“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.” TraumaSarah J MaasRhysandRhysCassianNesta ArcheronNestaA Court Of Silver FlamesAzrielShaken Up Book:A Court of Silver Flames Source: A Court of Silver Flames