You felt the ripple in the darkness without having to look up, and didn’t flinch at the soft footsteps that approached. You didn’t bother hoping that it would be Tamlin. “Still weeping?” Rhysand. You didn’t lower your hands from your face. The floor rose toward the lowering ceiling—you would soon be flattened. There was no color, no light here. “You’ve just beaten her second task. Tears are unnecessary.” You wept harder, and he laughed. The stones reverberated as he knelt before you, and though you tried to fight him, his grip was firm as he grasped your wrists and pried your hands from your face. The walls weren’t moving, and the room was open—gaping. No colors, but shades of darkness, of night. Only those star-flecked violet eyes were bright, full of color and light. He gave you a lazy smile before he leaned forward. You pulled away, but his hands were like shackles. You could do nothing as his mouth met with your cheek, and he licked away a tear. His tongue was hot against your skin, so startling that you couldn’t move as he licked away another path of salt water, and then another. You body went taut and loose all at once and you burned, even as chills shuddered along your limbs. It was only when his tongue danced along the damp edges of your lashes that you jerked back.