The Bond of Night and Death

A Safe Place, For Now

"I'd like that."

The words slipped from her lips, barely a whisper, and yet they seemed to ripple out, echoing into the night. Then came the cheer—a roar of relief, of disbelief, raw and wild as it surged around them. The fae—those who'd once been silent, lifeless shadows—were now collapsing, laughing, clinging to each other with a desperation that looked as if they couldn't quite believe it was over.

Hyacinth stood amidst it all, her fingers still tingling with the remnants of her magic, the aftershocks of power ebbing from her bones. Amarantha was gone. That thick, choking darkness had faded, dissipating into the ether. And these beings around her, fae who had fought and endured for so long, looked like they'd been reborn, unsure of how to breathe in a world finally free.

A small, warm hand slipped into hers. She looked down to see Teddy, wide-eyed as he took in the faces around them, his hair flickering through shades of green to a bright, glowing yellow.

"Mummy," he whispered, voice tight with awe, "are they... are they happy?"

Her heart softened. "Yes, love," she murmured, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "They are."

A voice—a voice like night and shadows—broke through the haze of celebration. "Come with me."

She turned, finding Rhysand watching her, his violet gaze unwavering, unreadable but softened by something she couldn't quite place.

"Why?" Her voice came out steadier than she felt. She didn't know this fae—this High Lord with a gaze that seemed to strip her bare. And yet, some strange part of her, something deep in her core, told her he was the best option she had.

Rhysand inclined his head, gesturing to the fae still weeping and laughing, lost in their newfound freedom. "This place... it's not fit for a child. It's not fit for you." His gaze flicked to Teddy, a glint of something almost protective warming his violet eyes. "You both deserve better, Hyacinth."

There was something in his voice—something low and dark and true—that made her pause. She didn't trust him, and yet... that pull between them, that steady, thrumming hum, seemed to insist she follow, whispering that he'd keep them safe.

She glanced down at Teddy, his small hand firmly in hers, the warmth of his presence a comfort that cut through her uncertainty. "Fine," she muttered, ignoring the flicker of triumph she saw in Rhysand's gaze. "But don't expect me to let my guard down."

Rhysand's mouth curved into a smile, sly and satisfied. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Before she could second-guess herself, he reached for her hand, his grip warm, firm. Shadows began to coil around them, thick and potent, his power enveloping her in a cocoon of dark that felt like velvet against her skin. And just as quickly as the shadows had wrapped around them, the world blurs, reality bending and twisting until it snaps back into focus, revealing a scene that steals the breath from Hyacinth's lungs.

They appeared somewhere entirely new, the dark stone of the mountain replaced by a brilliant, glittering palace high atop a mountain peak, suspended under the night sky. She took in the sight around her the hall was open to the elements, no windows to be found, just towering pillars and gossamer curtains, swaying in that jasmine-scented breeze. Hyacinth could feel the magic used to keep the air warm in the dead of winter. Not to mention the altitude, or the snow coating the mountains, mighty winds sending veils of it drifting off the peaks like wandering mist. Little seating, dining, and work areas dotted the hall, sectioned off with those curtains or lush plants or thick rugs scattered over the moonstone floor. A few balls of light bobbed on the breeze, along with colored-glass lanterns dangling from the arches of the ceiling.