Chapter Thirty-Eight

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Velaria

"Give me a reason," Velaria demanded, pressing the knife into his pale skin and drawing a drop of angry red blood. "Or your life is over."

"Velaria." Mor's voice trembled. "What are you doing?"

"Killing this asshole," Velaria said through clenched teeth. "He's done enough harm."

The anger circling her at every threat Eris had thrown out over the years, the pale color of Emerie's face, the centuries-worth of memories of his cowardice honed her instincts. She was content quickly opening his throat and letting the blood pour out, or she could entertain the idea of killing him slowly and painfully. Maybe it was the Illyrian instincts in her, the monster within her that made her so bloodthirsty, but the one voice that kept her from killing so ruthlessly wasn't there. Instead, a sweet voice was ringing out with fear and pain lacing every note.

"Vela, stop," Mor said, her voice breaking.

Feyre put a shaking hand on Mor's shoulder, subtly pulling her closer to her side. "Velaria, you don't need to kill him."

Velaria blinked, some of the anger dissipating. She whipped around. "Why the fuck not?"

Feyre opened her mouth to answer but Eris chose that moment to flip Velaria onto her back, leaving Velaria fumbling with her power to mute his own.

Eris's breath was hot on her face. "You traitor bitch," he breathed. "You turned my brothers against you."

Before Velaria could react or even breathe, Eris, realizing his power was rendered unusable, pulled a dagger out of his belt and held it to her cheek. He dragged it down, every centimeter burning with pain. Warm blood dripped down her cheek and off of her chin. The tangy scent of the blade reached her nose. Faebane.

Fear seized Velaria at the same moment Feyre and Mor took a step forward. She threw her power backwards, stopping them from advancing further with a wall of shimmering, transparent purple.

Feyre began to pound on the wall, Mor's face contorted into disbelief and anger.

"Velaria, what are you doing?" Feyre demanded, pounding quicker.

Velaria's gaze darted to Mor's brown eyes, wide and full of fear. Her power was slowly draining with the effects of the faebane. "You two are too important," she said hoarsely.

"And you're not?" Mor cried. "Vela, we lost you centuries ago. We are not going to lose you again." Mor began to hit the wall as Feyre continued.

Something hot grazed her face and Velaria looked to see a flame dancing in the new cut, burning it further open. Velaria gritted her teeth, realizing that, with the faebane, her grip on Eris's powers had been loosened.

Eris grinned down at her, the strands of his red hair falling in clumps around his face. "Return me my brothers from under your mind's thrall, Night Court bitch, and maybe I'll heal your face."

Velaria spat in his face. "Fuck you."

Eris's face contorted with anger. Fire engulfed her, and Velaria cried out.

The last thing she saw was Feyre yelling out before everything faded to black.

✿ ↬ - - - ↫ ✿

Tamlin

Tamlin stood in front of a crowd of painted guests in pale yellows, light pinks, various shades of green, and gold. He stood still, his eyes unfocused at the wall behind everyone.

Tamlin's mother stood behind him and placed a gentle, pale hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her into her emerald eyes, the ones he had inherited but his brothers hadn't.

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