𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 (Book 2)

Twenty-Three

I woke with a jolt. Air flooded my lungs like a tidal wave and I could suddenly breath again.

It took me a moment to realize that I was no longer in Spring Court. The pale structure and open feeling of the place told me all I needed to know about my location.

    I should have been thankful. I should have felt something, and yet when I searched inside myself, all I found was the same darkness I'd found in the many prisons I'd been locked in. Mental. Physical. They were all the same to me.

All filled with an all-consuming darkness that had finally claimed my soul for good this time.

My eyes drooped with exhaustion and I only barely kept them open as I looked to my left, hearing the familiar sound of breathing.

I found Rhysand sitting in a velvet chair, his arms resting on the sides as he looked off at his territory.

His face was strained with an icy wrath that glittered in his eyes. His hair was disheveled, as though he'd run his hands through it many times. He had yet to notice I was awake, too deep in thought.

I looked over at what he was looking at—or through.

The large window across from us once again showed his vast expanse of land, wreathed with mountains and snow.

A wind blew past, sweeping the fresh and powdered snow from the icy cliffs and into the sky. The snow rode on the wind until it had dispersed to small flakes. The sun shone in the sky, lighting up the lands I looked upon.

And...nothing.

I felt nothing at the sight. A sight that would have once filled my heart with joy and excitement, seeing new things. New adventures.

    Nothing.

I looked at Rhysand again just as his head turned to mine. The anger that had marred his face disappeared almost entirely. Replaced with something of concern.

"You're awake." he stated.

"What happened?" I asked on instinct, my voice was hoarse as though I'd been screaming at the top of my lungs—

"You were screaming," Rhysand interrupted my thoughts. I should have snapped my shields up, and yet it just felt like too much work. Let him walk through my mind, it would be a miserable trip anyway.

"How did you—" he cut me off again.

"By law and protocol," he said as he stretched out his legs. Still wearing the same black suit he always did, "things would have become very complicated and very messy if I had been the one to walk out of that house and take you. Smashing that shield was fine, but Mor had to go in on her own two feet, render the sentries unconscious through her own power, and carry you over the border to another Court before I could bring you here. Or else Tamlin would have free rein to march his forces into my lands and reclaim you and your sister. And as I have no interest in internal war, we had to do everything by the book."

"My sister is here?" I asked.

Rhys nodded, "When Mor went to get you she found Feyre in a similar state to yours... Once we'd gotten you out of there safely, Mor went back for her and brought her here herself."

"When we go back..." I trailed off.

"As you and your sister's presence here isn't part of our monthly requirement, neither of you are under any obligation to go back." He reached up a hand to rub at his temple, "Unless you wish to."

Even after our monthly visits I never wanted to go back. The only reason I didn't up and beg Rhysand to let me stay was because I would never leave my sister to suffer there alone.