Daylight

Chapter 10

Feyre's meddling had landed her exactly where Rhys told her not to get—directly in the middle. He would tell her I told you so later, she was certain of it.

After an unusually uneventful dinner, Feyre jerked her head at Lucien and then the door to the patio. To Elain's little garden. Imagining he would be told off for... something, Lucien steeled himself and got up to follow his friend outside. Rhys and Cassian, leaning against the counter with glasses half-full of amber liquor in their hands, stared unabashedly after them.

Nosy Illyrian Bastards, he mouthed at them as he walked outside.

Cassian bowed. Actually bowed. Cocky son of a bitch. Lucien hated to admit he actually liked him.

Once he was outside, Feyre waved her hand idly, throwing up her handy little wall, or in this case, dome of air to block sound. Something about it triggered his memory and before she could speak, he pointed an accusatory finger at her.

"This is what you did back at the manor, isn't it? How you masked your scent in my room and kept Tamlin from hearing anything until he'd rounded the corner and saw us. Tell me I'm wrong?"

Feyre's silence and tight-lipped smile was all the confirmation he needed.

"It would have been impressive," Lucien admitted. "If I hadn't been absolutely terrified that Tamlin was going to slice me into ribbons."

"I'll admit, you were the one variable I didn't fully consider," Feyre said, unwilling to meet his eyes.

He cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"When I first got back to the manor, I knew you suspected me," Feyre explained. "And at the time, I hated you for following him so blindly."

Lucien had the decency to look ashamed. "Believe me, I will never forgive myself for—"

"I know," Feyre interrupted him. "At first, I had no moral issues letting you go down with him and his entire court... but the longer I was there, the more I was reminded of how badly he treated you. Like you were something he'd stepped in. When we went on that last scouting trip to the wall, I had more than a little remorse for dragging you into it and then planning to leave you to deal with the aftermath."

Lucien cocked an eyebrow in slight surprise, thinking hard. "After he scolded us like children for setting the Bogge on the Hybern twins—which they absolutely deserved, I might add—you let his rage wound you."

Feyre took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I should have done a lot of things differently. I was angry and wanted personal vengeance against him. I know it was selfish. There were a lot of people who suffered needlessly for my actions, which is something I still haven't forgiven myself for. But yes, to answer your question. I could have protected myself from his rage, but I wanted him to see what the results of his actions were when no one and nothing protected me from him."

Lucien shook his head, half in disbelief and half in... he wasn't entirely sure. Part of him was undeniably impressed with the tangled plot she'd weaved, even though she'd played him as part of it.

"By the Cauldron," Lucien breathed, suddenly realizing how all the pieces had fit together. "You made him think that we—" He gestured between himself and Feyre with wide eyes.

Again, her silence confirmed it.

He barked out a laugh. "I cannot believe you!"

Feyre was trying to suppress a smile but was failing miserably.

It was brilliant, he had to admit it. Lay seeds of doubt and mistrust that would grow and eventually blossom into Tamlin's biggest fear—his closest friend betraying him by taking his betrothed for a lover. He ought to be furious at her for using him as a pawn in her game, but she had played it so well. Still, he was curious about one thing.