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Sarah J. Maas

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“It's been a week,' I said by way of greeting. 'Take me home.' Rhys took a long sip of whatever was in his cup. It didn't look like tea. 'Good morning, Feyre.' 'Take me home.' He studied my teal and gold clothes, a variation of my daily attire. If I had to admit, I didn't mind them. 'That colour suits you.' 'Do you want me to say please? Is that it?' 'I want you to talk to me like a person. Start with 'good morning' and let's see where it gets us.' 'Good morning. A faint smile. Bastard. 'Are you ready to face the consequences of your departure?' I straightened. I hadn't thought about the wedding. All week, yes, but today... today I'd only thought of Tamlin, of wanting to see him, hold him, ask him about everything Rhys had claimed. ... 'It's none of your business.' 'Right. You'll probably ignore it, anyway. Sweep it under the rug, like everything else.' 'No one asked for your opinion, Rhysand.' 'Rhysand?' He chuckled, low and soft. 'I give you a week of luxury and you call me Rhysand?' 'I didn't ask to be here, or be given that week.' 'And yet look at you. Your face has some colour- and those marks under your eyes are almost gone. Your mental shield is stellar, by the way.' 'Please take me home.”

“When- when are you taking me there?' If I had to go underground, had to see those kinds of horrors again... I'd beg him- beg him not to take me. I didn't care how pathetic it made me. I'd lost any sort of qualms about what lines I'd cross to survive. 'I'm not.' He rolled his shoulders. 'This is my home, and the court beneath it is my... occupation, as you mortals call it. I do not like for the two to overlap very often.' My brows rose slightly. '"You mortals"?' Starlight danced along the planes of his face. 'Should I consider you something different?' A challenge, I shoved away my irritation at the amusement again tugging at the corners of his lips, and instead said, 'And the other denizens of your court?' The Night Court territory was enormous- bigger than any other in Prythian. And all around us were those empty, snow-blasted mountains. No sign of towns, cities, or anything. 'Scattered throughout, dwelling as they wish. Just as you are now free to roam where you wish.' 'I wish to roam home.' Rhys laughed.”

“What will everyone call me then?' 'Hmm?' 'Is everyone just going to call me "Tamlin's wife"? Do I get a... title?' 'Do you want a title?' 'No. But I don't want people... I don't know if I can handle them calling me High Lady.' 'They won't. There is no such thing as a High Lady.' 'What do you mean, there's no such thing as a High Lady?' 'High Lords only take wives, consorts. There has never been a High Lady.' 'But Lucien's mother-' 'She's lady of the Autumn Court. Not High Lady. Just as you will be Lady of the Spring Court. They will address you as they address her. They will respect you as they respect her.' 'So Lucien's-' 'I don't want to hear another male's name on your lips right now.”

“I saw a pretty shop across the Sidra the other day. It sold what looked to be lots of lacy little things. Am I allowed to buy that on your credit, too, or does that come out of my personal funds?' Those violet eyes again drifted to me. 'I'm not in the mood.' There was no humour, no mischief. I could go warm myself by a fire inside, but... He had stayed. And fought for me. Week after week, he'd fought for me, even when I had no reaction, even when I had been been able to speak or bring myself to care if I lived or died or ate or starved. I couldn't leave him to his own dark thoughts, his own guilt. He'd shouldered them alone long enough. So I held his gaze. 'I never knew Illyrians were such morose drunks.' 'I'm not drunk- I'm drinking,' he said, his teeth flashing a bit. 'Again semantics,' I leaned back in my seat, wishing I'd brought my coat. 'Maybe you should have slept with Cresseida after all- so you could both be sad and lonely together.' 'So you're entitled to have as many bad days as you want, but I can't get a few hours?' 'Oh, take however long you want to mope. I was going to invite you to come shopping with me for said lacy little unmentionables, but... sit up here forever, if you have to.' He didn't respond. I went on, 'Maybe I'll send a few to Tarquin- with an offer to wear them for him if he forgives us. Maybe he'll take those blood rubies right back.' His mouth barely, barely tugged up at the corners. 'He'd see that as a taunt.' 'I gave him a few smiles and he handed over a family heirloom. I bet he'd give me the keys to his territory if I showed up wearing those undergarments.' 'Someone thinks mighty highly of herself.' 'Why shouldn't I? You seem to have difficulty not staring at me day and night.' There it was - a kernel of truth and a question. 'Am I supposed to deny,' he drawled, but something sparked in those eyes, 'That I find you attractive?' 'You've never said it.' 'I've told you many times, and quite frequently, how attractive I find you.' I shrugged, even as I thought of all those times- when I'd dismissed them as teasing compliments, nothing more. 'Well, maybe you should do a better job of it.' The gleam in his eyes turned into something predatory. A thrill went through me as he braced his powerful arms on the table and purred, 'Is that a challenge, Feyre?' I held that predator's gaze- the gaze of the most powerful male in Prythian. 'Is it?' His pupils flared. Gone was the quiet sadness, the isolated guilt. Only that lethal force- on me. On my mouth. On the bob of my throat as I tried to keep my breathing even. He said, slow and soft, 'Why don't we go down to that store right now, Feyre, so you can try on those lacy little things- so I can help you pick which ones to send to Tarquin.' My toes curled inside my fleece-lined slippers. Such a dangerous line we walked together.”

