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Chapter Text

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Feyre

I watched the curtains billow in my bedroom, the open window letting in the fresh air and the sounds of Velaris.

After a few weeks in the Night Court, I wondered if it was that thrum of the city that helped to sometimes keep my nightmares at bay.

Even across the Sidra and tucked up against the red mountains, the lively bustle of Velaris still managed to creep into the townhouse. With the roaring fires Nuala and Cerridwen kept, I had taken to leaving the window open a crack before bed to let in the cold night air.

I liked staying tucked under the heavy pillowed duvet while the winter breeze cooled my cheeks. I liked it even better on the nights I woke from a nightmare to a cold room, the fresh air wicking at my sweat, the clean, strong smell of the ocean air filling my lungs. It seemed to help me come back to myself, to ground me.

But if I was being honest, it was the sounds I liked the most.

Here in Velaris, I was discovering all sorts of new things.

Once I had thought I liked the lonesome quiet of the winter woods best. Of the nights when only the moon was my companion.

But maybe I had loved it once because it had been my only refuge.

Velaris sometimes reminded me of the old childhood thrill of my mother’s parties. I remembered watching them from the second floor of our manor, the imprint of the rungs of the grand stairwell forming on my forehead, pressed gainst them hard to better see the party below. I stayed there in my ruffled pajamas, one ear always listening for the footsteps of my nursemaid.

When I got older, those grand sounds of music and tinkling glass found me again in the forest. On the sweltering summer nights I would sleep there, the dewy grass a cooler bed than the room I shared with my sisters.

On the right nights, the forest sang me to sleep. The call of the frogs, cry of the crickets, the excited chirps of coyote packs greeting one another. Fireflies would dance in the dark in front of the rustling green branches. A stretch of stars blinked in and out of view as the branches dipped and bowed in the wind. Those nights I would drift to sleep, surrounded by the endless buzz of life.

And now, there was Velaris.

I had never been to a city before. Only ever saw a few maps in Father’s travel tomes so very long ago. I had never learned enough to read the written logs of the sailors and merchants stacked around his office. So I never learned how loud cities could be, how they danced with life late into the night. How dawn broke on both the early risers and the smell of baking bread along with the revelers still sparkling in their finery as they danced down the streets.

It could be…uncomfortable. To be reminded of all the life there was out in the world. The emptiness inside of me had muted everything, but Velaris showed me a glimpse of all the amazing, beautiful things I had yet to see in this world.

Sometimes, the very thought was enough to send me back to bed.

But sometimes, almost unexpectedly, there was some glimmer there, like the moon through my curtains.

This fae body was still new, sometimes unfamiliar. But at times I found myself flexing, as if to test it. Felt the ache of new muscles forming as I trained. Stroked that power that curled up against my bones.

Now and then, as music drifted through the city and out onto the vast ocean, I found myself thinking about what eternity meant.

The Night Court, the townhouse, all that was new too. Filled with other odd sounds I was slowly getting comfortable with. Not the shuffle of sentries and the metallic clank of their armor, but the bellowing laughter of Cassian and soft steady tone of Azriel’s voice when they stayed late drinking. Rhysand’s smooth voice inescapable, climbing up the stairs and reverberating through my door.

So new and strange. That sound of his laughter, the sight of his curling smile. The one that still could inflame my ire but suddenly wasn’t so…villainous.

Maybe I was foolish, but thinking about Rhys was still too much for the numb haze in my head. It was easier not to think, to let myself get swept away in his scheming and planning against Hybern. And if it was odd that this high fae who used to be my enemy now sat across from me in the mornings, taking toast and tea, then that was something I’d have to contemplate another day.

Even if I had lost my mind, I was sleeping better a few doors down from the fearsome High Lord of the Night Court than I had in months. And somehow, that awe-inspiring, endless power didn’t seem so intimidating as he paged through yet another book in front of the living room fire each night.

I sighed, turning my pillow to the cool side as I willed sleep to come.

The final theater show in the city must have just ended, because the sounds of conversation and the laughter of a crowd were echoing off the stones and water. It felt warm, and happy, like a friend right here in my room with me. Like I wasn’t alone.

All of these strange new sounds. Confusing but also…welcome.

Perhaps that’s why I was so unsettled when I finally fell asleep, and dreamed of silence.

After the quiet, it was the pain I noticed next. A pulsing headache in my skull like a pounding hammer. But beneath that - a bridge, tethered and locked to my mind, pulled impossibly taut.

And the mind at the end - so familiar, almost like hearing a voice echoing through a deep cave -

Elain?

As if that tether was an actual rope in my hand, I felt for it inside and yanked.

With a sickening rush of magic, I was in Elain’s mind, looking through her eyes. The sensation of her was all around me - permeating every thought and feeling, still under that pulsing, thrumming pain.

And now something else - panic.

I felt like a haunting spirit inhabiting her body. Her limbs were heavy and frozen from sleep. I didn’t even know if her eyes were open or if I was seeing beyond them as I cast my gaze over the room.

The quickening thud of her heart matched my own. Panic inside her that made my pulse soar from across Prythian.

Frosty moonlight streamed through the tall window panes, the only light in the room.

Glistening off slitted yellow eyes.

The Attor’s face stared back at Elain.

Fear gripped my heart like a vice.

The yellow eyes blinked.

The moon lit harsh silver light against grey leathered skin, the glint against claws reaching for the glass.

This was not a dream.

I was a world away - in Elain’s mind but my body in my bed in Velaris, a wall and endless miles between us. And as Elain, paralyzed and terrified, thought a single word, I felt that distance between us fold like a piece of paper.

-Help!

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Rhysand

I woke in my bed feeling cold.

Morning was coming slowly to Velaris, the sky outside still mostly dark. Only a yellow-grey glow of wintry sunrise past the mountains was visible, the stars still twinkling brightly out my window.

It was so quiet, I could hear the gentle crash of the ocean waves on the shores across the city.

Something was missing, though.

My mind struggled to climb up from my deep slumber. That feeling of unease gnawing at my mind.

It wasn’t my brothers just across the Sidra in the House of Wind, their sleeping minds humming on the edge of my consciousness. And Mor had taken to staying in her own apartment in the city, except on the days we drank too much and too late into the night.

No, they were all sleeping soundly. Had left, to give me space in the townhouse.

For Feyre.

I blinked into the dark, the thought of my mate forcing my mind awake.

Feyre.

Sleeping just down the hall, mere feet away. Here, in Velaris. Just the thought of her name warmed my cold body.

Maybe her human nature was rubbing off on me, because every moment seemed of the essence when I was near her.

She had arrived in the Night Court just as she had in all other aspects of my life - like a shooting star crashing into earth.

Only these days her footsteps were so quiet on the carpet, like she wanted to dissolve into nothing, to disappear like a ghost.

But still: she was here. My mate. Heart beating and color on her face returning day by day. I coaxed her in front of danger and monitored every bite she took at meals.

I thought I had lost her several times over. Now that she was within arms’ reach, I wasn’t going to waste any opportunity.

And she didn’t need to know how everything she did drove me utterly insane.

The way I loved her had been, until now, somewhat theoretical.

A grand dream, a thing of storybooks and faerie tales. Mates and heroes and humans transformed by magic.

Now that I had her every day, sharing a table at breakfast, or napping on the couch after training, it was becoming something much more insidious.

I loved her bleary-eyed face in the morning. The way she snored softly when she was especially exhausted. The prickly stance of her body when I teased her too far. The sharp look that was starting to enter her eyes at our strategy dinners.

