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thespianbooks · 3 years

Text

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter Seventeen//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

...I’m sorry ^^;

Something wasn't right.

"It doesn't make sense," Cassian said; all of us gathered around the map laid out on the large table in the library. "I've rotated my most trusted legion across every single Illyrian camp since the summit, including the ones we know haven't sided with Kallon—just in case, and nothing."

Azriel shook his head, as equally astonished as Cassian was at the lack of intel they had been working tirelessly to achieve in the last couple of weeks.

"My spies haven't found anything either, on any front." He said, hazel eyes growing hard as they scanned over the maps and reports spread out before us.

Two months had officially passed since our summit meeting and our tenure of peace was now plagued by stress. In the months that passed, Cassian and Azriel worked together to keep a watchful eye on the traitors in our court—the latter keeping his network of spies focused on Keir and his Darkbringer army, while the former kept a strict watch on the rebellious Illyrian camp lords. As our second and third in command, Mor and Amren not only attended to their duties in Velaris, but also visited the Hewn City on mine and Rhys's behalf—a show of force and distraction while Azriel's spies lurked in the shadows. In the last few weeks, Rhys and I corresponded with the other High Lords and Eris, updating them on whatever intel we managed to gather, and them offering us any information they might have regarding the Autumn Court and promising to keep alert on their end.

But as of late, there was nothing. No movement whatsoever from Keir, Kallon, or Beron.

We initially received a report a couple of weeks following the summit that our steward had called for a stall in his plans, and because of that we assumed the trio were biding their time in order to regroup and organize new plans to strike before my due date—now a short twenty-odd weeks away, but it was taking them too long.

No, something definitely wasn't right, and we all knew it.

"Is it possible they're folding back on the coup?" Elain asked, amid the tense silence that had befallen us.

Nesta placed a hand on the back of her chair, standing just to her side with Cassian on the other. "Keir wouldn't just give up on killing Feyre, the High Lord, or their child," she said, as blunt as ever.

I grimaced and Mor threw her a disapproving stare, but Amren loosed a long-held breath through her nose.

"The girl is right. They aren't pulling back on their plans now, but they are plotting something." she said, turning her silver gaze to Rhys and me.

I sighed, an idle hand running along the line of my belly—a considerable size now that I was nearing the end of the second stage of pregnancy. The baby inside was mercifully calm in light of the topics we discussed, which I was thankful for since my other symptoms weren't; a dull headache creeping in at my temples since I awoke this morning, and my lower back muscles sore with my new weight.

I drummed my fingers on the tabletop, readjusting myself in the chair I sat in for the hundredth time since the start of our meeting. "Could Keir be plotting something on his own?" I asked as Rhys offered me a hand up, wanting to help mitigate some of the ache in my back and hips temporarily.

"It's possible," he answered as I took his hand, standing with a heavy sigh.

I kneaded a sore spot on my back as I turned to look at Cassian and Azriel—who were watching me with equal concern and glancing at my swollen stomach. "Your reports say that Kallon hasn't corresponded much lately with Keir?" I asked, addressing Azriel.

The shadowsinger cast a wary glance at my mate, something they had all begun doing recently anytime they had bad news to share—as if they were afraid the information would harm me or the baby. The only ones who didn't tip-toe around me were Amren and Nesta, and I was grateful for it. As increasingly uncomfortable as I was becoming the more my belly grew, my mood swings now tended to lean more and more towards irritation. The last thing I needed was everyone trying to handle me as if I were made of porcelain.

I sighed in frustration. "You don't need to coddle me, Az. None of you do. Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I can't handle reading reports or operating during the threat of a coup." I snapped, harsher than I meant to.

I felt Rhys rest a hand on the small of my back; knowing he gave the spymaster a curt nod of approval, and Azriel, Mother bless him, dipped his head in apology. "You're right. Most of the messengers sent between them with letters or verbal messages have come from Kallon but have gone ignored in the last few weeks."

"From what I've seen, the stupid sot has been feeling slighted by that bastard and he's called off sending those imploring letters to the camp lords who haven't yet sided with him." Cassian added, "He's waiting for Keir."

"Because he knows he needs them," Mor scoffed.

"The steward is definitely concocting something," Amren said coolly and motioned to my sisters.

"Tell them what you saw, girl," she said to Elain.

We all turned to her, Nesta going rigid at her side—nails digging into the wood of Elain's chair.

"You saw something?" I asked her.

She frowned as she nodded, scanning the other faces in the room. "I had a vision the other night, of Vassa. She's our ally so I didn't think much of it at first, but last night the vision came to me again and it was...different," she explained, her eyes beginning to go vacant as she recalled the details.

"What happened in the vision?" Azriel asked, trying to gently coax her back in the conversation.

Her eyes were still distant as she turned her attention to him, as if he grounded her during these moments. "I saw just her face at first, she looked distraught as she gave some kind of warning. I couldn't make out the exact words," she said, shame quivering her voice as she looked at her lap.

"That's okay, Elain." Azriel said, stepping closer to her side and to my surprise, Nesta didn't flinch. "What else?" he asked again.

Elain sighed shakily. "Then, last night...I saw her face again, giving the same warning, and then...a weeping firebird sweeping over land before setting fire to it."

My eyes went wide, turning to look at Rhys as we both recalled the connection her new vision had with the previous one from months ago. A great-winged animal sweeping over a grassy knoll. Only now we knew that animal was a firebird, one that Elain also warned us of during the war. We all must've had the same realization, because within seconds we exchanged worried glances. Silent conversations passing mind-to-mind between my mate and his brothers, as well as Mor and Amren.

"I'm sorry," Elain whispered, staring at her lap again. "For not saying anything sooner, I just assumed her warning was about the coup. I didn't get any other details until I saw it in my dreams."

"You didn't do anything wrong Elain," I said reassuringly. "We're all working with the information we have."

Rhys nodded. "Cassian and Azriel will go to the Mortal Lands and check in with Vassa, Jurian and Lucien. I'll send a letter ahead of them, and we can hope we get there before Keir does."

"You think Keir will move against the Mortal Lands?" Nesta asked, silent horror hidden behind those blue-grey eyes.

"He knows of the ties Lucien has with them. If he can take them down and sever whatever bond Lucien has with the Queen before they can ally with us against him, that's an advantage for him with the Autumn Court," Cassian explained.

"We need to monitor them as well," I added quickly. "In case Beron decides to work on Keir's behalf to sweeten the pot in whatever deal they've struck."

"I'll send my spies," Azriel said, nodding at me in acknowledgement.

"You'll both leave tomorrow," Rhys ordered them. His violet eyes were hardened, wings flaring slightly as they began detailing out new plans.

Go with them. I urged through the bond.

The hand that held my waist only tightened slightly. I can't leave you behind, Feyre, not with something like this brewing

I'll be safe with Mor and Amren here in Velaris.

I'm going to take you and your sisters to the Cabin until we get word back from Cassian and Azriel. Mor and Amren can guard Velaris

Or you can leave me and my sisters at the Cabin and meet up with Azriel and Cassian.

He gave me a weary look, but I squeezed his hand. The three of us will be safe there. No one outside our family knows of its location, and no one can winnow inside. We'll be taken care of until you three return, and you can keep me updated.

I saw the contemplation swirl in his violet eyes, knew that behind his adamant shields he saw the sense in my words but was still reluctant. His hand came to rest on my stomach carefully, earning a delightful kick from our son—who seemed to have awoken during our silent exchange.