“We're one of the three Solar Courts,' he said, motioning for me to sit with a graceful twist of his wrist. 'Our nights are far more beautiful and our sunsets and dawns are exquisite, but we do adhere to the laws of nature.' I slid into the upholstered chair across from him. His tunic was unbuttoned at the neck, revealing a hint of the tanned chest beneath. 'And do the other courts choose not to?' 'The nature of the Seasonal Courts,' he said, 'is linked to their High Lords, whose magic and will keeps them in eternal spring, or winter, or fall, or summer. It has always been like that- some sort of strange stagnation. But the Solar Courts- Day, Dawn, and Night- are of a more... symbolic nature. We might be powerful, but even we cannot alter the sun's path or strength. Tea?' The sunlight danced along the curve of the silver teapot. I kept my eager nod to a restrained dip of my chin. 'But you will find,' Rhysand went on, pouring a cup for me,' that our nights are more spectacular- so spectacular that some in my territory even awaken at sunset and go to bed at dawn, just to live under the starlight.”

“Nesta was sprawled upon the stones. I knew that she was different. From however Elain had been Made... Nesta was different. Even before she took her first breath, I felt it. As if the Cauldron in making her... had been forced to give more than it wanted. As if Nesta had fought even after she went under, and had decided that if she was to be dragged into hell, she was taking that Cauldron with her. As if that finger she'd pointed was now a death-promise to the King of Hybern.”

“Elain was staring over Nesta's shoulder. At Lucien- whose face she had finally taken in. Dark brown eyes met one eye of russet and one of metal. Nesta was still weeping, still raging, still inspecting Elain- Lucien's hands slackened at his sides. His voice broke as he whispered to Elain, 'You're my mate.' ... Nesta, however, whirled on him. 'She is no such thing,' she said, and shoved him again. Lucien didn't move an inch. His face was pale as death as he stared at Elain. My sister said nothing, the iron ring glinting dully on her finger.”

