![]() My nails dug into the leather and paper-to no avail. A thrum of power caressed my fingers, and then the book sealed shut between my hands. I wondered if he’d been telling himself that for months now, wondered if he, too, had moments when his own memories sometimes suffocated him deep in the night.īut I lifted the book, firing two words down the bond between us before I blasted my shields up again. “That bitch wins if you let yourself fall apart.” “We went through enough Under the Mountain-” “He’s giving me space to sort it out,” I said, with enough of a bite that I barely recognized my voice. Does no one there ask what the hell is happening? Does your High Lord simply not care?” “Months and months, and you’re still a ghost. He spoke again, and as if the words tumbling out loosened his grip on his power, talons of smoke curled over his fingers and great wings of shadow spread from his back. Once more, a tendril of his power yanked the plate further back. My fingers had almost grazed the rim of the plate when it just slid away. He could listen to himself talk all day if he wished, but I wanted to eat. I set down the book and extended a hand for the plate. “Thank you? Not ‘High lord and servant?’ Or: ‘Whatever it is you want, you can go shove it up your ass, Rhysand.’?” He clicked his tongue. My stomach was already twisting with hunger, and I lowered the book into my lap. “Since you seem hell-bent on a sedentary lifestyle,” he said, “I thought I’d go one step further and bring your food to you.” I was just finishing up a particularly good chapter-the second-to-last in the book-a shaft of buttery afternoon sunlight warming my feet, when Rhysand slid between two of the oversized armchairs, twin plates of food in his hands, and set them on the lowlying table before me. Perhaps she’d vanished that day her neck had snapped and faerie immortality had filled her veins. The woman who’d hurled a bone-spear at Amarantha … I didn’t know where she was anymore. But it had filled my time-given me quiet, steadfast company with those characters, who did not exist and never would, but somehow made me feel less … alone. I’d taken to situating myself in one of the little lounges overlooking the mountains, and had almost read an entire book in the deep-cushioned armchair, going slowly as I learned new words. That night, he left a pile of books by my door with a note. The claws slammed into my mind a moment later.Īnd bounced harmlessly off a black, glimmering shield of adamant. ![]() ![]() Rhysand is the best lover a female can ever dream of.” I set down the paper, wrote out the three sentences, and handed it to him. ![]()
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