Velaria woke to complete darkness in a dry, dusty room. She pressed her hands on the ground, feeling the grooves and bumps of the cool stone. She tried to stand up on quaking legs and stumbled towards a wall she could barely make out.

Her body jerked back as an invisible force blocked her from moving. She touched a trembling hand to her wrist, finding cool iron. Following the chain attached to the shackle down she found it attached to the ground.

Velaria took a deep breath and began to feel her way around the room. She couldn't touch the front wall, but she found after some trial and error that she couldn't make it to the right wall or the left.

"Last one," she muttered to herself, carefully inching backwards until–

Velaria bumped into something sticky. She turned around and felt around, her chains straining against her. The back wall was coated in something tacky, not sticky enough to keep her attached but gooey.

Something began to clank, to unlatch, and Velaria whipped around to the sound coming from the front wall.

Light streamed in, and she held up a hand to shield her eyes from the brightness. Velaria could see clearly the walls, the cobblestone floor, the tinted substance lining the walls.

A figure stepped into the room, broadbacked and shoulders set.

Velaria snarled at Tamlin, moving as close as her chains would allow. "You bastard–"

Tamlin held up a hand, smirking. "Hush, dear Velaria, hush."

Velaria struggled against the chains, trying to move even closer to Tamlin, who was still a couple feet away, when a sharp pain stabbed through her stomach. She looked down to find bandages, soaked with dried blood, her blood, wrapped neatly around her abdomen.

"I couldn't just leave you hurt," Tamlin murmured, closing the gap between them himself. "I had my best healers work on you."

"What are you doing, Tamlin?" Velaria snarled. "What did you do last night?"

"That was actually two days ago," Tamlin said, eyes trained on her, "and I am making things right, as I said."

"What are you even talking about?" Velaria demanded.

Tamlin inhaled, the breath long and slow. He narrowed his emerald eyes on Velaria as she remembered the purple they had been. "I recently found a paper, stuffed into a book in an ancient library. Your father's handwriting was on it, hastily scribbled in the book's margins he had written, 'In the Night Court, can make High King.'" Tamlin chuckled. "Your father had plans to overthrow mine and every other High Lord, and to make himself High King of Prythian."

"No..." Velaria whispered. Her father had been ambitious, ruthless, had chained her to a loveless marriage for his own spiteful gains, had killed his own brothers to make himself High Lord. She had always known he would go farther, but never knew how far he would go, and what he was willing to sacrifice.

"The paper detailed how a person could make himself the most powerful fae in all of Prythian history. Do you know who currently holds that title, Velaria?"

Velaria closed her eyes, turning her face away from him. "No."

Tamlin was there in a flash, grasping her chin with brute force. "You, Velaria," he hissed, his breath warm on her face. "Not your brother, or your father, but you."

"I am not more powerful than Rhysand, or my father," Velaria snapped. "I'm nothing more than a status symbol in my court. I was a useless princess in my father's, and I do nothing in my brother's."

"I saw the strength you used to push me," Tamlin said. "I saw the telltale signs that my own brother started showing when my father chose him as the next High Lord of Spring. I saw them centuries ago, and I saw them weeks ago. But I am not my brother, and I have my title by default. I have worked my ass off to keep it, and the only threat in the last FIVE CENTURIES was your brother's mate, who I brought to Prythian to PROTECT MY COURT. She dismantled my court, broke my people's trust in me, and made sure every other High Lord knew what monster she thought I was.

"I am a disgraced High Lord with a throne and title I did not earn. The stone your father was researching, and the box containing it and its instructions, will make me powerful enough to claim a title I truly deserve," Tamlin snarled. "The title of High King of Prythian."

Velaria was silent, shock rendering her speechless. "You're fucking insane," she breathed. "Insane. You are not the male I knew."

Tamlin seized Velaria's throat, his grip constricting and threatening to choke the life out of her. She coughed and spluttered, trying to claw at his arm.

"That male is dead," Tamlin spat. "You killed him when you killed the rest of my family." He released his grip on Velaria and she coughed.

"Your precious family was going to kill me," Velaria said, gasping.

Tamlin snorted. "And their lives were less important than your own? You were betrothed to my brother, made friends with me, and all along you planned to betray them to worm your way out of your betrothal and make your way back to your mate."

Velaria froze. "How do you know he's my mate?"

Tamlin's gaze was cold, his expression set. "He told me, when he came to my house and begged for my help," he said. "I'm the only one alive beside you who had a memory of the day you died, Velaria."

The thought of Azriel begging Tamlin, needing his help, terrified her. She didn't want Az anywhere near this estranged High Lord–

Holy shit. Rhys. Rhys was possessed by Tamlin, had fallen prey to his spell. Was Az alive still, or was he possessed alongside the rest of her court?

Tamlin smirked at the look of horror spreading up Velaria's face. "Wondering how your mate is doing now? I bet you're thanking the Mother that the shadowsinger was not in attendance," he said. Then he narrowed his eyes at Velaria. "Where did your shadows go?"

"Up your ass," Velaria snarled.

