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 TWENTY-FIVE I am what I am 'cause you trained me
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"You did what?" Elayla raged as soon as she set foot on the ground, glaring at Rhysand.
He set a trap for the Attor at the Archeron's, how could she not have noticed? The anticipation that clung to his feelings, the waiting, the worry.
"I don't have time for this conversation now, Elayla." He dismissed as he let go of Feyre, who's anger at the situation simmered down, but they had probably had an argumment about it. "We'll talk about it later."
In reality, Rhys had enough from fighting the females in his life, Feyre started blocking him out, and Elayla -despite the couple smiles she flashed at the Archeron's- still despised him.
"Don't you dare to baby me after you just screwed up, Rhys." She grumbled, raising her finger at him, "I'm not some five years old you can dismiss when you're about to discuss your dumb decisions."
The acrid tone to her words made something inside him shift, anger. Gods, she knew how to piss him off, how to push all the buttons he kept hidden. It felt as if she spent the half a century learning how to shred every semblance of patience he had.
"Listen, Nightingale," He clenched his jaw tight. "Questioning my 'dumb' decisions can wait after I go to the Hewn City and question that fucking freak. Save your anger for later, Gods know how much you'll need it."
"I'm coming with you." She retorted, standing her ground, a storm ready to break if not acknowledged.
So much like him it hurt to watch her, so much potential wasted on drinks and spite.
"I don't take drunk people to an interrogation." He replied without batting an eye.
"Humor me." She crossed her arms in front of her. His daughter. His heir. His lost home. "I've seen enough blood not to falter over that... whatever his name is."
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