“Break the bond. The bargain, the- the mating bond. He- he made me do it, made me swear it-' 'No,' Rhysand said. I ignored him, even as my heart broke, even as I knew that he hadn't meant to say it- 'Do it,' I begged the king, even as I silently prayed he wouldn't notice his ruined wards, the door I'd left wide open. 'I know you can. Just- free me. Free me from it.' 'No,' Rhysand said. But Tamlin was staring between us. And I looked at thim, the High Lord I had once loved, and I breathed. 'No more. No more death- no more killing.' I sobbed through my clenched teeth. Made myself look at my sisters. 'No more. Take me home and let them go. Tell him it's part of the bargain and let them go. But no more- please.' Cassian slowly, every movement pained, stirred enough to look over a shredded wing at me. And in his pain-glazed eyes, I saw it- the understanding. The Court of Dreams. I had belonged to a court of dreams. And dreamers. And for their dreams... for what they had worked for, sacrificed for... I could do it. Get my sisters out, I said to Rhys one last time, sending it into that stone wall between us. I looked to Tamlin. 'No more.' Those green eyes met mine- and the sorrow and tenderness in them was the most hideous thing I'd ever seen. 'Take me home.' Tamlin said flatly to the king, 'Let them go, break her bond, and let's be done with it. Her sisters come with us. You've already crossed too many lines.' Jurian began objecting, but the king said, 'Very well.' 'No,' was all Rhys said again. Tamlin snarled at him, 'I don't give a shit if she's your mate. I don't give a shit if you think you're entitled to her. She is mine- and one day, I am going to repay every bit of pain she felt, every bit of suffering and despair. One day, perhaps when she decides she wants to end you, I'll be happy to oblige her.' Walk away- just go. Take my sisters with you. Rhys was only staring at me. 'Don't.' But I backed away- until I hit Tamlin's chest, until his hands, warm and heavy, landed on my shoulders. 'Do it,' he said to the king. 'No,' Rhys said again, his voice breaking. But the king pointed at me. And I screamed. Tamlin gripped my arms as I screamed and screamed at the pain that tore through my chest, my left arm. Rhysand was on the ground, roaring, and I thought he might have said my name, might have bellowed it as I thrashed and sobbed. I was being shredded, I was dying, I was dying- No. No, I didn't want it, I didn't want to- A crack sounded in my ears. And the world cleaved in two as the bond snapped.”

“Rhys shut the door and went to a small box on the desk- then silently handed it to me. My heart thundered as I opened the lid. The star sapphire gleamed in the candlelight, as if it were one of the Starfall spirits trapped in stone. 'Your mother's ring?' 'My mother gave me that ring to remind me she was always with me, even during the worst of my training. And when I reached my majority, she took it away. It was an heirloom of her family- had been handed down from female to female over many, many years. My sister wasn't yet born, so she wouldn't have known to give it to her, but... My mother gave it to the Weaver. And then she told me that if I were to marry or mate, then the female would either have to be smart or strong enough to get it back. And if the female wasn't either of those things, then she wouldn't survive the marriage. I promised my mother that any potential bride or mate would have the test... And so it sat there for centuries.' My face heated. 'You said this was something of value-' 'It is. To me, and my family.' 'So my trip to the Weaver-' 'It was vital that we learn if you could detect those objects. But... I picked the object out of pure selfishness.' 'So I won my wedding ring without even being asked if I wanted to marry you.' 'Perhaps.' I cocked my head. 'Do- do you want me to wear it?' 'Only if you want to.' 'When we go to Hybern... Let's say things go badly. Will anyone be able to tell that we're mated? Could they use that against you?' Rage flickered in his eyes. 'If they see us together and can scent us both, they'll know.' 'And if I show up alone, wearing a Night Court wedding ring-' He snarled softly. I closed the box, leaving the ring inside. 'After we nullify the Cauldron, I want to do it all. Get the bond declared, get married, throw a stupid party and invite everyone in Velaris- all of it.' Rhys took the box from my hands and set it down on the nightstand before herding me toward the bed. 'And if I wanted to go one step beyond that?' 'I'm listening,' I purred as he laid me on the sheets.”