I let the tendrils of my power cast out and wander lazily down the hall. A reflexive action. Seeking comfort in her heartbeat and slow gentle breathing in sleep.

Feyre was no longer across the expanse of Prythian, the bond frighteningly quiet. Even on her bad days, when she was deathly quiet behind her closed bedroom door, I couldn’t resent a single moment.

Not when she was here: real, sad and fierce. Not when she had dragged me away from the days where I tortured myself alone. Not when her scent already had permeated the corners of every room of my townhouse. Not when I could make her the sweet, obsessive focal point of my every day, the tentative future forming before us.

So I made myself slow, and take a breath. She was here and I should let her sleep. I didn’t need to invade her privacy any further.

Still, as the sun slowly rose high enough to cast through the curtains and spill onto the sheets, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

I thought about how many minutes past sunrise it would be until I could see her, wake her. She had training with Cassian in an hour. If she didn’t send the wraiths away to sleep just another ten minutes, then maybe she would join me for breakfast, and I could lay eyes on her and settle this nervous feeling in my stomach.

Pieces of my dream flittered back into my mind as I woke slowly.

Marble so dark red that the splash of fresh blood upon it looked bright…

Fuck it.

I threw the covers back and grabbed a dressing gown for a modicum of decency and strode down the hall.

“Feyre?” I knocked gently at her door, the quiet of morning muffling the other sounds in the house.

Half the time she was up with the sun as well, even on the days she spent in bed. I caught glimpses of her memories down the bond sometimes, of predawn mornings hunting in the forest. Old habits that haunted, and died hard.

“Darling? I’m sorry to wake you…”

No answer.

Even as I cast my mind out again, I knew this was ridiculous. We were in Velaris, for Gods’ sake. In my own home. Even the worst of Hybern’s spies would be pulverized to dust before they got near her, if they even dared.

And somewhat selfishly, I held onto a belief that I would know instantly if harm befell her, as honed in as I was on my mate.

So what was this feeling of dread in my stomach?

“Feyre?”

I opened the door to an empty room.

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Rhysand

Darkness spilled from me like blood from a wound. Every beat of my heart filled my body with more fear and panic and seemed to echo in the enveloping night as well.

It swirled around my ankles as I paced through the dining room of the House of Wind.

“How the fuck could this have happened?”

At the head of the table, Azriel was still.

“Do you want to throw a tantrum, or do you want to find her?”

My jaw ticked as I clenched my teeth. Azriel just gave me a small smile that made my blood boil.

“We know it’s most likely to be Hybern or Tamlin. What kind of shitty spymaster do I have if enemies are getting past our wards?”

Azriel was cool, calm. A dagger in his eyes.

“You’re being irrational.”

“Irrational?” I scoffed. Feyre had been in a warded fortress in Velaris and now she was gone. “I’m fucking -”

“You care for her, and it’s clouding your decision making.”

The bastard. “Of course I’m worried about her -”

“Rhys, you need to consider the possibility that she left.”

A cold feeling spread in my gut, through my chest.

Had I done something? Had I pushed her too far, too fast?

And if she had simply walked away…she knew, she had to know that she was being hunted, that the Attor had already come for her and others would follow. Feyre wasn’t foolish. To wander Prythian on her own meant whatever dragged her there was more important than her safety.

“Think, Rhys. Take a deep breath.”

Azriel’s low, calm voice shot through the haze of my panic. I closed my eyes and pinched my nose tightly, tilting my face towards the ceiling.

Focus.

“It’s doubtful she’d go back to the Spring Court, but we know Tamlin is far from beyond taking her. Unlikely as it may be for him to get into Velaris.” I sighed, rubbing my hand down my face. “She did trust Vanserra. And there was a lady’s maid who was her companion.”

“Good. What else?”

I knew he meant well, but Azriel’s calm voice made me want to mist things.

Focusing was easier said than done, especially with this crackling, muffled feeling down the bond - something I didn’t understand but could only describe as aching.

At first what I thought was silence I had quickly discovered was more…fuzzy. Indistinct. Almost worse than absolute quiet.

She wasn’t blocking me out. Something was blocking her.

“You know her, Rhys. Where would she go?” What could panic her enough to leave the safety of Velaris in the middle of the night without a trace?

What could interrupt strong magic like the bond? Faebane? Another daemati?

“Anyone who would want her would value her far more as a hostage than a corpse. Nobody still living wants to see Feyre dead.” Sometimes I wondered if Azriel was part daemati.

But I shook my head against the fear of what that could mean. A bond interrupted. Powerful enemies. Cellblocks. Torture. Feyre alone -

I knew already that I was foolish to believe there was one place safe from it all, that Velaris could hide her away from the world. But it hadn’t stopped me from trying. Hoarding my most precious treasure away from the world, as if we could hide just a bit, find a little peace after the Mountain.

I had failed her. I had promised her safety here, a promise I had no business making. I had just needed more time - to train her, to have her embrace that power herself. But I had involved her and now…if she was being hurt, if she was in the hands of our enemies…

I felt something in me sizzle with heat and panic, and suddenly a crack had fissured through the grand dining table.

A thought scratched at the edge of my brain. I pressed a finger into the split wood.

“Her family. Her sisters, beyond the wall. If she felt they needed her -”

Of course. Of course. I moved to winnow when Azriel’s hand was hard on my arm.

“Only you can treat with a High Lord, Rhys. We have to eliminate all the options. Go see Tamlin and I’ll take Cassian to the manor as soon as I speak with my spies. Mor and Amren can keep patrolling Velaris and checking the wards.”

Impatience crackled at my skin like lightning. Yes it made sense, but…

“Rhys, consider not killing Tamlin. We might not want to start a war before we’ve found her. And if you can manage, maybe don’t reveal everything. Make him tell you.”

“I know how to interrogate someone, asshole.”

“When your mate is in danger?”

I swallowed heavily. A light danced in my brother’s eyes.

“What was that about a piece of shit spymaster?” He asked, and then disappeared with a flash of light.

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Feyre

It was cold and dark in my shelter of magic.

Ice and fire and wind and water.

Distantly, I heard the cries of my sisters. The soft lilt of Elain’s voice and the sharp cut of Nesta’s anger.

Neither of them were strong enough to cut through the storm.

I prayed they stayed far, far away from me.

Though it came from my blood, the swirling ice storm was starting to freeze on me - my skin, my hair. There were even snowflakes resting on the tips of my eyelashes.

Just feet away, the Attor groaned. Held and bound by my magic.

I couldn’t freeze time, but I could try and freeze him to the bone.

My powers were blown wide open, both of our minds cracked and gaping free, our thoughts drifting around like frantic grasshoppers in a cage.

The sense of me, of Feyre, was starting to slip away. Piece by piece through my skull. I couldn’t entirely tell where one mind began and the other ended.

I didn’t know how to stop it, how to build those shields again, everything drained out of me and clenched tight keeping him bound.

I was a born creature and I couldn’t guide my powers, couldn’t command them.

But I could keep them locked in tight, in this shield.

Just me and the monster and magic that felt strong enough to rend apart whole kingdoms.

From far away, I felt sweat drip down my temple. It turned cold and froze on my face.

I realized that my eyes had closed, frozen shut.

I could do this. I had to.

And if I had to stay in here until we both froze to death, to give myself again to keep my sisters safe…then I would do it.

Because underneath it all - the pain and confusion and fear – was the rage. My endless stubbornness.

Cold and frozen like ice that never thawed.

Your untrained powers make you more of a liability than anything…

I guess Tamlin had been right all along.

But here I felt no remorse, no need for restraint.

