𝕬𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖊

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When I land on the ground, the battlefield is quiet.

My boots squelch as I sink into inches of mud, blood and tears. The last of Hybern's forsaken fighters still battle. Dread and defeat unwinds on their faces as more and more of the Court's soldiers surround them.

To the left, I see Graysen and his human soldiers. They stand before a line of Hyberns fighters. The fighters slump to their knees, defeated. Graysen gives the call and his soldiers raise their swords. They decapitate Hyberns men in smooth, absolute sweeps of their sharp blades.

I have a foul taste in my mouth. Is it blood? Is it my own?

I amble through rows and rows of bodies. The faces begin to blur into a bloody mess of fae and beast.

I keep looking for Tamlin. My body and wings cry out for rest but I walk on. I have to find him. And then we can go home to Rosehall - Tamlin, Jurian and I.

The war has finished. A future I never thought I would have is beaming at me. A long life in the Spring Court. Of rebuilding the ruined towns alongside the two men that make me happier than I have ever known.

I would be lying if I said that I'm not brimming with excitement. It is the sole feeling keeping me roaming through this battlefield.

My feet cry out in exhaustion as I clamber over a hill and peer around me. Finally, I see him. I can not help the smile that glides onto my face as I finally see my mate.

His name falls out of my lips like a sigh.

"Tamlin."

The setting sun illuminates him. Despite the blood that coats his tanned skin, he turns and looks at me, and he looks holy. Not merely a High Lord. A God.

He pushes off the cart he was resting on and strides towards me.

I am a mess as I rush down the hill into his arms.

"Persephone," Tamlin murmurs against the top of my head. His voice sends shivers through my body.

I pull back and examine him, his bloody and scarred skin, and ask, "Are you alright?"

Tamlin shifts and runs a hand through his matted, blonde hair, "We won the war. I'm ecstatic," he looks down at me, "I saw you fly off with Jurian. Is he okay?"

I nod, "He's fine, exhausted and a little scraped up, but fine. Should I get him so we can leave?"

Tamlin looks toward the battleground with a tired sigh, "I cannot leave yet. Rhysand has called for a meeting tomorrow," an irritated look crosses over his face. "So I am to stay and help the wounded until then,"

"And after that? Will we go home?"

The High Lord doesn't answer.

He pulls away from me and leans back against the cart. He looks exhausted. I want nothing more than to sweep him in my arms and go home. But his green eyes are not meeting mine.

A sudden sinking feeling appears in my stomach. There is something that he isn't telling me. I know my mate well enough to tell when something is wrong.

"What's wrong Tamlin?" My voice comes out softly, slowly.

Tamlin, finally, meets my eyes. His beautiful face is stone cold. The High Lord stands again and faces me.

"And then we'll go home, right?" I whisper and try to keep my voice steady. I pray to the cauldron that he will nod. I pray that the look in his eyes doesn't mean what I think it does.

But again, for the second time in my life, I am a fool in love. I am a fool to hope for a different outcome.

He shakes his head and his sigh is full of agony as he looks down at the bloody grass, "I can not leave with you Persephone,"

I frown at him. I'm shaking but I still keep my voice unchanging as I question him, "And why not?"

Tamlin won't meet my eyes as he says, "You know why,"

I do not want to say what I know I have to. I know my next words will break my heart, but I say them anyway.

I look in the direction of the hill she is on, with her mate that I helped save - that I gave my power to. I'm still looking when I whisper.

"You still love her,"

There is nothing but deathly silence between us as he halts and then nods.

"Yes,"

Everything inside of me collapses in a whoosh. I grapple for my breath as dark spots cloud my vision. Pure, unfiltered anger rifles through me.

My words are lethal as I spit, "After all this time, after everything we've been through, you still love Feyre,"

He pauses as if he can sense my growing emotion. The High Lord takes a step away from me. My breath becomes jagged. The battleground around us sinks into silence, into darkness.

"I am sorry," Tamlin's voice shakes as he whispers, as he tries to control the situation, "I am sorry Persephone, "

I take in a trembling breath, "Will you ever be ready for me? For me and Jurian?"

Tamlin finally meets my eyes. His expression is full of pity - so full of pity it makes me feel sick. And through it all, I still love the way he looks at me. Even though I know he might never look at me like this again.

"I need time," the High Lord states, "I need to focus on rebuilding my Court, on healing my heart. You both deserve better," he sighs. "You both deserve someone that can love, unconditionally, for eternity." Tamlin talks softly as if he is trying not to break me more, but his words still snap my heart in half.

I can not help the low whimper that leaves me. Pain wracks through me. My heart is breaking, again and again. First, Cassian. Now, my mate.

I shut my eyes.

My power lifts me into the air and I lose all control. The pain tears its way out of my body in the form of a gust of power. Around us, weapon carts topple and shake. Fae turn and stumble as my power radiates around the battleground, as it reverberates along the ground. As it shakes Prythian. But Tamlin doesn't waver. He watches me, as tears streak down my face.

Suddenly, a cool, calming hand touches my shoulder. I look down. Jurian is here.

He looks up at me and extends his hand to me, "Let's go Persephone." He says softly, he doesn't spare Tamlin a glance.

I tumble to the ground ad he grips me. I turn back to Tamlin.

"I love you," I whisper to the High Lord. Tamlin looks at me. He shakes his head. His lips part but he says nothing.

It is the final stab to my splitting heart.

I close my eyes and grip Jurians hand in my own. I winnow us away - away from this field, away from this pain, away from the one I love.

The tattoo winded around my hand, the rose that shows that we are mates, fades until nothing remains but dirt and blood.

A Court of Curse and Roses; acotarDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora