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Sarah J. Maas

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“It's so much harder,' she said, groaning as she chucked the rest of the blanket into my lap and rose to her feet. 'When enemies turn into friends. And the opposite, I suppose. What didn't I see? What I overlook or dismiss? It always makes me reassess myself more than them.' 'Another joy of war?' She snorted, heading for the tent flaps. 'No- of life.”

“His body was taut, near-trembling. 'What happened between you?' I hissed when we were lost among the hedges and gravel paths of the garden. 'It's not worth repeating.' 'When I- was taken,' I ventured, almost stumbling on the word, almost saying left, 'Did she and Tamlin...' I was not faking the twisting low in my gut. 'No,' he said hoarsely. 'No. When Calanmai came along, he refused. He flat-out refused to participate. I replaced him in the Rite, but...' ... But Lucien... 'You took Ianthe into that cave on Calanmai?' He wouldn't meet my gaze. 'She insisted. Tamlin was... Things were bad, Feyre. I went in his stead, and I did my duty to the court. I went of my own free will. And we completed the Rite.' No wonder she'd backed off him. She'd gotten what she wanted. 'Please don't tell Elain,' he said. 'When we- when we find her again,' he amended. He might have completed the Great Rite with Ianthe of his own free will, but he certainly hadn't enjoyed it. Some line had been blurred- badly. And my heart shifted a bit in my chest as I said to him with no guile whatsoever, 'I won't tell anyone unless you say so.' The weight of the jewelled knife and belt seemed to grow. 'I wish I had been there to stop it. I should have been there to stop it.' I meant every word. Lucien squeezed our linked arms as we rounded a hedge, the house rising up before us. 'You are a better friend to me, Feyre,' he said quietly, 'than I ever was to you.”

“You were the only ones who came to help. The only ones. And yet you asked for nothing in return. Why?' Rhys's voice was a bit hoarse as he asked, 'Isn't that what friends do?' A subtle, quiet offer. Tarquin took him in. Then me. And the others. 'I rescind the blood rubies. Let there be no debts between us.' 'Don't expect Amren to return hers,' Cassian muttered. 'She's grown attached to it.' I could have sworn a smile tugged at Varian's mouth.”

“His red hair gleamed in the faint firelight a moment later as he shoved through the flaps and swore. 'Maybe I should sleep out there.' I rolled my eyes. 'Please.' A wary, considering glance as he knelt and removed his boots. 'You know Tamlin can be... sensitive about things.' 'He can also be a pain in my ass,' I snapped, and slithered under the blankets. 'If you yield to him on every bit of paranoia and territorialism, you'll just make it worse.' Lucien unbuttoned his jacket but remained mostly dressed as he slid onto his sleeping roll. 'I think it's made worse because you two haven't... I mean, you haven't, right?' I stiffened, tugging the blanket tighter onto my shoulders. 'No. I don't want to be touched like that- not for a while.' His silence was heavy- sad. I hated the lie, hated it for how filthy it felt to wield it. 'I'm sorry,' he said. And I wondered what else he was apologising for as I faced him in the darkness of our tent.”

“What does it say?' 'Utter nonsense,' Amren spat, scowling at the Book. 'It just likes to hear itself talk. Like most of the people cramping up my apartment.' Cassian smirked. 'Did someone forget to feed Amren again?' She pointed a warning finger at him without so much as looking up. 'Is there a reason, Rhysand, why you dragged your yapping pack into my home?”

“Cassian strutted in at last, greeting Mor with a chipper, 'You look terrible- Helion keep you up all night?' She threw her spoon at him. Then her porridge. Cassian caught the first and shielded against the other, his Siphon blazing like an awakening ember. Porridge slid to the floor. 'Helion wanted you to join,' she mildly replied, refilling her tea. 'Quite badly.' 'Maybe next time,' Cassian said.”

“But I did remember lying down on the beaskin rug once it was done. How I felt Elain's slim body settle next to mine and curl into my side, careful not to touch the bandaged wound in my shoulder. I had not realised how cold I was until her warmth seeped into me. A moment later, another warm body nestled on my left. Nesta's scent drifted over me, fire and steel and unbending will. Distantly, I heard Rhys usher everyone out- to join him in checking on Azriel, now under Thesan's care. I didn't know how long my sisters and I lay there together, just like we had once shared that carved bed in that dilapidated cottage. Then- back then, we had kicked and twisted and fought for any bit of space, any breathing room. But that morning, as the son rose over the world, we held tight. And did not let go.”

