A Court of Secrets and Moonlight

72: Retaliation

Leur

Choices.

That's all I was left with as that rope wrapped itself around my leg.

I could either free myself and hope I had enough time to make up for the distance I lost before those dogs plowed through my wall of starfire, or I could let them drag me across it and give Azriel and Feyre a chance to escape.

I could either flee like any sensible person would do, or I could let them drag me back to where Tamlin was currently surrounded by hounds.

I could either save everyone else, or myself.

Tamlin, my best friend.

Tamlin, the male who had never given up on me, who had sacrificed himself for me time and time again, who had given up his entire life for my freedom.

Feyre, my sister.

Feyre, the female who had saved my life, who had healed me, who had brought my brother peace for the first time in his life.

Azriel, my mate.

Azriel, the male who walked side by side with me in both darkness and light, who had loved me even when I did not deserve it, the other half of my soul.

Me or them.

It was an easy choice.

They'd hate me for it, every single one of them. If I managed to live, I wasn't entirely sure Azriel or Feyre would ever speak to me again. But they needed to get out, needed to be safe, needed to get themselves, Elain, and that poor human girl away from this hellhole. They would not leave me behind, that much I knew. They would not abandon me here no matter how much I wanted them to. So, I smashed through their mental shields. I ripped them to shreds and bent their minds to my will.

Go.

Do not look back.

Do not stop until you have reached our camp.

Do not come back for me, or allow anyone else to do so.

I graced Feyre with one last gift- a gift I should have given her a long time ago. I reached into her mind and ingrained Illyrian instincts there, all of my knowledge of flying, all the muscle memory and years of practice. All of it. I watched her take off and fly as if she had been born to do it, as if she was not a human girl turned fae- but a pure blooded Illyrian.

And then I let them take me.

I crossed over that wall of starfire, having accepted the choice I made, prepared to do whatever I needed to in order to get Tamlin out of here. He was utterly surrounded, the commander who had me hooked far to the left of where the rest of us were. The tents where we had run were completely torn to shreds, a path ripped all the way from the King's tent. A combination of Azriel's Illyrian power, Tamlin spotting us from the side, me ripping anything in our path down, and the hounds plowing over that rubble. Far in the distance, an entourage of silver and black moved towards us. Slowly, as if it was a taunt.

"Sweet Leuruna" The King's voice boomed, "I had that crafted just for you."

I bucked my body off the ground, pulling on that rope wrapped around my leg as I moved. A spike on the end of it was dug into the side of my thigh, anchoring it to me, the skin ripping more as I twisted around to reach it. Gwydion glowed with white light as I slashed it down, slashing through the magic surrounding it like butter. A normal sword could not have done this, could not have broken this magic rope off of my leg. This rope that I was certain had been dipped from the Cauldron's waters.