I can't leave you. And even through the bond I could hear the strain in his voice.

I sighed, but before I could argue further, Cassian cleared his throat. "We'd be better suited if we had the High Lord at our side, since the High Lady is incapacitated at the moment."

Azriel nodded in agreement, "If there is a threat to the Mortal Lands, we'll need a more competent diplomat present to warn and ready them for the strike."

Rhys's gaze hardened again as he met his brothers urging stares. They knew as well as I did that my mate was on edge, his nerves only growing more unsettled in recent weeks, making him more protective of me and our child. He hardly left my side at all these past few months, so the opportunity to go out and perform his duties as High Lord would help alleviate the tension growing through our bond once again.

I squeezed his hand reassuringly, those hardened violet eyes growing softer as they met with mine. We'll be waiting here, safe, until you come back. Go warn our friends in the Mortal Lands, and then we can finally take care of Keir.

His eyes landed on my stomach once again before he loosed a breath through his nostrils and nodded in acknowledgement at his brothers.

XXX

"Do you think she's alright?" Elain asked.

Her quiet inquiry interrupted my stormy thoughts as I stared out the window of the sitting room. Only a couple of hours had passed since the Illyrian brothers carried us up to the safety of the cabin; Cassian holding Nesta, Azriel taking a flushed Elain, and Rhys hauling me and my swollen belly. I had made a sly comment about the burden of my new weight to Rhys in the hopes to ease his apprehensiveness and was glad when he smugly reassured me of his otherworldly strength with his trademark feline grin, before depositing me on the steps leading to the Cabin. My heart tugged at the memory of the two of us having escaped here only weeks before, but we all knew this was the safest place for me and my sisters at the moment. Mor and Amren remained in Velaris, as we had all agreed on, and moved to monitor the city from the House of Wind as an extra precautionary step.

I turned away from the window, having stared at the mountains surrounding us since Rhys kissed me and my belly goodbye. "Vassa is fierce, and well-guarded thanks to Lucien and Jurian," I reassured her.

"She's still got that curse," Nesta scoffed from her place on the loveseat across from where Elain sat.

Elain frowned and I glared at my eldest sister. "Yes, but thanks to the bargain father made for her temporary release, we've been able to extend it and she hasn't been forced into her firebird form in over a decade," I explained.

"But my visions haven't been wrong yet. What if she is forced into it?" Elain pressed.

I sighed and crossed over to where she sat, using the arm of the chair to help lower myself onto the plush seat—noting how cautiously Nesta eyed my movements. "We still don't know what your vision meant. Perhaps Vassa shifts into her firebird form in order to aid us in the coup?"

"She was weeping as she set the fire," Nesta interjected.

I sighed and pressed a hand against my temple, messaging it lightly in an attempt to relieve the stress beginning to build up. Elain leaned over to rest her hand over mine gently, "Let's talk about something else. You were right, Vassa is strong and we won't know anything until Rhysand, and the others return."

I nodded in agreement with a faint smile, moving my hand to rest on my stomach. "How have you been feeling? You've been so busy serving as High Lady that Nesta and I haven't seen you much lately," she asked.

Nesta interrupted before I had a chance to reassure her. "You need to allow yourself more time to rest. You're nearing the end stages of your pregnancy, and the strain of all of this isn't good for your youngling. Let that High Lord and assistant of yours take care of matters from now on," she scolded.

Elain and I balked at her, equally shocked that she was being so stern with me again. I had noticed fairly early in my pregnancy that Nesta was growing increasingly vigilant of me—concerning herself more with the welfare of the child I carried, and after what Cassian revealed to me weeks ago, I now understood why. Despite her brute facade, she cared about me and worried about the fate of my child; perhaps as any older sister would.

I swallowed the irrational tears and sob that built up in my throat, a reaction I now involuntarily had every so often, and sat up a little straighter. "It's not that simple," I reasoned. "I'm still High Lady and given the concerning reports and lack of intel we've obtained in the last couple weeks, I've had to work together with Rhys to reach out to the other courts and meet with the rest of the inner circle."

"They're all thinking the same thing, except maybe Amren. They want you to rest more and let them handle this situation," Nesta went on. "They're just too scared to hurt your feelings or upset you, or whatever idiotic reason it is, not to tell you."

"Oh, but you aren't afraid to do any of that, are you?" I asked a bit bitterly—beginning to second guess my earlier sentiments.

"I'm not, because I see the toll this pregnancy is having on you and unlike the others, I'm not afraid to bring it up and say what needs to be said." She argued, hands placed on her lap with striking elegance—even though her words were anything but.

I hardened my stare at her, our identical blue-grey eyes cold with contempt; hers out of unyielding concern, and mine out of...reluctant understanding. It was no secret that my pregnancy was difficult, increasingly so since the early stages. There were periods of time when I felt fine, energetic and able to accomplish multiple tasks in a day, but there were still days where the lingering nausea and fatigue left me in bed for hours at a time. That, accompanied by the new onslaught of pelvic pains, back aches, and my rush of hormones caused me to be frequently disgruntled. Rhys, being the overbearing mother-hen he always tended to be whenever I felt the least bit poorly, did his best to console me. The others did as well, to the point where I believed they were coddling me. It wasn't until now that I realized they only wanted me to remain at ease; knowing the risk of any stress on me or the baby could be dangerous. Madja had warned us of what complications could arise from that burden, and I knew now that they were all just trying to prevent it.

My gaze cracked as tears sprang back into my eyes and turned away as they burned. I took a few steadying breaths, Elain's hand coming to my shoulder to help soothe me as she slid closer to me on our shared seat. "I didn't try insisting I go with them to the Mortal Lands or anything. I'm letting them handle the situation, but as High Lady I need to oversee the operations."

"Yes, but you're burdening yourself with worry." Elain offered softly. "You've been taking on work that you could leave to your mate or the others."

"Like that meeting with Tamlin." Nesta reminded me and I frowned, remembering the toll that trip had taken on me at the time.

"Or insisting you attend all the meetings on the reports Cassian and Azriel have gathered. Rhys can attend to those and fill you in later," Elain added.

"The point is that you need to delegate more. You were off to a good start after the summit meeting, coming here with your mate and spending time with the others, but you've overloaded yourself far too much over the last couple of weeks." Nesta concluded.

I sighed, leaning back to rest against the plush seat and ran my hands over my protruding stomach, feeling my son beginning to stir from the occasional nap he took in the warmth and protection my womb offered. Every point they brought up was right; while we all had allowed ourselves a moment of peace following the summit, I had taken the anxiety of the recent reports Cassian and Azriel gathered and threw myself back into working to find a solution. Rhys had as well, but I knew there were times he wished I would retire to our room or at least sit when my aches and pains reared its ugly head.

"I know you two are right, it's just...difficult, at times. I am High Lady; my duty is to my court—alongside Rhys." I explained.

"But he isn't pregnant. You are, and your first duty is to the child you carry," Nesta insisted.

"The child who will be the heir to the Night Court," Elain said.

I nodded in understanding, but before I could agree with them, there was a frantic pounding at the door, followed by Mor's panicked voice behind it.

"Feyre, it's us. Let us in," she said.

Nesta was the first to stand and rather than take the hand I stuck out to help me up, she strode over to the cabin door, checked to make sure it was really Mor the voice belonged to and opened it. Elain helped me to my feet as Mor and Amren strode into the room with equal grim expressions. I noted both of their clothes were dirty, some scrapes and fresh cuts healing on their own that decorated their face and arms—my heart squeezed.