“I was there that day, you know,' Alis said, folding her spindly arms across her chest. 'I saw the Morrigan arrive. Saw her reach into that cocoon of power and pick you up like a child. I begged her to take you out.' My swallow wasn't feigned. 'I never told him that. Never told any of them. I let them think you'd been abducted. But you clung to her, and she was willing to slaughter all of us for what had happened.' 'I don't know why you'd assume that.' I tugged the edges of my silk robe tighter around me. 'Servants talk. And Under the Mountain, I never heard of or saw Rhysand laying a hand on a servant. Guards. Amarantha's cronies, the people he was ordered to kill, yes. But never the meek. Never those unable to defend themselves.' 'He's a monster.' 'They say you came back different. Came back wrong.' A crow's laugh. 'I never bother to tell them I think you came back right. Came back right at last.”

“He said down the bond, I would have waited five hundred more years for you. A thousand years. And if this was all the time we were allowed to have... The wait was worth it. He wiped away the tears sliding down my face. 'I believe that everything happened, exactly the way it had to... so I could find you.' He kissed another tear away.”

“Nesta surged to her feet, staggering across the clearing, blood at her mouth from where he'd hit her, and threw herself to her knees before Cassian. 'Get up,' she sobbed, hauling at his shoulder. 'Get up.' He tried- and failed. 'You're too heavy,' she pleaded, but still tried to raise him, fingers scrabbling in his black, bloodied armour. 'I can't- he's coming-' 'Go,' Cassian groaned. Her powers had stopped hurling the king across the forest. He now stalked toward them, brushing off splinters and leaves from his jacket- taking his time. Knowing she would not leave. Savouring the awaiting slaughter. Nesta gritted her teeth, trying to haul Cassian up once more. A broken sound of pain ripped from him. 'Go!' he barked at her. 'I can't,' she breathed, voice breaking. 'I can't.' The same words Rhys had given him. Cassian grunted in pain, but lifted his bloodied hands- to cup her face. 'I have no regrets in my life, but this.' HIs voice shook with every word. 'That we did not have time. That I did not have time with you, Nesta.' She didn't stop him as he leaned up and kissed her- lightly. As much as he could manage. Cassian said softly, brushing away the tear that streaked down her face. 'I will find you again in the next world- the next life. And we will have that time. I promise.' The King of Hybern stepped into that clearing, dark power wafting from his fingertips. And even the Cauldron seemed to pause in surprise- surprise or some... feeling as Nesta looked at the king with death twining around his hands, then down at Cassian. And covered Cassian's body with her own. Cassian went still- then his hand slid over her back. Together. They'd go together.”

“After a while, Rhys lifted his chest enough to take my right hand. To examine the tattoos inked there. He kissed one of the whorls of near-black blue ink. His throat bobbed. 'I missed you. Every second, every breath. Not just this,' he said, shifting his hips for emphasis and dragging a groan from deep in my throat, 'but... talking to you. Laughing with you. I missed having you in my bed, but missed having you as my friend even more.”

“And then Nesta began screaming. Not in pain. But a name. Over and over. 'CASSIAN.' Amren reached for her, but Nesta roared, 'CASSIAN!' She scrambled to her feet as if she'd leap into the skies. Her body lurched, and she went down, heaving again. A figure shot from the Illyrian ranks, spearing for us, flapping hard, red Siphons blazing-”

“I am High Lady of the Night Court,' I said quietly to them all. Even Eris stopped sneering. His amber eyes widened, something like fear now creeping into them. 'There's no such thing as a High Lady,' one of Lucien's brothers spat. A faint smile played on my mouth. 'There is now.' And it was time for the world to know it.”

“The longest day of the year, I said into the bond, sending along flickers of all that had occurred atop that hill. I wish I could spend it with you. He would have enjoyed my performance- would have laughed himself hoarse afterward at the expression on Ianthe's face. ... Rhysand's voice filled my mind. It'd be an honour, he said, laughter in every word, to spend even a moment in the company of Feyre Cauldron-blessed. ... Rhysand's faint voice filled my head once more. I wish I could spend today with you, too. The words wrapped a fist around my heart...”

“Lucien asked, 'What is this place?' We all looked at him. 'Home,' I said. 'This is- my home.' I could see the details now sinking in. The lack of darkness. The lack of screaming. The scent of the sea and citrus, not blood and decay. The laughter of children that indeed continued. The greatest secret in Prythian's history. 'This is Velaris,' I explained. 'The City of Starlight.' His throat bobbed. 'And you are High Lady of the Night Court.' 'Indeed she is.”

