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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Kid, get off the ground. Spit your blood, bare your teeth.
Go down savage. Go down fighting."
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.
So she slipped away at dawn, sneaking carefully behind her Baba's and Azriel's backs o get some fresh air away from their protective tendencies; 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.
"Stop thrashing..." A harsh voice said in a near, dark path "Give it to me."
"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!"
The tall, broad boy turned to her, looking older and stronger than her "Mind your business, little girl, or have you lost your way."
The mention of her getting called a little girl made her nerves go tense.
"I said, let. him. go..." She scowled, tearing the boy's hand away; her eyes meeting his, bursting into flames. There was always some kind of a flame to her, so hidden it could be almost invisible, the flare of ancient authority that came with bearing the blood of her father.
"Who do you think you are?!" He pushed her away, making her stumble back to the ground harshly, hitting her head against a wall. She brought her hand to the back of her head, burning and stinging, she felt a boiling hot liquid on her fingers.
Crimson red all over her skin...
Blood...
The other boy, in what looked like a hazy fog to her, took the opportunity to rip what seemed like a pendant away from the bully before kneeing him in the groin.
Foggy...
Everything looked like she was watching through mist...
Her mental shields slipped the slightest bit at that.
"Are you alright?" The boy steps up and catches her, she couldn't really see anything but his eyes, the hazel of them mixing up with golden hues. "Baba..." Was a name called in emptiness, stuttered somewhere between her tongue and her mind. "Baba..."
"Your father...?" The boy asked hastily, his hands cupping her face, the callousness of his skin scratching against her smooth skin "You want your father?" He repeated, looking frightened out of his wits.
She couldn't really realize how bad it was, "Goddamn it, Violet..." He muttered under his breath, probably referencing to the color of her eyes "Don't close your eyes, stay up. Don't pass out on me." He nearly pleaded.
"Someone help!" Was the last scream she could hear
Rhysand was slowly losing his mind, looking around every street with his temper running up and down in every possible direction. She was nowhere to be found in the past ten minutes.
He had woken up to a missing Elayla, her night clothes discarded in a messy pile in the corner of the room, the window cracked open and nothing else to show her presence.
The kid had sneaked out. For the first time ever.
He didn't know if he should be proud or mad at her for managing to slip through Azriel's watchful guard of shadow and his own daemati powers. He had sneaked out a million times as a child himself, making his mother worried sick from his little nocturnal adventures.
Karma was hitting him real bad.
'Baba...'
The word echoed inside his head. Her shields were down, and she was seeking him out. Blood froze inside his veins.
He had the bad feeling that he'd end up committing a crime again.
He knew that she only ever used that ability of her when there was no other solution, when everything seemed hopeless. The thought made his guts twist terribly at the idea of her being hurt.
"Someone help!" The scream makes him wake up from his own wrath, a bad feeling stirring up inside him, pushing him to run there.
His Layla on the floor...
A boy trying to wake her...
Blood...
Blood on her hands...
Blood everywhere.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