"What's wrong, what happened?" I asked, my voice sounding strangled.

Mor's brown eyes were broken as they met mine and she swallowed, "Vassa showed up on the front steps of the house, beaten and bruised, and crying...as she warned us to leave."

My heart nearly stopped, and I felt Elain go rigid beside me; her hand coming to cover her mouth in horror. "We tried to ask her what was wrong, and what happened back in the Mortal Lands to have brought her here now, but-" Mor began but stopped, her throat bobbing.

"She kept warning us to leave before anyone got hurt, before you got hurt, and her face went blank. She turned and transitioned to her firebird form, leaping to the skies...and began setting Velaris aflame," Amren finished bitterly.

I couldn't hold steady on my feet and I stumbled back into Elain's arms as my head began to spin—speechless. Velaris was on fire. Velaris, my home, was under attack again.

"Did you...is she...what…?" I couldn't even manage my thoughts as Elain held me upright.

Mor stepped forward and took hold of my arms, steadying me. "She disappeared after a few minutes, but not before setting many of the buildings along the Sidra on fire."

The Rainbow. Vassa had set the Rainbow of Velaris aflame.

"We sent word to Rhysand and the others but haven't heard anything back yet. I also sent word to Varian, perhaps Tarquin can help put out the flames," Amren said.

"W-What?" I asked breathlessly, my chest heaving. "The fires haven't been put out yet?!"

"It's spread quickly, we're doing our best, but without Cassian and Azriel to gather the Illyrian force…" Mor explained and our eyes met in mutual understanding.

I was the one they could turn to—rely on.

"Take me back," I ordered, still reeling. "I'll put out the flames myself. We can't wait for Tarquin or anyone else."

"Feyre, you can't use-" Nesta began but I snapped at her with a feral growl I hardly believed came from my own throat.

"This is my court. My home. I am High Lady and I demand you take me back now." I said, addressing them all.

Mor and Amren exchanged hesitant glances before the former spoke up. "I'd have to winnow you there Feyre, and you know the effect it has on you. You could faint and have to recuperate, there isn't enough time for that. Even if you could use your powers," she tried to reason.

"So we wait here and do nothing?!" I exclaimed, turning away from her hold on me and striding to the window.

I could see nothing from here, but as I closed my eyes the memories of the last attack flashed behind my lids. The screams of agony and despair as my people were attacked—ripped to shreds by the army of the Attor from Hybern. Nausea roiled in my gut as I reached down the bond.

Rhys. Where are you?

I was met with silence, and I could only guess what horrors my mate and his brothers were facing in the Mortal realm—for him to block me out. If Vassa had been here, who knew what threat had been made and who had orchestrated it all. My heart pounded as my power awakened inside of me, boiling in my veins and I tried not to tap into them as I felt the slight twinge of pain in my abdomen—until thoughts of Velaris kept invading my thoughts. The screams echoing in my head, trying to imagine those beautiful buildings now on fire. Thoughts of Ressina and our studio, of the children she was teaching, those innocents.

Everyone in Velaris was innocent, and they were on fire. I had to do something.

Dosomething.Dosomething.Dosomething

I couldn't hear whatever conversation was happening between my sisters, Mor, and Amren as I lingered by the window. All I could do was turn back to them, briefly meeting Mor's gaze before those brown eyes widened in realization. She opened her mouth to protest, but she was too late. In the blink of an eye, I became darkness—tapping into my power that had gone untouched for months, I winnowed onto the front courtyard of the estate that sat along the Sidra's edge. I stumbled forward on my hands and knees as my head spun, my ears roaring with the blood rushing to my head and it took every effort within me not to faint—to seize the darkness that threatened to overcome me and push it back.

My heart pounded, the pain thundering throughout my entire body, resounding excruciatingly in my head as I forced myself to stay conscious and I was finally able to raise my eyes to the nightmare before me. I saw the orange and red of the flames reflected in the river first, barely able to hear the screaming as I saw each and every building lining the Sidra ablaze. From my position in the courtyard, I could see the figures of citizens scrambling to put out the flames; could see the number of buildings extending backwards that were already lit. I sobbed as another painful twinge ripped through my abdomen, causing me to turn my head and vomit in the grass.

Sobbing again, I closed my eyes and felt my power simmering rather than boiling. Just enough to breathe it into my core as I raised a single hand in the air and slammed it back onto the ground with a lethal smack. Once again, as it had so many years ago, the Sidra rose in response and I summoned just enough strength to lean back onto my knees—raising both of my hands in the air above my head as I became the river. Shaking, I slowly stood, keeping my arms raised as a wall of water rose with me; expanding deep and wide before I walked forward.

Suddenly, it felt as if my abdomen was being ripped to shreds and I screamed, doubling over and sending that wall of water forward and over those buildings. I didn't have time to pray to the Mother, the Cauldron, anything in hopes that it had been enough to snuff out the flames before I was seized again with the pain that tore through my core. I gasped in breaths as I gripped my stomach with one hand and fell onto my knees—catching myself with the other.

No, no, no. Please…

I felt a trickle of liquid that quickly began to spread at the apex of my thighs and sobbed as I reached a hand under the band of my pants and touched my thigh. I screamed again as the agony ripped through my abdomen again and fell onto my side. I felt the darkness beginning to ebb around my vision, the pain going with it as I raised that shaky hand to my face. The last thing I saw before my world went entirely dark was bright red blood coating my fingers.

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thespianbooks · 3 years

Text

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 22//

Masterlist

Just in time for ACOSF’s release tomorrow! Enjoy chapter 22!

XXX

The entire estate was abuzz with activity in preparation for the encounter with Keir and his legion of rebels. As predicted, once Rhys and the other High Lords had lifted the wards from our armed forces, Kallon alerted the steward and frantically gathered the Illyrian numbers he rallied for his rebellion. We had all been surprised when Azriel's reports indicated that those numbers had dropped—not significantly, but enough to know that we now had an advantage over the Illyrians. Those who abandoned Kallon's Illyrian rebels appeared at neither camp, leaving Cassian to assume they were remaining indifferent to either side. Regardless, they would be dealt with after this ordeal.

Through this nightmare, my heart not only ached for my mate—for the pain he endured knowing it was his mother's people who sought to betray him, but for Cassian as well. He commanded those armies, fought at their side through two wars, trained in their camps and, in spite of their ire, sought their approval. Their losses were his as well, and he took the brunt of the blame onto himself, along with their distaste. From the beginning, I saw the pain that swirled behind those hazel eyes; knowing despite everything he did, how hard he tried, they saw him as nothing more than a bastard-born Illyrian and aspired to bring him and his brothers down.

In the two days it took for Keir and his Darkbringers to arrive at Ironcrest, amidst the frenzy that ensued at the estate while every High Lord present worked and met with us in order to prepare, I tried time and time again to find a moment alone with Cassian. I wasn't sure what I would say, how I would comfort him, but I at least wanted to offer him some kind of support. He had spent the last several months, the duration of my pregnancy, trying to set me at ease; promising an end to the coup and the rebel Illyrians, all the while his own inner turmoil caused him a great deal of pain that was long-stemmed. It was my turn now to offer him some peace in the hours leading up to a confrontation he previously hoped would never occur.

