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Sarah J. Maas

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“Built into the box were compartments and sleeves and holders, all full of brushes and paints and charcoal and sheets of paper. A travelling painting kit. Red- the red paint inside the glass vial was so bright, the blue as stunning as the eyes of that faerie woman I'd slaughtered- 'I thought you might want it to take around the grounds with you, rather than lug all those bags like you always do.' The brushes were fresh, gleaming- the bristles soft and clean. Looking at the box, at what was inside, felt like examining a crow-picked corpse. I tried to smile. Tried to will some brightness to my eyes. He said. 'You don't like it.' 'No,' I managed to say. 'No- it's wonderful.' And it was. It really was. I thought if you started painting again...' I waited for him to finish. He didn't. My face heated.”

“I avoided his stare, turning for the kitchen. 'You must be hungry, I'll heat something up.' Rhys straightened. 'You'd- make me food?' 'Heat,' I said. 'I can't cook.' It didn't seem to make a difference. But whatever it was, the act of offering him food... I dumped some cold soup into a pan and lit the burner. 'I don't know the rules,' I said, my back to him. 'So you need to explain them to me.' He lingered in the centre of the cabin, watching my every move. He said hoarsely. 'It's an... important moment when a female offers her mate food. It goes back to whatever beasts we were a long, long time ago. But it still matters. The first time matters. Some mated pairs will make an occasion of it- throwing a party just so the female can formally offer her mate food... That's usually done amongst the wealthy. But it means that the female... accepts the bond.' I stared into the soup. 'Tell me the story- tell me everything.' He understood my offer: tell me while I cooked, and I'd decide at the end whether or not to offer him that food.”

“Rhysand dropped onto the couch beside me at least, loosing a breath. His eyes slid to me. 'If you want to go, then you go, Feyre.' If I hadn't been already in love with him, I might have loved him for that- for not insisting I stay, even if it drove his instincts mad, for not locking me away in the aftermath of what had happened yesterday. And I realised- I realised how badly I'd been treated before, if my standards had become so low. If the freedom I'd been granted felt like a privilege and not an inherent right. Rhys's eyes darkened, and I knew he read what I thought, felt. 'You might be my mate,' he said, 'but you remain your own person. You decide your fate- your choices. Not me. You chose yesterday. You choose every day. Forever.' And maybe he only understood because he, too, had been helpless and without choices, had been forced to do such horrible things, and locked up. I threaded my fingers through his and squeezed. Together- together we'd find our peace, our future. Together we'd fight for it.”

“I was about to beg Rhys to fly me home when I caught the strands of music pouring from a group of performers outside a restaurant. My hands slackened at my sides. A reduced version of the symphony I'd heard in a chill dungeon, when I had been so lost in terror and despair that I'd hallucinated- hallucinated as this music poured into my cell- and kept me from shattering. And once more, the beauty of it hit me, the layering and swaying, the joy and peace. They had never played a piece like it Under the Mountain- never this sort of music. And I'd never heard music in my cell save for that one time. 'You,' I breathed, not taking my eyes from the musicians playing so skilfully that even the diners had set down their forks in the cafe nearby. 'You sent that music into my cell. Why?' Rhysand's voice was hoarse. 'Because you were breaking. And I couldn't find another way to save you.' The music swelled and built. I'd seen a palace in the sky when I'd hallucinated- a place between sunset and dawn... a house of moonstone pillars. 'I saw the Night Court.' He glanced sidelong at me. 'I didn't send those images to you.' I didn't care. 'Thank you. For everything- for what you did. Then... and now.' 'Even after the Weaver? After this morning with my trap for the Attor?' My nostrils flared. 'You ruin everything.' Rhys grinned, and I didn't notice if people were staring as he slid an arm under my legs, and shot us both into the sky. I could learn to love it. I realised. The flying.”

