snares and Baiting.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“I know better than to tell you to be careful, or to come home. But I want you home. Soon. And I want him dead for putting a hand on you.

Even with the entirety of the land between us, his rage rippled down the bond.

I answered, my tone soothing, Technically, his magic touched me, not his hand.

The bathwater was cold by the time his reply came through. I'm glad you have a sense of humour about this. I certainly don't.

I sent back an image of me sticking out my tongue at him.

My clothes were back on when his answer arrived.

Like mine, it was wordless, a mere image. Like mine, Rhysand's tongue was out.

But it was occupied with doing something else.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“You're going back. To the Night Court.'

I shouldered my heavy pack and finally looked at him. 'Yes.'

His tan face had paled. But he surveyed Ianthe, the two dead royals. 'I'm going with you.'

'No,' was all I said, heading for the trees.

A cramp formed deep in my belly. I had to get away- had to use the last of my power to winnow to the hills.

'You won't make it without magic,' he warned me.

I just gritted my teeth against the sharp pain in my abdomen as I rallied my strength to winnow to those distant foothills. But Lucien gripped my arm, halting me.

'I'm going with you,' he said again, face splattered with blood as bright as his hair. 'I'm getting my mate back.'

There was no time for this argument. For the truth and debate and the answers I saw he desperately wanted.

Tamlin and the others would have heard the shouting by now.

'Don't make me regret this,' I told him.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“Lucien was having none of it. 'I knew. I knew you were lying the moment you unleashed that light in Hybern. My friend at the Dawn Court has the same power- her light is identical. And it does not do whatever horseshit you lied about it doing.'

I shoved my pack off my bedroll. 'Then why not tell him? You were his faithful dog in every other sense.'

His eye seemed to simmer. As if being in his own lands set that molten ore inside him rising to the surface, even with the damper on his power. 'Glad to see the mask is off, at least.'

Indeed, I let him see it all- didn't alter or shape my face into anything but coldness.

Lucien snorted. 'I didn't tell him for two reasons. One, it felt like kicking a male already down. I couldn't take that hope away from him.' I rolled my eyes. 'Two,' he snapped, 'I knew if I was correct and called you on it, you'd find a way to make sure I never saw her.'

My nails dug into my palms hard enough to hurt, but I remained seated on the bedroll as I bared my teeth at him. 'And that's why you're here. Not because it's right and he's always been wrong, but just so you can get what you think you're owed.'

'She is my mate and in my enemy's hands-'

'I've made no secret from the start that Elain is safe and cared for.'

'And I'm supposed to believe you?'

'Yes,' I hissed. 'You are. Because if I believed for one moment that my sisters were in danger, no High Lord or king would have kept me from going to save them.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“The king jerked his chin at my left arm. 'Break that bond between you two.'

'Please,' I whispered.

'How else is Tamlin to have his bride? He can't very well have a wife who runs off to another male once a month.'

Rhys remained silent, though his grip tightened on Azriel. Observing- weighing, sorting through the lock on his power. The thought of that silence between our souls being permanent...

My voice cracked as I said to Tamlin, still at the opposite end of the crude half circle we'd formed before the dais. 'Don't. Don't let him. I told you- I told you that I was fine. That I left-'

'You weren't well,' Tamlin snarled. 'He used that bond to manipulate you. Why do you think I was gone so often? I was looking for a way to get you free. And you left.'

'I left because I was going to die in that house.'

The King of Hybern clicked his tongue. 'Not what you expected, is it?'

Tamlin growled at him, but again held out his hand toward me. 'Come home with me. Now.'

'No.'

'Feyre.' An unflinching command.

Rhys was barely breathing- barely moving.

And I realised... realised it was to keep his scent from becoming apparent. Our scent. Our mating bond.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“I'm not going with you,' I spat at Tamlin. 'And even if I did... You spineless, stupid fool for selling us out to him! Do you know what he wants to do with that Cauldron?'

'Oh, I'm going to do many, many things with it,' the king said.

And the Cauldron appeared again between us.

'Starting now.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“Tamlin ran for me. To grab me at last.

I hurled a knife at him- as hard as I could.