“Where is she?' Amren snapped one more time. I couldn't bring myself to say the words. So Mor said them for me as she knelt over Azriel, both of my brothers mercifully unconscious. 'Tamlin offered passage through his lands and our heads on platters to the kings in exchange for trapping Feyre, breaking her bond, and getting to bring her back to the Spring Court. But Ianthe betrayed Tamlin- told the king where to find Feyre's sisters. So the king had Feyre's sisters brought with the queens- to prove he could make immortal. He put them in to the Cauldron. We could do nothing as they were turned. He had us by the balls.' Those quicksilver eyes shot to me. 'Rhysand.' I managed to say, 'We Were out of options, and Feyre knew it. So she pretended to free herself from the control Tamlin thought I'd kept on her mind. Pretended that she... hated us. And told him she'd go home- but only if the killing stopped. If we went free.' 'And the bond,' Amren breathed, Cassian's blood shining on her hands as she slowed its dribbling. Mor said, 'She asked the king to breath the bond. He obliged.' I thought I might be dying- thought my chest might actually be cleaved in two. 'That's impossible,' Amren said. 'That sort of bond cannot be broken.' 'The king said he could do it.' 'The king is a fool,' Amren barked. 'That sort of bond cannot be broken.' 'No, it can't,' I said. They both looked at me. I cleared my head, my shattering heart- breaking for what my mate had done, sacrificed for me and my family. For her sisters. Because she hadn't thought... hadn't thought she was essential. Even after all she had done. 'The king broke the bargain between us. Hard to do, but he couldn't tell that it wasn't the mating bond.' More started. 'Does- does Feyre know-' 'Yes,' I breathed. 'And now my mate is in my enemy's hands.”

“I'll come with you,' I said softly to Tamlin, to Lucien, shifting on his feet, 'if you leave them alone. Let them go.' You do not hold me. Tamlin's face contorted with wrath. 'They're monsters. They're-' He didn't finish as he stalked across the floor to grab me. To drag me out of here, then no doubt winnow away. You do not hold me. The fist gripping my power relaxed. Vanished. Tamlin lunged for me over the few feet that remained. So fast- too fast- I became mist and shadow. I winnowed beyond his reach. The king let out a low laugh as Tamlin stumbled. And went sprawling as Rhysand's fist connected with his face. Panting, I retreated right into Rhysand's arms as one looped around my waist, as Azriel's blood on him soaked into my back. Behind us, Mor leaped in to fill the space Rhys had vacated, slinging Azriel's arm over her shoulders. ... Tamlin rose, wiping the blood now trickling from his nose as he backed to where Lucien held his position with a hand on his sword. But just as Tamlin neared his Emissary, he staggered a step. His face went white with rage. And I knew Tamlin understood a moment before the king laughed. 'I don't believe it. Your bride left you only to find her mate. The Mother has a warped sense of humour, it seems. And what a talent- tell me, girl; how did you unravel that spell?' I ignored him. But the hatred in Tamlin's eyes made my knees buckle. 'I'm sorry,' I said, and meant it. Tamlin's eyes were on Rhysand, his face near-feral. 'You,' he snarled, the sound more animal than Fae. 'What did you do to her?”

“The king jerked his chin at my left arm. 'Break that bond between you two.' 'Please,' I whispered. 'How else is Tamlin to have his bride? He can't very well have a wife who runs off to another male once a month.' Rhys remained silent, though his grip tightened on Azriel. Observing- weighing, sorting through the lock on his power. The thought of that silence between our souls being permanent... My voice cracked as I said to Tamlin, still at the opposite end of the crude half circle we'd formed before the dais. 'Don't. Don't let him. I told you- I told you that I was fine. That I left-' 'You weren't well,' Tamlin snarled. 'He used that bond to manipulate you. Why do you think I was gone so often? I was looking for a way to get you free. And you left.' 'I left because I was going to die in that house.' The King of Hybern clicked his tongue. 'Not what you expected, is it?' Tamlin growled at him, but again held out his hand toward me. 'Come home with me. Now.' 'No.' 'Feyre.' An unflinching command. Rhys was barely breathing- barely moving. And I realised... realised it was to keep his scent from becoming apparent. Our scent. Our mating bond.”

“I'm not going with you,' I spat at Tamlin. 'And even if I did... You spineless, stupid fool for selling us out to him! Do you know what he wants to do with that Cauldron?' 'Oh, I'm going to do many, many things with it,' the king said. And the Cauldron appeared again between us. 'Starting now.”

“There were different types of torture, I realised. There was the torture that I had endured, that Rhys had endured. And then there was this. The torture that Rhys had worked so hard those fifty years to avoid; the nightmares that haunted him. To be unable to move, to fight... while our loved ones were broken. My eyes met with those of my mate. Agony rippled in that violet stare- rage and guilt and utter agony. The mirror to my own.”