“Sunlight still leaked in through the windows of the town house. The scent of citrus and the sea and baked bread still filled every room. And distantly... Children were still laughing in the streets. Home. Home was the same- home was untouched. I squeezed Rhys's hand so tightly I thought he'd complain, but he only squeezed tight back. And even thought we had all bathed, as we stood there... there was a grime to us. Like the blood hadn't entirely washed off. And I realised that home was indeed the same, but we... perhaps we were not.”

“Rhys pressed a kiss to my hair. 'You're home.' A shuddering, small sound came out of me as I nodded, squeezing him tighter. Home. Not just Velaris, but wherever he was, our family was. Ebony claws stroked along the barrier in my mind- in affection and request. I lowed my shields for him, just as his own dropped. His mind curled around mine, as surely as his body now held me. 'I missed you every moment, ' Rhys said, leaning down to kiss the corner of my mouth. 'Your smile.' His lips grazed over the shell of my ear and my back arched slightly. 'Your laugh.' He pressed a kiss to my neck, right beneath my ear, and I titled my head to give him access, biting down the urge to beg him to take more, to take faster as he murmured, 'Your scent.”

“You declared yourself High Lady.' 'Was I not supposed to?' He released my arm to brush his knuckles across my cheek. 'I've wanted to roar it from the rooftops of Velaris from the moment the priestess anointed you. How typical of you to upend my grand plans.' A smiled tugged on my lips. 'It happened less than an hour ago. I'm sure you could go crow from the chimney right now and everyone would give you credit for breaking the news.' His fingers threaded through my hair, tilting my face up. That wicked smile grew, and my toes curled in their boots. 'There's my darling Feyre.”

“Nesta only lifted her chin. 'I...' I'd never seen her stumble for words. 'I do not want to be remembered as a coward.' 'No one would say that,' I offered quietly. 'I would,' Nesta surveyed us all, her gaze jumping past Cassian. Not to slight him, but... avoid answering the look he was giving her. Approval- more. 'It was some distant thing,' she said. 'War. Battle. It... it's not anymore. I will help, if I can. If it means... telling them what happened.' ... 'You went off to battle for a court you barely know- who barely see you as friends. Amren showed me the blood ruby. And when I asked you why... you said because it was the right thing. People need help.' Her throat bobbed. 'No one is going to fight to save the humans beneath the wall. No one cares. But I do.' She toyed with a fold in her dress. 'I do.”

“Cassian stepped in Nesta's path when she tried to walk past him. Put a tan, callused hand on her forehead. She shook off the touch, but he gripped her wrist, forcing her to meet his stare. 'Any one of those human pricks makes a move to hurt you,' he breathed, 'and you kill them.' ... Cassian pressed one of his knives into Nesta's hand. 'Ash can kill you now,' he said with lethal quiet as she stared down at the blade. 'A scratch can make you queasy enough to be vulnerable. Remember where the exits are in every room, every fence and courtyard- mark them when you go in, and mark how many men are around you. Mark where Rhys and the others are. Don't forget that you're stronger and faster. Aim for the soft parts,' he added, folding her fingers around the hilt. 'And if someone gets you into a hold...' My sister said nothing as Cassian showed her the sensitive areas on a man. Not just the groin, but the inside of the foot, pinching the thigh, using her elbow like a weapon. When he finished, he stepped back, his hazel eyes churning with some emotion I couldn't place. Nesta surveyed the fine dagger in her hand. Then lifted her head to look at him. 'I told you to come to training,' Cassian said with a cocky grin, and strode off. I studied Nesta, the dagger, her quiet, still face. 'Don't even start,' she warned me, and headed for the stairs.”

“Shattered furniture; shredded bedding; clothes strewn about as if he'd gone looking for me inside the armoire. No one, it seemed, had been allowed in to clean. But it was the vines- the thorns- that had made it unliveable. My old bedroom had been overrun with them. They'd curved and slithered over the walls, entwined themselves amongst the debris. As if they'd crawled off the trellises beneath my windows, as if a hundred years had passed and not months. The bedroom was now a tomb.”

“Rhys kissed the top of my head, and we stared at the dying stars in silence. 'I'm grateful,' he said after a while, as the camp beneath us stirred in the building light. 'To have you at my side. I don't know if I ever told you that- how grateful I am to have you stand with me.' I blinked back the burning in my eyes and took his hand. I laid it over my heart, letting him feel its beating while I kissed him one final time, the last of the stars vanishing as the army below us awoke to do battle.”

