ACOWAR (Rhysand's POV)

Chapter 6

(Rhysand's POV)

The usual sounds of spring did not greet me as I landed on the outer edge of the trees. Instead, the animals had gone silent - even the insects. The wild snarling of a beast pierced the air like a jagged knife, his sentries clambering in chaos in the wake of the sound. Tamlin was shredding himself a path, tearing trees nearly from their roots as he bellowed out her name.

Feyre's name.

The desperation in it, the distress. . . it felt so wrong to hear it in his voice. It sent a cold, sharp pang through the hollowness where our bond should have been. I reached for it, that connection, and again - nothing. Silence. As if it had never been there at all.

Sentries followed, calling out for her, for Lucien. And some of those soldiers-Hybern. I could see the king's insignia on their patches, could smell them from where I stood.

She couldn't be dead. She could not be dead.

I was instantly flowing from branch to branch within the trees, becoming mist and shadow with each leap. Where are you? Where are you? My panicked pleas heightened with each slip between space and time. Deeper and deeper into the forest, I blocked out the bellowing of that beast. Leaves brushed my face, my neck, as I floated between branches, their touch like a whisper.

A rustle below grabbed my attention. I halted, heart pounding, as two of Tamlin's sentries rushed past. I had gotten too close. In my blinding worry, I had gotten too close. I exhaled as they faded into the darkness of the trees.

There was no hint of her scent, nor that of the mating bond. I kept still on the limb, thick enough to plant my feet fully, and listened-letting every one of my senses take in the forest around me. With my eyes closed, I could hear the soft patter of animals stirring in their burrows, even higher in the trees above me-watching. The footsteps of those sentries faded further into the distance, the wind softly rustling the leaves on the ground and in the trees. There were scents: decomposition, moistness; a water source nearby; lingering male scents of those sentries again; remnants of a fire... but that was it. Nothing of Feyre, nothing of my mate.

My heart raced with a primal fear, one I had only known once before. I squinted against the memory, refusing to let it enter my mind. Refusing to let it pull me deeper into my unease. Feyre was out here, somewhere. She was not dead. She could not be dead.

Tree, branch, and leaf muddled together as my vision grew blurry. When had it become so dark? I paused my winnowing again, bracing myself against the thick trunk of a pine tree. My breaths were ragged, my throat burning. Had I been screaming? I swallowed again, sending another wave of fire down my throat.

I dropped to the forest floor, a dull thud reverberating through my bones with the impact. No scent, no trace. My consciousness didn't seem to exist as I slipped from clearing to clearing, fueled only by that innate terror.

I glanced upward, into the void where the moon should be-a new moon. It caused a thick darkness between the base of the trees. The shadows obscured my vision further. Even with my heightened senses, I couldn't compete with nature.

How long had I been out here? A few hours? A day? The sky gave me no indication. This could be my first night; it could be my second. Time had twisted-and I felt disoriented. The anxiety still clawed at my chest, urging me to continue. To find my mate. My head swam with exhaustion but my anxiety didn't lessen any.

As I stumbled through the underbrush, that tiredness gnawed at my mind, twisting reality into something unrecognizable. Shadows flickered at the edges of my vision, and for a moment, I thought I heard her voice-a soft whisper slicing through the stillness of the forest.

"Rhys..."

I froze, breath hitching. I strained to listen, but the sound faded, swallowed by the oppressive darkness.

"Feyre!" I called, my voice cracking the silence. "Where are you?"

Nothing. Just the rustle of leaves and the distant call of a night creature, mocking my anguish. I could almost taste her scent in the air, a fleeting memory of her presence, but it slipped away like smoke.

The shadows pressed in closer, and I staggered against a tree, squeezing my eyes shut. My mind betrayed me, spinning tales of her laughter and the warmth of her skin. I was losing it.

"Feyre!" I shouted again, a mix of fury and alarm in my voice. But only silence answered, an abyss stretching endlessly before me.

I pressed a hand to my forehead, feeling the sweat and the ache of fatigue thrum through me. The line between hope and delusion blurred, and I wasn't sure how much longer I could endure this torment.

I wondered if this was how Feyre had felt, when Hybern had taken me and put me in those shackles. The odd restraints had dampened the bond then, too. I couldn't have felt her panic, she couldn't have felt mine. At least she had my scent then. I tried to block the memory of her rage - of finding out she was my mate. The look in her eyes had been. . . I shook it away.

Hills and rocks and roots, my feet barked in pain as I fisted another set of twigs out of my way. Their thorns tore at the skin of my forearms. I blinked, stopping in my tracks as I noticed the tiny cuts healing over. There were dozens of them, now faded to nothing but a lighter tone of my tanned skin - soon, they'd be unnoticeable as my magic cleaned them away. When - when had I stopped winnowing?

I looked down to find myself covered in tree sap and pine needles. Rubbing my hands down my shirt, I brushed away what I could. Then I noticed the light shifting-a shaft of sunlight breaking through the forest canopy. As I regained my awareness, the sudden weight of exhaustion buckled my knees, forcing me to the ground. I groaned at the pain, nearly collapsing.

Feyre. I sent another desperate plea, only for it to vanish into the void. It lingered in my mind until it faded. Dizziness washed over me. Another, heavier weight pressed on my back-my wings. When had they appeared? I hadn't grasped the depth of my blind terror until exhaustion threatened to pull me under. Feyre.

Every limb screamed at me as I tried to stand. A day, had it really been a full day I'd been searching for her? I should have come across her scent by now. Clarity began to pour in as my senses weakened, as the adrenaline could no longer course through me at the same speed.

If Feyre, if my mate had. . . If she was. . . there would be a trail. There would be the scent of blood, of her fear, of something.

A new worry spiked through me, sending enough energy to spring to my feet, my senses heightened once more with this newfound threat. Tamlin would not have been searching for Feyre like that if he had hurt her. How could I have been so careless not to see? The surging dread began to ebb as I focused. Tamlin-Mother above, he might think... Would he believe Feyre would go back to the Night Court? He had turned back at some point, though the timing was unclear; I had tuned out his roars long ago. If she had fled, Tamlin would never have left her out here to fend for herself. Not the innocent, fragile female he thought her to be. Unless... Tamlin knew. He must know he'd been deceived. His entire court had been.

The renewed panic propelled me forward and I vanished. My mind still somewhere behind catching up with the decision.