When The Last Ember Falls

Four

           

Eris:

I couldn't spend time dwelling on why Ronan was calling to me. Why he waited in the shadows to speak to me or what the hell he even is. No, because the moment I appeared in the land of wild flowers and decent weather—a raging beast appeared before me.

"Trespassing on another High Lord's land? Do you have a death wish?" Tamlin growled, onyx nails growing from his fingertips. Tuffs of golden fur began to appear down his arm as a shiver ran through him.

The figure of a broken man stood between me and the manor. As solid as the Golnarene mountains, as ill-tempered as a brush fire. Permanent circles beneath his violent eyes; I could only imagine what he saw in Hybern's camp. What nightmares flooded into view as the past burrowed its way into his chest.      

Tilting my head forward, I flashed a daring smile. "I could ask you the same but instead, here I am," I waved my hand in the air, "asking a friend how he is managing. So...how are you, Tamlin?"

Tamlin's chest puffed, raising him to his full height, "I do not consider you a friend, Eris."

"Friend? Enemy? All the same really." I took note of his careful answer; Tamlin redirecting my attention to our relationship rather than what he was doing beyond Autumn borders all those weeks ago. I dared to look away from the rabid beast, sneaking a peek at the empty gardens surrounding us. Empty? An entire court...gone? His silence distracting me from my true intentions. I waited a moment longer but when he still refused to answer, I scoffed, "you genuinely hate me? Out of all the beings in Prythian? I find that very hard to believe."

Evergreen eyes narrowed, his lip snarling upwards, "after what you've done to Lucien—"

"—I saved him," losing my self-control for only a moment, I exhaled my frustration and failures. "Who do you think sent the guards to notify you? Who do you think weakened the wards while you fetched my brother?" I smirked as understanding dampened his already sour mood, "what? Did you think that was luck?" The corner of my lips fell, as did my humor, "you should know as well as anyone, there is no such thing as luck in this world."

Tamlin returned to a table of fresh cut roses, sneering over his shoulder, "what do you want?" A variation of white and peach and purple roses...all but red. Tamlin's nails retracted into his flesh as he raised a cream-colored one to the sky, studying the wilted edges.

"Do you have any tea?" I pursed my lips when he remained quiet, "fine. I need help and so far, you're on the bottom of my list of those who hate me." Brows drawn together, I tried to understand what it is he saw in this rose. Was he infatuated with the imperfection of this particular one? Or has he finally snapped to the point of no return and speaks to the flowers?

"I can't imagine whose number one," he muttered, pressing the silky petals into his straight nose.

"That would-be Lucien...wait, Cassian. Or possibly Mor? No, no, definitely Azriel." I nodded firmly, then stopped as I thought of Nesta's fractured cheek bone.

It was me...I hated myself more than anyone else possibly could.  

Tamlin gently set the flower back onto the scuffed table, his lips twitching with amusement, "should we just say the entire Inner Circle?" A single talon pierced his skin, quickly he trimmed the stem free of thorns.

"That works too."

"Are you done avoiding my question?"

The bastard was more intelligent than I gave him credit for. "I need a healer," I replied swiftly—so fast that my words blended together and I had to repeat myself like a child avoiding reprimands from an adult. Shameful, really.