“Amren smiled slightly- at me, at Varian. 'I watched them for so many eons. Humans- in my world, there were humans, too. And I watched them love, and hate- wage senseless war and find precious peace. Watched them build lives, build worlds. I was... I was never allowed such things. I had not been designed that way, had not been ordered to do so. So I watched. And that day I came here... it was the first selfish thing I had done. For a long, long while I thought it was punishment for disobeying my Father's orders, for wanting. I thought this world was some hell he'd locked me into for disobedience.' Amren swallowed. 'But I think...I wonder if my Father knew. If he saw how I watched them love and hate and build, and opened that rip in the world not as punishment... but as a gift.' Her eyes gleamed. 'For it has been a gift. This time- with you. With all of you. It has been a gift.”

“Amren,' Varian said, and sank onto his knees. 'I am begging you-' ... She looked to Varian, a wry smile on her red mouth. 'I watched them most- the humans who loved. I never understood it- how it happened. Why it happened.' She paused a step away from the Cauldron. 'I think I might have learned with you, though. Perhaps that was a last gift, too.' Varian's face twisted with anguish. But he made no further move to stop her.”

“Dying. I slid to my knees before it, sinking into the bloody moss. “Let me help you. I can heal you.” I’d do it the same way I’d helped Rhysand. Remove those arrows—and offer it my blood. I reached for the first one, but a dry, bony hand settled on my wrist. “Your magic …,” it rasped, “is spent. Do not … waste it.” “I can save you.” It only gripped my wrist. “I am already gone.” “What—what can I do?” The words turned thin—brittle. “Stay …,” it breathed. “Stay … until the end.” I took its hand in mine. “I’m sorry.” It was all I could think to say. I had done this—I had brought it here. “I knew,” it gasped, sensing my shift in thoughts. “The tracking … I knew of it.” “Then why come at all?” “You … were kind. You … fought your fear. You were … kind,” it said again. I began crying. “And you were kind to me,” I said, not brushing away the tears that fell onto its bloodied, tattered robe. “Thank you—for helping me. When no one else would.” A small smile on that lipless mouth. “Feyre Archeron.” A labored breath. “I told you—to stay with the High Lord. And you did.” Its warning to me that first time we’d met. “You—you meant Rhys.” All this time. All this time— “Stay with him … and live to see everything righted.” “Yes. I did—and it was.” “No—not yet. Stay with him.” “I will.” I always would. Its chest rose—then fell. “I don’t even know your name,” I whispered. The Suriel—it was a title, a name for its kind. That small smile again. “Does it matter, Cursebreaker?” “Yes.” Its eyes dimmed, but it did not tell me. It only said, “You should go now. Worse things—worse things are coming. The blood … draws them.” I squeezed its bony hand, the leathery skin growing colder. “I can stay a while longer.” I had killed enough animals to know when a body neared death. Soon, now—it would be a matter of breaths. “Feyre Archeron,” the Suriel said again, gazing at the leafy canopy, the sky peeking through it. A painful inhale. “A request.” I leaned close. “Anything.” Another rattling breath. “Leave this world … a better place than how you found it.” And as its chest rose and stopped altogether, as its breath escaped in one last sigh, I understood why the Suriel had come to help me, again and again. Not just for kindness … but because it was a dreamer. And it was the heart of a dreamer that had ceased beating inside that monstrous chest. Its sudden silence echoed into my own. I laid my head on its chest, on that now-silent vault of bone, and wept.”

