A Song of Faithless Shadows

80. The Feeling is Big

TW- mentions of SA
Gwyneth

Rhys doesn't come alone.

He arrives not long after Azriel leaves with a very disgruntled Briar held in his arms, thrashing free and running for me. I sob a little harder as Briar rubs against my side, happily accepting how I lift him and embrace him against my chest.

Gods, Azriel must've sent him with Rhys.

I wanted to forget that man.

The man who is always evaluating how I feel. The man who is the single kindest person I know, who will never see it in himself. The man who has always kept me safe and warm and... loved.

I hold Briar closer as Rhys sits beside me on the ground, tucking his legs close. "Do you want me to show you?"

I'm shaking, so sick with myself and my trauma that I can barely breathe. "I don't know if I can take it," I whisper.

I hear him swallow, his hand rested idle on his knee. I knew this was hard for him too, seeing me like this. It must be like a mirror sometimes. "Can I show you something else first?"

Unable to speak, I nod, burying my face in Briar's fur as Rhys gently claims my mind.

I have no understanding of the place we emerge. It's a balcony around a rocky cave scape. Rhys is carefully gripping the railing, knuckles white, no wedding ring on his finger.

Feyre is talking to him, but it's strange. The two of them were always so affectionate with one another, but here, Feyre clearly doesn't like him very much. Still, there is a charge between them, though Feyre smells vaguely of Tamlin.

This was right after Amarantha fell, then.

Suddenly, I feel Rhysand's manner shift. He tenses, and I know then that the mating bond had snapped into place. He's frantic, shutting down entirely, and he outright winnows away.

Morrigan is there, but I can't hear her over the sound of Rhys repeating over and over, "She's my mate." He's losing his mind from the sounds of it, flinching from Mor's touch, unable to look her in the eye, weeping, sick to his stomach.

I come clear of the memory, Rhys sighing and tipping his head against the wall, wiping a tear. "I was afraid too," he tells me. "And if there was someone who I thought could've made me forget, I would've given them my cygnet for them to make me not feel that sort of panic."

I press my lips together, staring at him. The High Lord... he was my friend. We had a greater understanding than I ever knew. I wonder if anyone will ever understand that piece of me the way he does.

"And it had very little to do with her. So what she was with another? That barely crossed my mind then," he says, voice cracking. "I didn't believe that I could ever be anything for her, for anyone. I felt broken beyond repair, tarnished and unlovable. I didn't want be touched, let alone mated."

I nod, feeling his words twist in my gut.

"But I gave my heart the time it needed. And in time, everything I needed to heal was within me, not without," he says to me. "You've fought half the battle already, Gwyn."

"Then why am I crying so much?" I laugh vacantly.

"The feeling is big," he tells me. "Overwhelming. Familiar. It can call you back. It calls me back all the time. It doesn't mean you're regressing. It just means that you remember."

I nod, swallowing.

"Can I show you something else?" He asks gently, and I nod, drifting into his memory.