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Assistant to the Villain

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Hannah Nicole Maehrer

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“Meanwhile, Wren, maybe I can look at your leg.' 'No need,' I say, but he ignores me, rolling up the bottoms of my pants. There's blood, but it's truly not so bad. That doesn't stop him from asking for bandages and hot water. Since I left the mortal world, no one cared for my wounds but me. The gentleness of his touch makes me feel too much, and I have to turn my face, lest he see. ... Oak kneels by my feet. He had dipped one of the bandages in water and uses it to wipe off the blood and clean the cut. His fingers are warm as he wraps, and I try to concentrate on anything but the feel of his hands on my skin.”

“Are you all right?' he said as he scooped me into his arms to fly us to another location. I nestled into his warmth, savouring it. 'The fact that it was so easy, that I felt so little, upsets me more than the encounter itself.' Perhaps that had been my problem all along. Why I hadn't dared take that final step at Starfall. I was guilty that I didn't feel awful, not truly. Not for wanting him. A few mighty flaps had us soaring up through the trees and sailing low over the forest, rain slicing into my face. 'I knew things were bad,' Rhysand said with quiet rage, barely audible over the freezing bite of the wind and rain, 'but I thought Lucien, at least, would have stepped in.' 'I thought so, too,' I said, my voice smaller than I intended. He squeezed me gently, and I blinked at him through the rain. For once, his eyes were on me, not the landscape below. 'You look good with wings,' he said, and kissed my brow. Even the rain stopped feeling so cold.”

“Do you care?" I ask. "Do you care that I have no skirt?" "At the moment, Tori, no. It's in the airing cupboard. It's just a bit crinkled." "Yeah, I found it. It's supposed to be a pleated skirt, Mum. Currently, there are no pleats." "Tori. I'm really busy." "But I don't have a skirt to wear to school." "Wear your other skirt then, for Christ's sake!" "I literally just told you, it's too sma-" "Tori! I really don't care!" O stop talking. I look at her. I wonder if I'll end up like her. Not caring whether my daughter has a skirt to wear to school.”

“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.”