“Nesta fought every step of the way. She did not make it easy for them. She clawed and kicked and bucked. And it was not enough. And we were not enough to save her. I watched as she was hoisted up. Elain remained shuddering on the ground. Lucien's coat draped around her. She did not look at the Cauldron. Cassian stirred again, his shredded wings twitching and spraying blood, his muscles quivering. At Nesta's shouts, her raging, his eyes fluttered open, glazed and unseeing, an answer to some call in his blood, a promise he'd made her. But pain knocked him under again. Nesta was shoved into the water up to her shoulders. She bucked even as the water sprayed. She clawed and screamed her rage, her defiance. 'Put her under,' the king hissed. The guards straining, shoved her slender shoulders. Her brown-gold head. And as they pushed her head down, she thrashed one last time, freeing her long, pale arm Teeth bared, Nesta pointed one finger at the King of Hybern. One finger, a curse and a damning. A promise. And as Nesta's head was forced under the water, as that hand was violently shoved down, the King of Hybern had the good sense to look somewhat unnerved.”

“Tamlin?' I peered at my hands, the blood, and when I beheld Rhys, when I saw my grim-faced friends, and my drenched, immortal sisters- There was nothing but shock and confusion on Rhys's face as I scrambled back from him. Away from them. Toward Tamlin. 'Tamlin,' I managed to say again. Lucien's eye widened as he stepped between me and Elain. I whirled on the King of Hybern. 'Where-' I again faced Rhysand, 'What did you do to me,' I breathed, low and guttural. Backing toward Tamlin. 'What did you do?' Get them out. Get my sisters out. Play- please play along. Please- There was no sound, no shield, no glimmer of feeling in our bond. The king's power had blocked it out too thoroughly. There was nothing I could do against it, Cursebreaker or no. But Rhys slid his hands into his pockets as he purred, 'How did you get free?' 'What?' Jurian seethed, pushing off the wall and storming toward us. But I turned toward Tamlin and ignored the features and smell and clothes that were all wrong. He watched me warily. 'Don't let him take me again, don't let him- don't-' I couldn't keep the sobs from shuddering out, not as the full force of what I was doing hit me. 'Feyre,' Tamlin said softly. And I knew I had won. I sobbed harder. Get my sisters out, I begged Rhys through the silent bond. I ripped the wards open for you- all of you. Get them out. 'Don't let him take me,' I sobbed again. 'I don't want to go back.' And when I looked at Mor, at the tears streaming down her face as she helped Cassian get upright, I knew she realised what I meant. But the tears vanished- became sorrow for Cassian as she turned a hateful, horrified face to Rhysand and spat, 'What did you do to that girl?' Rhys cocked his head. 'How did you do it, Feyre?' There was so much blood on him. One last game- this was one last game we were to play together.”

“Jurian stalked over to Lucien amid the rising squabble, laughing under his breath, 'Do you know what Illyrian bastards do to pretty females? You won't have a mate left- at least not one that's useful to you in any way.' Lucien's answering growl was nothing short of feral. I spat at Jurian's feet. 'You can go to hell, you hideous prick.' Tamlin's hands tightened at my shoulders. Lucien spun toward me and that metal eye whirred and narrowed. Centuries of cultivated reason clicked into place. I was not panicking at my sisters being taken. I said quietly, 'We will get her back.' But Lucien was watching me warily. Too warily. I said to Tamlin, 'Take me home.”

“Slowly, I turned around, to where the soup was now boiling, and ladled it into a bowl. He watched every step I took to the table, the steaming bowl in my hands. I stopped before him, staring down. And I said, 'You love me?' Rhys nodded. And I wondered if love was too weak a word for what he felt, what he'd done for me. For what I felt for him. I set the bowl down before him. 'Then eat.”

“I think I fell in love with you,' Rhys murmured, stroking a finger down my arm, 'the moment I realised you were cleaving those bones to make a trap for the Middengard Wyrm. Or maybe the moment you flipped me off for mocking you. It reminded me so much of Cassian. For the first time in decades, I wanted to laugh.' 'You fell in love with me,' I said flatly, 'because I reminded you of your friend?' He flicked my nose. 'I fell in love with you, smartass, because you were one of us- because you weren't afraid of me, and you decided to end your spectacular victory by throwing that piece of bone at Amarantha like a javelin. I felt Cassian's spirit beside me in that moment, and could have sworn I heard him say, "if you don't marry her, you stupid prick, I will.”