“His face paled, and he stroked a hand down the mare's cobweb-coloured mane. 'I was forced to watch as my father butchered the female I loved. My brothers forced me to watch.' My heart tightened for him- for the pain that haunted him. 'There was no magic spell, no miracle to bring her back. There were no gathered High Lords to resurrect her. I watched, and she died, and I will never forget that moment when I heard her heart stop beating.' My eyes burned. 'Tamlin got what I didn't,' Lucien said softly, his breathing ragged. 'We all heard your neck break. But you got to come back. And I doubt that he will ever forget that sound, either. And he will do everything in his power to protect you from that danger again, even if it means keeping secrets, even if it means sticking to rules you don't like. In this, he will not bend. So don't ask him to- not yet.' I had no words in my head, my heart. Giving Tamlin time, letting him adjust... It was the least I could do.”

“My mouth went paper-dry as Alis fluffed out the sparkling train of my gown in the shadow of the garden doors. Silk and gossamer rustled and sighed, and I gripped the pale bouquet in my gloved hands, nearly snapping the stems. Elbow-length silk gloves- to hide the marking. Ianthe had delivered them herself this morning in a velvet-lined box. 'Don't be nervous,' Alis chuckled, her tree-bark skin rich and flushed in the honey gold evening light. 'I'm not,' I rasped. 'You're fidgeting like my youngest nephew during a haircut.' She finished fussing over my dress, shooing away some servants who'd come to spy on me before the ceremony. I pretended I didn't see them or the glittering, sunset-gilded crowd seated in the courtyard ahead, and toyed with some invisible fleck on my skirts. 'You look beautiful,' Alis said quietly. I was fairly certain her thoughts on the dress were the same as my own, but I believed her. 'Thank you.' 'And you sound like you're going to your funeral.' I plastered a grin on my face. Alis rolled her eyes. But she nudged me toward the doors as they opened on some immortal wind, lilting music streaming in. 'It's be over faster than you can blink,' she promised, and gently nudged me into the last of the sunlight.”

“What now?' Wordlessly, he took the soap from my hands and turned me, rubbing down my back, scrubbing lightly with the cloth. 'It's up to you,' Rhys said. 'We can go back to Velaris and have the bond verified by a priestess- no one like Ianthe, I promise- and be declared officially Mated. We could have a small party to celebrate- dinner with our... cohorts. Unless you'd rather have a large party, though I think you and I are in agreement about our aversion for them.' His strong hands kneaded muscles that were tight and aching in my back, and I groaned. 'We could also go before a priestess and be declared husband and wife as well as mates, if you want a more human thing to call me.' 'What will you call me?' 'Mate,' he said. 'Though also calling you my wife sounds mighty appealing, too.' His thumbs massaged the column of my spine. 'Of if you want to wait, we can do none of those things. We're mated, whether it's shouted across the world or not. There's no rush to decide.' I turned, 'I was asking about Jurian, the king, the queens, and the Cauldron, but I'm glad to know I have so many options where our relationship stands. And that you'll do whatever I want. I must have you wrapped completely around my finger.' His eyes danced with feline amusement. 'Cruel, beautiful thing.' I snorted. The idea that he found me beautiful at all- 'You are,' he said. 'You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I thought that from the first moment I saw you on Calanmai.'' And it was stupid, stupid for beauty to mean anything at all, but... My eyes burned. 'Which is good,' he added, 'because you thought I was the most beautiful make you'd ever seen. So it makes us even.”

“I twisted, studying his face. There was nothing warm in his eyes, nothing of the friend I'd made. I opened my shield enough to let him in. What? His voice floated into my mind. I reached down the bond between us, caressing the wall of ebony adamant. A small sliver cracked- just for me. And I said into it, You are good, Rhys. You are kind. This mask does not scare me. I see you beneath it. His hands tightened on me, and his eyes held mine as he leaned forward to brush his mouth against my cheek. It was answer enough- and... an unleashing.”

