Not consort, not wife. Feyre is High Lady of the Night Court. My equal in every way; she would wear my crown, sit on a throne beside mine. Never sidelined, never designated to breeding and parties and child rearing. My queen.

And so Tamlin unwittingly led the High Lady of the Night Court into the heart of his territory.

What have you done to me?"
Rhysand stood, running a hand through his short, dark hair. It's custom in my court for bargains to be permanently marked upon flesh."
I rubbed my left forearm and hand, the entirety of which was now covered in swirls and whorls of black ink. Even my fingers weren't spared, and a large eye was tattooed in the center of my palm. It was feline, and its slitted pupil stared right back me.
"Make it go away," I said, and he laughed.
"You humans are truly grateful creatures, aren't you?

As Cassian drew twin Illyrian blades, the sight of them like home, and said to Eris with lethal calm, “I suggest you drop my lady.

I glanced at my mate- the male who had always presented me with a choice not as a gift, but as my own gods-given right.

It took me a long while to realize that Rhysand, whether he knew it or not, had effectively kept me from shattering completely.