“But then Cassian crossed to Nesta, the guards stiffening as the Illyrian moved through them as if they were stalks of wheat in a field. He studied Nesta for a long moment. She was still glaring at the queens, her eyes lined with tears- tears of rage and despair, from the fire that burned her so violently from within. When she finally noticed Cassian, she looked up at him. His voice was rough as he said, 'Five hundred years ago, I fought on battlefields not far from this house. I fought beside human and faerie alike, bled beside them. I will stand on that battlefield again, Nesta Archeron, to protect this house- your people. I can think of no better way to end my existence than to defend those who need it most.' I watched a tear slide down Nesta's cheek. And I watched as Cassian reached up a hand to wipe it away. She did not flinch from his touch. I didn't know why, but I looked at Mor. Her eyes were wide. Not from jealously, or irritation, but... something perhaps like awe.”

“I ran again, losing myself amongst my water-wolves. Some of the soldiers were taking to the sky, flapping upward, backtracking. So my wolves grew wings, and talons, and became falcons and hawks and eagles. They slammed into their bodies, their armour, drenching them. The airborne soldiers, realising they hadn't been drowned, halted their flight and laughed- sneering. I lifted a hand skyward, and clenched my fingers into a fist. The water soaking them, their wings, their armour, their faces... It turned to ice. Ice that was so cold it had existed before light, before the sun had warmed the earth. Ice of a land cloaked in winter, ice from the parts of me that felt no mercy, no sympathy for what these creatures had done and were doing to my people. Frozen solid, dozens of the winged soldiers fell to the earth as one. And shattered upon the cobblestones. My wolves raged around me, tearing and drowning and hunting. And those that fled them, those that took to the skies- they froze and shattered; froze and shattered. Until the streets were laden with ice and gore and broken bits of wing and stone. Until the screaming of my people stopped, and the screams of the soldiers became a song in my blood.”

“Aren't you going to say anything?' he said at last. 'I was going to tell you what I'd decided the moment I saw you on the threshold.' Rhys twisted in his seat toward me. 'And now?' Aware of every breath, every movement, I sat in his lap. HIs hands gently braced my hips as I studied his face. 'And now I want you to know, Rhysand, that I love you. I want you to know...' His lips trembled, and I brushed away the tear that escaped down his cheek. 'I want you to know,' I whispered, 'that I am broken and healing, but every piece of my heart belongs to you. And I am honoured- honoured to be your mate.' His arms wrapped around me and he pressed his forehead to my shoulder, his body shaking. I stroked a hand through his silken hair. 'I love you,' I said again. I hadn't dared say the words in my head. 'And I'd endure every second of it over again so I could find you. And if war comes, we'll face it. Together. I won't let them take me from you. And I won't let them take you from me, either.' Rhys looked up, his face gleaming with tears. He went still as I leaned in, kissing away one tear. Then the other. As he had once kissed away mine. When my lips were wet and salty with them, I pulled back far enough to see his eyes. 'You're mine,' I breathed. His body shuddered with what might have been a sob, but his lips found my own. It was gentle- soft. The kiss he might have given me if we'd been granted time and peace to meet across our two separate worlds. To court each other. I slid my arms around his shoulders, opening my mouth to him, and his tongue slipped in, caressing my own. Mate- my mate.”

“I think I was falling in love with you for a while,' I said, the words barely audible over the trickle of water as I washed his beautiful wings. 'But I knew on Starfall. Or came close to knowing and was so scared of it that I didn't want to look closer. I was a coward.' 'You had perfectly good reasons to avoid it.' 'No, I didn't. Maybe- thanks to Tamlin, yes. But it had nothing to do with you, Rhys. Nothing to do with you. I was never afraid of the consequences of being with you. Even if every assassin in the world hunts us... it's worth it. You are worth it.' His head dipped a bit. And he said hoarsely, 'Thank you.' My heart broke for him then- for the years he'd spent thinking the opposite. I kissed his bare neck, and he reached back to drag a finger down my cheek.”