“The wave vanished. Sunlight. A crunch of boots before me, the heat and whisper of mighty wings. A hand on my face, tilting up my chin as I stared and stared at the splattered ruin of the Attor. Violet eyes met mine. Rhys. Rhys was here. And... and I had... He leaned forward, his brow sweat-coated, his breathing uneven. He gently pressed a kiss to my mouth. To remind us both. Who we were, what we were. My icy heart thawed, the fire in my gut was soothed by a tendril of dark, and the water trickled out of my veins and back into the Sidra. Rhys pulled back, his thumb stroking my cheek. People were weeping. Keening. But no more screams of terror. No more bloodshed and destruction. My mate murmured, 'Feyre Cursebreaker, the Defender of the Rainbow.' I slid my arms around his waist and sobbed. And even as his city wailed, the High Lord of the Night Court held me until I could at last face this blood-drenched new world.”

“You are- you're everything to me,' he said thickly. 'I need... I need you to be all right. To know they can't get to you- can't hurt you anymore.' 'I know.' Those fingers drifted lower. I swallowed hard and said again, 'I know.' I brushed his hair back from his face. 'But what about you? Who gets to keep you safe?' His mouth tightened. With his powers returned, he didn't need anyone to protect him, shield him. I could almost see invisible hackles raising- not at me, but at the thought of what he'd been mere months ago: prone to Amarantha's whims, his power barely a trickle compared to the cascade now coursing through him. He took a steadying breath, and leaned to kiss my heart, right between my breasts. It was answer enough. 'Soon,' he murmured, and those fingers travelled back to my waist. I almost groaned. 'Soon you'll be my wife, and it'll be fine. We'll leave all this behind us.”

“Rhys didn't dare break from his mask, but the light kiss he pressed beneath my ear told me enough. Apology and gratitude- and more apologies. He didn't like this any more than I did. And yet to get what we needed, to buy Azriel time... He'd do it. And so would I. I wondered then, with his hands beneath my breasts and between my legs, what Rhys wouldn't give of himself. Wondered if... if perhaps the arrogance and swagger... if they masked a male who perhaps thought he wasn't worth very much at all.”

“Rhys said softly from behind me, 'I would be happy beyond reason, though, if you one day did honour me with children. To share that with you.' I turned back to him. 'I want to live first,' I said. 'With you. I want to see things and have adventures. I want to learn what it is to be immortal, to be your mate, to be part of your family. I want to be... ready for them. And I selfishly want to have you all to myself for a while.' His smile was gentle, sweet. 'You take all the time you need. And if I get you all to myself for the rest of eternity, then I won't mind that at all.”

“If I am a High Lord's mate, I'm expected to bear you offspring, aren't I? So perhaps I shouldn't.' 'You are not expected to bear me anything,' he snarled. 'Children are rare, yes. So rare, and so precious. But I don't want you to have them unless you want to- unless we both want to. And right now, with this war coming, with Hybern... I'll admit that I'm terrified at the thought of my mate being pregnant with so many enemies around us. I'm terrified of what I might do if you're pregnant and threatened. Or harmed.”

“Mercifully, Rhys was half-awake, the layers I'd thrown on him now scattered across the blanket, and he gave me a strained smile as I entered. I chucked the weed at him, showering his bare chest with soil. 'Chew on that.' He blinked blearily at me. Mate. But he obeyed, frowning at the plant before he plucked off a few leaves and started chewing. He grimaced as he swallowed. I tore off my jacket, shoved up my sleeve, and strode to him. He'd known, and kept it from me. Had the others known? Had they guessed? He'd- he'd promised not to lie, not to keep things from me. And this- the most important thing in my immortal existence... I drew a dagger across my forearm, the cut long and deep, and dropped to my knees before him. I didn't feel the pain. 'Drink this. Now.' Rhys blinked again, brows raising, but I didn't give him the chance to object before I gripped the back of his head, lifted my arm to his mouth, and shoved him against my skin. He paused as my blood touched his lips. Then his mouth opened wider, his tongue brushing my arm as he sucked in my blood. One mouthful. Two. Three. I yanked back my arm, the wound already healing, and shoved down my sleeve.”

“I'd taken to situating myself in one of the little lounges overlooking the mountains, and had almost read an entire book in the deep-cushioned armchair, going slowly as I learned new words. But it had filled my time- given me quiet, steadfast company with those characters, who did not exist and never would, but somehow made me feel less... alone.”

