Females were very rare in the night court's ruling family as it was, all either die young or end up forgotten in the abyss of history.
Rhysand ever thought he'd have to father one of these, in fact, he did't believe he even deserve to be a father, u...
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CHAPTER THREE
And then on a night with the setting sun
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Strolling down Windhaven Camp on her own wasn't something Elayla was supposed to do. In fact, even peeking her nose outside the family's cabin would've sent Rhysand in a spiral of worry and anxiety.
She was, howeer, really bored after hours of doing the reading her Baba assigned to her, inclusidng the playful self-centred sentences that often made her laugh, and Rhys had left her on her own to tend to some Illyrian matters.
So she slipped away at sunset, sneaking carefully behind her Baba's and Azriel's backs to get some fresh air; concealed in old clothes that happened to be Rhysand's when he was a bit older than her age. The smooth black fabric was obviously bigger than her; the sleeves slightly hiding the palms of her hands, the pants larger, but she still felt like it was the best attire she's ever worn.
She had nothing against dresses, on the contrary she liked them enough, but walking around Illyrians in a dress made her skin crawl of embarrassment, she hated being seen as weak and childish, even more feeling threatened by the knowledge of the fate of most Illyrian females in the past.
With her feet falling upon, the mud sticking to the old worn out leather boots she had found hidden inside the cabin, she glanced curiously at the hand-built cabins, beautiful and ruthless, the standing fortresses of Illyrian ego.
Night, howeer, was quick to cath on her, making her lose track of where she was and how she was supposed to go back. "Stop thrashing..." A harsh voice said in a near, dark path "Give it to me."
It startled her, making her whip her head to the side in caution, but they were thankfully not talking to her. "I told you no." a much more desperate, panting voice answered "It's mine... It's my mother's, let it go !"
Elayla's blood ran cold at the words, the pleading tone in them, something tugged at her chest as she walked with a determined step there; "Hey you," She called the taller boy, who's wings flared behind his back as he gripped another boy in a choke hold "Pick someone your size!"