By the time I managed to find the general, I had thought he was alone in the library—only seeing his winged shadow outside the double doors, until I heard Nesta's voice mingling with his in a tense and hushed conversation. I had been too far away from the doors to hear their discussion, but based on how impassioned my sister's low voice sounded, I knew better than to interrupt. Ever since opening up to me about her loss and her time with Cassian in the mountains, Nesta again began to warm towards me. She still held onto that powerful veneer, but I was glad to see that she no longer used it to push me away. Instead, she surprised my mate and I by showing up in Rhys's office with Cassian just moments before our morning meeting. With Keir and Kallon officially together at the Ironcrest camp, this would be our last assembly before all the High Lords and our forces left.

"I'll be going to this encounter," Nesta said after we concluded the session. "Since my sister is unable to travel in her condition, I will be going in her stead; as a representative of the High Lady of the Night Court."

I stared at her in disbelief, shocked that she not only acknowledged my position, but that she was volunteering to face a potentially violent conflict—for me. Despite the healthier state of mind she was in a decade later, I knew the events that took place with Hybern were still raw for her; as they still were for me. Yet here she was now, offering to represent my position in our court. I glanced at Cassian, but judging by his arrogant smirk, he already knew of her plans. I briefly exchanged a look with Rhys, a small smile on his face, but his eyes conveyed a very simple response: it was up to me.

I paused as I turned to look at my sister. Her chin set and hands clasped formerly across her abdomen as her grey-blue eyes stared intensely at mine. "Are you sure?" I asked, unable to help but be a little hesitant.

She simply nodded, unyielding. "It isn't right. For me to sit idle, when I am capable. After what happened last time-" she paused, thinking back to the attack on Velaris—when we had been housed safely in the Cabin with Elain. "You have your health, your youngling, to worry about. As your eldest sister, I can do more. I can represent you and your position in this court."

My eyes burned as I dipped my head in approval. "Thank you, Nesta."

"Well this will be a welcome addition," Helion mused. "Given how the Illyrians quake in her presence."

"Perhaps some may drop their weapons at the very sight of her," Thesan added.

"That may be wishful thinking," Tarquin said, though he too acknowledged the unnerving demeanor my sister possessed.

We all did, and knew that her attendance would no doubt send a clear message in this coup. Her powers were still unknown to us, whether she knew of them or not—she never said, but the lethal aura about her remained as strongly as it had the day she'd been made.

"If no one else has anything to add, then I say it's time," Rhys said with a look at the other High Lords, their entourages, and then at me.

My eyes still burned as I met his, my heart pounding in my chest and I wondered if he could hear it—feel it, down the bond. When no one else spoke up, he cleared his throat. "I will take Feyre up to the Cabin and meet you all at the designated camp just outside of Ironcrest," he said.

"I'll meet you there with Viviane and Eira once they are ready, it shouldn't be long, and your shadowsinger has shared the coordinates of where I should winnow," Kallias added.

Azriel nodded at the High Lord of Winter before addressing us. "I will bring Elain at the same time the High Lord and Lady of Winter arrive," he said quietly.

"Thank you Azriel," I said, quickly swiping at a stray tear.

The emotion laced in my words was indication enough for everyone to leave and attend to any last minute preparations. They were gone in a matter of seconds, but I hardly noticed; unable to look away from Rhys's violet eyes. With the room cleared, he stepped closer, holding my face gently as he brushed away the tears that began to fall in earnest.

"I know I can't go, but," I sniffed. "I don't know how I'll be able to part with you, knowing the danger you face. I...I…"

Rhys pressed his brow against mine as I wept and held me closer. For days my hormones had left me anxious for the moment my mate would leave with the others and put an end to Keir and his betrayal; so, I allowed myself to give into those emotions and the tears that accompanied them. These precious seconds in my mate's arms were just what I needed in order to feel at ease—to let him go while I stayed behind with our unborn child. Once my crying subsided, I lifted my eyes to his again and pulled back just enough to now hold his face in my hands and stare into his sparkling violet eyes.

"Don't let him get a rise out of you. You are a warrior, and warriors know when to pick their fights," I began, reiterating the very words he said to me during the war with Hybern. "Their crimes won't go unpunished. You are the High Lord of the Night Court, night triumphant. You go there, put an end to this treachery, and come back to me—to us, alive." I said fiercely, my voice quavering as our breaths mingled.

Rhysand's answering grin was slow as he nodded his head. "I swear it, High Lady," he said before pulling me into a deep kiss.

XXX

Even with my mate's promise, I couldn't help pacing about the living area of the Cabin once he, Kallias, and Azriel left. Elain and Viviane eyed me warily as I moved, Eira peacefully sleeping in a small cradle Viviane had brought along and placed just beside the leather sofa.

"Feyre, why don't you come rest?" Viviane urged as she stood, crossing over to where I had stopped pacing and began rubbing a sore spot on my lower back.

I shook my head. "I can't sit still," I said as my only reply.

It was true. The uncertainty of the events unfolding at this very moment left me restless. Until I knew Rhysand, our allies, and my friends and family were safe, I would remain on edge.

Viviane touched my shoulder gently. "You do know that walking around so vigorously can stimulate the body into going into early labor? If you keep pacing around here like this, you might very well give birth before the others return," she gave me a wry smile when I hesitated. "We don't want that now do we?"

I sighed in defeat and allowed her to help me back to the sofa, helping me lower myself onto the seat slowly.

Elain popped up just as I sat with a grunt, "I'll make us some tea!" However, just as she said that, a freshly brewed pot appeared on the table before us—along with three tea cups. She laughed nervously, remembering the magic that existed here, before going to pour us each a cup.

"I know it's hard not to worry, believe me," Viviane said as she sat beside me. "But think of it this way: this issue will finally be resolved."

I sighed in irritation. "That's all anyone has been telling me for days, what I've been telling myself," I snapped back, but immediately regretted it.

For her part, Viviane smiled in understanding-all too familiar with the quick shifts in mood that pregnancy caused.

"I just hate feeling like some kind of damsel in distress," I admitted.

"You are anything but, Feyre," Elain said as she handed me a cup.

She's right, my love

I nearly startled at the sound of Rhys's voice through the bond. Is it over? I asked in return.

His dark chuckle made me shiver. Unfortunately, we haven't started yet. We're on the front lines, waiting for Keir and Kallon to arrive

I gulped and knew this time he could feel my heart racing. I thought you might want to see things firsthand, rather than have me fill you in later

Through the bond, I felt his offering hand, dark talons beckoning me as I took it. His black adamant shields yielded to me, and a second later I was looking through my mate's eyes. From his peripheral vision, I could see Nesta standing immediately to his left while Mor and Amren stood at either side of them—Azriel and Cassian flanking them. Based on all our meetings, I knew the other High Lords, excluding Eris, were lined up just behind them. In spite of the crisp air in the Illyrian mountains, I could feel the sun on my mates' skin, could see it reflecting off his Illyrian leathers. Unlike my galloping heart, Rhys's was steady and calm; even as his sharp eyes picked up movement in the distance.

Slowly, arrogantly, Keir walked with Kallon and the commander of his Darkbringer army on either side of him. His hands were neatly folded behind his back, as they often were whenever we saw him at the Hewn City, his chin lifted proudly. Kallon at least had the sense to look a little intimidated at the sight of the three most powerful Illyrians in history on the opposite side of the battlefield; that intimidation probably coming not only from his lack of experience, but from his unexpected lack of numbers with the Illyrians. As he approached, I could see their soldiers following at a distance, but as the trio got closer, the troops stopped.