“Tamlin won't allow it.' 'Tamlin isn't your keeper, and you know it.' 'I'm his subject, and he is my High Lord...' 'You are no one's subject.' I went rigid at the flash of teeth, the smoke-like wings that flared out. 'I will say this once- and only once,' Rhysand purred, stalking to the map on the wall. 'You can be a pawn, be someone's reward, and spend the rest of your immortal life bowing and scraping and pretending you're less than him, than Ianthe, than any of us. If you want to pick that road, then fine. A shame, but it's your choice.' The shadow of wings rippled again. 'But I know you- more than you realise, I think- and I don't believe for one damn minute that you're remotely fine with being a pretty trophy for someone who sat on his ass for nearly fifty years, then set on his ass while you were shredded apart-' 'Stop it-' 'Or,' he plowed ahead, 'you've got another choice. You can master whatever powers we gave you, and make it count. You can play a role in this war. Because war is coming one way or another.' ... 'Think it over. Take the week. Ask Tamlin, if it'll make you sleep better. See what charming Ianthe says about it. But it's your choice to make- no one else's.”

“We can use your room if you like, but...' He was leaning against his open bedroom door. 'Either your room or mine- but we're sharing one from now on. Just tell me whether I should move myh clothes or yours. If that's all right with you.' 'Don't you- you don't want your own space?' 'No,' he said baldly. 'Unless you do. I need you protecting me from our enemies with your water wolves.' I snorted. He'd made me tell him that part of my tale over and over. I jerked my chin toward his bedroom. 'Your bed is bigger.' And that was that. I walked in to find my clothes already there, a second armoire now beside his. I stared at all the open space around us.”

“You needed not to be alone. But what about him? Fifty years he'd been separated from his friends, his family... I said, 'You let Amarantha and the entire world think you rule and delight in a Court of Nightmares. It's all a front- to keep what matters most safe.' The city lights gilded his face. 'I love my people, and my family. Do not think I wouldn't become a monster to keep them protected.' 'You already did that Under the Mountain.' The words were out before I could stop them. The wind rustled his hair. 'And I suspect I'll have to do it again soon enough.' 'What was the cost?' I dared ask. 'Of keeping this place secret and free?' He shot straight down, wings beating to keep us smooth as we landed on the roof of the town house. I made to step away, but he gripped my chin. 'You know the cost already.' Amarantha's whore.”

“When she tricked me out of my powers and left the scraps, it was still more than the others. And I decided to use it to tap into the minds of every Night Court citizen she'd captured, and anyone who might know the truth. I made a web between all of them, actively controlling their minds every second of every day, every decade, to forget about Velaris, to forget about Mor, and Amren, and Cassian, and Azriel. Amarantha wanted to know who was close to me- who to kill and torture. But my true court was here, ruling this city and the others. And I used the remainder of my powers to shield them all from sight and sound. I had only enough for one city, one place. I chose the one that had been hidden from history already. I chose, and now must live with the consequences of knowing there were more left outside who suffered. But for those here.... anyone flying or travelling near Velaris would see nothing but barren rock, and if they tried to walk through it, they'd find themselves suddenly deciding otherwise. Sea travel and merchant trading were halted- sailors became farmers, working the earth around Velaris instead. And because my powers were focused on shielding them all, Feyre, I had very little to use against Amarantha. So I decided that to keep her from asking questions about the people who mattered, I would be her whore.' He'd done all of that, had done such horrible things... done everything for his people, his friends. And the only piece of himself that he'd hidden and managed to keep her from tainting, destroying, even if it meant fifty years trapped in a cage of rock....'' Those wings now flared wide. How many knew about those wings outside of Velaris or the Illyrian war-camps? Or had he wiped all memory of them from Prythian long before Amarantha? Rhys released my chin. But as he lowered his hand, i gripped his wrist, feeling the solid strength. 'It's a shame,' I said, the words nearly gobbled up by the sound of the city music. 'That others in Prythian don't know. A shame that you let them think the worst.' He took a step back, his wings beating the air like mighty drums. 'As long as the people who matter most know the truth, I don't care about the rest. Get some sleep.' Then he shot into the sky, and was swallowed by the darkness between the stars.”

