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Sarah J. Maas

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“I've made my thoughts clear enough on what I want from you.' He'd never met someone able to imply so much in so few words, in placing so much emphasis on you as to make it an outright insult. Cassian clenched his jaw. And didn't bother to restrain himself when he said, 'I'm tired of playing these bullshit games.' She kept her chin high, the portrait of queenly arrogance. 'I'm not.' 'Well, everyone else is. Perhaps you can find it in yourself to try a little harder this year.' Those striking eyes slid toward him, and it was an effort to stand his ground. 'Try?' 'I know that's a foreign word to you.' Nesta stopped at the bottom of the street, right along the icy Sidra. 'Why should I have to try to do anything?' Her teeth flashed. 'I was dragged into this world of yours, this court.' 'Then go somewhere else.' Her mouth formed a tight line at the challenge. 'Perhaps I will.' But he knew there was no other place to go. Not when she had no money, no family beyond this territory. 'Be sure to write.' She launched into a walk again, keeping along the river's edge. Cassian followed, hating himself for it. 'You could at least come live at the House,' he began, and she whirled on him. 'Stop,' she snarled. He halted in his tracks, wings spreading slightly to balance him. 'Stop following me. Stop trying to haul me into your happy little circle. Stop doing all of it.' He knew a wounded animal when he saw one. Knew the teeth they could bare, the viciousness they displayed. But it couldn't keep him from saying, 'Your sisters love you. I can't for the live of me understand why, but they do. If you can't be bothered to try for my happy little circle's sake, then at least try for them.' A void seemed to enter those eyes. An endless, depthless void. She only said, 'Go home, Cassian.' He could count on one hand the number of times she'd used his name. Called him anything other than you or that one. She turned away- toward her apartment, her grimy part of the city. It was instinct to lunge for her free hand. Her gloved fingers scraped against his calluses, but he held firm. 'Talk to me, Nesta. Tell me-' She ripped her hand out of his grip. Stared him down. A mighty vengeful queen. He waited, panting, for the verbal lashing to begin. For her to shred him into ribbons. But Nesta only stared at him, her nose crinkling. Stared, then snorted- and walked away. As if he were nothing. As if he weren't worth her time. The effort. A low-born Illyrian bastard. This time, when she continued onward, Cassian didn't follow. He watched her until she was a shadow against the darkness- and then she vanished completely. He remained staring after her, that present in his hands. Cassian's fingertips dug into the soft wood of the small box. He was grateful the streets were empty when he hurled the box into the Sidra. Hurled it hard enough that the splash echoed off the buildings flanking the river, ice cracking from the impact. Ice instantly re-formed over the hole he'd blown over. As if it, and the present, had never been.”

“Accidents happen in the Rite, I'd only suggested when Cass's face had tightened with the news. We won't dishonour the Rite by tampering with it, was his only reply. Accidents happen in the skies all the time, then, Azriel had coolly countered. If the whelp wants to bust my balls, he can grow a pair himself and do it to my face, Cassian had growled, and that was that.”

“Azriel straightened a sagging section of garland over the windowsill. 'It's almost like you two tried to make it as ugly as possible.' Cassian clutched at his heart. 'We take offense to that.' Azriel sighed at the ceiling. 'Poor Az,' I said, pouring myself another glass. 'Wine will make you feel better.' He glared at me, then the bottle, then Cassian... and finally stormed across the room, took the bottle from my hand, and chugged the rest. Cassian grinned with delight. Mostly because Rhys drawled from the doorway, 'Well, at least now I know who's drinking all my good wine. Want another one, Az?' Azriel nearly spewed the wine into the fire, but made himself swallow and turn, red-faced, to Rhys. 'I would like to explain-' Rhys laughed, the rich sound bouncing off the carved oak moldings of the room. 'Five centuries, and you think I don't know that if my wine's gone, Cassian's usually behind it?' Cassian raised his glass in a salute. Rhys surveyed the room and chuckled. 'I can tell exactly which ones you two did, and which ones Azriel tried to fix before I got here.' Azriel was indeed now rubbing his temple. Rhys lifted a brow at me. 'I expected better from an artist.”