I could feel Rhys's muscles tense, wings flaring slightly at the steward's outright arrogance as he approached with a smug grin. I noticed Mor's own muscles go rigid, Amren and Nesta remained the picture of menacing ease, their cool facade's masking any rage they might've been feeling. Finally, with only a few dozen paces between them, Keir stopped in his tracks—meeting my mate face-to-face.

"Rhysand," the older male said by way of greeting.

I heard Mor growl from beside Rhys. "My lord," she corrected.

Keir didn't acknowledge her, his dark gaze penetrating as they stayed on mine—on Rhysand's.

"You forget yourself, Keir," he replied coolly, ever the embodiment of casual grace, even in the face of such blatant disrespect and deceit. "Since when do you address your High Lord by first name, and so casually too?"

The male seemed to ignore Rhys's words altogether, simply casting a glance over my mate's shoulder at the other High Lords aligned behind him—their forces also staged at an interval behind them.

"I see you've rallied this bunch. How you all actually managed to become friends after Hybern is truly a surprise to me," Keir scoffed, his disdain echoing for the word 'friends' in particular.

"Especially with that one," he motioned to Tamlin standing beside Tarquin at the far-right of the line.

I could feel Rhys's patience wavering, his dark powers seeping into his shadows and making them stir lightly. I ran my delicate fingertips along his shields to calm him, sending him another reminder: You are Night Triumphant. He is nothing.

"You openly plot against me, my mate, my crown, by rallying your army and joining with rebellious Illyrians in order to...what? Overthrow me? Kill me and take my throne as your own?" Rhys asked, his rage still in check for now.

"I've only come to take back what has rightfully belonged to my bloodline for centuries, before that ancestor of yours came along and claimed the seat of the High Lord for himself," Keir replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "It was one thing for your father to rule as High Lord, but to allow a half-breed disgrace to sully the throne? I have been complacent for far too long, especially now with that mate of yours carrying an abomination of such obscure proportions."

I felt Rhys hold back a growl, every ounce in his body wanting to retaliate for the threat against his mate, against me and our unborn child. Instead, he appeared outwardly unfazed. "You mean to demean my position by pointing out that I am half Illyrian, and yet here you are, allied with them," he said casually, his mask remaining the picture of ease.

"The Illyrians don't want a half-breed High Lord anymore than Keir and his lot do," Kallon spoke up. His voice was strong, but young, attesting to the inexperienced warrior that he was.

"You can come back once you've been around and bled for a few centuries, boy," Cassian retorted, all seven siphons flickering. "In the meantime, you're too wet behind the ears to speak on behalf of the Illyrians."

Keir shot Kallon a warning glance that silenced him. Turning back to Rhys, Keir straightened his shoulders, but before he could answer with some clever reply, Rhys cut him off with a laugh. A dark, whole-bodied guffaw that I had never heard come from him before. It was unscrupulous and dripped with condescension. I didn't have to see the rest of our party to feel the mood shift.

"Am I meant to be intimidated? You have your army of Darkbringers, who are assuredly substantial in numbers and skill, but yet ally yourself with the self-appointed leader of mutinous Illyrians, while said leader has only lived a couple of decades and has never seen the true course of battle," Rhys shook his head with another dark chuckle. "Perhaps the centuries haven't fared so well for you after all, it seems old age has made you lose all sense of reality"

The older male narrowed his gaze, darkened eyes igniting with contempt. "You think me a fool, Rhysand? That I wouldn't find a suitable ally outside these winged brutes?" Kallon's stare was seditious, but Keir ignored him and finally met Mor's gaze. "Perhaps, daughter, you would be glad to see another familiar face?"

Mor only raised an unamused brow at him, the sound of approaching footsteps coming from behind the group. Through my mate's eyes I saw Keir's widen as Eris stepped in line beside Tamlin; with the other High Lord's of Prythian he scoffed at only minutes before.

"Sorry about my pretty lies, Keir, but it was just too easy tricking another old male out of his sense of entitlement," Eris remarked, and though I couldn't see him, I could hear the hubris in his voice as he addressed the steward.

The male fumed at Eris's words, refusing to meet Rhysand's gaze as my mate took a step forward. "Surrender now, Keir. It's time to wake up and realize just how futile your efforts have been," Rhys said, the commanding voice of the most powerful High Lord in Prythian returning.

Of course, Keir continued to seethe as he returned a detestable look at Mor before finally facing Rhys again. He took a couple of steps forward, nostrils flaring as he spat, "You think I will yield so easily? I will correct the mistake I made centuries ago with you and murder that monstrosity your mate will bear in its cradle."

As soon as that last word came out of his mouth, everything seemed to move slowly. Blinding, white-hot rage exploded within my mate, but before he could even react, it was Mor that winnowed from his side in a split second to her father. She winnowed in behind him, an Illyrian dagger in hand, and stabbed him straight through the throat—blood splattering on her face as Keir's eyes widened again. He seemed to try and speak before Mor twisted the blade, pushing it further into his flesh. A wet, strangled sound came out of Keir's mouth as it filled with blood, Mor then kicked the back of his legs and sent him to his knees. I saw her mutter something into his ear, but couldn't hear the exact words before his body dropped to the ground in front of her.

As blood pooled from his throat, Mor stood over his body and didn't look up when Kallon shot to the skies, yelling orders to their Illyrian forces; the Darkbringer commander turning and shouting similar orders before drawing a blade aimed at Mor, who in her adrenaline-filled rage quickly pulled out her own and stabbed him through the gut. The last thing I heard was Cassian's own shouts before Rhys pushed me from his mind, sending me back to the Cabin without warning.

I gasped as though I had been holding my breath throughout the entire ordeal, grasping at my chest and stomach simultaneously as I heaved for breaths. Viviane and Elain were already at my side, but I couldn't make out anything they were saying to me as my mind raced from what I had just witnessed. Of the blood that seeped into the grass, of the gurgling sounds Keir made as he lay dying, the sounds of blades being drawn, and orders being yelled. I squeezed my eyes shut as the images kept flashing through my vision, breathing becoming nearly unattainable as I tried to desperately fight them away; reprising memories of my mate lying dead on the ground after the last war beginning to flash along with the others.

No no no no no no no

I couldn't lose him; I couldn't lose any of them.

Rhysand.Rhysand.Rhysand!

Suddenly, I felt a gentle glimmer at my core, followed by the movement of my son stretching inside of me. That glimmer seemed to warm me from the inside out as my panic slowly ebbed away, Viviane and Elain's voices finally coming through.

"Feyre? Can you hear me?" It was Viviane, and I realized then that her hands held my shoulders gently.

I opened my eyes gradually and met with her piercing and concerned blue eyes. My breaths finally regulated as she guided me back into a normal breathing cycle, knowing that I could at last hear her words. I realized then that I was clutching my belly and looked down at it as I felt my son move again. I loosed another slow breath and caressed it instead, closing my eyes as tears slipped down my cheeks.

"Oh Feyre," Elain whispered as she sat beside me, wrapping her arms around me carefully.

I leaned into her embrace, silently crying as I began to relax—this abating moment contrasting with the one I had with Rhys. Viviane rubbed my shoulder gently, and they both waited patiently for me to calm.

"I was there," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "I saw what happened, through Rhysand's eyes."

Viviane frowned, "Are they all right?" She asked.

I paused. "I saw Keir die. Mor stabbed him in the throat, and then they were all shouting. Just as the fighting was about to begin, he sent me back." I said, meeting her worried gaze apologetically.