He had to dive to miss it. And he backed away as the second one I had ready, gaping at me, at Rhys, as if he could indeed see the mating bond between us.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“Tamlin?' I peered at my hands, the blood, and when I beheld Rhys, when I saw my grim-faced friends, and my drenched, immortal sisters-

There was nothing but shock and confusion on Rhys's face as I scrambled back from him.

Away from them. Toward Tamlin. 'Tamlin,' I managed to say again. Lucien's eye widened as he stepped between me and Elain. I whirled on the King of Hybern. 'Where-' I again faced Rhysand, 'What did you do to me,' I breathed, low and guttural. Backing toward Tamlin. 'What did you do?'

Get them out. Get my sisters out.

Play- please play along. Please-

There was no sound, no shield, no glimmer of feeling in our bond. The king's power had blocked it out too thoroughly. There was nothing I could do against it, Cursebreaker or no.

But Rhys slid his hands into his pockets as he purred, 'How did you get free?'

'What?' Jurian seethed, pushing off the wall and storming toward us.

But I turned toward Tamlin and ignored the features and smell and clothes that were all wrong. He watched me warily. 'Don't let him take me again, don't let him- don't-' I couldn't keep the sobs from shuddering out, not as the full force of what I was doing hit me.

'Feyre,' Tamlin said softly. And I knew I had won.

I sobbed harder.

Get my sisters out, I begged Rhys through the silent bond. I ripped the wards open for you- all of you. Get them out.

'Don't let him take me,' I sobbed again. 'I don't want to go back.'

And when I looked at Mor, at the tears streaming down her face as she helped Cassian get upright, I knew she realised what I meant. But the tears vanished- became sorrow for Cassian as she turned a hateful, horrified face to Rhysand and spat, 'What did you do to that girl?'

Rhys cocked his head. 'How did you do it, Feyre?' There was so much blood on him. One last game- this was one last game we were to play together.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“Tamlin yanked off the glove on my left hand.

Pure, bare skin greeted him. No tattoo.

I was sobbing and sobbing, and his arms came around me. Every inch of them felt wrong.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“Jurian stalked over to Lucien amid the rising squabble, laughing under his breath, 'Do you know what Illyrian bastards do to pretty females? You won't have a mate left- at least not one that's useful to you in any way.'

Lucien's answering growl was nothing short of feral.

I spat at Jurian's feet. 'You can go to hell, you hideous prick.'

Tamlin's hands tightened at my shoulders. Lucien spun toward me and that metal eye whirred and narrowed. Centuries of cultivated reason clicked into place.

I was not panicking at my sisters being taken.

I said quietly, 'We will get her back.'

But Lucien was watching me warily. Too warily.

I said to Tamlin, 'Take me home.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“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.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“Ianthe bowed her head again. 'I will endeavour to be worthy of my friends.'

Lucien seemed to be trying very, very hard not to roll his eyes.

But Tamlin said, 'We'll all try.'

That was his new favourite word: try.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“I did it for you, too, you know.' Cold, hard words. 'I went with him to get you back.'

'I never realised what a powerful motivator guilt can be.'

'That day you- went away,' he said, struggling to avoid that other word- left. 'I beat Tamlin back to the manor- received the message when we were out on the border and raced here. But the only trace of you was that ring, melted between the stones of the parlour. I got rid of it a moment before Tam arrived home to see it.'

A probing, careful statement. Of the facts that pointed not toward abduction.

'They melted it off my finger,' I lied.

His throat bobbed, but he just shook his head, the sunlight leaking through the forest canopy setting the ember-red of his hair flickering.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“Alis had found me a luxurious white velvet cloak for the brisk ride into the hills, and Tamlin had lifted me onto a moon-pale mare with wildflowers woven into her silver mane. If I had wanted to paint a picture of serene purity, it would have been the image I cast that morning, my hair braided above my head, a crown of white hawthorn blossoms upon it. I'd dabbed rouge onto my cheeks and lips- a slight hint of colour. Like the first blush of spring across a winter landscape.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“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.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“His red hair gleamed in the faint firelight a moment later as he shoved through the flaps and swore. 'Maybe I should sleep out there.'

