Cassian shucked off his shirt, revealing rippling muscles covered in beautiful, intricate tattoos. Illyrian markings for luck and glory. “It’s nothing. Get into position.”
I obeyed, even as I eyed him carefully. “You’re … angry.”
He refused to speak until I started my circuit of warm-ups: various lunges, kicks, and stretches designed to loosen my muscles. And only when we’d begun sparring, his hands wrapped against my onslaught of punching, did he say, “You and Rhys hid the truth from us. And we went into Hybern blind about it.”
“About what?”
“That you’re High Lady.”
I jabbed at his raised hands in a one-two combination, breathing hard. “What difference would it have made?”
“It would have changed everything. None of it would have gone down like that.”
“Perhaps that’s why Rhys decided to keep it a secret.”
“Hybern was a disaster.”
I halted my punching. “You knew I was his mate when we went. I don’t see how being High Lady alters anything.”
“It does.”
I put my hands on my hips, ignoring his motion to continue. “Why?”
Cassian dragged a hand through his hair. “Because … because as his mate, you were still … his to protect. Oh, don’t get that look. He’s yours to protect, too. I would have laid my life down for you as his mate—and as your friend. But you were still … his.”
“And as High Lady?”
Cassian loosed a rough breath. “As High Lady, you are mine. And Azriel’s, and Mor’s and Amren’s. You belong to all of us, and we belong to you. We would not have … put you in so much danger.”
“Maybe that’s why Rhys wanted to keep it a secret. It would have changed your focus.”
“This is between you and me. And trust me, Rhys and I had … words about this.”
I lifted a brow. “You’re mad at me?”
He shook his head, eyes shuttering.
“Cassian.”
He just held up his hands in a silent order to continue.
I sighed and began again. It was only after I’d gotten through fifteen repetitions and was panting heavily that Cassian said, “You didn’t think you were essential. You saved our asses, yes, but … you didn’t think you were essential here.”
One-two, one-two, one-two. “I’m not.” He opened his mouth, but I charged ahead, speaking around my gasps for breath. “You all have a … duty—you’re all vital. Yes, I have my own abilities, but … You and Azriel were hurt, my sisters were … you know what happened to them. I did what I could to get us out. I’d rather it was me than any of you. I couldn’t have lived with the alternative.”
His upraised hands were unfaltering as I pummeled them. “Anything could have happened to you at the Spring Court.”
I stopped again. “If Rhys isn’t grilling me with the overprotective bullshit, then I don’t see why you—”
“Don’t for one moment think that Rhys wasn’t beside himself with worry. Oh, he seems collected enough, Feyre, but I know him. And every moment you were gone, he was in a panic. Yes, he knew—we knew—you could handle yourself. But it doesn’t stop us from worrying.”
I shook out my sore hands, then rubbed my already-aching arms. “You were mad at him, too.”
“If I hadn’t been healing, I would have kicked his ass from one end of Velaris to the other.”
I didn’t reply.
“We were all terrified for you.”
“I managed just fine.”
“Of course you did. We knew you would. But …” Cassian crossed his arms. “Rhys pulled the same shit fifty years ago. When he went to that damned party Amarantha threw.”
Oh. Oh.
“I’ll never forget it, you know,” he said, blowing out a breath. “The moment when he spoke to us all, mind to mind. When I realized what was happening, and that … he’d saved us. Trapped us here and tied our hands, but …” He scratched at his temple. “It went quiet—in my head. In a way it hadn’t been before. Not since …” Cassian squinted at the cloudless sky. “Even with utter hell unleashing here, across our territory, I just went … quiet.” He tapped the side of his head with a finger, and frowned. “After Hybern, the healer kept me asleep while she worked on my wings. So when I woke up two weeks later … that’s when I heard. And when Mor told me what happened to you … It went quiet again.”
I swallowed against the constriction of my throat. “You found me when I needed you most, Cassian.”
“Pleased to be of service.” He gave me a grim smile. “You can rely on us, you know. Both of you. He’s inclined to do everything himself—to give everything of himself. He can’t stand to let anyone else offer up anything.” That smile faded. “Neither can you.”
“And you can?”
“It’s not easy, but yes. I’m general of his armies. Part of that includes knowing how to delegate. I’ve been with Rhys for over five hundred years and he still tries to do everything himself. Still thinks it’s not enough.”
I knew that—too well. And the thought of Rhys, in this war, trying to take on all that faced us … Nausea churned in my gut. “He gives orders all the time.”
“Yes. And he’s good at knowing what we excel at. But when it comes down to it …” Cassian adjusted the wrappings on his hands. “If the High Lords and Keir don’t step up, he’ll still face Hybern. And will take the brunt of it so we don’t have to.”
An unshakable, queasy sort of tightness pushed in on me. Rhys would survive—he wouldn’t dare sacrifice everything to make sure we—
Rhys would. He had with Amarantha, and he’d do it again without hesitation.
I shut it out. Shoved it down. Focused on my breathing.
Something drew Cassian’s attention behind me. And even as his body remained casual, a predatory gleam flickered in his eyes.
I didn’t need to turn to know who was standing there.
“Care to join?” Cassian purred.
Nesta said, “It doesn’t look like you’re exercising anything other than your mouths.”
I looked over my shoulder. My sister was in a dress of pale blue that turned her skin golden, her hair swept up, her back a stiff column. I scrambled to say something, to apologize, but … not in front of him. She wouldn’t want this conversation in front of Cassian.