“He tugged on my wet hair. 'We'll have to find a way to put a damper on that light.' 'I can keep the shadows hidden easily enough.' 'Ah, but you only lose control of those when you're pissed. And since I have every intention of making you as happy as a person can be... I have a feeling we'll need to learn to control that wondrous glow.' 'Always thinking; always calculating.' Rhys kissed the corner of my mouth. 'You have no idea how many things I've thought up when it comes to you.' 'I remember mention of a wall.' His laugh was a sensual promise. 'Next time, Feyre, I'll fuck you against the wall.' 'Hard enough to make the pictures fall off.”

“He was sitting on the roof- in the dark. His great wings were spread behind him, draped over the tiles. I slid into his lap, looping my arms around his neck. He stared at the city around us. 'So few lights. So few lights left tonight.' I did not look. I only traced the lines of his face, then brushed my thumb over his mouth. 'It is not your fault,' I said quietly. His eyes shifted to mine, barely visible in the dark. 'Isn't it? I handed this city over to them. I said I would be willing to risk it, but... I don't know who I hate more: the king, those queens, or myself.' I brushed the hair out of his face. He gripped my hand, halting my fingers. 'You shut me out,' he breathed. 'You- shielded against me. Completely. I couldn't find a way in.' 'I'm sorry.' Rhys let out a bitter laugh. 'Sorry? Be impressed. That shield... What you did to the Attor...' He shook his head. 'You could have been killed.' 'Are you going to scold me for it?' His brow furrowed. Then he buried his face in my shoulder. 'How could I scold you for defending my people? I want to throttle you, yes, for not going back to the town house, but... You chose to fight for them. For Velaris.' He kissed my neck. 'I don't deserve you.' My heart strained. He meant it- truly felt that way. I stroked his hair again. And I said to him, the words the only sound in the silent, dark city, 'We deserve each other. And we deserve to be happy.' Rhys shuddered against me. And when his lips found mine, I let him lay me down upon the roof tiles and make love to me under the stars.”

“I awoke, warm and rested and calm. Safe. Sunlight streamed through the filthy window, illuminating the reds and golds in the wall of wing before me- where it had been all night, shielding me from the cold. Rhysand's arms were banded around me, his breathing deep and even. And I knew it was just as rare for him to sleep that soundly, peacefully. What we'd done last night... Carefully, I twisted to face him, his arms tightening slightly, as if to keep me from vanishing with the morning mist. His eyes were open when I nestled my head against his arm. Within the shelter of the wing, we watched each other. And I realised I might very well be content to do exactly that forever.”

“His head lifted. Pain-filled eyes, bloodless lips. 'You saved me,' he rasped. 'You can explain who they were later.' 'Ambush,' Rhys said anyway, his eyes scanning my face for signs of hurt. 'Hybern soldiers with ancient chains from the king himself, to nullify my power. They must have traced the magic I used yesterday... I'm sorry.' The words tumbled out of him. I brushed back his dark hair. That was why I hadn't been able to use the bond to speak mind to mind. 'Rest,' I said, and moved to retrieve the blanket from my pack. It'd have to do. He gripped my wrist before I could rise. His eyelids lowered. Consciousness ripped from him- too fast. Much too fast and too heavy. 'I was looking for you, too,' Rhys murmured. And passed out.”

“I'd run away. Precisely how Rhys expected me to run- how I'd told him anyone in their right mind would run from him. Like a coward, like a fool, I'd left him injured in the freezing mud. I'd walked away from him- a day after I'd told him he was the only thing I'd never walk away from. I'd demanded honesty, and at the first true test, I hadn't even let him give it to me. I hadn't granted him the consideration of hearing him out. You see me. Well, I'd refused to see him. Maybe I'd refused to see what was right in front of me. I'd walked away. And maybe... maybe I shouldn't have.”