I would make sure the Attor would regret ever meeting Feyre Archeron.

Distantly, I sensed the thoughts of my sisters again, the worry and anger filtering through my daemati mind.

I’m sorry, I thought.

To my sisters for entangling them in my dangerous fae life.

To my father, for not getting to say goodbye.

And…to Rhysand, who had tried to prevent this - tried to warn me about my powers, the need to train them.

I knew one thing more before the muddled haze of my thoughts descended again. If the Attor’s crimes against me were not enough to deserve this end, then let it be for Rhys as well. At least I could go, repaying him this.

The last thought drifted into the air like smoke. I shivered against the cold once more, waiting.

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Chapter Text

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Rhysand

There was a finality about the crashing of the vase that made me stop short. The fragile pieces shattered and skittered over the black and white tile of the Spring Manor.

Evidence of my rage strewed across the marble.

I stepped around the pieces carefully, walking closer to the High Lord who had appeared, snarling with balled fists.

I had been in the Spring Court for ten minutes and already I knew this was pointless. Tamlin’s mind was unsurprisingly open, and I had taken the liberty of rifling through his most immediate thoughts as I had found him sitting at the breakfast table.

“You have a lot of nerve - “ Tamlin growled, shadowing the doorway.

“I do. High time you realized.”

Anger and panic were the dominant emotions swirling in Tamlin’s consciousness. I almost didn’t need to be daemati to sense it. His haggard, disheveled appearance and the heavy dark circles under his eyes certainly reflected a male for whom the world was unraveling. I could almost feel sympathy for the brute if not for…

I distracted myself by examining the drab paintings in the entryway, the fine ceramic pieces and fragrant bouquets as I probed at the odd shielded structure hidden in a corner of his mind.

Odd. Had someone finally taught the beast how to shield?

“How dare you show up here alone. The only reason you should be on my doorstep is to bring my fiance back to me.”

I couldn’t break through this shield, not without blowing his brain to bits, or at least without a little more time to crack it. It seemed so very…un-Tamlin-like, almost as if it had been placed there by someone else.

Perhaps blowing it to bits along with pieces of his skull would make me feel better. And if I got some information as well, then even Azriel couldn’t hold it entirely against me.

Still, I was here on a mission.

“I would never presume to speak for Feyre Archeron. But I believe she’s told you herself about her second thoughts around your engagement?”

Tamlin stood in all his angered glory amidst the smashed entry way, storm clouds circling in his eyes.

It took all my willpower not to bind him with magic and let him dangle from the ceiling as I worked through all the minds buzzing in his manor.

Tamlin snarled, smashing the door behind him into splinters with a fist.

I thought of Feyre, hollow-eyed and thin, subject to violence under those hands.

If there had ever been a hope of time lessening wounds, it was long gone now. Not with the fresh memory of Mor placing Feyre in my arms, utterly broken. Her pain and panic lashing out in a shield of thorny magic, the final burst of self preservation as this male let her be torn apart from the inside.

I wouldn’t forget that as long as I lived. The feeling of her slipping through my fingers even as I held her close.

And this fae - the one snarling before me, who had made the bravest woman in Prythian cower in fear. Who had torn apart her power, her self more than Amarantha ever had.

And I had let it happen, sad and broken, licking my wounds back in my court.

Never again.

“Where is she, Rhysand? You need to let me see her, speak with her. She’s not some toy for you to play with.”

Nor was she some trophy wife to lock up and ignore.

The minds of the sentries across the manor were free from thoughts of Feyre since her departure. I circled the room, avoiding the crunch of broken things under my boots. Idly, I felt again for the bond, finding nothing but that indecipherable haze. The inside of my cheek was bleeding as I put a tight, hard leash on the panic rising in my throat.

With a twist I crushed a shard of broken vase under the toe of my boot, smashed into dust.

“Now why would I bring her back, when I worked so hard to get her out in the first place?”

Tamlin was breathing heavily. “You need to let me see her. And by the Cauldron, if you’ve hurt her in any way -”

“Any more than you did, letting her wither away behind these doors?”

There they were - those piercing claws. I could clip them, one by one, further and further back towards the quick…

“What’s going on here?”

The fox stepped out from the back hall, that infernal contraption of his whirring a mile a minute in his skull.

I hid my wince at the sight of his red flaming hair.

“Ah, Lucien. Just what I needed: two hot headed males screaming at me.”

“You haven’t even -”

“I believe what the High Lord is trying to say,” Lucien interrupted, “is what brings about this unexpected visit?”

Lucien rested his hand on his belt, the ostentatious flash of his jeweled sword unmissable.

It was a wonder Tamlin ever got along without him.

I sighed, opening my mind further. This visit was pointless. And bound to lead to violence, the longer I stayed. Surely my brothers had news for me by now.

“Can’t one High Lord pay a friendly visit to another? I’ve been hearing the most ridiculous rumors about you summoning your armies around your borders - surely it can’t be true, in this time of well-earned peace.”

-Azriel…

“Shit.” My attention snapped back as Lucien rocked back on his heels. “You’ve lost her, haven’t you?”

Rage rose within me. Lucien never ceased to be an annoying, buzzing fly in all our proceedings.

Perhaps I wasn’t quite as firmly in control as I would have liked, when I let myself stalk towards him.

“What makes you say that, little Lucien?”

His eyes widened as I stalked closer. But he dared a glance back at Tamlin.

Backed up against the wall, I stepped close enough to scent him, cast him in shadow. He went a little pale but I had to give him credit, not a whiff of nervous sweat was on him.

“If you know something, fox, you best speak quickly, before I tear it out of your mind.”

The bastard had the tenacity to laugh. “Can you feel it? The decades of life she drains from you, worrying about her. Couldn’t have happened to a better High Lord.”

“Lucky for you then that I took her off your hands. I don’t know how your ego would survive if you sprouted grey hairs.”

I felt that sweat begin when I raked claws over his mind. “I’m not going to lead you to her. Especially if she escaped you.”

I released him - his mind empty of any recent dealings with her, although her fierce face seemed to undercut his daily thoughts.

“Is it true then?” Tamlin asked.

Useless - and foolish, this visit. Azriel would never let me live it down.

Pulling my jacket straight, I was annoyed to find wisps of yellow pollen had already settled on the fabric. “The whereabouts of Feyre Archeron are no longer your concern, Tamlin. Stay away from her.”

“You don’t get to dictate -”

“Oh, but Feyre does. And one day I hope she allows me to repay your treatment to her in the way you deserve.”

I hated this place. It was time to leave. I sent out another stern call to my brothers, ready to walk away but needing to know where to next.

-Feyre, please. Answer me.

But it seemed Lucien wasn’t done with me. “With all the blood on your hands, I can’t believe you’re the one eager to dole out judgement and punishment.”

I sighed. Maybe something decisive would leave me free of dealing with the two of them for another fifty years.

“I’m well aware of all your movements, Tamlin. I know you’ve been up and down these lands like a hungry dog, making offers and bargains to High Lords and witches alike.” I didn’t miss the look he and the fox shared. “How to break a bargain. How to break through the wards of my lands. Are you really so eager to entrap a female against her will?”

I straightened my sleeves at the wrist, choking on the pollen and the dust. “And I’m here to remind you that while your magic was stifled, while your lands were set upon by Amarantha’s beasts and dark servants, my land remained very much untouched. And when you have power like mine, it doesn’t take long for the armies to fall back in line. So Tamlin,” I growled, finally feeling the beast unleash, “I’m here to tell you that Feyre doesn’t want to come back. And that I’m trying very hard to enjoy my tranquility. I’d like to live my villainous life in peace and be free to do my mischief back in my dark caves and dungeons. But,” I ignored the sentries gathering at the door, “I can be persuaded. If you bring even a hint of war to my shores, if you take a step near Feyre without her consent - for that? For you? I would happily bring my full, well-fed, and deeply bored armies to the heart of Spring.”