I felt Elain go rigid as I explained how Keir had been killed, no doubt recalling the gruesome details of how she had done the same with the King of Hybern. I pulled back from her arms slowly, sitting upright with a weary sigh before I went into a full detailed account of everything I had seen—that had been said and done. By the end of it, Viviane's concern seemed to marginalize.

"They'll be all right," she said. "Keir and Kallon were vastly outnumbered, so the fighting won't last for much longer. They'll have no choice but to surrender."

I nodded, though a kernel of doubt still lingered. I looked down at my stomach again, rubbing the expanse of it as my son continued to stretch and kick at his leisure. The glimmering reminder that was him had brought me back to reality, from the edge of my panic. I closed my eyes as I felt him move, feeling another flutter in response as I continued to stroke my belly.

Thank you, baby.

XXX

Hours passed and there was still no word from the others. I tried reaching down the bond on a few occasions, only to be met with my mate's impenetrable black adamant. As time went on, Eira was a welcome distraction. She awoke from her nap in good spirits, cooing and smiling at Viviane and Elain as they fussed over her. I watched from my seat with a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes as I idly brushed my fingers along my stomach, thoughts still on my mate and the others as I wondered what held them for so long.

There was no doubt our numbers outweighed theirs; so, while we had hoped fighting wouldn't ensue, now that it had, it should've been settled quickly—a slaughter. I did my best to focus on Eira, picturing what my own future with Sebastian would be in a few short months, but every few minutes or so my thoughts returned to Rhysand and the others. I thought of Mor and how aptly she took out her father and his commander, what possible ramifications would come from her impulses, though I couldn't blame her for it. I wondered if Nesta and Amren had been able to keep a safe distance once the fighting began; if Azriel or Cassian would be hurt while taking down their own kind, though I knew the latter would feel more of a burden than the former.

Finally, a knock came at the door before it opened, Rhys striding inside with Azriel and Kallias following closely behind.

"Oh, thank the Cauldron!" Viviane exclaimed, gathering Eira to her breast as she quickly stood.

Kallias had his daughter and mate wrapped in his arms only seconds later, but I was too distracted with my own overwhelming relief as I saw my mate. I choked on a sob as those star-flecked violet eyes met mine, and as I struggled to push myself upright, Rhysand quickly pulled me into an embrace as he dropped to his knees before me. I slid forward, meeting his knees with mine as I landed on the ground, kissing his face and brushing back the loose strands of his hair as he did the same.

Tell me you're alright. I pleaded

I am, Feyre. Everything's alright

Though the three of them were dirty and bloodied, their faces showing the exhaustion of battle, they were here in one piece. They were alive and safe.

Rhysand's hands held my stomach gently as our brows touched, his eyes lined with silver as he stroked it gently, solace washing over him as well.

Is he...?

He's fine, we both are.

His shoulders went slack as one hand held my hip firmly. "The others…?" I asked aloud, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Fine," he said as he pressed a kiss to my brow and pulled away from me.

He helped me back onto the sofa as we faced the others. Kallias had an arm slid behind Viviane's back, and from the corner of my eye I saw Elain quickly pull her hands away from Azriel's when Rhys rose to his feet. There were still tears welled in her eyes, and I saw the shadowsinger curl his scarred fists closed once Elain's delicate ones left his touch.

"The bastards managed to hold their own for a while, but with hardly any leadership in the wake of Keir's death, we had them overrun after an hour or so," Rhys explained to us.

"Kallon's novice knowledge as a warrior showed. He stood no chance against Cassian's direction and tactics," Azriel added.

"Is he dead too?" I asked.

"Not yet. Cassian got a hold of him and knocked him unconscious. Probably would've killed him, if Rhysand hadn't insisted they take him prisoner," Kallias answered.

A quick nod at Azriel, "We have plans for him and the other camp lords that went against us." Rhys said.

"But Keir is dead? Mor killed him?" Viviane asked.

"Yes, him and about a dozen other Darkbringers. Outside of that, there weren't many casualties," Kallias replied.

"We spent the rest of the time rounding up the rest of their army as they surrendered, stationing prisoner camps that Cassian, Azriel and Devlon will oversee as we plan our next steps," Rhys went on. "As for the Darkbringers, Mor and Amren are taking them back to the Hewn City."

I gulped as I recalled Mor's rage and thought of how she would handle the army of traitors her father raised. I sighed shakily and motioned for Rhys as my relief was replaced by a wave of nausea. Taking note of my illness, he helped me to my feet without another word and I quickly crossed over to the nearest bathing room—making it to the toilet just in time as I vomited. I could barely hear the sound of the voices talking in the other room over the sound of my retching, but only a minute later Rhys entered the bathing room with me, holding my hair and rubbing my back until the nausea passed.

Resting my back against the hard planes of his chest, I closed my eyes as he flushed away the mess and summoned a cool washcloth to place on my forehead. He then lifted me in his arms easily, carrying me down the hallway and towards the small bedroom.

"They left?" I asked after I noticed how quiet it was.

Rhys nodded as he sat me on the bed, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Feel better?" he asked.

I sighed heavily with a slight nod, removing the damp cloth from my head. "Yes...I think everything just hit me," I said tiredly, truly feeling the weight of it all lifting.

Is Mor okay?

"She's been waiting for that moment for centuries. Today she finally had enough," Rhys replied aloud—exhaustion as clear in his voice as it was in his eyes.

I nodded in acknowledgment and squeezed his hand, taking note of the blood that still coated his fingers. "It's over…" I whispered.

Rhys squeezed my hand back, the bed giving way as he sat beside me. "Yes, it is."

"There's still so much to do," I said, mind beginning to race.

"There is," he confirmed, a strong hand returning to the apex of my belly. "But we still have time before he comes."

My eyes stung as my sense of relief returned and I let out a wet laugh as he stroked my stomach. "He'll be safe," I said with a quiet sob.

His eyes stayed on my stomach, those beautiful eyes going distant. "He would have never been in danger if I wasn't the male that I am. If you hadn't accepted our bond, or married me, then-"

"I wouldn't be here right now if you weren't the male you are, Rhysand. He wouldn't exist without you, and I...I wouldn't either," I interrupted as I took his face in my hands again, forcing him to meet my fierce gaze.

Those violet eyes shattered at my words and a second later his arms were wrapped around me once again, pulling me onto his lap as I enveloped my arms around him in return and held him just as closely. I shook with a sob as I buried my face in his hair as his lips brushed against my neck and breathed in my scent. With this burden lifted from both of our shoulders, we no longer had to pretend to enjoy whatever short-lived peace we had been afforded during this ordeal. We now had a peace that had the potential to last for a great deal longer; a peace that our son would be born into and thrive.

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thespianbooks · 3 years

Text

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 18//

Masterlist

“Only you can decide what breaks you.”--ACOWAR

XXX

A myriad of voices and faces faded in and out of darkness—surrounding me as I fought desperately to make sense of it all. Excruciating spasms ebbed in and out, leaving me unable to focus long enough to figure out where the pain was coming from. Perhaps it was all over my body, but during a particularly brutal wave; when I could hear myself crying out, I knew it came from my core. I saw Rhysand's face in the midst of my agony, his violet eyes like shattered glass and lined with silver—glimmering starlight falling down his face. It was so beautiful, but it seemed the night itself was weighing me down and I couldn't ask what caused him so much despair.