“I'm sorry.' It was those two words that shattered me. Shattered me in a way I didn't know I could still be broken, a rending of every tether and leash. Stay with the High Lord. The Suriel's last warning. Stay... and live to see everything righted. A lie. A lie, as Rhys had lied to me. Stay with the High Lord. Stay. For there... the torn scraps of the mating bond. Floating on a phantom wind inside me. I grasped at them- tugged at them, as if he'd answer. Stay. Stay, stay, stay. I clung to those scraps and remnants, clawing at the voice that lurked beyond. Stay. I looked up at Tarquin, lip curling back from my teeth. Looked at Helion. And Thesan. And Beon and Kallias, Viviane weeping at his side. And I snarkled, 'Bring him back.' Blank faces. I screamed at them, 'BRING HIM BACK.' Nothing. 'You did it for me,' I said, breathing hard. 'Now do it for him.' 'You were human,' Helion said carefully. 'It is not the same-' 'I don't care. Do it.' When they didn't move, I rallied the dregs of my power, readying to rip into their minds and force them, not caring what rules or laws it broke. I wouldn't care, only if- Tarquin stepped forward. He slowly extended his hand toward me. 'For what he gave,' Tarquin said quietly. 'Today and for many years before.' And as the seed of light appeared in his palm... I began crying again. Watched it drop onto Rhys's bare throat and vanish onto the skin beneath, an echo of light flaring once. Helion stepped forward. That kernel of light in his hand flickered as it fell onto Rhys's skin. Then Kallias. And Thesan. Until only Beron stood there. Mor drew her sword and laid it on his throat. He jerked, having not seen her move. 'I do not mind making one more kill today,' she said. Beron gave her a withering glare, but shoved off the sword and strode forward. He practically chucked that fleck of light onto Rhys. I didn't care about that, either. I didn't know the spell, the power it came from. But I was High Lady. I held out my palm. Willing the spark of life to appear. Nothing happened. I took a steadying breath, remembering how it had looked. 'Tell me how,' I growled to no one. Thesan coughed and stepped forward. Explaining the core of power and on and on and I didn't care, but I listened, until- There. Small as a sunflower seed, it appeared in my palm. A bit of me- my life. I laid it gently on Rhys's blood-crusted throat. And I realised, just as he appeared, what was missing. Tamlin stood there, summoned by either the death of a fellow High Lord or one of the others around me. He was splattered in mud and gore, his new bandolier of knives mostly empty. He studied Rhys, lifeless before me. Studied all of us- the palms still out. There was no kindness on his face. No mercy. 'Please,' was all I said to him. Then Tamlin glanced between us- me and my mate. His face did not change. 'Please,' I wept. 'I will- I will give you anything-' Something shifted in his eyes at that. But not kindness. No emotion at all. I laid my head on Rhysand's chest, listening for any kind of heartbeat through that armour. 'Anything,' I breathed to no one in particular. 'Anything.' Steps scuffed on the rocky ground. I braced myself for another set of hands trying to pull me away, and dug my fingers in harder. The steps remained behind me for long enough that I looked. Tamlin stood there. Staring down at me. Those green eyes swimming with some emotion I couldn't place. 'Be happy, Feyre,' he said quietly. And dropped that final kernel of light onto Rhysand.”

“I had only silence in my head. Only silence, as I began screaming. Screaming and screaming and screaming. The emptiness in my chest, my soul at the lack of that bond, that life- I was shaking him, screaming his name and shaking him, and my body stopped being my body and just became this thing that held me and this lack of him, and I could not stop screaming and screaming-”

“When I was back at the Spring Court...' I swallowed. 'I looked- for their wings.' Rhys went utterly still, and I took his hand, squeezing hard as he only said, 'Did you find them?' The words were barely a brush of air. I shook my head, but said before the grief on his face could grow, 'I learned that he burned them- long ago.' Rhys said nothing for a lingering moment, his attention returning to the stars. 'Thank you for even thinking- for risking to look for them.' The only trace- the horrific remnants- of his mother and sister. 'I didn't... I'm glad he burned them,' Rhys admitted. 'I could happily kill him, for so many things, and yet...' He rubbed his chest. 'I'm glad he offered them that peace, at least.”

“I love you,' he said. And if I hadn't already believed him, felt it in my very bones, the light in his face as he said the words... Tears burned my eyes again, slipping free before I could control myself. Rhys leaned in to lick them away. One after another. As he'd once done Under the Mountain. 'You have a choice,' he murmured against my cheekbone. 'Either I lick every inch of you clean...' His hand grazed the tip of my breast, circling lazily. As if we had days and days to do this. 'Or you can get into the bath that should be ready by now.' I pulled away, lifting a brow. 'Are you suggesting that I smell?' Rhys smirked, and I could have sworn my core pounded in answer. 'Never. But...' His eyes darkened, the desire and amusement fading as he took in my clothes. 'There is blood on you. Yours and others'. I thought I'd be a good mate and offer you a bath before I ravish you wholly.”

“Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. He, too, wore his Illyrian armour, Elain's golden-brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulders. He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door. Elain peered up at his patient, solemn face. Azriel smiled faintly. 'Would you like me to show you the garden?' She seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them. But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded- just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn't tell if she was looking at his blue Siphons or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, 'Beautiful.' Colour bloomed high on Azriel's golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.”