“I took a step toward Tamlin. 'What have you done?' The King of Hybern said from his throne, 'We made a bargain. I give you over, and he agrees to let my forces enter Prythian through his territory. And then use it as a base as we remove that ridiculous wall.' I shook my head. Lucien refused to meet the pleading stare I threw his way. 'You're insane,' Cassian hissed. Tamlin held out a hand. 'Feyre.' And order- like I was no better than a summoned dog. I made no movement. I had to get free, had to get that damn power free. 'You,' the king said, pointing a thick finger at me, 'are a very difficult female to get ahold of. Of course, we've also agreed that you'll work for me once you've been returned home to your husband, but... Is it husband-to-be, or husband? I can't remember.' Lucien glanced between us all, face paling. 'Tamlin,' he murmured. But Tamlin didn't lower the hand stretched toward me. 'I'm taking you home.' I backed up a step- toward where Rhysand still held Azriel with Cassian.”

“My knuckles brushed one of his wings- smooth and cool like silk, but hard as stone with it stretched taut. Fascinating, I blindly reached again... and dared to run a fingertip along some inner edge. Rhysand shuddered, a soft groan slipping past my ear. 'That,' he said tightly, 'is very sensitive.' I snatched my finger back, pulling away far enough to see his face. With the wind, I had to squint, and my braided hair ripped this way and that, but- he was entirely focused on the mountains around us. 'Does it tickle?' He flicked his gaze to me, then to the snow and pine that went on forever. 'It feels like this,' he said, and leaned in so close that his lips brushed the shell of my ear as he sent a gentle breath into it. My back arched on instinct, my chin tipping up at the caress of that breath. 'Oh,' I managed to say, I felt him smile against my ear and pull away. 'If you want an Illyrian male's attention, you'd be better off grabbing him by the balls. We're trained to protect our wings at all costs. Some males attack first, ask questions later, if their wings are touched without invitation.' 'And during sex?' The question blurted out. Rhys's face was nothing but feline amusement as he monitored the mountains. 'During sex, an Illyrian male can find completion just by having someone touch his wings in the right spot.' My blood thrummed. Dangerous territory; more lethal than the drop below. 'Have you found that to be true?' His eyes stripped me bare. 'I've never allowed anyone to see or touch my wings during sex. It makes you vulnerable in a way that I'm not... comfortable with.' 'Too bad,' I said, staring out too casually toward the mighty mountain that now appeared on the horizon, towering over the others. And capped, I noted, with that glimmering palace of moonstone. 'Why?' he asked warily. I shrugged, fighting the upward tugging of my lips. 'Because I bet you could get into some interesting positions with those wings.' Rhys loosed a barking laugh, and his nose grazed my ear. I felt him open his mouth to whisper something, but- Something dark and fast and sleek shot for us, and he plunged down and away, swearing.”

“Cassian tried to convince me last night not to take you. I thought he might even punch me.' 'Why?' I barely knew him. 'Who knows? With Cassian, he's probably more interested in fucking you than protecting you.' 'You're a pig.' 'You could, you know,' Rhys said, holding up the branch of a scrawny beech for me to slip under. 'If you needed to move on in a physical sense, I'm sure Cassian would be more than happy to oblige.' It felt like a test in itself. And it pissed me off enough that I crooned, 'Then tell him to come to my room tonight.' 'If you survive this test.' I paused atop a little lichen-crusted rock. 'You seem pleased by the idea that I won't.' 'Quite the opposite, Feyre.' He prowled to where I stood on the stone. I was almost eye level with him. The forest went even quieter- the trees seeming to lean closer, as if to catch every word. 'I'll let Cassian know you're... open to his advances.' 'Good,' I said.”