“What the hell is that?' Cassian was grinning that next evening as he waved a hand toward the pile of pine boughs dumped on the ornate red rug in the centre of the foyer. 'Solstice decorations. Straight from the market.' Snow clung to his broad shoulders and dark hair, and his tan cheeks were flushed with cold. 'You call that a decoration? He smirked. 'A heap of pine in the middle of the floor is Night Court tradition.' I crossed my arms. 'Funny.' 'I'm serious.' I glared, and he laughed. 'It's for the mantels, the banister, and whatever else, smartass. Want to help?' He shrugged off his heavy coat, revealing a black jacket and shirt beneath, and hung it in the hall closet. I remained where I was and tapped my foot. 'What?' he said, brows rising. It was rare to see Cassian in anything but his Illyrian leathers, but the clothes, while not as fine as anything Rhys or Mor usually favoured, suited him. 'Dumping a bunch of trees at my feet is really how you say hello these days? A little time in that Illyrian camp and you forget all your manners.' Cassian was on me in a second, hoisting me off the ground to twirl me until I was going to be sick. I beat at his chest, cursing at him. Cassian set me down at last. 'What did you get me for Solstice?' I smacked his arm. 'A heaping pile of shut the hell up.' He laughed again, and I winked at him. 'Hot cocoa or wine?' Cassian curved a wing around me, turning us toward the cellar door. 'How many good bottles does little Rhysie have left?”

“Do you know what an inconvenience it is to need to find a place to relieve myself everywhere I go?' A fizzing noise came from Cassian's side of the table, but I clamped my lips together. Mor gripped my knee beneath the table, her body shaking with the effort of keeping her laugh reined in. Rhys drawled to Amren. 'Shall we start building public toilets for you throughout Velaris, Amren?' 'I mean it, Rhysand,' Amren snapped. I didn't dare meet Mor's stare. Or Cassian's. One look and I'd completely dissolve. Amren waved a hand down at herself. 'I should have selected a male form. At least you can whip it out and go wherever you like without having to worry about spilling on-' Cassian lost it. Then Mor. Then me. And even Az, chuckling faintly. 'You really don't know how to pee?' Mor roared. 'After all this time?' Amren seethed. 'I've seen animals-' 'Tell me you know how a toilet works,' Cassian burst out, slapping a broad hand on the table. 'Tell me you know that much.' I clapped a hand over my mouth, as if it would push the laugh back in. Across the table, Rhys's eyes were brighter than stars, his mouth a quivering line as he tried and failed to remain serious. 'I know how to sit on a toilet,' Amren growled.”

“Emerie had drifted a few feet away, her back straight, chin upraised. He'd seen Nesta in this particular pose, too. He called it her I Will Slay My Enemies post. Cassian had named about two dozen poses for Nesta at this point. Ranging from I Will Eat Your Eyes for Breakfast to I Don't Want Cassian to Know I'm Reading Smut. The latter was his particular favourite.”

“You brought weapons to Solstice?' I asked, leaning against the door frame. ... Cassian shrugged, plopping onto the bed, which was better suited to a child than an Illyrian warrior. 'Some might be gifts.' 'And the rest?' Cassian toed off his boots and leaned against the headboard, folding his arms behind his head as his wings draped to the floor. 'The females bring their jewelry. I bring my weapons.' 'I know a few females in this house who might take offense to that.' Cassian offered me a wicked grin in response.”

“I believe everything happens for a reason. Whether it is decided by the Mother, or the Cauldron, or some sort of tapestry of Fate, I don't know. I don't really care. But I am grateful for it, whatever it is. Grateful that it brought you all into my life. If it hadn't... I might have become as awful as that prick we're going to face today. If I had not met an Illyrian warrior-in-training," he said to Cassian, "I would not have known the true depths of strength, of resilience, of honor and loyalty." Cassian's eyes gleamed bright. Rhys said to Azriel, "If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair." Azriel bowed his head in thanks. Mor was already crying when Rhys spoke to her. "If I had not met my cousin, I would neer have learned that light can be found in even the darkest of hells. That kidness can thrive even amongst cruelty." She wiped away her teas as she nodded. I waited for Amren to offer a retort. But she was only waiting. Rhys bowed his head to her. "If I had not met a tiny monster who hoards jewels more fiercely than a firedrake..." A quite laugh from all of us at that. Rhys smiled softly. "My own power would have consumed me long ago." Rhys squeezed my hand as he looked to me at last. "And if I had not met my mate..." His words failed him as silver lined his eyes. 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.”

