I wanted to rip that finger right off Tamlin’s hand. And feed it to the Middengard Wyrm.

The silvery glow about Kallias dulled.

Even Viviane seemed to dim. “We came here to decide that for ourselves.”

Mor was staring at her friend in quiet question. Viviane, for the first time since we’d arrived, did not look toward her. Only at her mate.

Rhys said softly to them, to everyone, “I had no involvement in that. None.”

Kallias’s eyes flared like blue flame. “You stood beside her throne while the order was given.”

I watched, stomach twisting, as Rhys’s golden skin paled. “I tried to stop it.”

“Tell that to the parents of the two dozen younglings she butchered,” Kallias said. “That you tried.”

I had forgotten. Forgotten that bit of Amarantha’s despicable history. It had happened while I was still at the Spring Court—a report one of Lucien’s contacts at the Winter Court managed to smuggle out. Of two dozen children killed by the “blight.” By Amarantha.

Rhys’s mouth tightened. “There is not one day that passes when I don’t remember it,” he said to Kallias, to Viviane. To their companions. “Not one day.”

I hadn’t known.

He had told me once, all those months ago, that there were memories he could not bring himself to share—even with me. I had assumed it was only in regard to what Amarantha had done to him. Not … what he might have been forced to witness, too. Forced to endure, bound and trapped.

And standing by, leashed to Amarantha, while she ordered the murder of those children—

“Remembering,” Kallias said, “doesn’t bring them back, does it?”

“No,” Rhys said plainly. “No, it doesn’t. And I am now fighting to make sure it never happens again.”

Viviane glanced between her husband and Rhys. “I was not present Under the Mountain. But I would hear, High Lord, how you tried to—stop her.” Pain tightened her face. She, too, had been unable to prevent it while she guarded her small slice of the territory.

Rhys said nothing.

Beron snorted. “Finally speechless, Rhysand?”

I put a hand on Rhys’s arm. I had no doubt Tamlin marked it. And I didn’t care. I said to my mate, not bothering to keep my voice down, “I believe you.”

“Says the woman,” Beron countered, “who gave an innocent girl’s name in her stead—for Amarantha to butcher as well.”

I blocked out the words, the memory of Clare.

Rhys swallowed. I tightened my grip on his arm.

His voice was rough as he said to Kallias, “When your people rebelled …” They had, I recalled. Winter had rebelled against Amarantha. And the children … that had been Amarantha’s answer. Her punishment for the disobedience. “She was furious. She wanted you dead, Kallias.”

Viviane’s face drained of color.

Rhys went on, “I … convinced her that it would serve little purpose.”

“Who knew,” Beron mused, “that a cock could be so persuasive?”

“Father.” Eris’s voice was low with warning.

For Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and I had fixed our gazes upon Beron. And none of us were smiling.

Perhaps Eris would be High Lord sooner than he planned.

But Rhys went on to Kallias, “She backed off the idea of killing you. Your rebels were dead—I convinced her it was enough. I thought it was the end of it.” His breathing hitched slightly. “I only found out when you did. I think she viewed my defense of you as a warning sign—she didn’t tell me any of it. And she kept me … confined. I tried to break into the minds of the soldiers she sent, but her damper on my power was too strong to hold them—and it was already done. She … she sent a daemati with them. To …” He faltered. The children’s minds—they’d been shattered. Rhys swallowed. “I think she wanted you to suspect me. To keep us from ever allying against her.”

What he must have witnessed within those soldiers’ minds …

“Where did she confine you?” The question came from Viviane, her arms wrapped around her middle.

I wasn’t entirely ready for it when Rhys said, “Her bedroom.”

My friends did not hide their rage, their grief at the details he’d kept even from them.

“Stories and words,” Tamlin said, lounging in his chair. “Is there any proof?”

“Proof—” Cassian snarled, half rising in his seat, wings starting to flare.

“No,” Rhys cut in as Mor blocked Cassian with an arm, forcing him to sit. Rhys added to Kallias, “But I swear it—upon my mate’s life.” His hand at last rested atop mine.

For the first time since I’d known him, Rhys’s skin was clammy.

I reached down the bond, even as Rhys held Kallias’s stare. I did not have any words. Only myself—only my soul, as I curled up against his towering shields of black adamant.

He’d known what coming here, presented just as we were, would cost him. What he might have to reveal beyond the wings he loved so dearly.

Tamlin rolled his eyes. It took every scrap of restraint to keep me from lunging for him—from ripping out those eyes.

But whatever Kallias read in Rhys’s face, his words … He pinned Tamlin with a hard stare as he asked again, “Why are you here, Tamlin?”

A muscle flickered in Tamlin’s jaw. “I am here to help you fight against Hybern.”

“Bullshit,” Cassian muttered.

Tamlin glowered at him. Cassian, folding his wings in neatly as he leaned back in his chair once more, just offered a crooked grin in return.

“You will forgive us,” Thesan interrupted gracefully, “if we are doubtful. And hesitant to share any plans.”

“Even when I have information on Hybern’s movements?”

Silence. Tarquin, across the pool, watched and listened—either because he was the youngest of them, or perhaps he knew some advantage lay in letting us battle it out ourselves.

Tamlin smiled at me. “Why do you think I invited them to the house? Into my lands?” He let out a low snarl, and I felt Rhys tensing as Tamlin said to me, “I once told you I would fight against tyranny, against that sort of evil. Did you think you were enough to turn me from that?” His teeth shone white as bone. “It was so easy for you to call me a monster, despite all I did for you, for your family.” A sneer toward Nesta, who was frowning with distaste. “Yet you witnessed all that he did Under the Mountain, and still spread your legs for him. Fitting, I suppose. He whored for Amarantha for decades. Why shouldn’t you be his whore in return?”

“Watch your mouth,” Mor snapped. I was having difficulty swallowing—breathing.

Tamlin ignored her wholly and waved a hand toward Rhysand’s wings. “I sometimes forget—what you are. Have the masks come off now, or is this another ploy?”

“You’re beginning to become tedious, Tamlin,” Helion said, propping his head on a hand. “Take your lovers’ spat elsewhere and let the rest of us discuss this war.”

“You’d be all too happy for war, considering how well you made out in the last one.”

“No one says war can’t be lucrative,” Helion countered. Tamlin’s lip curled in a silent snarl that made me wonder if he’d gone to Helion to break my bargain with Rhys—if Helion had refused.