The sky outside had darkened to a roiling, poisonous green. Perhaps a tiny show of power couldn’t hurt -

-Shit, Rhys, can you hear me?

-Cassian.

-The Archeron manor. You need to get here now.

-Feyre -

-She’s not hurt. At least, fuck, I don’t know. She’s here and we need you. Get here NOW.

I nodded to the High Lord. “Always a pleasure, Tamlin.” Then disappeared into a clap of dark thunder.

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Rhysand

The Archeron manor was a portrait of chaos.

I winnowed into the midst of dust and snow, branches of pine scattering around me.

Paintings hung off the walls in tatters. The stoic faces of the family in their finery, rent apart by magic.

The face of the youngest missing from them all.

Furniture splintered, snow and tree branches pulled in from broken windows and covering the fine marble, a cold breeze whipping through the fine curtains. Broken shards of glass and ceramic glittered in the wintry afternoon sun like diamonds.

An echo to the pristine manor I had just left a little more disheveled myself.

Out of the corner of my eye, reflecting the chaos, were two pale human faces. Eyes of slate blue and warm brown blown wide. The flare of Cassian’s wings, flush with blood, a sword in his hand. The scent of snow and sweat and fear.

And in the center of it all, a swirling, dark cascade of magic - black and purple and red, flecked with ice, glowing embers underneath frozen shards.

It was beautiful. And terrifying. Vicious and sharp.

Just like my mate.

“Put your damn weapon away.” I snarled at Cassian, the sight of brandished steel in her direction igniting my already frayed instincts.

Cassian remained unphased by me, raising an eyebrow as he sheathed the sword to his back.

My magic was reaching out to that shield of churning power when a strong hand grabbed my jacket. I whirled to meet the furious face of Nesta Archeron. “You better be more useful than this oversized bat you sent us.” Cassian grumbled behind her. “What is going on? Is it true Feyre is…inside that?”

Lightning streaked through the swirling maelstrom. A shadow of a figure - no, two - illuminated inside.

My feet carried me straight towards it, towards her, as if beckoned.

Feyre.

I worked to calm the pounding of my heart. She was here, she was alive. I didn’t know how or why, but she was within my grasp once again.

I reached out a hand, letting my fingers dip into the coiled power. Shards of ice ripped at my skin and flames burned the exposed flesh to the bone. I grit my teeth but even with shields, her vicious magic ripped right through me and I had to pull back. The flesh before my eyes healed slowly, burned and ravaged.

“She doesn’t know how to control her powers. She’s trying to contain them inside of it.”

“They saw it. The Attor.” I turned to Cassian, who nodded towards Elain, shaking and face tear-stained. “I think it’s in there with her.”

Panic surged in me again. All the work, the sacrifice and blood and death and we still weren’t free of that fucking place -

“She’s trying to protect us from him,” Elain said, her voice wavering.

Of course she was.

-Feyre? Can you hear me?

“I don’t think she knows how to let go.” Cassian said.

Feyre was trapped in there with him, that beast, and I worried she would let those unchecked powers consume them both.

And I would be damned before I let that monster take her from me again.

I knew Feyre would do anything to protect her sisters. I knew Feyre would die to protect her sisters.

The thought did nothing to calm me.

-Darling. Let me help you. Let me in.

I reached for her with my mind, my powers.

Nothing but a howling void of power. Pain and cold.

-I’m coming in Feyre.

I raised a thick shield around us in a quiet ripple of air, Nesta’s cries of protest muffled behind it. I ignored the pounding of her fists as I stepped closer to the magic separating me from my mate.

A shield of power, constructed from the magic of all the High Lords, its only purpose to keep a monster in and others out.

Bracing myself, I felt inside for that thread twined around my heart. The one that was new but oh so familiar. Always a little more electric these days, impossible to ignore.

With a strong pull, I wrapped my powers around that golden thread and stepped through time and space towards my mate.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Feyre

Against the pain and confusion: a scent, soft and familiar.

Night and darkness and snow swirling off the crags of impossible mountains. Citrus and the sea.

And a presence, powerful and unmistakable.

Someone had breached my shield.

Deep midnights and twinkling twilights and terrifying dark forest nights. The familiar one, who walked with me in shadows.

When I had winnowed, pulled like lightning to Elain, I had felt the wall like an axe to the skull. Winnowed into it so hard and from so far that I had cracked it, tearing a hole for my form to squeeze through. While it tried to rip the magic straight from my bones. Clawing me back, back, back.

When I made it through, it felt like my body was split apart into tiny fragments.

I had rushed to my family’s manor while pieces of me shattered, drifting away like blood in water.

The Attor hadn’t had time to see me coming. Spotting him lurking around Elain’s windows, in a split second of anger I had him under my nails, and my magic exploded.

In the whirling rage of ice and fire, his foul breath was in my face as we struggled, claws and teeth gnashing. I tumbled, broken, under his hands as he rasped a laugh. Silver blood already stained his teeth.

Human girl. I’ve been looking for you, he said as I struggled. Good to know when the King requires you, he need only pay a visit to your sisters to summon you.

Fractured as I was, I had rallied my magic enough to pierce his skin. To make him scream.

The horrors of him, of what happened Under the Mountain…I would never let such a fate come to my sisters.

I had silenced him with my mind - squeezing too tight, hearing the breaking of bones and rasp of compressed lungs. But once I started, I couldn’t let go.

Everything was too much, magic burning through my skin instead of running smooth beneath it.

My mind was bleeding out, powers raging in a death rattle. Piece by piece I could feel the fractures widening.

The Attor splintered under the focus of my uncontrolled daemati mind. A drop of his poisoned self bleeding into parts of me. And a clenched fist I couldn’t, wouldn’t open.

But now, I wasn’t alone anymore.

Just when I thought I could let go, to fully drift away: a soft feeling, fuzzy and weighted, like a heavy blanket draped over me. My mind was this open, frantic thing, pieces of me twisting about like hail and snow, mixed irrevocably with the Attor’s mind, power splintering me into bits.

I could accept death. I was ready. If it meant protecting my family.

-Now, darling. Not quite yet.

I didn’t see him but I could feel him. Elegant fingers pulling scraps of me out of the spinning ether. Placing them back into some form, something I had broken that he was repairing. The soft whisper of a shield around my mind, a gentle net for catching butterflies and ladybugs. Cracks fusing back together like healing bones.

I wondered how he could tell which pieces were from me - but against the unforgiving cold I sensed a gentle warm glow, something golden pulsing like a heartbeat through all the pieces of me. Lighting up the sky like stars.

-Feyre?

His mind was there too - stretched and formless, shadows curled around me. I could feel them weaving in and out of the chaos of my power. Settling over my mind like dark smoke blanketing jagged rock, smoothing out the edges.

I let out a deep breath.

My power scared even me, trapped here inside. I was chaos, death, destruction. Seas taking the earth, wind shaping the mountains, an endless eternity of frozen ice, all ricocheting in my body.

Yet he had still come.

Frozen hands were on my shoulders, across my collarbone.

I had forgotten my body. Hadn’t noticed it, tense muscles and aching joints, until Rhys had touched me. His arms slowly banded around my ribs, my waist, and he pulled me tightly against his solid chest. Heartbeat echoing in my ribcage. Holding my body together the same as he did my mind.

