2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

protector—that’s who he was, and would always be. What I had wanted when I was cold
and hard and joyless; what I had needed to melt the ice of bitter years on the cusp of
starvation.
I didn’t have the nerve to wonder what I wanted or needed now. Who I had become.
So with idleness my only option, I spent my days in the library. Practicing my reading
and writing. Adding to that mental shield, brick by brick, layer by layer. Sometimes seeing
if I could summon that physical wall of solid air, too. Savoring the silence, even as it crept
into my veins, my head.
Some days, I didn’t speak to anyone at all. Even Alis.
I awoke each night, shaking and panting. And became glad when Tamlin wasn’t there to
witness it. When I, too, didn’t witness him being yanked from his dreams, cold sweat
coating his body. Or shifting into that beast and staying awake until dawn, monitoring the
estate for threats. What could I say to calm those fears, when I was the source of so many
of them?
But he returned for an extended stay about two weeks after the Tithe—and I’d decided
to try to talk, to interact. I owed it to him to try. Owed it to myself.
He seemed to have the same idea. And the first time in a while … things felt normal. Or
as normal as they could be.
I awoke one morning to the sound of low, deep voices in the hallway outside my
bedroom. Closing my eyes, I nestled into the pillow and pulled the blankets higher.
Despite our morning roll in the sheets, I’d been rising later every day—sometimes not
bothering to get out of bed until lunch.
A growl cut through the walls, and I opened my eyes again.
“Get out,” Tamlin warned.
There was a quiet response—too soft for me to make out beyond basic mumbling.
“I’ll say it one last time—”
He was interrupted by that voice, and the hair on my arms rose. I studied the tattoo on
my forearm as I did a tally. No—no, today couldn’t have come so quickly.
Kicking back the covers, I rushed to the door, realizing halfway there that I was naked.
Thanks to Tamlin, my clothes had been shredded and flung across the other side of the
room, and I had no robe in sight. I grabbed a blanket from a nearby chair and wrapped it
around me before opening the door a crack.
Sure enough, Tamlin and Rhysand stood in the hallway. Upon hearing the door open,
Rhys turned toward me. The grin that had been on his face faltered.
“Feyre.” Rhys’s eyes lingered, taking in every detail. “Are you running low on food
here?”
“What?” Tamlin demanded.