Twilight continued to envelope me, and I couldn't discern it from anything else. From the moment it took hold, it felt as if I were floating—images of concerned faces flashing across my vision every so often as my abdomen continued to throb. I knew those faces, knew their voices, but couldn't recognize anyone but my mate. He was my tether among the stars I drifted along in, until my world went dark once again.

XXX

Sunlight peeked through half-closed curtains—my curtains, I realized, as I made out the details of my bedroom. I blinked slowly as I looked around the familiar settings, my breath hitching in my throat as images of blood and pain came surging back to memory.

You're all right Feyre, it's okay

I turned at the sound of Rhys's voice, even through the bond, as he moved from the chair at my bedside to sit beside me. He looked like hell; his hair a disheveled mess with dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes, face still stained from those beautiful tears I remembered. My eyes went wide as I recalled where the pain had stemmed from and my hands flew to my stomach, gripping the fabric of my dressing gown.

"He's okay," Rhys breathed. His hand held mine, both of ours holding my stomach.

I was still pregnant. My son was alive.

I felt that all too familiar glimmer, my eyes slipping shut in relief as I sobbed. I gripped my stomach with both hands and sobbed again as I felt him move. Rhys bent down to press a kiss to my forehead before pressing his against it gently. He held my face as I cried, relieved, and I moved my hands to grip his shoulders as they shook lightly—his own tears mixing with mine as we held each other.

I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, Rhys. I said down the bond, prepared to plead for forgiveness.

"Don't apologize Feyre. You have nothing to be sorry for," he said as he pulled back just enough for our eyes to meet.

"I put him at risk," I whispered as I stifled another sob in my throat. "I-I used my powers, and not even five minutes later I started cramping. I-I shouldn't have-" I sobbed again, and he shook his head, brushing the tears from my cheeks.

"You acted as High Lady. You did what you had to do for our city while I was away," he said, but I could hear the same anger that I held against myself laced in his voice. It was subtle, but it was there.

I opened my mouth to argue, but there was a gentle knock at the door followed by the voice of our healer. "It's me, my lord. I've felt the High Lady wake and need to reevaluate her current state."

Rhys pressed another kiss to my brow and straightened, waving a hand to unlock the door; allowing Madja to let herself in. The dark-skinned female smiled warmly at me as she approached my bedside.

"How are you feeling, lady?" She asked.

I sniffed and did a quick evaluation of myself. I was sore and weary—my usual fatigue exemplified by whatever my body had just been through. "Tired...and aching, but no pain." I answered, deciding that honesty would be my best course of action. I wouldn't take a chance on my son's safety again.

She nodded in understanding. "That's to be expected. You've been through a tremendous few days," she said.

My eyes widened. "It's been days?"

"Just two. You were out after the initial attack, which took place in the afternoon. You slept all day yesterday after Madja healed you," Rhys explained, taking my hand and squeezing it reassuringly—though I could hear the lingering ache in his voice.

"I was able to put you in a trance of sorts, while you healed, in order to allow your body the ample time it needed to recover before you regained consciousness," Madja said, her tone growing serious as she met my gaze.

"However, my lady, the extraordinary use of your powers that day; noble and vital as they were in saving our city, did cause a strain on your womb. The muscles that line the area holding your youngling contracted, causing some minor tearing and bleeding."

I felt Rhys's agony flicker through our bond as he heard the words, no doubt thinking back to what those initial moments must've been like—when I was floating in and out of consciousness and crying out from the pain. "This caused your body to enter premature labor, but I was able to stop it, heal the tear, and stop the bleeding in sufficient time," she finished explaining.

A few more tears slid down my face as I closed my eyes, returning a hand to hold my stomach gently—afraid that even the slightest touch would reopen the wound in my newly repaired muscles. The healer placed a reassuring hand over mine.

"You are resilient my lady. You and your youngling are strong. Not only did you fight for his survival, your healing blood doing what it could at the time, but your youngling did as well. As I was tending to your wounds, I felt the power in his blood attempting to sustain his environment—that healing power you have passed onto him. Part of the agony you felt was not only premature labor pains, but also your youngling restoring the injury to your womb."

My eyes widened at the revelation and I looked at Rhys, who also looked as if this was the first time he was hearing it. "But this does mean you will need to remain on strict bed rest until further notice. My medicinal process will continue over the course of the next few weeks. It is slow, but successful. Your youngling is safe now, but your body and his need this time to continue to rest and recuperate. I also want to ensure that the muscles I repaired remain intact and regain its strength. Allow me to check on that progress now," she continued before placing her hands on either side of my stomach. Healing magic flowed through those hands as I turned to face Rhys.

He squeezed my hand again. He has your healing powers. He...was healing you

I covered my mouth to stifle a sob. Everything she warned us of, all the risks and complications...I've brought them on myself, and on our baby.

Don't say that Feyre. This is not your fault.

Of course it is! I winced as a light spasm flowed through me, but Madja's restorative touch gently dissolved it.

Her weary eyes met mine. "My lady, it is imperative that you do not put any additional stress on yourself at this time. Physically, or emotionally."

I nodded and breathed in a deep sigh, both of Rhys's hands gripping mine as Madja went back to her work. Please Feyre. Don't blame yourself for this

I saw the hurt sparkling in his eyes, the heartbreak, and realized the anger I saw earlier wasn't directed at me. It's not your fault either, Rhysand.

I shouldn't have left you here in your condition. It was a mistake assuming you and Velaris would be safe with the threat of a coup on the horizon

Through the bond, I could feel the remorse he had spent the last two days ruminating in—believing himself to be at fault for my current state. We were blaming ourselves, when in truth the accountability lied in our attackers; each of us having to respond accordingly. A seed of blame still lived in me, because deep down I had known using my powers to such an extent was a risk. I didn't anticipate it causing as much damage as it did, and I would never forgive myself for it. The regret that resided in Rhys, however, was from leaving his pregnant mate behind.

We can't be racked with this guilt, Rhys. We had no idea this would happen. I said through the bond, brushing my thumb along his lightly as I curled against his mental shields.

I saw the inner turmoil he battled with in his violet eyes as he kept himself closed off for the time being, fighting his male-bonded instincts that caused him to be vehemently angry at himself for believing he abandoned his weak and vulnerable mate—all the while trying to convince himself that he hadn't. Finally, I felt him lower his shields and let him hold me through the bond; felt his engulfing warmth and security.

You're right

It was all he could manage as I felt the emotions swirl through him, and on that bridge that connected us, I held him just as securely as he held me.

Madja moved her hands from my stomach with a satisfied nod. "Everything is as it should be, the recovery you made while unconscious was substantial, but for the next week or so, you are to remain in bed and must pass over your duties as High Lady for the time being. I will be in daily to monitor your condition, and after this initial period of strict confinement, we'll see about you returning to some of those duties."

I nodded my understanding and so did Rhys. "I'll make sure she gets more than the adequate amount of rest she needs," he said, voice still strained.

"I have no doubt about that my lord, but you must also allot yourself some time to rest," the healer said, turning her full attention to my mate. "You haven't gotten a wink of sleep since I arrived. I understand your mating bond is very fragile, and I can't imagine the stress you must be under as High Lord, mate, husband, and now the expectant father."

She placed a gentle hand on my mate's shoulder. "You must also take care of yourself for your mate's benefit. Sleep, eat, and allow yourself to attend to your duties as High Lord and turn her care over to the others. They worry for both of your well-being and would be glad to do whatever they can to help."

