They flew for hours, content to be alone, soaring over the land. They flew and flew, Cassian tireless and unfaltering, and Nesta let herself revel in the feeling of his arms. In just being with him. And even though the cold sank into her skin, by the time the lights of Velaris appeared on the darkening horizon, she was sorry to see them.
But he brought them to the city proper, landing on one of the bridges spanning the Sidra. “I thought we’d walk for a little,” he said, interlacing his fingers with hers.
After so long in the empty skies, the people all around them seemed to press in. But Nesta nodded, falling into step beside him, savoring his calluses against her own, the rub of the thread that kept his Siphon in place atop his hand, the warmth that leaked from him.
“What do you think Eris will do?” They hadn’t spoken of it during the flight.
“Sulk, then come up with his next way to insult me,” Cassian said, and Nesta laughed. He gave her a sidelong glance. “You liked seeing me play courtier?”
Nesta’s mouth quirked upward. “I wouldn’t want you to be that way forever, but it was … enticing. It gave me some ideas.”
His eyes glowed, and though they were within view of the entire city, he laid a hand against her cheek. Brushed a kiss to her mouth. “It gave me some ideas as well, Nes.” He pressed against her, and she understood his meaning entirely.
She laughed and pulled away, aiming for the end of the bridge. “People are watching.”
“I don’t care.” He fell into step beside her again, slinging an arm over her shoulder for emphasis. “I have nothing to hide with you. I want them to know we share a bed.” He kissed her temple, tucking her into his side as they walked through the bustling city.
Such a simple, lovely claim, and yet … She found herself asking, “Does it undermine my image as a warrior to be with you?”
“No. Does it undermine Feyre’s when she’s seen with Rhys?”
Her stomach tightened. Her heartbeat pulsed in her arms, her gut. “It’s different for them,” she made herself say as they reached the end of the bridge and turned to walk along the quay flanking the river.
Cassian asked carefully, “Why?”
Nesta kept her focus on the glittering river, vibrant with the hues of sunset. “Because they’re mates.”
At his utter silence, she knew what he’d say. Halted again, bracing for it.
Cassian’s face was a void. Completely empty as he said, “And we’re not?”
Nesta said nothing.
He huffed a laugh. “Because they’re mates and you don’t want us to be.”
“That word means nothing to me, Cassian,” she said, voice thick as she tried to keep the people who strode past from overhearing. “It means something to all of you, but for most of my life, husband and wife was as good as it got. Mate is just a word.”
“That’s bullshit.”
When she only began walking along the river again, he asked, “Why are you frightened?”
“I’m not frightened.”
“What spooked you? Just being seen publicly with me like this?”
Yes. Having him kiss her and realizing that soon she’d have to return to this world humming around them, and leave the House, and she didn’t know what she would do then. What it would mean for them. If she would plunge back into that dark place she’d occupied before.
Drag him down with her.
“Nesta. Talk to me.”
She met his stare, but wouldn’t open her mouth.
Cassian’s eyes blazed. “Say it.” She refused. “Say it, Nesta.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Ask me why I vanished for nearly a week after Solstice. Why I suddenly had to do an inspection right after a holiday.”
Nesta kept her mouth shut.
“It was because I woke up the next morning and all I wanted to do was fuck you for a week straight. And I knew what that meant, what had happened, even though you didn’t, and I didn’t want to scare you. You weren’t ready for the truth—not yet.”
Her mouth went dry.
“Say it,” Cassian snarled. People gave them a wide berth. Some outright turned back toward the direction they’d come from.
“No.”
His face shuttered with rage even as his voice became calm. “Say it.”
She couldn’t. Not before he’d ordered her to, and certainly not now. She wouldn’t let him win like that.
“Say what I’ve guessed from the moment we met,” he breathed. “What I knew the first time I kissed you. What became unbreakable between us on Solstice night.”
She wouldn’t.
“I am your mate, for fuck’s sake!” Cassian shouted, loud enough for people across the river to hear. “You are my mate! Why are you still fighting it?”
She let the truth, voiced at last, wash over her.
“You promised me forever on Solstice,” he said, voice breaking. “Why is one word somehow throwing you off that?”
“Because with that one word, the last scrap of my humanity goes away!” She didn’t care who saw them, who heard. “With that one stupid word, I am no longer human in any way. I’m one of you!”