“Lucien had been prepared to take me against my will. Fae males were territorial, dominant, arrogant—but the ones in the Spring Court … something had festered in their training. Because I knew—deep in my bones—that Cassian might push and test my limits, but the moment I said no, he’d back off. And I knew that if … that if I had been wasting away and Rhys had done nothing to stop it, Cassian or Azriel would have pulled me out. They would have taken me somewhere—wherever I needed to be—and dealt with Rhys later. But Rhys … Rhys would never have not seen what was happening to me; would never have been so misguided and arrogant and self-absorbed. He’d known what Ianthe was from the moment he met her. And he’d understood what it was like to be a prisoner, and helpless, and to struggle—every day—with the horrors of both.”

“Sadistic monsters,' Gwyn hissed as the three friends limped toward the water station, defeat heavy on their shoulders. 'We try again tomorrow,' Emerie swore, sporting a black eye thanks tot the swinging log that had knocked her on her ass before Nesta could grab her. 'We keep trying until we wipe that smug look off their stupid perfect faces. Indeed, Azriel and Cassian had just leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and smiled at them the entire time. Gwyn threw Azriel a withering stare as she strode past him. 'See you tomorrow, Shadowsinger,' she tossed over a shoulder. Az stared after her, brows high with amusement. When he turned back, Nesta grinned. 'You have no idea what you just started,' she said. Az angled his head, hazel eyes narrowing as Gwyn reached the archway. 'Remember how Gwyn was with the ribbon?' Nesta winked and clapped the shadowsinger on the shoulder. 'You're the new ribbon, Az.”

“I told you that the moment we started letting females into our group, they'd be nothing but trouble.' 'As far as I can recall, Cassian,' Rhys countered drily, 'you actually said you needed a reprieve from staring at our ugly faces, and that some ladies would add some much-needed prettiness for you to look at all day.' 'Pig,' Amren said. Cassian gave her a vulgar gesture that made Lucien choke on his green beans. 'I was a young Illyrian and didn't know better,' he said, then pointed his fork at Azriel. 'Don't try to blend into the shadows. You said the same thing.' 'He did not,' Mor said, and the shadows that Azriel had indeed been subtly weaving around himself vanished. 'Azriel had never once said anything that awful. Only you, Cassian. Only you.”

“Sadistic monsters,' Gwyn hissed as the three friends limped toward the water station, defeat heavy on their shoulders. 'We try again tomorrow,' Emerie swore, sporting a black eye thanks to the swinging log that had knocked her on her ass before Nesta could grab her. 'We keep trying until we wipe that smug look off their stupid perfect faces. Indeed, Azriel and Cassian had just leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and smiled at them the entire time. Gwyn threw Azriel a withering stare as she strode past him. 'See you tomorrow, Shadowsinger,' she tossed over a shoulder. Az stared after her, brows high with amusement. When he turned back, Nesta grinned. 'You have no idea what you just started,' she said. Az angled his head, hazel eyes narrowing as Gwyn reached the archway. 'Remember how Gwyn was with the ribbon?' Nesta winked and clapped the shadowsinger on the shoulder. 'You're the new ribbon, Az.”

“Four fucking days,' Cassian hissed from where he and Azriel monitored the castle. 'We've been sitting on our asses for four fucking days.' Azriel sharpened Truth-Teller. The black blade absorbed the dim sunlight trickling through the forest canopy above. 'It seems you've forgotten how much of spying is waiting for the right moment. People don't engage in their evil deeds when it's convenient to you.' Cassian rolled his eyes. 'I stopped spying because it bored me to death. I don't know how you put up with this all the time.' 'It suits me,' Azriel didn't halt his sharpening, though shadows gathered around his feet.”

“How many games had Cassian played as a child with Rhys an Azriel, where a long stick had been a stand-in for Gwydion? How many adventures had they imagined, sharing that mythical sword between them as they slew wyrms and rescued damsels? Never mind that Rhys's particular damsel had slain a wyrm herself and rescued him instead.”