-I’ve got you, darling. You can let go.

No.

Something searing was spilling out into my body as I came back into it - panic ripping through my chest. My limbs shook, muscles clenched too hard for too long.

I felt my knees unbuckle and my body sagged against the steel grip of Rhys’s arms. I unclenched my jaw.

But kept my fists clenched tight.

He didn’t argue with my stubbornness, didn’t try to fight. I felt his mind up against mine, like the gentle nuzzle of a friendly cat.

Our minds became an amalgam, like painting the deep colors at twilight. Black and blue blending against the purple-red-pink of the setting sun, layered together like rich oils.

Some animal awareness deep inside of me hummed.

It was nice. His mind against mine.

When forming words was so hard.

When I forgot about my mouth and lungs, just feelings and thoughts drifting back and forth. His too - something like concern, something soft - coming through loud and clear. Like waves rocking back and forth, in answer and call.

My eyes were still closed, but maybe I was looking through his now, because I saw him. The Attor, a crumpled body. Silver blood splattered, bones shattered, swollen eyes filled with hate.

-He can’t hurt you, Feyre. You have him.

That wasn’t what I was afraid of. Not me - but Elain’s face twisted into fear and pain. Nesta gnashing out in helpless rage.

The Attor thrashed again as I dug my magic deeper into his mind, talons sharper now that clarity was returning to me, my lips curled into a snarl.

He writhed and moaned and I saw him in Rhys’s eyes exactly how I would paint him - a tableau of pain, a thousand faces of suffering across time and space, blended with one another into a terrible canvas.

Me. I was causing that. And I wouldn’t let his reign of hurt spread any farther.

Inside, a flare of something, the sense of being pleased.

A gentle hum from Rhys, his chest rumbling against my back.

I inhaled sharply when I realized how very open my mind was to him. Rhys was a ruthless, seasoned fae and wouldn’t shy away from doing what was needed. But did he enjoy it? All my blood thirstiness on display. The blood on my hands from Under the Mountain - did it open up something new and murderous in me?

Something bucked in me, wanting to withdraw, to find the separation between us, to not be so seen.

-Is it so bad that I see you, Feyre? I’m still here.

Words were still so difficult. Inside there was just the thought of blood, of the Attor’s fists shattering my bones Under the Mountain.

I remembered Rhys’s earlier restraint, choosing interrogation over death. And my sisters - flashes of their faces in my mind. Would they understand, could they? Would they look at me in disgust? See only my new fae nature - killing for anger and revenge and not for sustenance?

-Few deserve death and suffering more than him.

A shared thought between us - so familiar I wondered at first if he was pillaging my memories, until I felt myself settle into his skin. The pain of flesh torn from his body with claws, the sharp hiss of the Attor, his yellow eyes and filthy smile flashing in a dark dungeon.

I burned as I felt another chunk of flesh rent from Rhys’s body, his hands shackled above him.

-He was Amarantha’s torturer. If I was her fine blade, he was the brute force. If I displeased her or was merely bored, he delighted in being granted permission to put me back in my place.

A snarl escaped my mouth at the mere mention of her name. Perhaps I wasn’t as fully back in control as I had supposed.

The Attor cried out as I snapped more of the delicate bones of his long clawed fingers.

Rhys clutched me tighter.

His memories like waves lapped again and again over my rising anger. The oppressive weight of the mountain over me, darkness without warmth or beauty. Pain. An endless well of sadness, building decade after decade. Secrets buried deep, like a smothering hand over my mouth. The sickness at the sight of red hair.

And then something unexpectedly lovely. Golden and warm. Like a flower blooming in a sunless place -

-But - you didn’t kill him when you had the chance.

Arms banded tighter around me, my muscles trembling still, Rhys’s frozen breath on my cheek.

The way I could sink into him, fall back into him, was something unfamiliar. But not unpleasant. I had never been able to let go like this, to have someone to rely on…

-He’s your quarry, Feyre. You caught him. The only question is what you want, and what will get you what you want.

-Dead. I want him dead. I want him to suffer. I want Hybern to never come near my family again. I want him to pay for every swipe of claws against your skin.

From him, a rumble of something darker, animalistic, feral.

-We used him before to send a message, a warning back to Hybern. It seems he ignored us. Perhaps it’s time for another lesson.

-You would let me? Kill him?

-I don’t let you do anything, Feyre. I told you, he was foolish enough to be caught by Prythian’s huntress on her family’s land. Whether you take his head or merely a finger is up to you.

I was tired again, too many words and emotions coming too quickly. I let myself sink further back into him. Let my mind rest in the gentle rolling sea of him.

I let another worried thought drift towards him, a faceless king on a throne of bones, an army in waiting.

The tip of Rhys’s finger played along my collarbone. A considering movement, humming, thoughtful.

-Yes, the King of Hybern will be angry. But he knew what he was risking, sending him here. And perhaps we need to show him a bit of that Archeron spirit.

I felt the smallest bit of warmth, of myself, bloom within as I smiled.

But, -I don’t know how to do it.

All my power had been on display, let loose and free, but still I didn’t know how to hone it, how to wield it.

-Let me teach you.

I thought of the blood on his hands, killing at the whim of a cruel Queen, his servitude for so long Under the Mountain. -I can’t ask that. It’s too much.

-Not for you.

I floated for a moment in that quiet juncture of our minds, thinking. But…why?

I felt the cold sting of doubt. Rhysand needed his weapon. He needed the book. He was protecting an emissary of his Court -

-Oh, darling, is that what you’re worried about? That I don’t care enough?

He didn’t speak. Only the arm around my waist had moved, a hand resting on my stomach, just below my heart.

Under his palm, a growing warmth. A golden bridge lit up between us, a calm feeling that kept the worst of my panic at bay.

-The bargain? It does that?

A quiet hum from his chest was my only answer.

That golden tether started to glow.

A fertile land it lay in, fields of grass and flowers never ending.

No words to describe it; something vast and endless, like my powers, like the deep feet of mountains, like the roots of trees digging and transforming the earth.

Mate.

The word was just a whisper. Too big for me to comprehend. It settled into my bones, to be taken apart later.

The strongest feeling of calm. Whatever anger was in my soul, he would help me hold it. I knew this.

-Do what you will, my darling. Only come back to me after.

I breathed in, out. Cold air invigorating me, deep in my lungs. I let myself draw from that deep ocean of calm between us.

For the first time in hours, I opened my eyes.

My lashes pulled painfully against tiny fractals of ice, frozen together.

The Attor laid before me, crumpled and bound in magic and in pain.

I let the world slowly come back to me.

Breaths in and out.

Sight, sound, touch.

The shield of magic around us was now woven with darker strands of shadows, navy blue twilight, stars of purple and silver dancing through the strands. Our magic familiar.

Ours, my mind said. The magic didn’t feel frightening or sharp anymore - it was beautiful.

That feral growl echoed against me again.

“Are you here?” Rhys whispered, relief flooding the bond between us.

I hadn’t turned back to him, didn’t have the strength yet even if I wanted to. I wondered what that perfect face looked like without the mask, with the vulnerability that echoed between us.

He certainly didn’t seem to resent the pure animal comfort I took from him, still tired and shaking, letting my head fall back onto his shoulder.

I imagined the Attor in pieces now. A head spiked on the lawn. A way out of this chaos and this endless battle.

-How do I do it?

A dark thrill traveled to me through him.

The darkness in me was the same as in him. Velaris, his Inner Circle - Rhys knew what it was to sacrifice, to murder and fight and lie to protect his family.

He wouldn’t turn away.

