The Illyrian Warrior

Chapter Eighteen

Davina wasn't sure where she was or how she ran that far without bleeding to death. She only remembered incinerating everything. Her pure Illyrian power of chaos destroyed her father's office and everyone inside. That included her father and Wren's body. It also included her wings.

She had then ran as fast and as far as she could. She knew Illyrian soldiers would come to see what happened and she didn't want to be caught. So she bolted into the forest and didn't look back. Her golden power still thrummed inside her, begging for a release. It looked just like her mother's power, the golden light was so familiar and yet foreign at the same time. This could not be her power, she didn't have powers to this scale, she never had.

Davina clambered up to the canopy of a tree. She would be safe here until someone came. She was still bleeding, the Ashwood slowed her healing. So she found a thick sturdy branch to lay on, she laid back uncomfortably on the branch, wincing from the wounds.

She let the tears roll down her cheeks. Wren was gone, truely gone. Davina had failed.

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"Feyre darling!" Rhysand called from the bottom of the stairs, "I'm going to go pick up Davina and her sister, let me know if Azriel sends any new information".

"Okay! See you later!" Feyre answered from their bedroom.

Rhysand stepped out into their front garden, rustling and stretching his wings. He would fly to the mountains today, he needed time to clear his head and an icy breeze would do wonders. Stretching his wings wide and beating them hard, Rhys took off into the sky.

He would curse Azriel later for sending him to do this. He didn't mind Davina but he'd been very busy with Feyre this morning before he remembered he had to leave.

Rhys remained sceptical of Davina, despite his friends disagreeing with him. Perhaps he was being foolish and overprotective as both Cassian and Azriel had berated him about. Davina had just arrived at a convenient time, with the mortal queens talking and the search for the Death Trove beginning, it just seemed too planned out. Rhys shook his head, if his spymaster was so set on her being normal then Rhys would have to accept it too.

It hurt though, to speak to Davina and see so much of his sister's spirit. The determination, the stubbornness, Rhys couldn't help but wonder that if his sister had lived maybe she would've turned out like Davina.

Rhys could see the Illyrian mountains approaching. He remembered the flight path they took the night they had rescued her. Rhysand had been sucked down into a very dark hole when he had seen her. Wings cut off, laying so lifeless on the ground, surrounded in her own blood. It had been too familiar, and the sight was unwelcome. A wave of guilt washed over him, he is meant to stop things like that. He is High Lord, it's his job to prevent the camps from harming their women like that, as Davina had pointed out. Rhysand hoped Davina could do a better job than him. He had too much on his plate, especially with his heir about to arrive any minute, perhaps it was okay to hand things off. Besides, Rhys wanted to spend every waking moment with his child, he wanted to be the father he had always wished he had.

Rhysand scanned the skys of Davina's camp, searching for any sign of her, any-
Was that a flattened building?
Rhys swooped down and landed in front of the rubble, many Illyrians stood around talking gravely.

"What happened here?" Rhysand said applying the High Lord's voice he knew so well.

"High Lord!" One of the males said, "we are not sure, we think one of the males destroyed it in a fight".

Rhysand nodded seriously, inspecting the ruins closer. He sniffed, Ashwood? He sniffed again, trying to pick up on any scents. Davina!
He masked his face into indifference as he took to the skys again. Davina was in that building, and if he was correct, she was badly injured and not healing.

Subtly Rhysand flew around some more. Searching for any red patches in the snow, any tracks that might lead further into the mountains. He wasn't picking up on anything, no scents, no blood, no footprints. He cursed himself and reached into the mind of the one person who might know where she is.

Azriel? He asked, tapping on his mental wall.

Rhys? Is everything okay?

Um, I can't find Davina.

YOU CAN'T WHAT?!

Relax, I think she is alive I just-

YOU THINK SHE IS ALIVE?!

Calm down. Is there any place she might run to? A meeting point you had?

No, I have no idea where she would be.

That's not very helpful.

Rhys?

Yeah?

You better find her or pray to the cauldron I don't find you.

Rhysand left Azriel's mind. The threat was clear, Azriel cared for Davina deeply and if Rhys didn't want to ruin a friendship he'd have to get her back.

Rhysand landed along the outskirts of the camp. Davina was smart, she would run into the forest to escape the Illyrians. At least that narrowed his search. Rhysand stalked through the woods, sniffing, hoping to catch a whiff of the Ashwood or even Davina. He had hoped this would be a quick task, that Davina and her sister would be waiting for him. He did not plan to go hunting through the snow. Nevertheless, Rhys trudged on, if only to save himself from having to fight Azriel.

It was an hour later when Rhys finally found something. More like heard something. It wasn't much but a quiet mumbling in the distance, perhaps a whimper of some sorts. Rhys pressed on, following the sound which sent him weaving through the forest. Finally, a few miles from the camp Rhys found himself staring up a tree.

"Davina?" He said.

She looked shattered. She was bleeding, shaking in the cold and mumbling something to herself over and over again. Rhys hoisted himself up the tree so he could winnow Davina out. Rhys realised it was only Davina in the tree, no sign of her sister.

"Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone", Davina was mumbling.

Rhys tentatively reached out a hand. He could feel her power, he felt it sizzling under her skin. It was obvious she had flattened that building.

"Davina? What happened?" He said softly.

"She's gone. Gone. Gone. Gone", Davina was mumbling still.

Rhysand could not afford to bring Davina back like this. Illyrian power of such strength, without a siphon could destroy Velaris.

"Davina I'm going to have to put your mind into a deep sleep. It will only be temporary, just while we fix your wounds and find you a siphon", Rhys said gently, a hand resting on Davina's shoulder.

"Azriel", Davina mumbled, the first different word she had said since his arrival.

"It's me, Rhysand", Rhys said hoping to wake her from her haze.

"Azriel", Davina mumbled again, "I need my mate".

Rhys's eyes nearly fell out of his head. Her what? Azriel had a mate? Davina was his mate? Rhysand's mind was swirling, Azriel must not know, he would've told everyone immediately if he had.

"I'll get you Azriel", Rhys said gently as he entered her mind.

Rhysand understood the feeling of needing your mate more than anyone else, knowing that it is only them who could help you. Slowly and gently, Rhys lowered Davina into a deep slumber before winnowing them back to the estate.