Aedion turned to Lysandra and snarled, "You knew"

The revelation knocks the breath out of him and he nearly feels himself unsteady. He'd thought Aelin trusted him, despite his reputation as the Whore of Ardalan. He should've known better. And Lysandra being a part of the deception caused a keening ache in his chest. He'd never felt more alone.

Lysandra did not flinch. "She asked me—that day on the boat. To help her. She told me the suspected price to banish Erawan and restore the keys. What I needed to do."

Aedion snarled, "What could you possibly …"

Lysandra lifted her chin.

Rowan breathed, "Aelin would die to forge the new Lock to seal the keys into the gate—to banish Erawan. But no one would know. No one but us. Not while you wore her skin for the rest of your life."

Aedion dragged a hand through his blood-caked hair. "But any offspring with Rowan wouldn't look anything like—"

Lysandra's face was pleading. "You would fix that, Aedion. With me."

With the golden hair, the Ashryver eyes … If that line bred true, the shifter's offspring could pass as royal. Aelin wanted Rowan on the throne—but it would be Aedion secretly siring the heirs.

Aedion flinched as if he'd been struck. "And when were you going to reveal this? Before or after I thought I was taking my gods-damned cousin to bed for whatever reason you concocted?"

He wanted to release a bitter mirthless laugh. He had been so wrong. In the end Lysandra had neither wanted nor needed Aedion the man in any capacity. She needed his sword, his experience, his reputation and his children but he, Aedion, had just been an inconvenient part of the deal.

Lysandra said softly, "I will not apologize to you. I serve her. And I am willing to spend the rest of my life pretending to be her so that her sacrifice isn't in vain—"

He wants to cut her off and yell terrible obscenities. He wants to tell her to go to hell and call her a lying bitch and hurt her with the words he knows will claw under her skin. But rage is a luxury he cannot indulge in. Right now the situation is desperate. Aelin is gone and Lorcan her betrayer is here and there's the Ironteeth witches to consider as well as the wyrd keys … as always Aelin's left a big fucking mess behind her and Aedion's getting a headache just thinking about it. He has enough experience cleaning after these messes to realize Aelin's court needs to be unified to deal with the challenge. That means not undermining Lysandra at this time. He swallows his rage and let's it boil under his skin and adds it to the churning sea of injustices of his life. He cuts her off and says, "Did I ask for your forgiveness? You did what you needed for Terrasin and Aelin."

He wonders if anyone can sense the tension in his voice, how much he wants to run away from it all and never come back, how close he is to his limit.

The smile of gratitude she gives him is wider then the sun and it almost thaws the icy rage in his heart. Just a fraction of a bit.

He salutes her and says, "Your orders?" Even though it makes him sick to his stomach.

Lysandra looks at him in shock.

"Well if you're gonna pretend to be Aelin you got to start learning how to take charge around here " he explains smiling mischievously. He can do this, he can pretend things haven't changed.

In the end, Rowan,Gavriel,Elide and Lorcan look for Aelin while Dorians goes with the Iron teeth witches as a bodyguard on their mission and to search for the wyrd key and he and Lysandra stay behind.

Lysandra approaches him when he's alone.

"Thank you for backing me up" she says quietly.

"I didn't really have a choice" he says, shrugging.

"I know you're upset with me but I'm glad you're here" she says. Her hand reaches out for his but he slaps it away before their fingers touch.

"Let's not pretend. Not about this", he says, looking pained.

She takes a step back as if he'd struck her. She pleads helplessly, "It wasn't -"

"Liar", he cuts her off, his rage building, a seething living thing in his gut. He takes a step forward into her personal space until their noses are touching.

"You are a liar, Lysandra. You lie to the world and you lie to your friends and you lie to me as easily as you breath. You even lie to yourself. I won't stand here and let you lie to my face about what we are. You can go to hell!" He spits out his anger, and vehemently wishes she would choke on it.

"Are you trying to hurt me?" Lysandra asks calmly, wiping off his spit from her face, "because it's not working".

He steps back and holds his hands to his heart in a mock gesture of innocence, "Little old me? Now how would I do that? In order to hurt you I'd have to know you and as we've clearly established, I don't know you at all".

He leaves then, too angry to be in her presence any longer. He leaves with the knowledge settling in his bones that he is more alone than ever. That he will always be alone.

He does not see Lysandra crumple to her knees, sobbing.