His arms released me and my knees wobbled. But he braced my shoulders, fingers curling around my biceps, holding me steady.

“Take a breath, Feyre.” I shivered at his voice, just a little too loud outside of my head. “You need to breathe.”

Some flash of something, young and gawky Illyrians, lined up before him taking their first orders. I was a young soldier, a pupil under his tutelage. I straightened my back.

“Do you feel how you grasp him with your magic, as if you held his body under your own hands?”

I breathed deeper, feeling, observing. It was less like hands and more like…pincers, pinning his shoulders, but I flexed my power. Released my white-knuckled fist ever so slightly, trusting my magic.

The Attor squirmed, and my body jolted, but the pincers held fast.

“Good.” Rhysand murmured. “Now reach out to the edges of his mind, keeping that door open behind you. Just stand on the precipice and look.”

I felt myself fall through his skull as I peered with my mind into his. Open fully to me, not a whisper of any shields or walls. A dark, dank place of menace and fear.

“Everyone has a center of their being; their thoughts and feelings and movements. Like a burning fire deep within.” I felt for it, for the center of his mind, past the oily malice. “Grasp it, gently now. Like a baby bird in your palm.”

The Attor snarled for just a moment before its mind went blank. I felt the encrusted hatred of decades. A creature bred in pain and molded to act as a weapon. A small sadness floated amidst my anger, at this beast created for nothing but misery and pain, not a speck of peace left in him.

In the palm of my magic I held him, everything in him: his next breath and the firing of his synapses contained, controlled by my magic.

And the last of his thoughts, desperate and lashing against his doom - filthy human, unworthy girl…

-How do I do it?

“Out loud, Feyre.”

My throat was sore, my lips dry and cracked as I swallowed. “Show me how.”

“How would you like to do it?” he asked.

I imagined a lemon bursting into mist in midair, a wry smile on Rhys’s face.

He chuckled, and my blood heated. “That’s my girl.”

He let go of my arms and I stood on sturdy legs.

“You hold everything in your hand, now,” he said. “Feel the flow of his blood, the air in his lungs, in and out. The twitch of a muscle, the pumping of his heart. Everything down the smallest parts of him, of us - liquid and viscous matter, cells and sinew. Focus on the blood. Can you feel it?”

His presence was gentle in my mind. As I felt through the Attor’s mind and body, Rhysand grabbed hold of those parts of my mind lighting up. Grasping new things. When I understood, he strengthened the thought, tending to my mind like a garden.

“Yes,” I answered him, feeling the pulse of the Attor’s heartbeat deep in my brain.

“Hold it. Good, just like that. Now picture all those tiny cells heating and bursting at once. Imagine the fires deep in the earth, forming and taking life. So hot it boils, so hot it -”

With a sickening pop, the Attor disappeared with half a scream, and everything turned silver.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Chapter Text

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Feyre

It took a moment for sounds and sights to come back. My eyes squinted against the bright light.

It was afternoon. Winter, the sun watery and pale drifting in through the windows of my family’s manor. An expanse of white marble glistened under drifts of snow, covered in puddles of silver blood and debris. Fine wallpaper was torn apart, and a fire was still roaring in the large hearth.

The breath of fae and mortals. Nesta. Elain. Cassian. Just outside the large hall, listening.

A long sigh in my ear. Rhysand.

I licked my lips and tasted the acrid tang of blood.

Finally, I turned to face him.

Wide eyes, parted lips, small splatters of silver blood in his immaculate hair. I couldn’t read his face.

Our minds still hummed together, circling one another, still held together by him as the pieces mended.

My breaths came quickly. Everything rushed back too fast. I looked at him and then - because of this bond between us that wouldn't let go - I was through his shield again, seeing myself through his eyes.

I was always like this - no groomed fae, elegant and delicate. Instead I looked like a wild, vicious thing, silver blood dripping down my skin, already drying. Hair frazzled and unkempt, eyes bloodshot and wild. No different from that feral mortal girl under the mountain.

But across the bond, I felt it: quick and all consuming.

Desire.

It made my knees quake, overwhelmed my fragile and frazzled mind. His eyes were dark, almost all back, a thin band of violet around black pupils blown wide. Somehow looking into his eyes made me feel more exposed than curled up in the wide expanse of his mind.

Rhys reached out a hand, slow, tentative. His broad thumb was cold as it wiped away hot blood from my cheek.

That single word echoed in my mind, between us.

Mate.

I felt it in my chest - warm and taut against the cold of my body - and pulled.

He was on me in a heartbeat, as if dragged. Wings unfurled, his forehead pressed against mine. His back was arched around me, a growl deep in his throat.

My heartbeat slowed beneath his hand that moved to my neck, my cheek. Both possessive and sweet. The Attor’s blood was still dripping, but I was nothing but the raw nerve of everything traveling between us - emotions that were hard to name, but…

His eyes flickered to my lips, the wanton hunger overwhelming me. He breathed in my scent deeply and leaned -

“Feyre, what -”

Nesta’s demanding voice rang out from across the room. I felt like a child caught misbehaving, a quick wince traveling across my face, but then strong arms were around me again. Like steel banded around my waist, the flap of leather wings, and a snarl.

Muffled shouts cried out from around the room, but I couldn’t hear, couldn’t think over the pounding thrum in my mind, our mind - protect, protect, protect.

Mate.

I peeked over the top of his wings, my breath slowing as I watched Cassian hook a finger in the back of Nesta’s dress and drag her out of the room, her scowl deepening.

“Your sister is safe with him.”

“Like hell -”

Rhys growled again, and I couldn’t stop myself from pressing further into his chest, to alleviate that panicked desire.

I tilted my head back to look at him. Beautiful, he was always so beautiful. And it occurred to me that every time I had been broken, beaten and afraid, he had come.

My…my mate.

Rhysand looked down at me as if he heard me, the feral snarl on his face softening, his pupils still blown wide.

“Rhys?,” I whispered. It was like I was seeing him for the first time, even if he had always been there. There but just beyond what I would allow myself to believe, to hope for.

In a flash, against the too-late cry of Nesta, we disappeared into the ether as Rhys winnowed us away.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

If there was one thing I knew intimately, it was hunger.

Rotting away in our cottage, there was little to do but feel it. The gnawing, wrenching sensation had been the singular focus for so much of my young life.

I knew it well - the way it could drive you to insanity; the slow, endless emptiness that built to roaring desperation with no reprieve. The yawning pit of fear when it made my hands shake in the forest, or when I closed my eyes at night wondering if I would slip away before morning came.

Hunger was all-consuming, inescapable. As much as my father and sisters and I would try to distract ourselves, to chug water or play cards or fight just to have something to do, nothing ever took the edge off of that sharp, burning knife of want inside.

It was the only feeling I had to compare to what came across the bond from Rhysand right now.

We hadn’t winnowed far - from the corner of my eye I could tell we were in one of the well-appointed bedrooms in my family’s manor.

But I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, couldn’t shake that feeling of need.

For me.

My mate.

It was…

Overwhelming.

Still in his arms, thoughts and feelings still flowed freely between us. Our breaths mingled and I got lost in the openness of his face, desire and shock raging a war across his features. I wondered if mine looked the same. A little frightening, very fae, and everything my mother had warned me about across the wall.

Like a faucet trickling closed, I felt the barrage of his emotions slow, felt myself come into my body. A fire crackled in the corner. The wood floor creaked beneath our feet. My mind felt…empty.

The absence of him was immediate, like a banking fire. The space between my ribs empty. I was still all formless thoughts and floating emotions, puzzle pieces trying to fit back into place.