I frowned as Rhys's shoulders tensed a bit at her words, and for clarification he allowed me past a layer of his adamant walls. There I saw the memories of the time I remained unconscious—how he guarded my side night and day and locked the rest of our family out; physically and mentally. He passed messages through the healer as she was the only one allowed in and out of our room, and the others didn't push—despite how distraught he knew they were over my condition. They tried to bring him food and water, but he remained closed off, locking himself away with me until now.

I shouldn't have shut them out. He admitted through the bond. But until you were awake, until I knew everything would be okay...I just couldn't bring myself to face them or let them near you, or do anything else for that matter

I sighed and squeezed his hand gently. "I'll take care of him, Madja," I reassured the healer.

She nodded. "That's good to hear," she said before turning to her bag of supplies. "Now, I'm prescribing an herbal tea mixture for you to consume twice a day. Once in the morning, and then at night. This will aid in your recovery and work to help you slowly regain more energy. I'm mixing it with your prenatal herbal mixture to continue supplementing your youngling as well." She mixed together the concoction on the spot, using her own powers to brew a cup for me and handed me the mug.

I cringed as I attempted to sit up on my own, but Rhys already had an arm around my back to keep me upright. The healer offered me a wry smile, "You'll continue to be sore for the next few days, so please, take even the slightest movements with great caution."

I nodded and held the cup of tea to my lips, taking a sip. "Thank you Madja, for everything," I said, hoping she saw the sincerity in my eyes.

She nodded again with a slight bow. "Of course, my lady," she turned to Rhys. "I'll go inform the others of the Lady's recovery and return tomorrow afternoon."

"Thank you." Rhys said, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing it. She smiled again before excusing herself, leaving my mate and I alone.

I took another sip of my tea as Rhys adjusted himself to sit on the bed, keeping me upright. "The city is secure," he said softly, and my heart skipped a beat. "Your wall of water put out all the flames, and the palace lords were able to arrange for repairs to the damaged buildings right away."

Tears of relief slid down my cheeks as I held my brew at my lips, allowing the steam from the cup to warm my face and keep me at ease. "Our home is safe again...?" I whispered.

He pressed a kiss to my temple. "Everyone is safe, Feyre. Everyone," he reassured. He knew my worry for Ressina and my other painter friends; the younglings we taught in my studio and their parents. The innocent lives I fought and would always fight to protect.

Defender of the Rainbow

I sighed heavily and slowly turned in his arms to meet his gaze. "What happened...in the Mortal Lands? Why did Vassa come here?" I asked, knowing she had not done this willingly.

Rhys sighed as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his violet eyes going distant as he recalled the details. "Cassian, Azriel, and I arrived at the queen's palace up in flames. Lucien was doing his best to calm them while he ordered the guards to put them out. He said it happened so fast," he began, and I frowned.

"Beron arrived with one of the generals of his armies, and with the sorcerer who cursed Vassa. We don't know how he managed to find him, but he forced Vassa into her firebird form and cast her to the skies to begin wreaking havoc. He had complete control over her," He sighed as he closed his eyes. "Lucien and Beron had a confrontation before unleashing his army to attack and Jurian took over and led their armies to fight back. We arrived after Beron and the sorcerer vanished with Vassa, and Lucien doing what he could to put out the flames on the palace while Jurian and the mortal forces continued to battle against the Autumn Court army. He had already sent word to Tamlin for help, but we jumped in and started fighting on their behalf until they arrived. We were worried about where Beron would take Vassa next, and I...I had a bad feeling. I wanted to come back to Velaris as soon as possible; wanted to come back to you. Cassian was about to send word to Devlon, to gather our legions that haven't turned yet, when I felt it-"

His breath hitched and I saw his throat bob before he went on, voice hoarse. "I felt a tug on the bond...not from you, but from our son." He touched my stomach with a gulp. "That normal glimmer was a hot spark, a cry for help, and I knew something was wrong. I winnowed back to Velaris immediately, right at your side, only seconds after you collapsed...and then I saw the blood..."

I reached my arms around his shoulders as he collapsed into tears, the memory of me lying in the grass unconscious and bleeding now overwhelming him. I wrapped my arms around him as he buried his face into the crook of my neck, his arms encircling my waist as he cried. Dropping my emptied mug to the floor, I held him—my own tears falling as I buried my face in his hair and rubbed soothing circles on his back.

After a few minutes he pulled back to meet my gaze, a hand going to hold my stomach gently. "I thought I was going to lose you, and our son, and I couldn't bear it. I brought you inside the estate just as Mor arrived with Madja. She knew you would need help, but she was horrified when she saw your condition. I laid you down right there, in the foyer, so Madja could get to work, but you were fading," he squeezed his eyes shut at the memory.

I brushed against his mental shields, asking him to show me rather than tell me of the events that transpired, and he hesitated before letting me in. I saw myself lying on the marbled ground, pale, as the healer had her hands pressed to my stomach—hands glowing with her healing magic. I heard the voices of the others—panicked and yelling as they arrived at the estate. Then I heard myself groaning and whimpering in agony, and I remembered from my own harrowing memories that I thought I had been screaming. Instead, I was on the floor, crying and pleading incoherently as Madja healed me and then met Rhysand's eyes. I looked into my own dull grey-blue eyes and was overwhelmed with a sense of helplessness that my mate had endured.

I pushed away from his thoughts, unable to look at myself any longer and sobbed. "I'm sorry I put you through that Rhysand. I...how can you ever forgive me?"

He captured my lips with his, pleading and adoring and forgiving as he kissed me. "You and our son are safe. That's all that matters to me now," he whispered before kissing me again.

I kissed him back, holding his face and brushing away the tears from his cheek with my thumbs as he did the same. "I would be so furious...how are you not furious with me? How are the others not-" I choked.

He met my gaze meaningfully. "I couldn't be furious with you for doing what you have always done, Feyre. I was scared, I still am, but I spent the last two days praying to the Mother, that you would just wake up."

His thumbs stroked my cheeks gently as starlight danced behind his violet eyes. "I can't tell you how relieved I am that you and our son are safe," he kissed me again. "For that reason, I can't be angry."

I sniffed as I kissed him back, holding his wrists gently as he held my face. "I'll be careful from now on," I promised. "I'll let you coddle and fuss over me all you want."

A tired laugh escaped past his lips and my heart fluttered at the sound, glad to see a smile return to his handsome face. "I'll hold you to that, Feyre darling," he said with quiet amusement.

We held each other; brows pressed together as we moved to stare at my stomach. Our son was quiet, but I could feel his subtle movements. Rhys caressed it gently, earning a kick to his palm and he smiled again. "Still so strong," he whispered.

"He's amazing...and he's still growing," I said as I brushed my fingertips along the expanse of my belly.

"Thank the Mother," Rhys said as he moved down to press a kiss at the apex of my stomach.

I brushed my fingers through his hair as he stayed by my belly, restoring it back from the mess it had been from his stressed hands mussing it up. "I think I know what we should name him," I mused.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Sebastian."

"Sebastian?"

I nodded and ran a hand along the top of my stomach, "It suits him...don't you think?"

Sebastian. Venerable, and strong—which our youngling most certainly was. Rhys's eyes warmed as his hand rested atop mine. "It's perfect."

Our son must've agreed, because rather than a kick of protest under our palms, we felt that intimate glimmer flutter through our bond—strong as ever. Rhys let out a long breath, and I noticed the tension finally leaving his shoulders as he laid beside me; our joined hands lingering on my stomach as we stared at it until we both slipped into an easeful sleep.

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