“Steps scuffed down the hall. A warning. From someone who knew how to remain silent. ... Cassian had just finished setting himself to rights when Azriel strode in. 'Good evening,' his brother said with a grating level of calm, striding toward the table. 'Az.' Cassian wasn't able to keep the bite out of his tone. He met his brother's too-aware stare and silently conveyed every bit of annoyance he felt at his timing. Azriel only shrugged, surveying the food the House had brought him. As if he knew exactly what he'd interrupted and took his chaperone duties very seriously. Nesta was watching them, but as soon as Cassian turned to her, she launched into movement, pushing off the table and aiming for the door. 'Good night.' She didn't wait for him to respond before she was gone. Cassian levelled a glare at Az. 'Thanks for that.' 'I don't know what you're talking about,' Az said, even as he smiled down at his food. 'Asshole.' Az chuckled. 'Don't show your hand all at once, Cass.' 'What's that supposed to mean?' Az nodded toward the doorway. 'Save something for later.' 'Busybody.”

“Azriel nodded at her. 'What happened to you?' She knew what he meant: the black eye that was finally fading. Her hands and chin had healed, along with the bruising on her body, but the black eye had turned greenish. By tomorrow morning, it'd be gone entirely. 'Nothing,' she said without looking at Cassian. 'She fell down the stairs,' Cassian said, not looking at her, either. Azriel's silence was pointed before he asked, 'Did someone... push you?' 'Asshole,' Cassian growled. Nesta lifted her eyes from her plate enough to note the amusement in Azriel's gaze, even though no smile graced his sensuous mouth. Cassian went on, 'I told her earlier today: if she'd bother to train, she'd at least have bragging rights for the bruises.”

“Why aren't you training, Nesta?' 'I don't want to.' 'Why not?' Cassian muttered, 'Don't waste your breath, Az.' She glared at him. 'I'm not training in that miserable village.' Cassian glared right back. 'You've been given an order. You know the consequences. If you don't get off that fucking rock by the end of the week, what happens next is out of my hands.' 'So you'll tattle to your precious High Lord?' she crooned. 'Big, tough warrior needs oh-so-powerful Rhysand to fight his battles?' 'Don't you talk about Rhys with that tone,' Cassian snarled. 'Rhys is an asshole,' Nesta snapped. 'He is an arrogant, preening asshole.' Azriel sat back in his seat, eyes simmering with anger, but said nothing. 'That's bullshit,' Cassian spat, the Siphons on the backs of his hands burning like ruby flames. 'You know that's bullshit, Nesta.' 'I hate him,' she seethed. 'Good. He hates you, too,' Cassian shot back. 'Everyone fucking hates you. Is that what you want? Because congratulations, it's happened.' Azriel let out a long, long breath. Cassian's words pelted her, one after another. Hit her somewhere low and soft, and hit hard. Her fingers curled into claws, scraping along the table as she flung back at him, 'And I suppose now you'll tell me that you are the only person who doesn't hate me, and I'm supposed to feel something like gratitude, and agree with you?' 'Now I tell you I'm done.' The words rumbled between them. Nesta blinked, the only sign of her surprise. Azriel tensed, surprised as well. But she sliced into Cassian before he could go on. 'Does that mean you're done panting after me as well? Because what a relief that will be, to know you've finally taken the hint.' Cassian's muscled chest heaved, his throat working. 'You want to rip yourself apart, go right ahead. Implode all you like.' He stood, meal half-finished. 'The training was supposed to help you. Not punish you. I don't know why you don't fucking get that.' 'I told you: I'm not training in that miserable village.' 'Fine.' Cassian stalked out, his pounding steps fading down the hall. Alone with Azriel, Nesta bared her teeth at him. Azriel watched her with that cool quiet, keeping utterly still. Like he saw everything in her head. Her bruised heart. She couldn't bear it. So she stood, only two bites taken from her food, and left the room as well.”