Rhysand lifted his hands off of me, and took one, then two steps back. He pinched the bridge of his nose as if in pain.

“I’m sorry, Feyre.”

Sorry for what?

“I lost control. I’ve worked very hard not to. But the bond…is a powerful thing.”

Indeed. The echo of his desire still thrummed in my veins as if it were my own. I missed the comfort of being held together in his arms, with his mind. Missed it so much a gnawing panic started in my chest, my heartbeat building.

“What - what does it mean?”

Mates.

There was a time, not long ago, when Rhysand had been my enemy. When I had feared the way he could seize my thoughts, my blood, my very breath. Now, I missed him in my mind. It was hard to trust both - when everything I thought I knew was constantly being thrown into chaos.

“It - it doesn’t have to mean anything, Feyre.”

I could sense him then, his heart beating like the tight pull of a violin string, the falsity on his tongue.

A laugh escaped me, a little manic. I remembered my once human naivete: faeries can’t lie.

Maybe I did know Rhysand a little better than I thought.

Perhaps it was cruel, but I felt for that golden thread inside. It was now unmistakable. I wondered how I had ever overlooked it.

Just as he taught me, I thought of my magic as myself, as deft fingers ran along its glowing tendrils, reaching for him. Just like using my magic, I found that cord, that bond between us, and pulled. Against the cold shivering adrenaline drop coursing through me, I reached for it - something warm, golden and shimmering inside.

I watched as Rhys’s nostrils flared, as his eyes sparked into something dangerous. His body stiff, as if holding himself back.

Anything, indeed.

Outside the heavy doors I heard the far off sounds of Nesta’s yelling, of doors slamming. I wondered how well Cassian would take to diplomacy with my sister on a tear. I wanted to calm her, to keep them both from tearing at each other’s throats, but the thought of stepping outside the door made my legs shake.

“You’ve had a long day, Feyre. You should bathe, rest. And if your sister doesn’t kill me on sight, I can be back with some tea and supper for you.”

Leaving - he was leaving.

Suddenly I felt as if my magic was rearing inside me again. My skin was cold, my mind blank, and a chill climbed up my spine ending with my chattering teeth.

He was leaving and the Attor - Hybern - I had -

“Oh, darling.”

Rhys crushed me against his black tunic and I snaked my arms under his jacket, clinging to his warmth.

I had never had anyone I could rely on, could trust. The burdens of survival were always mine to bear.

Perhaps it was selfish to take advantage of him, of the bond like this. But in the still quiet of the room I felt how close I had come to losing it all, to falling to pieces and scattering apart on the marble floor.

Our heartbeats mingled together, chest to chest, and I let the fresh and fragile walls of my shield down again in invitation.

He was there - right there, slipping into my mind like soft shadows, hauling up a shield around both of us.

Protecting me.

-Are we safe?

In my mind we twined together as close as our bodies, his warm, broad hand running up and down my back.

-I’ll make sure of it. The wards around this place will be second only to Velaris. Don’t worry, Feyre.

Velaris.

-You left Velaris…Cassian, and Az and Mor…should we go back?

My mind was racing, the cold shaking of my bones rattling my thoughts.

-Perhaps we should lie down.

I retreated a little into that soothing, dark place in my mind as he lifted me onto the soft mattress.

With my limbs this heavy I did nothing but watch as he looked me over, as a prickle of magic cleaned the silver blood off my skin and clothes. But I could still smell it in my nose, didn’t know if I would ever get it fully off my skin.

The blankets warmed quickly as he tucked me under them, and when my shaking hands reached for him, he climbed into bed beside me. I shivered into him as my fingers clung to the fabric of his shirt.

The room was quiet, an odd contrast to my shattered and buzzing mind. I listened to Rhys breathing, pressed my ear against the steady beat of his heart. I wanted that open channel between us again, to feel cradled and held in his mind.

-When did you know? I whispered into his mind.

I felt his panic, then the deep sigh from his chest.

Then I was seeing through his mind, through his memories…

It was crystal clear, familiar, only turned around - seeing from his eyes. On the balcony on the mountain, after Amarantha was gone. My face pale and sad in the sun on the mountainside. A heart-rending snap when everything aligned itself to the light in my eyes. Something bittersweet and beautiful and very deeply buried suddenly roaring to life in my - his - chest. Burning and all-consuming.

Time seemed to slow. I saw the wet shimmer of the tears in my eyes, the morning sun reflecting off of them - and oh, that feeling…

Like a door closing, I was back in the bed, breathing in his scent.

It had been a lovely moment, sad but pure. But it was so many months ago. And all that time, for so long, he had left me alone.

-I’m sorry.

-For what?

What wasn’t I sorry for? For being a liability - an unpredictable mess, a magical anomaly winnowing across the continent to stir the pot in a conflict ready to boil over.

For taking and taking from him, for wanting things I probably shouldn’t ask for.

-For the bond. It seems like - like you don’t have much of a choice.

Rhys moved back, the solid weight of his collarbone that I’d been leaning on pulled away. His calloused hand was on my cheek, pulling my head upwards, my gaze towards him.

The little girl inside wanted to run, to look away.

-You’re afraid I don’t want the bond?

-Aren’t you?

He pressed his lips together, a look of displeasure.

I couldn’t believe I had any more tears to give, until I felt them running down my cheeks.

The pad of his thumb brushed over my skin, wiping them away as they fell.

Violet eyes stared into mine, gentle. Our faces so close together - he was so beautiful. Even after our weeks together, I still had to catch my breath at the sight of him, at the otherworldly beauty of his face.

-In the human lands they’d call me a bad match. His eyebrows screwed together. -Third daughter, illiterate, no fortune, no manners. My mother used to say she’d give me to the stable boy’s son so I could run free with the beasts.

-Your mother and I would have words, talking about my mate like that.

I sniffled, some echo of myself hating the tears, my vulnerability.

-But - you could have anyone. Someone royal, someone powerful. Someone who understands your world and -

-I want you, Feyre. Only you.

-Then why did you keep it a secret, all this time?

I felt his body still, his breath stutter.

-I - I wanted you to choose. I wanted you to be free to live your life. Not shackled to me.

-The way you’re shackled to me?

-It’s not like that.

-Why not?

His voice, deep and loud in the quiet room, made me jump. “I don’t care about the Cauldron or any of it, Feyre. I knew what I wanted before the bond snapped into place.”

And staring into his eyes - it all slid into place. How could he be anything other than my safety, my home, my mate, when I was laying here held in his arms?

I leaned forward and kissed him.

Around us the candles flickered out, until the room was dark and shimmering, as if he had lost control of the hold on his own glamour.

His enthusiasm couldn’t be hidden. Soon I was lightheaded and his body was pressing me further into the mattress. It was how I wanted to be - covered by him, safe with him. To not worry for a moment about the dangers -

“Feyre!”

Nesta’s loud voice made it through the heavy door, her fist pounding.

Rhys ducked his head into my shoulder as I stiffened, and I thought for a worried moment he was angry.

When he lifted his head, his face was filled with such laughter that I couldn’t help but laugh in his face.

“Are you alright in there?”

I needed to stop laughing but I couldn’t, not at her scolding tone as I laid under the High Lord of the Night Court. I pulled the blankets up over us to stifle the sound.

Rhys’s shoulders were shaking against me.

I pulled the blanket down a moment to yell “Nesta, I’m fine! We’ll talk in the morning!”

It took a moment for her pounding footsteps to retreat down the hall. I felt a tinge of guilt - I had worried them so much, dragged them into this, and I knew a reckoning with my sisters was coming.

