Acotar retelling

The Kiss

It was a party like any other—even if it would likely be my last. Faeries drank and lounged and danced, laughing and singing bawdy and ethereal songs. No glimmer of anticipation for what might occur tomorrow—what I stood to alter for them, for their world. Perhaps they knew I would die, too.

I lurked by a wall, forgotten by the crowd, waiting for Rhysand to beckon me to drink the wine and dance. I was clothed in my typical attire, tattooed from the neck down with that blue-black paint. Tonight my gossamer gown was a shade of sunset pink, the colour bright and feminine against the whorls of paint on my skin. Too cheery for what awaited me tomorrow.

Rhysand was taking longer than usual to summon me—though it was probably because of the supple-bodied faerie perched in his lap, caressing his hair with her long greenish fingers. He'd tire of her soon.

I didn't bother to look at Amarantha. I was better off pretending she wasn't there. Lucien never spoke to me in public.

I just wanted it done. I wanted that wine to carry me through this last night and bring me to my fate. I was so intent on anticipating Rhysand's order to serve him that I didn't notice that someone stood beside me until the heat from his body leaked onto mine.

I went rigid when I smelled that rain and earthy scent, and didn't dare to turn to Tamlin. We stood side by side, staring out at the crowd, as still and unnoticeable as statues.

His fingers brushed mine, and a line of fire went through me, stress burning my veins.

Don't do this please.

I kept my face set in a mask of cold. He dropped his hand, and, as quickly as he had come, he sauntered off, weaving through the crowd. It was only when he glanced over his shoulder and inclined his head ever so slightly that I understood.

My heart beat fast, and I made myself look as bored as possible before I pushed off the wall and casually strolled after him. I took a different route, but headed toward the small door half hidden by a tapestry near which he lingered. I had only moments before Rhysand would begin looking for me and I could time alone with him. I needed to keep up my front with Tamlin and a kiss from Rhys would be my consolation prize.

I could scarcely breathe as I moved nearer and nearer to the door, past Amarantha's dais, past a group of giggling faeries... Tamlin disappeared through the door as quick as lightning, and I slowed my steps to a meandering pace. These days no one really paid attention to me until I became Rhys's drugged plaything. All too quickly, the door was before me, and it swung open noiselessly to let me in.

Darkness encompassed me. I saw only a flash of green and gold before the warmth of Tamlin's body slammed into me and our lips met.

I wouldn't kiss him deeply, wouldn't hold him tightly, wouldn't touch all of him.

He tore his lips from mine and bit my neck—bit it as he had on Fire Night. I had to grind my teeth to keep myself from ripping him off of me.

Someone coughed.

Finally!

"Shameful," Rhysand purred, and we whirled to find him faintly illuminated by the light that broke in through the doorway. But he stood behind us—farther into the passage, rather than toward the door. He hadn't come in through the throne room. With that ability of his, he had probably walked through the walls. "Just shameful." He stalked toward us. Tamlin remained holding me. "Look at what you've done to my pet."

Panting, neither of us said anything. But the air became a cold kiss upon my skin.

"Amarantha would be greatly aggrieved if she knew her little warrior was dallying with the human help," Rhysand went on, crossing his arms. "I wonder how she'd punish you. Or perhaps she'd stay true to habit and punish Lucien. He still has one eye to lose, after all. Maybe she'll put it in a ring, too."