“I went into her nightmare,' Rhys peered up at Cassian. 'Why didn't you tell me you attempted a scrying today?' 'It didn't work.' And Nesta's fear and guilt had been so heavy in the room that his chest had ached. He'd left her alone afterward knowing she'd want privacy. Rhys let out a shuddering breath. 'The scrying was a trip wire. For the memories. I caught that as I went in.' His throat worked, as if he'd heave, but he held it odnw. 'She was dreaming of the Cauldron. Of... of when she went in.' Cassian had never seen Rhys at such a loss for words. 'I saw it,' Rhys whispered. 'Felt it. Everything that happened within the Cauldron. Saw her take its power with her teeth and claws and rage. And I saw... felt... what it took from her.' Rhys rubbed his face and slowly straightened. He met Cassian's stare unflinchingly, his eyes full of remorse and agony. 'Her trauma is...' Rhys's throat bobbed. 'I know,' Cassian whispered. 'I guessed,' Rhys breathed, 'but it was different to feel it.' 'What is her power?' Azriel asked. 'Death,' Rhys whispered, hands trembling again as he got to his feet and aimed toward the window, which was now repairing itself shard by shard, as if a careful, patient hand worked upon it. He gazed at the female sleeping in the bed, and fear clouded the face of the High Lord of the Night Court. 'Pure death.”

“But then grey, watery light hit her. And the air- the air was heavy, full of slow-running water and mould and loamy earth. No wind moved around them; not even a breeze. Cassian whistled. 'Look at this hellhole.' Dropping Azriel's hand. Nesta did just that. Oorid stretched before them. She had never seen a place so dead. A place that made the still-human part of her recoil, whispering that it was wrong wrong wrong to be here. Azriel winced. The shadowsinger of the Night Court winced as the full brunt of Oorid's oppressive air and scent and stillness hit him. The three of them surveyed the wasteland. Even the Cauldron's water hadn't been so solidly black as the water here, as if it were made of ink. In the shallows mere feet away, where the water met the grass, not one blade was visible where the surface touched it. Dead trees, grey with age and weather, jutted like the broken lances of a thousand soldiers, some draped with curtains of moss. No leaves clung to their branches. Most of the branches had been cracked off, leaving jagged spears extending from the trunks. 'Not one insect,' Azriel observed. 'Not one bird.' Nesta strained to listen. Only silence answered. Empty of even a whistle of a breeze.”

“I want to train with him instead.' She could have sworn Cassian went still. Interesting. Azriel coughed into his tea. Cassian drummed his fingers on the table. 'I think you'll find that Az is even less forgiving that I am.' 'With that pretty face?' she crooned. 'I have a hard time believing that.' Azriel ducked his head, focusing on his food. 'You want to train with Az,' Cassian said tightly. 'then go ahead.' He appeared thoughtful for a moment, his eyes lighting before he added, 'Though I doubt that you'll survive a lesson with him, when you can't manage to walk down a hundred stairs without being so sore the next morning that you're unable to get out of your chair.”

“You're going to make me look like that?' His low laugh rippled over her body. 'No one can look like this but me, Nes.' Arrogant ass. 'Rhysand and Azriel do,' she said sweetly. 'I've got one or two muscles on them.' 'I don't see it.' He winked. 'Maybe they're in other places.' She couldn't help it. Couldn't stop it. Not the flash of desire, but the smile that overtook her face. She huffed a laugh. Cassian stared like he hadn't seen her before. His shock was enough that Nesta dropped her smile.”

“Cassian grinned and said to Azriel, 'We're going to be uncles.' Feyre groaned. 'Mother help this child.' Azriel's own grin bloomed at that, but Feyre's gaze slid to Nesta. Nesta said quietly to her sister, 'Congratulations.' For she'd said nothing, had only been able to stand and watch them all, their joy and closeness, as if she were looking in through a window. But Feyre offered her a tentative smile. 'Thank you. You'll be an aunt, you know.' 'Gods help this child indeed,' Cassian muttered, and Nesta glared at him.”

