Acotar and Tog [Discontinued, Will be deleted]

To the Stars Who Listen

Feyre’s chin dipped lower towards her chest, the grey of her eyes twinkling. “ Anything?” she asked me, causing my brow to lift at the suggestion. Her voice became breathy - sensual. As she thought of him . “If I fucked him for it, what would you do?”

When Feyre finished the question, it wasn’t the High Lord of the Night Court, nor even her friend who reacted. It was that same primal beast who prowled beneath my skin, the one I’d felt walking the breezeways as another male looked at my mate.

A rush of blood moved through me, making my muscles tense. Indeed the wood on the dresser groaned beneath my hands as I fought off the urge to let predatory instinct take over and unleash my talons so I could protect what felt like mine, even if it really wasn’t.

And that mouth of hers - the things it said, the things it might do .

And I knew right then looking at it exactly what I would do if Tarquin fucked her. And I wasn’t proud of it.

“You say such atrocious things,” I said, the closest I could manage to confronting the issue that burned up the mere inches separating us without seizing her lips then and there. I held off a moment longer to finish swallowing my pride. “You are always free to do what you want, with whomever you want. So if you want to ride him, go ahead.”

Somehow, the words costed me a great deal more than they had when I’d teased Feyre with Cassian outside the Weaver’s cottage.

And Feyre knew it. “Maybe I will,” she said, keeping hold of my gaze.

Our lips were close, her forehead nearly touching mine. She was smaller and larger than me at the same time with all that power rolling about under her skin, drifting off of her in waves. It drove me mad.

“Fine,” I said.

“Fine.” She didn’t move at all.

Neither of us did. “Do not jeopardize this mission.”

And I swore I could see the sea itself rise up in a wave within those eyes of hers, washing the grey away into that bright crystalline blue that appeared when she felt too much. This was the first time ‘too much’ had felt good rather than worrisome.

There was a candle sitting on her dresser. I motioned toward it, but didn’t take my eyes off her. “Light it,” I challenged.

Feyre lingered on me for an added second, and then looked at the candle. Her body hummed with the power, so strong I felt as though I could reach out and taste it straight off her tongue. She looked at the candle, her mind reaching for that glowing power of the Autumn Court, but a tidal wave rose, crested, and fell with a mighty crash instead.

The dresser was soaked, never mind the candle.

Feyre finally didn’t look quite so incensed at me as she took in the mess. I laughed. “Can’t you ever follow orders?”

A million beads of water rose gracefully into the air around us sparkling like diamonds. I almost stepped back as I took the sight of them in. They were gentle. Peaceful. And looked of everything I felt when the Darkness was all around me.

A gift to Feyre from another High Lord - one Feyre found herself inclined toward.

She had never summoned darkness so easily, nor even at all, after days in the Night Court. Yet here she was not even two hours in the Summer Court with a different sea and salt scent drifting out of her.

“I suggest you not show Tarquin that little trick in the bedroom,” I said, and felt all of those glimmering beadlets pummel me before I could so much as blink.