𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚖(𝙰𝙲𝙾𝚃𝙰𝚁)

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔦𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫

i dont want to fully villianize Lucien in this. I am a Lucien stan. But in Mary's story, he is an enabler. Just know I'm not villianizing him, but it will take a while for her to forgive him.
—
"It's not that bad," I was assuring Feyre as she stared at her wedding dress in horror.

It was a monstrosity of tulle and chiffon and gossamer, the bodice fitted, the neckline curved to plump her breasts, and the skirts a sparkling tent, practically floating in the balmy spring air.

Tamlin had laughed when he'd seen it. As I helped her dress, I wrinkled my nose. I was sure Ianthe had chosen it to humiliate the female.

The worst were the puffy capped sleeves. I had curled her hair, half up, half down, entwined with pearls and jewels. And of course, she'd been given gloves to hide the tattoo.

I walked behind her as we came downstairs. Beyond the shut patio doors where we paused, the garden had been bedecked in ribbons and lanterns in shades of cream, blush, and sky blue. Three hundred chairs were assembled in the largest courtyard, each seat occupied by the court.

Ianthe had dressed me in a pink gown, and Alis had done my hair up, which I rarely did. I liked to let it flow in its natural curls.

"You don't have to be nervous, Fey," I assured her.

"I'm not," she rasped. I raised a brow at her.

"You look beautiful, despite the dress," I smiled.

"Thank you."

"Perk up, it's a wedding, not a funeral," I teased her.

But I could feel her hesitation. I couldn't help but wonder if she was planning on calling it all off.

Three hundred people rose to their feet and pivoted towards her as she entered. I took my spot at the front.

Feyre began to walk, her eyes filled with fear and anxiety. Her gaze fell upon the roses. White, yellow, and red.

Red.

She'd specifically said no red roses. I knew because she told me. I sensed the panic overcome her.

But despite it, she forced her gaze up, meeting Tamlin's eyes. Ten steps from the dais, at the edge of that splatter of red, she slowed.

Then stopped.

I glanced to her, then Tamlin. I felt it, the self loathing she was projecting. The despair. The anxiousness.

Tamlin extended a broad hand, brows narrowing slightly. I could hear her heart beating from where I stood. Fast. Too fast.

"Feyre," Tamlin said, his hand steady as he continued to reach for hers.

And without her speaking at all, I heard her voice.

Help me, help me, help me, she begged. I exchanged a glance with Lucien, who stood with me in the front. Please, save me. Get me out. End this.

Tamlin took a step toward her, concern shading his eyes. She retreated a step. I stepped towards her, stopping only when Lucien held a hand out to keep me from advancing.

"Come, Bride, and be joined with your true love. Come, Bride, and let good triumph at last," Ianthe insisted.

Thunder cracked behind us, as if two boulders had been hurled against each other. People screamed, falling back, a few vanishing outright as darkness erupted.

I turned, and through the night drifting away like smoke on a wind, I found Rhysand straightening the lapels of his black jacket.

"Hello, Feyre darling," he purred to the panicked bride.

I studied the male. He seemed healthier. He'd gotten his tan back, put on some healthy weight, gained back muscle.

But his eyes had that same emptiness they had Under the Mountain. Darkness leaked from him like ink in water.

He angled his head, his blue-black hair shifting with the movement. Those violet eyes sparkled in the golden faelight as they fixed on Tamlin, as he held up a hand to where Tamlin and Lucien and their sentries had their swords half-drawn. But at the lift of that hand, they froze.

"What a pretty little wedding," Rhysand said, stuffing his hands into his pockets, an action I'd seen him do a million times.

Rhys looked Feyre over slowly, and clicked his tongue at her silk gloves. His gaze moved over to me, by her side now.

"Get the hell out," Tamlin snarled, stalking toward us. Claws ripped from his knuckles, and I couldn't hide my flinch.

"Oh, I dont think so. Not when I need to call in my bargain with Feyre and Mary," he mused.

I wasn't breathing. I thought I was squeezing Feyre's hand so tight I would break it.

"You try to break the bargain, and you know what will happen," Rhys went on. He jerked his chin toward us. "I gave you ladies three months of freedom. You could at least look happy to see me."

Feyre was shaking too badly to say anything, and I was trying to remember how to breathe. I felt as though I would pass out from lack of air. Rhyss eyes flickered with distaste.

"I'll be taking them now," he decided.

"Dont you dare," Tamlin growled.

"Was I interrupting? I thought it was over," Rhys smiled. I wondered if he'd heard her begging for help like I had. "At least, Feyre seemed to think so."

"Let us finish the ceremony—" Tamlin sneered.

"Your High Priestess," Rhys said, "seems to think its over, too."

Indeed, Ianthe had fled. Tamlin stiffened as he looked over a shoulder to find the altar empty. When he faced us again, the claws had eased halfway back into his hands.

"Rhysand—"

"Im in no mood to bargain," Rhys said, "even though I could work it to my advantage, Im sure. Lets go."

Neither of us moved. I pressed myself further into her side.

"Tamlin," Feyre breathed.

Tamlin took a single step toward us, and I gave him a pleading look, begging him to stop this. But he hadn't stopped Rhys Under the Mountain, why would he now?

"Name your price," Tamlin said to Rhys.

"Dont bother," Rhys crooned, linking elbows with Feyre, who was clutching onto me.

"Tam, don't let him take us," I begged, tears threatening to fall. He couldn't even meet my eyes.

"Tamlin, please," Feyre begged.

"Such dramatics," Rhysand teased, tugging her closer.

But Tamlin didnt move—and those claws were wholly replaced by smooth skin. He fixed his gaze on Rhys, his lips pulling back in a snarl.

"If you hurt them--"

"I know, I know," Rhysand drawled. "I'll return them in a week."

I was trembling now, tears streaming down my cheeks. Even Lucien was gaping at Tamlin, his face white with fury and shock. I sent my friend a glance, pleading for him to step in.

But nobody did a thing despite our obvious terror.

"Hold on," he said to us.

Then darkness roared, a wind tearing me this way and that, the ground falling away beneath me, the world gone around me. Only Rhys and Feyre remained, and I clung to Fey, terrified.

Then the darkness vanished.

The scent of jasmine filled my nose. Then I opened my eyes, met with stars. A sea of stars flickering beyond glowing pillars of moonstone that framed the sweeping view of endless snowcapped mountains.

"Welcome to the Night Court," was all Rhys said.