“Cassian angled his head. 'What happened before the disaster that was last night?' ... When Rhys didn't answer, Cassian said, 'Rhys.' Rhys didn't look at him as he whispered, 'The baby has wings.' Joy sparked through Cassian- even as the broken whisper and what those words meant made his blood go cold. 'You're sure?' 'We had an appointment with Madja this morning.' 'But he's only a quarter Illyrian.' It was possible, of course, for the baby to have inherited wings, but unlikely, given that Rhys himself had been born without them, and only conjured them through whatever strange unearthly magic he possessed. 'He is. But Feyre was in an Illyrian form when he was conceived.' 'That can make a difference? I thought she only made the wings- nothing else.' 'She shape-shifts. She transforms her entire self into the form she takes. When she grants herself wings, she essentially alters her body as its most intrinsic level. So she was fully Illyrian that night.' 'She doesn't have the wings now.' 'No, she shifted back before we knew.' 'So let her change back into an Illyrian to bear the babe.' Rhys's face was stark. 'Madja has put a ban on any more shape-shifting. She says that to alter Feyre's body in any way right now could put the baby at risk. On the chance that it could be bad for the baby. Feyre is forbidden to so much as change the colour of her hair until after the birth.' Cassian raked a hand through his hair. 'I see. But, Rhys- it'll be all right. It's not that bad.' Rhys snarled. 'It is bad. For so many gods-damned reasons, it is fucking bad.' Rhys was as close to being beside himself as Cassian had seen him since he'd returned from Amarantha's court. 'Breathe,' Cassian said calmly. Rhys's eyes simmered, the stars within them winked out. 'Fuck you.' 'Take a breath, Rhysand.' Cassian gestured to the window behind him, the lawn sloping down to the river. 'You want to go fight it out, I've got energy to burn.' The study doors opened, and Azriel walked in. From the grim expression etched on his face, he already knew. Azriel claimed the seat beside Cassian. 'Tell us what you need, Rhys.' 'Nothing. I need to not fall apart so my mate doesn't pick up a whiff of this when she comes home for lunch.' Rhys narrowed his eyes, and power rumbled in the room. 'No one says a word about this to Feyre. No one.' 'Didn't Madja warn her?' Azriel asked. 'Not strongly. She only mentioned an elevated risk during labour.' Rhys let out a harsh laugh. 'An elevated risk.”

“We both should go with you,' Rhys amended. 'But at least Azriel will be there.' 'Thanks for your confidence,' Cassian said wryly, and kissed Feyre's cheek. Rhys must have lowered her shield- for the moment. 'You two aren't even parents yet and your mother-henning has reached an unbearable level.' 'Mother-henning?' Feyre choked on a laugh. 'It's a word,' Cassian said, so casually that Nesta wondered if he comprehended the danger they were walking into. Nesta slid her gaze to Azriel, who shrugged subtly in confirmation. Yes, they were about to venture into a lethal, ancient bog. No, Cassian didn't seem as disturbed as the two of them were. Nesta scoffed, and Az offered her a slight smile They could be allies, that smile seemed to say. Against Cassian's utter insanity. She found herself answering Azriel with a slight smile of her own.”

“Who would bury their dead here?' 'They didn't put them in the earth,' Cassian said, his voice oddly muffled, as if that thick air gobbled up any echo. 'These were water burials.' Nesta said, 'I'd rather be burned to ashes and cast to the wind then be left here.' 'Noted,' Cassian said. 'This is an evil place,' Azriel whispered. True fear shone in the shadowsinger's hazel eyes.”

“Just don't go running after a beautiful white horse or a pretty-faced young man and you'll be fine.' 'And stay out of the water,' Azriel added solemnly. 'What if the Mask is in the water?' She gestured to the vast bog. They'd fly over it, they'd decided, and let her sense whatever lay here. 'Then Az and I will draw straws like the tough warriors we are and the loser goes in.' Azriel rolled his eyes, but chuckled. Cassian's grin at last glowed in his gaze as he opened his arms. 'Oorid's beauty awaits, my lady.”

“Where are you going? she demanded. 'There are two dozen soldiers there!' 'Autumn Court soldiers,' Cassian clarified, wings pumping so hard the wind ripped at her eyes. 'I don't know what the fuck they're doing here, or if Eris has royally fucked us over, but one of them shot an ash arrow through Az's wing.' 'Then why are we flying away?' 'Because I'm not landing with you in the middle of that.' 'Put me down!' she shouted. 'Put me down wherever and go back to him!' He didn't, surveying the bog below for the right place. She slammed a hand on his muscled chest. 'Cassian!' 'I know what each second costs me, Nesta,' he said quietly. 'Put me down in a fucking tree, then!' She pointed to one that they narrowly avoided. He spotted an area he deemed safe enough: a solid stretch of grassy land, the remnants of a tee rising from its midst. He set her in the tree, as she'd suggested, perching her on the highest, sturdiest branch. It groaned and swayed beneath their weight. 'Stay here,' he commanded, waiting until she'd wrapped her hands around the branch and was clinging like a child who'd climbed too high. 'I'll be back soon. Do not climb down. No matter what you may see or hear.' 'Go.' She was utterly useless in a fight, she knew. She would only distract him. 'Be careful,' he warned, as if he weren't the one about to head into danger, and then he was gone.”

