A Court of Innocents

9: Homecoming

With the intensity in his eyes as he stared at me, I knew Tamlin wasn't playing around. He actually intended to kill me.

I couldn't speak as I took him in. Clad in shades of brown and yellow, he looked like the personification of springtime. His golden hair was tied back in a knot. I couldn't look away from the intensity of his eyes. Even now, as they were filled with anger aimed at me, I couldn't help but notice the beautiful shades of green in them.

Behind me, leaves crunched under Lucien's feet as he stepped in my direction. "Tamlin, we come in peace."

The High Lord said nothing. He didn't so much as lower his bow an inch. His gaze never wavered, as if all he could see and hear was me.

"You don't want to do this," Lucien insisted. "She's a friend."

"You tried to kill me," he spat at me. If I was in my right mind, I'd have already snapped that bow in two. But I couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but stare at the beauty of my mate—and the hate in his eyes, aimed solely at me.

"It was a mistake." The gravel beneath Lucien's feet crunched again as he took another step towards me, trying to put himself between me and the pissed off High Lord. "She wishes to apologize."

I'd never said that, but if it was an apology Tamlin wanted, I would give it to him. My heart raced as I realized—I realized I would give him anything and everything, so long as it made him happy.

In Velaris, with multiple courts and countless miles between us, it had been easier to ignore the tug of the mating bond. But now, with mere feet between me and Tamlin, the desire to please him, to make him the happiest man in the world, couldn't be ignored.

Tamlin narrowed his eyes. "Apologize. Then I might spare your life."

It was a struggle to remember how to speak and not just gape at him. But when I opened my mouth, all I could say was, "Tamlin." The adoration in my voice was more than obvious.

Lucien was surprised enough to rip his eyes from the High Lord and frown at me.

Tamlin merely growled. An apology—that was what he wanted.

So I did. I apologized. And I sincerely meant it, though I never told either man exactly why. Still, it was genuine enough to please Tamlin.

The strings groaned as he loosened his grip on the arrow and lowered his weapon.

Lucien put a calculated step between me and Tamlin. "We've come to—"

"I know why you're here," he spat. "I received the letter last night."

I sent a letter off to warn Tamlin that I'll be sending two members of my Inner Circle to his court, Rhysand had said at that meeting just two days ago. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Tamlin continued, "Very much like Rhysand, to make it so I had no time to build up my defenses, and no choice but to bring you into my home." He glanced between us. "He must have thought himself smart, picking you two as emissaries. Thinking I'd trust either of you more than anyone else in that cult he calls the Inner Circle."

"It was Yara's idea, actually," Lucien pointed out, as if that would help anything.

Tamlin's eyes narrowed at me.

"We're here," Lucien continued, desperate to take the High Lord's attention off of me, "to prove to you that the Night Court can be trusted. To show you that making an alliance with us will benefit both courts."

"And how do you intend to gain my trust after everything the two of you have done to me?" he questioned.

Lucien turned to me, waiting for me to give input. To say anything at all.