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October 26 - October 31, 2025
Rhys said, “Be on your guard.” “You sound like you’re afraid of her.” “I am.” Cassian blinked.
So Nesta had become a wolf. Armed herself with invisible teeth and claws, and learned to strike faster, deeper, more lethally. Had relished it. But when the time came to put away the wolf, she’d found it had devoured her, too.
Had let him kiss her during the final battle because of it. Barely a kiss—about all he could manage in his injured state—and yet it had shattered her entirely.
“If you think this training nonsense is going to result in you climbing into my bed, you’re delusional.” She added with a slice of a smile, “I’d sooner let in a mangy street dog.” “Oh, it’s not going to result in me climbing into your bed.” Nesta snickered, victory achieved, and had reached the stairs when he crooned, “You’ll climb into mine.”
“The first time I saw that look on your face, you were still human. Still human, and I nearly went to my knees before you.”
“Your power is a song, and one I’ve waited a very, very long time to hear, Nesta.”
“You’ve got all that magic, and you were Made yourself, even if it wasn’t by the Cauldron. You trained—you are a warrior. Can’t you find it?” Again, that silence. But a different kind. Like a thunderhead about to break. “No,” Feyre said quietly. “I can’t.” She looked to Rhys, who nodded, his eyes shining. Everyone watched Feyre now. But Feyre’s attention remained fixed upon Nesta. “I can’t risk it.” “Why?” Nesta snapped. “Because I’m pregnant.”
Never again. Never again would she be weak. Never again would she be at someone’s mercy. Never again would she fail. Never again, never again, never again.
Ataraxia, she had named that magic sword. Inner Peace.
So Cassian said, “I grew up surrounded by monsters. I’ve spent my existence fighting them. And I see you, Eris. You’re not one of them. Not even close. I think you might even be a good male.” Cassian opened the door, turning from Eris’s curled lip. “You’re just too much of a coward to act like one.”