“How did the kelpie snare you?' Nesta's scratched-up throat bobbed. 'I grew... nervous when you- both of you- didn't come back.' The silence in the room was palpable. 'I went to find you.' Cassian didn't dare say that he'd only been gone thirty minutes. Thirty minutes and she'd been in a panic like that? 'We wouldn't have left you,' he said carefully. 'I wasn't afraid of being left. I was afraid both of you were dead.' That she kept emphasising both of you tightened his chest. He knew what she was carefully avoiding saying. She'd been worried enough that she'd ventured into Oorid's perils for him.”

“Azriel asked, 'And Feyre still doesn't know?' 'No. She knows the birth will be difficult, but I haven't told her yet that it might very well claim her life.' Rhys spoke into their minds, as if he couldn't say it aloud, I haven't told her that the nightmares that now send me lurching from sleep aren't ones of the past, but of the future. Cassian squeezed Rhys's shoulder, 'Why won't you tell her.' Rhys's throat worked. 'Because I can't bring myself to give her that fear. To take away one bit of the joy in her eyes every time she puts a hand on her belly.' HIs voice shook. 'It is fucking eating me alive, this terror. I keep myself busy, but... there is no one to bargain with for her life, no amount of wealth to buy it, nothing that I can do to save her.”

“Rhys looked them each in the eye, even my sisters, his hand brushing the back of my own. 'Do you want the inspiring talk or the bleak one?' he asked. 'We want the real one,' Amren said. Rhys pushed his shoulders back, elegantly folding his wings behind him. 'I believe everything happens for a reason. Whether it is decided by the Mother, of the Cauldron, or some sort of tapestry of Fate, I don't know. I don't really care. But I am grateful for it, whatever it is. Grateful that it brought you all into my life. If it hadn't... I might have become as awful as the price we're going to face today. If I had not met an Illyrian warrior-in-training,' he said to Cassian, 'I would not have known the true depth of strength, of resilience, of honour and loyalty.' Cassian's eyes gleamed bright. Rhys said to Azriel, 'If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair.' Azriel bowed his head in thanks. Mor was already crying when Rhys spoke to her. 'If I had not met my cousin, I would never have learned that light can be found in even the darkest of hells. That kindness can thrive even amongst cruelty.' She wiped away her tears as she nodded. I waited for Amren to offer a retort. But she was only waiting. Rhys bowed his head to her. 'If I had not met a tiny monster who hoards jewels more fiercely than a firedrake...' A quiet laugh from all of us at that. Rhys smiled softly. 'My own power would have consumed me long ago.' Rhys squeezed my hand as he looked to me at last. 'And if I had not met my mate...' His words failed him as silver lined his eyes. 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. And then he said to my sisters, 'We have not known each other for long. But I have to believe that you were brought here, into our family, for a reason, too. And maybe today we'll find out why.' He surveyed them all again- and held out his hand to Cassian. Cassian took it, and held out his other for Mor. Then Mor extended her other to Azriel. Azriel to Amren. Amren to Nesta. Nesta to Elain. And Elain to me. Until we were all linked, all bound together. Rhys said, 'We will walk out onto that field and only accept Death when it comes to haul us away to the Otherworld. We will fight for life, for survival, for our futures. But if it is decided by that tapestry of Fate or the Cauldron or the Mother that we do not walk off that field today...' His chin lifted. 'The great joy and honour of my life has been to know you. To call you my family. And I am grateful- more than I can possibly say- that I was given this time with you all.' 'We are grateful, Rhysand,' Amren said quietly. 'More than you know.' Rhys gave her a small smile as the others murmured their agreement. He squeezed my hand again as he said, 'Then let's go make Hybern very ungrateful to have known us, too.”

