Unseen footage from THAT high lord meeting
Beron: I never knew a cock could be so persuasive.
Rhysand: š”
Tamlin *examining his nails*: Can't have been that persuasive. Amarantha had you to whore for fifty years, and she still wanted me.
The other High Lords:
LOL alternate reality time:
āWho knew,ā Beron mused, āthat a cock could be so persuasive?ā āFather.ā Erisās voice was low with warning.
Tamlin lounged back in his chair, clacking his nails against the table. He let out a low whistle. "Can't have been that persuasive. Amarantha had Rhys whore for her for fifty years, and she still wanted me."
Helion choked on his wine, Beron snorted, Thesan fell out of his chair, Viviane let out an audible gasp, Eris shoved his mother completely behind him, all pretense abandoned, Tarquin let out a deep sigh through his nose, Kallias remained expressionless, although his lip twitched ever so slightly, Nesta hastily coughed to cover her laughter, Cassian's hand hovered over Azriel's arm, preparing to stop him should he try to jump into a fight, while Azriel, Rhysand, Mor, and Feyre looked equal parts mortified and angry.
"Azzy, no," Cassian muttered, slapping his hand against Azriel's forearm as the shadowsinger appeared to lunge for Tamlin. "Are you crazy? He's a High Lord."
Tamlin and Beron smiled like cheshire cats as Azriel struggled, and Cassian wrapped his arms around him from behind. "Calm. Down."
Feyre and Rhysand didn't seem much better, both with wings and talons out and ready to lunge at Tamlin.
Helion took a deep swig of his wine, chuckling. "Come now, Rhysand. Don't tell me you have nothing to say?"
Rhysand glared at the Day Court High Lord before he snapped, "How is it a good thing to be that demon lady's favorite?"
Tamlin's green eyes focused on Rhysand's, a sickeningly sweet smile forming across his face. "Perhaps it isn't. But I wasn't just Amarantha's favorite. I'm your favorite too, isn't it, Rhys darling?"
Rhysand's skin drained of color. Beron looked like the Solstice had come early, Helion was smirking like an idiot, and even Kallias and Tarquin looked tuned in to the conversation now.
"What is he talking about, Rhys?" Feyre demanded, turning to Rhysand, hands on hips.
Tamlin eyed the newly mated couple, running one clawed hand down the edge of the table. "Feyre and Rhysand have only two things in common, my fellow rulers," he said almost lazily, letting the words drag out for extra effect. "The mating bond, and getting the best sex of their lives from yours truly."
Everyone gasped, and Helion actually whooped, the bastard. "I knew a shapeshifter like you had to be masterful at fucking." He stood up, walking over to Tamlin's chair and leaning over to whisper in his ear conspiratorially. "Care to give me a demonstration?"
