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“Rhys brushed a hand down my arm. 'You are, as always, free to go wherever and whenever you wish. But what I think Mor is saying is... try to leave a note the next time.' The words were casual, but that was panic in his eyes. Not- not the controlling fear Tamlin had once succumbed to, but... genuine terror of not knowing where I was, if I needed help. Just as I would want to know where he was, if he needed help, if he vanished when our enemies surrounded us. 'I'm sorry,' I said. To him, to the others. Mor didn't so much as look at me. 'You have nothing to be sorry for,' Rhys replied, hand sliding to cup my cheek. 'You decided to take things into your own hands, and got us valuable information in the process. But... ' His thumb stroked over my cheekbone. 'We have been lucky,' he breathed. 'Keeping a step ahead- keeping out of Hybern's claws. Even if today... today wasn't so fortunate on the battlefield. But the cynic in me wonders if our luck is about to expire. And I would rather it not end with you.' They all had to think me young and reckless. No, Rhys said through the bond, and I realised I'd left my shields open. Believe me, if you knew half of the shit Cassian and Mor have pulled you'd get why we don't. I just... Leave a note. Or tell me the next time. Would you have let me go if I had? I do not let you do anything. He tilted my face up, Mor and Azriel looking away. You are your own person, you make your own choices. But we are mates- I am yours, and you are mine. We do not let each other do things, as if we dictate the movements of each other. But... I might have insisted I go with you. More for my own mental well-being, just to know you were safe. You were occupied. A slash of a smile. If you were hell-bent on going into the Middle, I would have unoccupied myself from battle.” — Sarah J. Maas