Tamlin landed in the front drive of the manor in the Spring Court, your hand in his and Lucien, Tamlin’s emissary, appearing just behind the two of you.

You fought the urge to glare at Tamlin, to rip your hand away from his firm grip.

Your real mate, the man you loved more than words can describe, was Rhys, the High Lord of the Night Court. You had originally been in love with Tamlin, the two of you connecting more than a bond had ever been accepted in fate before. Time passed by, and while he still was loving and sweet, he had been more…distant.

He had locked you in the manor and exploded, and Rhys had saved you, bringing you to the Night Court, the familiar place where you went for one week each month after you had made a desperate deal with you about to die.

You had learned so much and developed so much, you and Rhys in love and his inner circle your new home, and you realized that Tamlin had killed Rhys’s family and was a traitor.

But Tamlin had gotten his hands back on you, after a terrifying experience forcing you to save Rhys and his court. You pretended to still be in love with Tamlin, that Rhys had put a mind spell on you and you’d broken free from it. And now you were to pretend to be in love with Tamlin while spying on his court as Prythian prepared for war.

Lucien slightly knew your plan, he felt like you were pretending, and yet Tamlin believed you. He loved you. He took your hand in his huge one and placed a hand on your back, guiding you towards the manor.