“I'd painted nearly every surface in the main room. And not with just broad swaths of colour, but with decorations- little images. Some were basic: colours of icicles drooping down the sides of the threshold. They melted into the first shoots of spring, then burst into full blooms of summer, before brightening and deepening into fall leaves. I'd painted a ring of flowers round the card table by the window, leaves and crackling flames around the dining table. But in between the intricate decorations, I'd painted them. Bits and pieces of Mor, and Cassian, and Azriel, and Amren... and Rhys. Mor went up to the large hearth, where I'd painted the mantel in black shimmering with veins of gold and red. Up close, it was a solid pretty bit of paint. But from the couch... 'Illyrian wings,' she said. 'Ugh, they'll never stop gloating about it.' But she went to the window, which I'd framed in tumbling strands of gold and brass and bronze. Mor fingered her hair, cocking her head. 'Nice,' she said, surveying the room again. Her eyes fell on the open threshold to the bedroom hallway, and she grimaced. 'Why,' she said, 'are Amren's eyes there?' Indeed, right above the door, in the centre of the archway, I'd painted a pair of glowing silver eyes. 'Because she's always watching.' Mor snorted. 'That simply won't do. Paint my eyes next to hers. So the males of this family will know we're both watching them the next time they come up here to get drunk for a week straight.' 'They do that?' They used to.' Before Amarantha. 'Every autumn, the three of them would lock themselves in this house for five days and drink and drink and hunt and hunt, and they'd come back to Velaris looking halfway to death but grinning like fools. It warms my heart to know that from now on, they'll have to do it with me and Amren staring at them.”

“You should talk to him, though. Make him stew over it, of course, but... hear him out.' She didn't look at me as she spoke. 'Rhys always has his reasons, and he might be arrogant as hell, but he's usually right about his instincts. He makes mistakes, but... You should hear him out.' I'd already decided that I would.”

“My fingers grazed his. Warm and sturdy- patient, as if waiting to see what else I might do. Maybe it was the wind, but I stroked a finger down his. And as I turned to him more fully, something blinding and tinkling slammed into my face. I reeled back, crying out as I bent over, shielding my face against the light that I could still see against my shut eyes. Rhys let out a startled laugh. A laugh. And when I realised that my eyes hadn't been singed out of their sockets, I whirled on him. 'I could have been blinded!' I hissed, shoving him. He took a look at my face and burst out laughing again. Real laughter, open and delighted and lovely. I wiped at my face, and when I pulled my hands down, I gasped. Pale green light- like drops of paint- glowed in flecks on my hand. Splattered star-spirit. I didn't know if I should be horrified or amused. Or disgusted. When I went to rub it off, Rhys caught my hand. 'Don't,' he said, still laughing. 'It looks like your freckles are glowing.' My nostrils flared, and I went to shove him again, not caring if my new strength knocked him off the balcony. He could summon wings; he could deal with it. He sidestepped me, veering toward the balcony rail, but not fast enough to avoid the careening star that collided with the side of his face. He leaped back with a curse. I laughed, the sound rasping out of me. Not a chuckle or snort, but a cackling laugh. And I laughed again, and again, as he lowered his hands from his eyes. The entire left side of his face had been hit. Like heavenly war paint, that's what it looked like. I could see why he didn't want me to wipe mine away. Rhys was examining his hands, covered in the dust, and I stepped toward him, peering at the way it glowed and glittered. He went still as death as I took one of his hands in my own and traced a star shape on the top of his palm, playing with the glimmer and shadows, until it looked like one of the stars that had hit us. His fingers tightened on mine, and I looked up. He was smiling at me. And looked so un-High-Lord-like with the glowing dust on the side of his face that I grinned back. I hadn't even realised what I'd done until his own smile faded,, and his mouth partly slightly. 'Smile again,' he whispered. I hadn't smiled for him. Ever. Or laughed. Under the Mountain, I had never grinned, never chuckled. And afterward... And this male before me... my friend... For all that he had done, I had never given him either. Even when I had just... I had just painted something. On him. For him. I'd- painted again. So I smiled at him, broad and without restraint. 'You're exquisite,' he breathed.”