“No one warming your bed right now, Cassian? It must be so hard to be an Illyrian and have no thoughts in your head save for those about your favourite part.' 'You know I'm always happy to tangle in the sheets with you, Amren,' Cassian said, utterly unfazed by the silver eyes, the power radiating from her every pore. 'I know how much you enjoy Illyrian-”

“I knew he and Tamlin were different. Knew that Rhysand's protective anger tonight had been justified, that I would have had a similar reaction. I'd been bloodthirsty at the barest details of Mor's suffering, had wanted to punish them for it. I had known the risks. I had known I'd be sitting in his lap, touching him, using him. I'd been using him for a while now. And maybe I should tell him I didn't... I didn't want or expect anything from him. Maybe Rhysand needed to flirt with me, taunt me, as much for a distraction and sense of normalcy as I did. And maybe I'd said what I had to him because... because I'd realised that I might very well be the person who wouldn't let anyone in. And tonight, when he'd recoiled after he'd seen how he affected me... It had crumpled something in my chest. I had been jealous- of Cresseida. I had been so profoundly unhappy on that barge because I'd wanted to be the one he smiled at like that. And I knew it was wrong, but... I did not think Rhys would call me a whore if I wanted it- wanted... him. No matter how soon it was after Tamlin. Neither would his friends. Not when they had been called the same and worse. And learned to live- and love- beyond it. Despite it. So maybe it was time to tell Rhys that. To explain that I didn't want to pretend. I didn't want to write it off as a joke, or a plan, or a distraction. And it'd be hard, and I was scared and might be difficult to deal with, but... I was willing to try- with him. To try to... be something. Together. Whether it was purely sex, or more, or something between or beyond them, I didn't know. We'd find out. I was healed- or healing- enough to want to try. If he was willing to try, too. If he didn't walk away when I voiced what I wanted: him. Not the High Lord, not the most powerful male in Prythian's history. Just him. The person who had sent music into that cell; who had picked up that knife in Amarantha's throne room to fight for me when no one else dared, and who had kept fighting for me every day since, refusing to let me crumble and disappear into nothing. So I waited for him in the chilled, moonlit garden. But he didn't come.”

“Do you- do you want to dance with me?' I whispered. He was silent for so long that I lifted my head to scan his face. But his eyes were bright- silver-lined. 'You want to dance?' he rasped, his fingers curling around mine. I pointed with my chin toward the celebration below. 'Down there- with them.' Where the music beckoned, where life beckoned. Where he should spend the night with his friends, and where I wanted to spend it with them, too. Even with the strangers in attendance. I did not mind stepping out of the shadows, did not mind even being in the shadows to begin with, so long as he was with me. My friend through so many dangers- who had fought for me when no one else would, even myself. 'Of course I'll dance with you,' Rhys said, his voice still raw. 'All night, if you wish.' 'Even if I step on your toes?' 'Even then.' He leaned in, brushing his mouth against my heated cheek. I closed my eyes at the whisper of a kiss, at the hunger that ravaged me in its wake, that might ravage Prythian. And all around us, as if the world itself were indeed falling apart, stars rained down. Bits of stardust glowed on his lips as he pulled away, as I stared up at him, breathless, while he smiled. The smile the world would likely never see, the smile he'd given up for the sake of his people, his lands. He said softly, 'I am... very glad I met you, Feyre.' I blinked away the burning in my eyes. 'Come on,' I said, tugging on his hand. 'Let's go join the dance.”

