Tw: this book will deal with triggering topics. If you are easily triggered this is not the story for you, thank you.
(Book two in the Starlight series)
─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Danika Archeron had been through hell.
Forced to go back to Spring C...
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"That's the thing about pain, it demands to be felt."
─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
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RHYSAND WENT still as death. Cassian snarled. Hanging between them, Azriel tried and failed to lift his head.
The last time I had seen Tamlin, I had been a little fawn. A girl in her darkest hour, so full of a grief he took full advantage of. Twisted and warped that grief into something submissive and frail.
But I was a fawn no longer.
And I was going to rip the skin from his bones with my bare hands.
The High Lord of Spring held a bandolier of knives—Illyrian hunting blades, I realized. His eyes searching the lot of us for someone. For her. For Feyre.
And suddenly I was more grateful than anything that she had stayed in Velaris.
His golden hair was cut shorter, his face more gaunt. And his green eyes as they finally landed on me...shocked and loathing as they scanned me from head to toe. Wide as they took in the fighting leathers, the Illyrian swords, the knives, the way I stood with my friends—my family.
And I had no doubt he was straining to know what had happened to Feyre. Where she was...what we had no doubt done to her in his sick mind.
He'd been working with the King of Hybern.
He had been working with the King of Hybern.
Fury—no, I was beyond fury. This rage? This rage was eternal and everlasting. My nostrils flared, "I'm going shred you apart." I said before I could stop myself, my voice no more than an icy whisper.
But Tamlin dared one step closer, staring at me like I was a small child. "Where is she?" he asked, going to take another step. Lucien, metal eye whirring, stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Smart male.