He blinked. “I thought you wanted to be one of us.”
“I don’t know what I want. I didn’t have a choice.”
“Well, I didn’t have a choice in being shackled to you, either.”
The declaration slammed into her. Shackled.
He sucked in a breath. “That was an incredibly poor choice of words.”
“But the truth, right?”
“No. I was angry—it’s not true.”
“Why? Your friends saw me for what I was. What I am. The mating bond made you stupidly blind to it. How many times did they warn you away from me, Cassian?” She barked a cold laugh.
Shackled.
Words beckoned, sharp as knives, begging for her to grab one and plunge it into his chest. Make him hurt as much as that one word hurt her. Make him bleed.
But if she did that, if she ripped into him … She couldn’t. Wouldn’t let herself do it.
He pleaded, “I didn’t mean it like—”
“I’m calling in my favor,” she said.
He went still, brows bunching. And then his eyes widened. “Whatever you’re—”
“I want you to leave. Go up to the House of Wind for the night. Do not speak to me until I come talk to you, or until a week has passed. Whichever comes first. I don’t care.”
Until she’d mastered herself enough to not hurt him, to stop feeling the old urge to strike and maim before she could be wounded.
Cassian lurched toward her, but winced, back arching. Like the bargain tattoo on his back had burned him.
“Go away,” she ordered.
His throat worked, eyes bulging. Fighting the power of the bargain with his every breath.
But then he whirled, wingbeats booming as he leaped into the skies above the river.
Nesta remained on the quay as her spine tingled, and she knew her tattoo had vanished.
Emerie was at her kitchen table when Nesta appeared at the back door. Mor had winnowed her here without a question, without so much as a glance of disapproval. Nesta had been beyond caring about it, though. Was only grateful the female had appeared—likely sent by Cassian. She didn’t care about that, either.
Nesta made it two steps into Emerie’s shop before she collapsed and cried.
She barely noticed what happened. How Emerie helped her into a chair, how the words tumbled out, explaining what she and Cassian had said, what she’d done to him.
A knock sounded on the door an hour later, and Nesta stopped crying when she saw who stood there.
Gwyn threw her arms around Nesta. “I heard you might need us.” Nesta was so stunned to see the priestess that she returned the hug.
Mor, a step behind, gave her a concerned nod, and then winnowed away.
Emerie was the one to say to Gwyn, “I can’t believe you left the library.”
Gwyn stroked Nesta’s head. “Some things are more important than fear.” She cleared her throat. “But please don’t remind me too much. I’m so nervous I really might vomit.”
Even Nesta smiled at that.
Her two friends fussed over her, sitting at the kitchen table and drinking hot cocoa—a belated Solstice gift to Emerie from Nesta, pilfered from the House’s larder. They ate dinner, and then dessert, and discussed their latest reads. They spoke about everything and nothing long into the night.
Only when Nesta’s eyes burned with exhaustion, her body a limp weight, did they go upstairs. There were three bedrooms above the shop, all pristine and simple, and Nesta changed into the nightgown Emerie offered without a second thought.
She’d talk to him tomorrow. Sleep now, safe with her friends around her, and talk to him tomorrow.
She’d explain everything—why she’d balked, why it frightened her, this next step into the unknown. The life beyond it. She’d apologize for using their bargain to send him away, and not stop apologizing until he smiled again.
Perhaps the future did not need to be so planned—she could just take it one day at a time. As long as she had Cassian at her side, her friends with her, she could do it. Face it. They wouldn’t let her fall back into that pit. Cassian would never let her fall again.
But if she did fall … he’d be waiting for her at the top again. Hand outstretched. She didn’t deserve it, but she’d endeavor to be worthy of him.
Nesta fell asleep with that thought ringing, a weight lifted from her chest.
Tomorrow, she’d tell Cassian everything. Tomorrow, her life would begin.
A male scent filled her room. It wasn’t Cassian. And it wasn’t Rhys or Azriel.
It was full of hate, and Nesta lurched upward just as a rough laugh sounded. Down the hall, Gwyn screamed—then fell silent.
In the dark, she could make out nothing, and she fumbled for the power within her, for the knife next to the bed—
Something cold and wet pressed into her face.
It burned her nostrils, flaying open her mind.
Darkness swept in, and she was gone.