“Rhys kept starting at the table as he said, 'I didn't know. That you were with Tamlin. That you were staying at the Spring Court. Amarantha sent me that day after the Summer Solstice because I'd been so successful on Calanmai. I was prepared to mock him, maybe pick a fight. But then I got into that room, and the scent was familiar, but hidden... And then I saw the plate, and felt the glamour, and... There you were. Living in my second-most enemy's house. Dining with him. Reeking of his scent. Looking at him like... Like you loved him.' The whites of his knuckles showed. 'And I decided that I had to scare Tamlin. I had to scare you, and Lucien, but mostly Tamlin. Because I saw how he looked at you, too. So what I did that day...' His lips were pale, tight. 'I broke into your mind and held it enough that you felt it, that it terrified you, hurt you. I made Tamlin beg- as Amarantha had made me beg, to show him how powerless he was to save you. And I prayed my performance was enough to get him to send you away. Back to the human realm, away from Amarantha. Because she was going to find you. If you broke that curse, she was going to find you and kill you. 'But I was so selfish- I was so stupidly selfish that I couldn't walk away without knowing your name. And you were looking at me like I was a monster, so I told myself it didn't matter, anyway. But you lied when I asked. I knew you did. I had your mind in my hands, and you had the defiance and foresight to lie to my face. So I walked away from you again. I vomited my guts up as soon as I left.' My lips wobbled, and I pressed them together. 'I checked back once. To ensure you were gone. I went with them the day they sacked the manor- to make my performance complete. I told Amarantha the name of that girl, thinking you'd invented it. I had no idea... I had no idea she'd sent her cronies to retrieve Clare. But if I admitted my lie...' He swallowed hard. 'I broke into Clare's head when they brought her Under the Mountain. I took away her pain, and told her to scream when expected to. So they... they did those things to her, and I tried to make it right, but... After a week, I couldn't let them do it. Hurt her like that anymore. So while they tortured her, I slipped into her mind again and ended it. She didn't feel any pain. She felt none of what they did to her, even at the end. But... But I still see her. And my men. And the others that I killed for Amarantha.' Two tears slid down his cheeks, swift and cold. He didn't wipe them away as he said, 'I thought it was done after that. With Clare's death. Amarantha believed you were dead. So you were safe, and far away, and my people were safe, and Tamlin had lost, so... It was done. We were done. But then... I was in the back of the throne room that day the Attor brought you in. And I have never known such horror, Feyre, as I did when I watched you make that bargain. Irrational, stupid terror- I didn't know you. I didn't even know your name. But I thought of those painter's hands, the flowers I'd seen you create. And how she'd delight in breaking your fingers apart. I had to stand and watch as the Attor and its cronies beat you. I had to watch the disgust and hatred on your face as you looked at me, watched me threaten to shatter Lucien's mind. And then- then I learned your name. Hearing you say it... it was like an answer to a question I'd been asking for five hundred years.”

“I saw you through your dreams- and I hoarded the images, sorting through them over and over again, trying to place where you you were, who you were. But you had such horrible nightmares, and the creatures belonged to all courts. I'd wake up with your scent in my nose, and it would haunt me all day, every step. But then one night, you dreamed of standing amongst green hills, seeing unlit bonfires for Calanmai.' There was such silence in my head. 'I knew there was only one celebration that large; I knew those hills- and I knew you'd probably be there. So I told Amarantha...' Rhys swallowed. 'I told her that I wanted to go to the Spring Court for the celebration, to spy on Tamlin and see if anyone showed up wishing to conspire with him. We were so close to the deadline for the curse that she was paranoid- restless. She told me to bring back traitors. I promised her I would.' His eyes lifted to mine again. 'I got there, and I could smell you. So I tracked that scent, and... And there you were. Human- utterly human, and being dragged away by those piece-of-shit picts, who wanted to...' He shook his head. 'I debated slaughtering them then and there, but then they shoved you, and I just... moved. I started speaking without knowing what I was saying, only that you were there, and I was touching you, and...' He loosed a shuddering breath. There you are. I've been looking for you. His first words to me- not a lie at all, not a threat to keep those faeries away. Thank you for finding her for me. I had the vague feeling of the world slipping out from under my feet like sand washing away from the shore. 'You looked at me,' Rhys said, 'and I knew you had no idea who I was. That I might have seen your dreams, but you hadn't seen mine. And you were just... human. You were so young, and breakable, and had no interest in me whatsoever, and I knew that if I stayed too long, someone would see and report back, and she'd find you. So I started walking away, thinking you'd be glad to get rid of me. But then you called after me, like you couldn't let go of me just yet, whether you knew it or not. And I knew... I knew we were on dangerous ground, somehow. I knew that I could never speak to you, or see you, or think of you again. 'I didn't want to know why you were in Prythian; I didn't even want to know your name. Because seeing you in my dreams had been one thing, but in person... Right then, deep down, I think I knew what you were. And I didn't let myself admit it, because it there was the slightest chance that you were my mate... They would have done such unspeakable things to you, Feyre. 'So I let you walk away. I told myself after you were gone that maybe... maybe the Cauldron had been kind, and not cruel, for letting me see you. Just once. A gift for what I was enduring. And when you were gone, I found those three picts. I broke into their minds, reshaping their lives, their histories, and dragged them before Amarantha. I made them confess to conspiring to find other rebels that night. I made them lie and claim that they hated her. I watched her carve them up while they were still alive, protesting their innocence. I enjoyed it- because I knew what they had wanted to do to you. And knew that it would have paled in comparison to what Amarantha would have done if she'd found you.' I wrapped a hand around my throat. I had my reasons to be out there, he'd once said to me Under the Mountain. Do not think, Feyre, that it did not cost me.”

