2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

“One,” Cassian counted. Again, I struck, one-two. “Two. And fine is good—fine is
great.”
Again, again, again.
We both knew “fine” was a lie.
I had done everything—everything for that love. I had ripped myself to shreds, I had
killed innocents and debased myself, and he had sat beside Amarantha on that throne. And
he couldn’t do anything, hadn’t risked it—hadn’t risked being caught until there was one
night left, and all he’d wanted to do wasn’t free me, but fuck me, and—
Again, again, again. One-two; one-two; one-two—
And when Amarantha had broken me, when she had snapped my bones and made my
blood boil in its veins, he’d just knelt and begged her. He hadn’t tried to kill her, hadn’t
crawled for me. Yes, he’d fought for me—but I’d fought harder for him.
Again, again, again, each pound of my fists on the sparring pads a question and an
answer.
And he had the nerve once his powers were back to shove me into a cage. The nerve to
say I was no longer useful; I was to be cloistered for his peace of mind. He’d given me
everything I needed to become myself, to feel safe, and when he got what he wanted—
when he got his power back, his lands back … he stopped trying. He was still good, still
Tamlin, but he was just … wrong.
And then I was sobbing through my clenched teeth, the tears washing away that
infected wound, and I didn’t care that Cassian was there, or Rhys or Azriel.
The clashing steel stopped.
And then my fists connected with bare skin, and I realized I’d punched through the
sparring pads—no, burned through them, and—
And I stopped, too.
The wrappings around my hands were now mere smudges of soot. Cassian’s upraised
palms remained before me—ready to take the blow, if I needed to make it. “I’m all right,”
he said quietly. Gently.
And maybe I was exhausted and broken, but I breathed, “I killed them.”
I hadn’t said the words aloud since it had happened.
Cassian’s lips tightened. “I know.” Not condemnation, not praise. But grim
understanding.
My hands slackened as another shuddering sob worked its way through me. “It should
have been me.”
And there it was.
Standing there under the cloudless sky, the winter sun beating on my head, nothing
around me save for rock, no shadows in which to hide, nothing to cling to … There it was.