But right now all I could think about was the male on top of me.

As we smiled at each other, his slowly faded into something…reverent.

“What?” I asked.

“I’ve never seen you like this.”

When was the last time I had smiled - truly happy? I had been given such trials by the world, it was hard to trust that anything from it could be a gift.

But he was here, Rhys was here, and he had come for me again. He was warm and beautiful and alive, and I was too.

He was here, and he wanted me. Not just as a weapon, or a cog in his schemes. But me.

I wanted him too.

My hands on his shoulders, I pulled him slowly towards me - giving him a chance to pull back.

He didn’t.

Rhysand kissed me like he was starving.

What I hadn’t seen before was now crystal clear.

A bed under his roof, the meals shared together. The quiet and peace of the mountains, the thrum of life in Velaris. Tell me how to help you. Plates of food and books appearing at my doorstep and little lessons and gifts given so freely -

I whimpered into his mouth. And I almost cried when he pulled back from me.

“Feyre -”

My hands were shaking, but not from the cold as I pawed at the fabric of his jacket.

“Are you certain?”

I looked at him then - his eyes screwed up tightly, hiding from my answer as much as I had wanted to hide from him.

I let myself sink back into his mind, let that night sky wash over my mind, open and free.

And I sent that peace, that open feeling into the sky, to him.

There was no doubt anymore.

When my chilled fingers had finally peeled back that layer of his clothes - hands shaking, our bodies twisting - he shivered as his bare chest fell under my hands.

Violet eyes watched as I traced the whorling black symbols across his skin.

And I did what I had wanted to do all those weeks ago when he woke from his nightmare - I wrapped my arms around his neck. Held our bodies together, as if that would help our minds join even more, pressed temple to temple

We laid like that for a long time - skin to skin. Our minds together in some place of swirling light and dark - everything in him holding its breath, watching.

I remembered when I had feared those sharp talons digging into my mind. Now I only wanted more - to stay like this, surrounded by him, filled with his scent, the feel of his warm skin, the flickering dark amusement of his mind curled around mine.

Distantly I felt my body warm, the cold shivering replaced by a warm, loose feeling with exhaustion pulling at the corners.

-Feyre - perhaps we should sleep -

But as I shifted my body I felt the hard length of him brush against my inner thigh, and all the gentle attention of him awakened at once.

-Rhys.

Want flowed back and forth between the bond, coiling impossibly tighter, even as we were pressed together so close. Hunger roaring, but fed by ravenous kisses, by the moans he made into my mouth, by the way his weight pressed me against the mattress.

He pulled back and I knew he was vulnerable, too - his neck exposed to me, the pulse thrumming against his skin. I could scent his sweat, his arousal.

Darting up, I licked one long stripe up his throat. Tasted the salty sweat of him, bursting on my tongue and through my body with a shiver of pleasure.

Rhys groaned, a vulnerable, needy sound.

One that set my body on fire.

It caught and burned - his desire feeding into mine, awakening something ravenous from the soft, tired place of rest he had coaxed me to.

All this time, fighting with him, trying to second guess his intentions, and now he was wholly vulnerable under my hands. Rhysand, who was always so smug, so smooth, so mysterious -

And now the jump of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, The sharp intake of breath as I grazed my teeth along his soft skin.

I laughed. “Who would have thought the High Lord of the Night Court -”

But I couldn’t finish my sentence as he moved, pulling me to the edge of the bed, my legs parted and thrown over his shoulders.

“Is this enough supplication for you, mate?”

Something about the word in his mouth made me shiver - not whispered into our minds but the way it left his tongue - heavy and breathless. Like he had been waiting a lifetime to say it out loud.

I was exposed in a new way, as his hot breath danced over the center of me, a hand pressed against my stomach holding me still.

“Be glad the bond hadn’t snapped into place for you yet, Feyre,” he said, “Or else you would have spent the past several months dreaming of nothing but this.”

With a flat, broad tongue, he licked a slow stripe up my center.

Both of us groaned and he pulled back, burying his head into the flesh of my thigh.

“Feyre.”

He had gone so still I wasn’t sure if he was breathing.

I was foolish, without a doubt. I felt the precipice we stood on, unsure entirely if this bond would serve me or take over all my good sense.

But Rhysand had a desperate, dark look in his eyes - waiting for permission. And together we were a hurricane, a vicious storm, and I knew no matter what I couldn’t resist - we would always be pulled into each other’s orbit.

There you are. I’ve been looking for you.

I grabbed a fistful of his disheveled hair in my hands and pulled him closer to my body.

“Yes.”

Rhys wasted no time in devouring me.

And when he had licked and kissed and sucked until I screamed, sending me over the edge not once but twice, he finally fell back into bed beside me.

I panted, legs shaking, working hard to come back into my body for the second time today.

I took the kisses he fed me, tasting of both of us at the same time. Tasted the smile that bloomed on his face.

He pulled back to look at me, stars sparkling in his eyes.

“I’ve never seen anything like you, Feyre.”

Although my arms were jelly, I reached for him. My body, my mind remembered our closeness and I felt cold with him so far away.

He chuckled as I chased his lips, banding arms around his neck.

-I think you’d get quite sick of me if you had me in your head all the time, darling.

-Possibly. But if you cross me, at least you know now I can mist my enemies.

Rhys laughed as he hauled himself over me. Still in my mind, a gentle presence. Curious and watching each burst of anticipation, of pleasure in me as he settled between my thighs.

The world was a blended, refracted collage as he watched me, as the broad head of him opened me.

Both our eyes watching one another, the room a spinning dome, everything narrowing in our joined minds as he pushed in, and in, the feeling of both filling and being filled blending together.

Mate.

-Rhys

-Feyre

The words echoed in our minds in both voices, merging together.

He moved in me as I pulled him closer. Lips and teeth and hot breath on skin and the pull of muscle.

And that hunger - that desire - instead of being sated it built and built, expanding between us, as if it might consume everything that we were.

I felt it then - all the fear and desire to hide fading away - two bright stars at the beginning of everything, circling in each other’s gravity until we smashed together, an impossible heat fusing light and stardust into one.

In my mind, open and free to him, he chased my pleasure - and I chased his too, holding and falling together, feeling utterly whole, my splintered mind filling with him and growing gold at the cracks.

I felt him reaching his peak, both of us moving together, and I didn’t know what would happen when we crested that edge, together -

Through the bond, no words, just that feeling of love. Of home.

I remembered the feeling of his arms banded around me in the cold and dark.

“Come with me.”

It was a plea, his desperate begging on my lips, so new and so delectable.

I gasped his name one last time as I broke around him, pulling him into me, body and mind. Felt his hips stutter as he groaned and fell over the edge, as the waves of it washed over the joined surface of our minds.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

I didn’t know how long we lay there - just breathing in each other’s arms.

No sounds were in the manor, and I wanted to believe there was no one left but us, two quiet stars burning in the cold sky.

There would be so much to face tomorrow. Hybern, my sisters, the return to Velaris where two bedrooms awaited us. But exhaustion was pulling at my tired body.

“What happens next?”

He stroked my hair, pulling my body closer. I knew it was cold outside but the impossible warmth of his body under the heavy blankets was lulling my mind quiet.

“Sleep, Feyre. There’s no need to think of those things. We have a lifetime to figure them out.”

A lifetime. With Velaris waiting. Each day a task, a goal, a path to walk upon.

Rhys pulled my head against his chest and I sighed as I heard the thrumming beat of his heart.

And I thought - just maybe - the sound would be enough to keep the nightmares at bay once again.