A Court of Dreams and Nightmares

Chapter 12

Feyre

My steps were strong and confident as I sauntered towards the bed, the soft light of the evening shining through the windows. I could feel his ravenous gaze trace the curves of my body, as he watched my every move. His green eyes blazed with an almost predatory desire that only assured me that I was doing the right thing.

"Come here." He whispered in a low guttural voice.

I forced my eyes to brighten and then fill with a hunger that was fuelled by the need to feel Rhys's hands on my body. With a last thought of my mate, I warded off the bond between us, effectively blocking him from any emotions that I would feel. He should not have to endure this – not again.

A low, primal growl escaped Tamlin's lips as I climbed on to the bed. I remained seated on top of the smooth sheets, my knees tucked beneath me and took in his massive figure. Objectively, he was very handsome. Underneath his fine clothes, his frame was lined with muscles that spoke of the strength that prowled through his body. His skin was tan and perfect, only stained by the scars which I knew were hidden beneath his clothes. I breathed in his scent, remembering a time when I had found it so intoxicating that I couldn't breathe - now it was an effort not to cringe. I still enjoyed the individual smells; Lavender, rose, cedar, but something in his smell had changed. Beneath the woven fabric of his scent I detected something else – something both mouldy and airy at the same time. What was that? I concentrated on the smell, trying to separate it from everything else. Had it always been there? My brows furrowed slightly, but before I could think any further, I had to focus on Tamlin, because he was no longer satisfied just lying on the bed. He rose to his knees before me, his green eyes fixed on my face, reading every emotion there – or at least he thought he did.

"Feyre," he breathed "I know... I know it is... Difficult for you. I cannot imagine what you went through up there. I don't want to imagine." His voice was soft, but as he continued, it turned cold. "When I think about it, it makes me want to rip apart the world."

You did, I thought, but kept it to myself. Instead I cupped his cheeks with my hands.

"It was... is difficult. I'm sorry if I've been cold to you. I'm sorry. It's just... My mind cannot seem to understand that it's over. That I am free." My mind made no internal apologies to my court this time. I did this for them.

"You are; You are home. You are safe. And together, we'll figure things out. I know we will." His hands grabbed my hips and pulled me closer, our bodies almost touching.

My temper flared by the suggestion that we had to figure out his mess. The list of things to figure out seemed to be ever growing: Helping my sisters, training with Lucien, dealing with the king, saving the mortal lands. Not to mention the situation with Ianthe. I felt the skin on my hands stretch and twist, the burst of emotion bringing my shapeshifting abilities to the forefront of my mind. I did not need to call upon my powers - they were already there, ready to be wielded. Focus my mind warned and I turned my attention to the present and the male body so close to mine.

"Tamlin..." My voice shook with what I hoped sounded like love and desire, not hidden power.

Before I could say any more, his lips crushed mine in a wild, brutal kiss. His mouth moved impatiently on mine, as his hands roamed over my body, tugging at my nightgown – he wanted bare skin. I tried to answer the kiss, but the wildness of it caught me off guard. I could fake love and desire, but true passion was difficult. He sensed my hesitation and pulled back an inch.

"Are you..." he started, but I shut him up with my lips. I needed to get on with it, before my determination faded. The iron-resolve that I had gathered in my dressing room still soared in my veins and I felt more powerful than I had ever done before.