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.・。.・゜✭・.
Following Rhysand's exit Tamlin had banished the three from the dining room, slamming the door behind them so hard that its crunched, shards of wood sputtering out and scattering on the floor. Elina had turned to Feyre and almost crumbled herself. The mortal was trembling, skin sickly pale and eyes glistening, she hadn't said a word before darting up the stairs and into her room.
"That sick bastard," Lucien growled, storming away from the dining room just as a guttural howl ripped through the air, so loud the chandelier above them shook. Elina took a dizzying step after her friend only for Lucien to whirl on her, his eyes sharp. "Have you spoken to him?" He asked and Elina blanched, lips parted but the words clung to her throat. "He covered for you, for Feyre. I know she doesn't want Tamlin. I've seen her with him. Why did he do that, Elina?" The autumn male pressed but all Elina could do was shake her head.
"You're lying? For him?" He scoffed, looking at Elina in a way he never had before. He was disappointed, outraged and it tore Elina's broken heart in two. Then he was gone, exiting the house in a flurry of loud footsteps. The doors crashed behind him and all Elina could do was watch, tears welling in her forget me not eyes.
"Elina," Came Tamlin's sharp voice, and the girl span around, horror etched across her face. He looked ragged, clothes torn and blood clung to his fingertips. "Come here," He commanded, Elina glanced back to the doors but Lucien was long gone, and Rhys wouldn't have stuck around. There was no one here to protect her now. So she stepped into the lion's cage alone.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Tamlin sighed as the broken door fell shut behind them. The dining room had been torn to pieces. Paintings ripped, furniture shattered and carpets dragged up. Shattered porcelain crunched beneath Elina's feet as she hesitantly crossed the room, putting a distance between herself and the volatile High Lord. "Sorry about the mess," He had the decency to sound sheepish as he looked around at the destruction he had caused.
"It's your house," Elina said, her voice hardly a whisper and Tamlin chuckled, it was a tired broken sound. The laugh of a man who had the weight of the world thrust upon his shoulders and had carried it for years but was finally buckling under the pressure.
"We need to talk about Feyre," He said, and Elina went rigid, she couldn't look at him. She wouldn't dare, instead she stared at the ground. A bottle of red wine was leaking across the carpet. Spilling like fresh blood.
"I..." She began to say, but the words withered and died on her lips, bathing the room in silence.
"I was wrong for what I did," He said, voice thick with shame, "The way I treated you and Lucien and Feyre. I had no right to command you to leave her, it was a foolish thing," He confessed and finally Elina looked at him, his face was tight, but emotion spilled from his lips, raw and undiluted. Elina thought this might be the first time she was truly seeing Tamlin. "I was jealous, you had captured her heart without even trying. Had settled her in here and then had her affections. I know you think that this is just because of the curse but... I truly came to care for Feyre, but she wanted you," He took a deep breath before looking up. Green eyes bright behind a mask of gold.