“So he'd waited. Counted the minutes. It had been worth it. Seeing her claw her way onto the landing, panting, hair curling with the sweat sliding down her face- completely worth his generally shit day. Nesta was still sprawled on the hall floor when she hissed, 'Whoever designed those stairs was a monster.' 'Would you believe that Rhys, Az, and I had to climb up and down them as punishment when we were boys?' Her eyes shimmered with temper- good. Better than the vacant ice. 'Why?' 'Because we were young and stupid and testing boundaries with a High Lord who didn't understand practical jokes regarding public nudity.' He nodded toward the stairs. 'I got so dizzy on the hike down that I puked on Az. he then puked on Rhys, and Rhys puked all over himself. It was the height of summer, and by the time we made the trek back up, the heat was unbearable, we all reeked, and the scent of the vomit on the stairs had become horrific. We all puked again as we walked through it.' He could have sworn the corners of her mouth were trying to twitch upward. He didn't hold back his own grin at the memory. Even if they'd still had to hike back down and mop it all up.”

“How bad,' he asked, his voice hoarse. 'How bad was your injury,' Rhys said mildly, 'or how badly did we have our asses kicked?' Cassian blinked again. Slowly. As if whatever sedative he'd been given still held sway. 'To answer the second question,' Rhys went on, Mor and Azriel backing away a step or two as something sharpened in my mate's voice, 'we managed. Keir took heavy hits, but... we won. Barely. To answer the first...' Rhys bared his teeth. 'Don't you ever pull that kind of shit again.' The glaze wore off Cassian's eyes as he heard the challenge, the anger, and tried to sit up. He hissed, scowling down at the red, angry slice down his chest. 'Your guts were hanging out, you stupid prick,' Rhys snapped. 'Az held them in for you.' Indeed, the Shadowsinger's hands were caked in blood- Cassian's blood. And his face... cold with- anger. 'I'm a soldier,' Cassian said flatly. 'It's part of the job.' 'I gave you an order to wait,' Rhys growled. 'You ignored it.' I glanced to Mor, to Azriel- a silent question of whether we should remain. They were too busy watching Rhys and Cassian to notice. 'The line was breaking,' Cassian retorted. 'Your order was bullshit.' Rhys braced his hands on either side of Cassian's legs and snarled in his face, 'I am your High Lord. You don't get to disregard orders you don't like.' Cassian sat up this time, swearing at the pain lingering in his body. 'Don't you pull rank because you're pissed off-' 'You and your damned theatrics on the battlefield nearly got you killed.' And even as Rhys spat the words- that was panic, again, in his eyes. His voice. 'I'm not pissed. I'm furious.' 'So you're allowed to be mad about our choices to protect you- and we're not allowed to be furious with you for your self-sacrificing bullshit?' Rhys just stared at him. Cassian stared right back. 'You could have died,' was all Rhys said, his voice raw. 'So could you.' Another beat of silence- and in its wake, the anger shifted. Rhys said quietly, 'Even after Hybern... I can't stomach it.' Seeing him hurt. Any of us hurt. And the way Rhys spoke, the way Cassian leaned forward, wincing again, and gripped Rhys's shoulder.... I strode out of the tent. Left them to talk. Azriel and Mor followed behind me.”

“Rhys looked them each in the eye, even my sisters, his hand brushing the back of my own. 'Do you want the inspiring talk or the bleak one?' he asked. 'We want the real one,' Amren said. Rhys pushed his shoulders back, elegantly folding his wings behind him. 'I believe everything happens for a reason. Whether it is decided by the Mother, of the Cauldron, or some sort of tapestry of Fate, I don't know. I don't really care. But I am grateful for it, whatever it is. Grateful that it brought you all into my life. If it hadn't... I might have become as awful as the prick we're going to face today. If I had not met an Illyrian warrior-in-training,' he said to Cassian, 'I would not have known the true depth of strength, of resilience, of honour and loyalty.' Cassian's eyes gleamed bright. Rhys said to Azriel, 'If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make not the one you are born into, that matters. I would not have known what it is to truly hope, even when the world tells you to despair.' Azriel bowed his head in thanks.”

“Helion threw himself onto the couch across from Cassian and Mor. He'd ditched that radiant crown somewhere, but kept that gold armband of the upright serpent. 'It's been what- four centuries now, and you three still haven't accepted my offer.' Mor lolled her head to the side. 'I don't like to share, unfortunately.' 'You never know until you try,' Helion purred. The three of them in bed... with him? I must have been blinking like a fool because Rhys said to me, Helion favours both males and females. Usually together in his bed. And has been hounding after that trio for centuries. I considered- Helion's beauty and the others... Why the hell haven't they said yes?”