Then something sliced into her cheek, the pain stinging. Velaria clutched her face, her hand coming back red with blood. She looked up to find Tamlin, panting, claws out.

Tamlin smiled, the smile feral, at her, bringing a hand to his mouth and licking her blood off of the claw that had pierced her.

Disgust roiled through Velaria. "What did you do to my family?"

"I sent Rhysand and Cassian home," Tamlin said, looking utterly pleased with himself. "From what I've heard, they've imprisoned Feyre and Morrigan. Amren and Azriel, however, have escaped." He frowned.

"Send me to them, then," Velaria growled. "Why are you keeping me here?"

Tamlin titled his head, smirking. "I'm glad you asked," he said. "You see, my own power combined with the stone is not enough to make me High Lord with the spell the ancient fae wrote. I need more power than what I currently have."

"I won't help you."

"Did you miss the part where it was a choice, dear Velaria?"

"Don't call me that."

Instead of getting upset again, Tamlin just smiled. "I forgot to mention. Your dear shadowsinger did escape, but he escaped right into my army's hands."

Tamlin snapped a finger and two sentries came in, forcefully dragging a bloodied and bruised Azriel.

✿ ↬ - - - ↫ ✿

Feyre

A whimper sounded through the dungeon they had been forced into, coming from her cell.

Feyre got up, her muscles aching, crawling over to where the sound was coming from. She got to Mor, taking her head and placing it in her own lap, stroking Mor's bloody hair.

"It's okay, it's okay," Feyre murmured.

Mor shifted, looking up at her High Lady. "How are you not more terrified?" she asked hoarsely. "Your babe is with Rhysand and Cassian, or whoever they are right now."

"I am fucking terrified," Feyre said after a moment. It was true. Every moment in this dungeon had been spent with terror clawing its way down her spine, every breath ragged and panicked. "But what I am not is defeated."

She feared for Nyx, worried for her babe every moment that he was still with Rhysand, but could only hope that Rhysand's fatherly instinct to protect was stronger than whatever spell he was under.

"They don't have Amren, or Azriel," Feyre said quietly. "And I know Tamlin – at least, I thought I did – and I don't believe that he would bring harm to Velaria."

"How can you be so sure?" Mor croaked, sitting up. Her hair was matted in clumps of dried blood, and dirty streaked her skin and clothes. "Tamlin was able to possess Rhys. Who knows what else he is able to do with that power?"

"I don't know, but hope is all we have," Feyre murmured, and Mor laid her head back down onto Feyre's lap.

✿ ↬ - - - ↫ ✿

Velaria screamed, immediately regretting every moment she had spent with Azriel the past couple of weeks, regretting how she had not spent more time with him, regretting slamming that door in his face...

Tamlin grinned at Velaria. "Dear, sweet Velaria, you have two choices," he said. "Become my wife, my High Queen, and our offspring will rule Prythian. Or..."

Bile rose in Velaria's throat at the thought of having children with Tamlin. The only person she would ever consider being with was right in front of her, broken and still so beautiful. He was close to death, she could scent it. She would not lose him, would not lose him before she got to tell him she loved him.

"Or you resist, I kill Azriel, and I will use the stone for a different purpose," Tamlin said. "I will take your powers from you."

"You can't do that."

"The stone grants the user with powers of the mind and the soul," Tamlin hissed. "Wielding it, I can not only get past any skilled fae's shields, your brother's shields, but I can also rip apart the very fragments of one's soul. I can destroy, or take their powers. Anything tethered to a soul is mine for the taking."

"Don't – don't – please, Tamlin, don't destroy my mating bond," Velaria begged, her heart dropping.

"Now, why would I do that? If you resist, that will make Azriel's death that much more painful," Tamlin said maliciously.

A single tear slipped down Velaria's cheek. She turned to her mate. "Az...I'm sorry, for everything. I'm sorry for every time I got you into trouble, for everything my father did to you. I'm sorry for not telling you about the bond sooner, and for abandoning you these past couple of weeks.

"I miss you, Az. You're my best friend, my mate, you're my everything. I shouldn't have forced you to decide. I miss being your best friend, I miss being your mate. You always made me feel like so much more than just Rhysand's sister, or the High Lord's useless daughter." Velaria gulped, tears streaming now. "I'm sorry for trying to die with the rest of the Valkyrie, and getting upset at you when you didn't let me. I'm sorry for every scheme, every plan I refused to tell you about.

"What I am not sorry about, what I will never be sorry about, is for being your best friend. You are beautiful, Az, you are brave, and you are kind. You are sweet and strong, and any female would be lucky to have you. You didn't tell me, Az, but I know everything you experienced," Velaria said, her voice strained. "I felt all of it through the bond. The bond was gone, glamored for you, but for me, it was the only thing that kept me tethered all those years. I love you, and I am so happy to have gotten to be your mate, even if it was on borrowed time."

Before anyone could react, Velaria drew a hidden blade from inside her sleeve and stabbed herself in the heart.

The last thing she saw was Tamlin shouting as she collapsed onto the ground, and the world faded back into darkness.