“Thank you for warming the bed,' I said into the dimness. His back was to me, but I heard him clearly as he said. 'Amarantha never once thanked me for that.' Any warmth leeched away. 'She didn't suffer enough.' Not even close, for what she had done. To me, to him, to Clare, to so many others.”

“I had done everything- everything for that love. I had ripped myself to shreds, I had killed innocents and debased myself, and he had sat beside Amarantha on that throne. And he couldn't do anything, hadn't risked it- hadn't risked being caught until there was one night left, and all he'd wanted to do wasn't free me, but fuck me, and- ... And when Amarantha had broken me, when she had snapped my bones and made my blood boil in its veins, he'd just knelt and begged her. He hadn't tried to kill her, hadn't crawled for me. Yes, he'd fought for me- but I'd fought harder for him. ... And he had the nerve once his powers were back to shove me into a cage. The nerve to say I was no longer useful; I was to be cloistered for his peace of mind. He'd given me everything I'd needed to become myself, to feel safe, and when he got what he wanted- when he got his power back, his lands back... he stopped trying. He was still good, still Tamlin, but he was just... wrong. And then I was sobbing through my clenched teeth, the tears washing away that infected wound, and I didn't care that Cassian was there, or Rhys or Azriel.”

“Some small part of me whispered that I could survive Amarantha; I could survive leaving Tamlin; I could survive transitioning into this new, strange body... But that empty, cold hole in my chest... I wasn't sure I could survive that. Even in the years I'd been one bad week away from starvation, that part of me had been full of colour, of light. Maybe becoming a faerie had broken it. Maybe Amarantha had broken it. Or maybe I had broken it, when I shoved that dagger into the hearts of two innocent faeries and their blood had warmed my hands.”

“When Amarantha made me kill those two faeries, if the third hadn't been Tamlin, I would have put the dagger in my own heart at the end.' Rhys went still. 'I knew there was no coming back from what I'd done,' I said, wondering if the blue flame in the Carver's eyes might burn my ruined soul to ash. 'And once I broke their curse, once I knew I'd saved them, I just wanted enough time to turn that dagger on myself. I only decided I wanted to live when she killed me, and I knew I had not finished whatever... whatever it was I'd been born to do.' I dared a glance at Rhys, and there was something like devastation on his beautiful face. It was gone in a blink.”

“I didn't think I could get through that dinner.' 'What do you mean?' He'd been rather... calm. Contained. 'Your sisters mean well, or one of them does. But seeing them, sitting at that table... I hadn't realised it would hit me as strongly. How young you were. How they didn't protect you.' 'I managed just fine.' 'We owe them our gratitude for letting us use this house,' he said quietly, 'but it will be a long while yet before I can look at your sisters without wanting to roar at them.' 'A part of me feels the same way,' I admitted, nestling down into the blankets. 'But if I hadn't gone into those woods, if they hadn't let me go out there alone... You would still be enslaved. And perhaps Amarantha would now be readying her forces to wipe out these lands.”