The Affair

We Meet Again

I freeze at the sight of him. It's been two years since our last encounter under the mountain, and he is just as breathtakingly beautiful as before. My breath catches in my throat at the shock of it, and I can feel the thump of my heat throughout my entire body. His smirk only intensifies at my discomfort, and an annoyingly perfect dimple appears by his mouth. Then he racks those violet eyes down my body and slowly drags them back up to my face. My body lights on fire under his gaze, immediately on full alert.

"Feyre," Tamlin says quietly. "What are you doing in here?" I blink rapidly, trying to get my bearings and force my eyes away from Rhysand, fixing them on Tamlin instead. He is shooting daggers at the dark-haired High Lord, but when I risk a brief glance back at Rhysand, I see that he still has his penetrating gaze set on me. I swallow hard, hating the affect his presence has on me.

Looking back to Tamlin, I slowly force my mouth to work. "Um...I'm sorry. I-I was looking for you, and I thought you were alone in here, because you don't have another meeting for awhile," I ramble.

"Go back to your room, Feyre. This is High Lord business." His voice is tense and authoritative, and his hands grip the edge of the table, clearly trying to hold in his anger.

I suddenly feel so small and insignificant in this room of powerful High Lords. I don't belong here at all. My cheeks heat in embarrassment and shame. "Yes," I force out quickly. "Sorry to interrupt." I glance once more at Rhysand and notice his smirk is gone, replaced by slightly furrowed brows, but his face is still unreadable to me. I turn towards the door and put my hand on handle to leave, but freeze at his deep and soothing voice.

"Why should she go? This meeting is about her, after all," he drawls.

I turn slowly towards Rhysand, whose smirk has returned. "What are you talking about?" I ask carefully.

"Rhysand, leave her out of this." Tamlin snaps harshly.

But Rhysand ignores him, still staring up at me. "I'm sure you remember that lovely little bargain we made, yes?" He asks, teasingly. I fight my body's instinct to hide my tattooed hand behind my back, but refuse to cower, holding my head high and waiting for him to continue. "The one I so graciously haven't called in for, might I add?"

I swallow hard. No, no, no, no, no. Is he going to call in my debt?

He smiles softly. "Don't worry, Feyre, Darling. I'm not here to whisk you away." My shoulders slightly relax at those words. "Although, I'm sure I could show you a much more exciting time in the Night Court than whatever this sad place has to offer." His tone drips of implementation, and I internally shiver in both excitement and horror at what that might mean. His mouth twitches slightly in some sick mix of amusement and lust.

A growl from the other side of the table pulls me out of it. Rhysand rolls his eyes mockingly. "Anyway...that bargain connects us in an interesting way, especially with me being damaeti and all. Sometimes you will throw your thoughts at me through that connection. Sometimes it's words, sometimes it's feelings, sometimes it's images."

My eyes widen, horrified at this information. What has he seen?! What have I accidentally sent him? Does he know about my powers? How much does he know about my misery here? Will he tell Tamlin? I internally panic as more and more unanswered questions are posed in my mind. "Yesterday," he continues, "I got all three. You were in quite the predicament, Feyre. You had no control of your powers."

Well, that answers one of my questions. He know I have powers. "Are you sure it wasn't a dream?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

He raises a brow. "In the middle of the day?" Rhysand chuckles softly. "Don't worry, Feyre, Darking. Your secret is safe with me. I'd like to keep the peace, and some High Lords would not be very happy with this ordeal, especially Beron. I wouldn't want him and his sons to come knocking on your door to raise hell." I hesitate at trusting him to keep my secret, but what other choice so I have?