𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚖(𝙰𝙲𝙾𝚃𝙰𝚁)

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔦𝔵𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫

I despised how beautiful the Night Court was. Nothing like the stories I'd been raised with. I'd been told of a cruel underground civilization, one Amarantha used as inspiration.

The building we were in had been perched atop one of the gray-stoned mountains. The hall around us was open to the elements, no windows to be found, just towering pillars and gossamer curtains, swaying in that jasmine-scented breeze.

Little seating, dining, and work areas dotted the hall, sectioned off with those curtains or lush plants or thick rugs scattered over the moonstone floor. A few balls of light bobbed on the breeze, along with colored-glass lanterns dangling from the arches of the ceiling.

Behind me, a wall of white marble arose, broken occasionally by open doorways leading into dim stairwells.

"This is my private residence," Rhys said casually. Maybe that was why it was so nice.

"How dare you--" Feyre began, her face scrunching up in anger.

"I certainly missed that look on your face," Rhys snorted. "Youre welcome, you know." How could he be laughing?

"For what?"

"For saving you when asked," he replied. My head snapped up. Had he heard her, too?

"I didnt ask for anything."

Rhys gave no warning as he gripped her arm, snarling softly, and tore off the glove to reveal her tattoo.

Once he took her gloves off, he went to grab for my arm. But Feyre stepped in front of me, shoving me behind her.

"Don't touch her," Feyre snarled at him.

Her fierce protectiveness made me flush. Rhys lifted his hands in surrender, stepping back. I relaxed and stepped out from behind her.

"I heard you begging someone, anyone, to rescue you, to get you out. I heard you say no," Rhys explained.

"I didnt say anything."

He turned her bare hand over, his hold tightening as he examined the eye hed tattooed. He tapped the pupil. Once. Twice.

"I heard it loud and clear. Mary heard you, too," he lilted.

Feyre's head whipped towards me, and I met her eyes, face heating. I nodded confirmation. I had heard her begging for help.

"Take me back. Now. I didnt want to be stolen away," Feyre demanded. "And neither did Mary."

"What better time to take you here? Maybe Tamlin didnt notice you were about to reject him in front of his entire court—maybe you can now simply blame it on me," Rhys shrugged.

"Youre a bastard. You made it clear enough that I had reservations," she sneered.

"Such gratitude, as always."

"What do you want from us?" Feyre asked him. The question had been haunting me since I agreed to the godsforsaken bargain.

"Want? I want you to say thank you, first of all. Then I want you to take off that hideous dress. You look—" His mouth cut a cruel line. "You look exactly like the doe-eyed damsel he and that simpering priestess want you to be."

"You dont know anything about me. Or us."

"Does Tamlin? Does he ever ask you why you hurl your guts up every night, or why you cant go into certain rooms or see certain colors?" Rhys asked her.

"Get the hell out of my head."

"Likewise." He stalked a few steps away. "You think I enjoy being awoken every night by visions of you puking? You send everything right down that bond, and I dont appreciate having a front-row seat when Im trying to sleep."