I rolled my eyes. 'Please.'

A way, considering glance as he knelt and removed his boots. 'You know Tamlin can be... sensitive about things.'

'He can also be a pain in my ass,' I snapped, and slithered under the blankets. 'If you yield to him on every bit of paranoia and territorialism, you'll just make it worse.'

Lucien unbuttoned his jacket but remained mostly dressed as he slid onto his sleeping roll. 'I think it's made worse because you two haven't... I mean, you haven't, right?'

I stiffened, tugging the blanket tighter onto my shoulders. 'No. I don't want to be touched like that- not for a while.'

His silence was heavy- sad. I hated the lie, hated it for how filthy it felt to wield it. 'I'm sorry,' he said. And I wondered what else he was apologising for as I faced him in the darkness of our tent.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“His red hair gleamed in the faint firelight a moment later as he shoved through the flaps and swore. 'Maybe I should sleep out there.'

I rolled my eyes. 'Please.'

A wary, considering glance as he knelt and removed his boots. 'You know Tamlin can be... sensitive about things.'

'He can also be a pain in my ass,' I snapped, and slithered under the blankets. 'If you yield to him on every bit of paranoia and territorialism, you'll just make it worse.'

Lucien unbuttoned his jacket but remained mostly dressed as he slid onto his sleeping roll. 'I think it's made worse because you two haven't... I mean, you haven't, right?'

I stiffened, tugging the blanket tighter onto my shoulders. 'No. I don't want to be touched like that- not for a while.'

His silence was heavy- sad. I hated the lie, hated it for how filthy it felt to wield it. 'I'm sorry,' he said. And I wondered what else he was apologising for as I faced him in the darkness of our tent.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“I heard Lucien first.

'Back off.'

A low female laugh.

Everything in me went still and cold at that sound. I'd heard it once before- in Rhysand's memory.

Keep going. They were distracted, horrible as it was.

Keep going, keep going, keep going.

'I thought you'd seek me out after the Rite,' Ianthe purred. They couldn't be more than thirty feet through the trees. Far enough away not to hear my presence, if I was quiet enough.

'I was obligated to perform the Rite,' Lucien snapped. 'That night wasn't the product of desire, believe me.'

'We had fun, you and I.'

'I'm a mated male now.'

Every second was the ringing of my death knell. I'd primed everything to fall; I'd long since stopped feeling any guilt or doubt about my plan. Not with Alis now safely away.

And yet- and yet-

'You don't act that way with Feyre.' A silk-wrapped threat.

'You're mistaken.'

'Am I?' Twigs and leaves crunched, as if she was circling him. 'You put your hands all over her.'

I had done my job too well, provoked her jealousy too much with every instance I'd found ways to get Lucien to touch me in her presence, in Tamlin's presence.

'Do not touch me,' he growled.

And then I was moving.

I masked the sound of my footfalls, silent as a panther as I stalked to the little clearing where they stood.

Where Lucien stood, back against a tree- twin bands of blue stone shackled around his wrists.

I'd seen them before. On Rhys, to immobilise his power. Stone hewn from Hybern's rotted land, capable of nullifying magic. And in this case... holding Lucien against that tree as Ianthe surveyed him like a snake before a meal.

She slid a hand over the broad panes of his chest, his stomach.

And Lucien's eyes shot to me as I stepped between the trees, fear and humiliation reddening his golden skin.

'That's enough,' I said.

Ianthe whipped her head to me. Her smile was innocent, simpering. But I saw her note the pack, Tamlin's bandolier. Dismiss them. 'We were in the middle of a game. Weren't we, Lucien?'

He didn't answer.

And the sight of those shackles on him, however she'd trapped him, the sight of her hand still on his stomach-

'We'll return to the camp when we're done,' she said, turning to him again. Her hand slid lower, not for his own pleasure, but simply to throw it in my face that she could-”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin

“You tell them I killed them. In self-defence. After they hurt me so badly while you and Tamlin did nothing. Even when they torture you for the truth, you say that I fled after I killed them- to save this court from their horrors.'

Blank, vacant eyes were my only answer.

'Feyre.'

Lucien's voice was a hoarse rasp.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Wings and Ruin