bloodlust

16

They landed harshly, Feyre's knees nearly buckling beneath her and sending her sprawling in the dirt. Rhysand's fingers dug into her skin until the moment her shoes scraped the stone beneath her, then sharply letting go and forcing her to catch herself on a nearby rock. The surface was so cold that it felt damp. She felt like she'd left her stomach behind when he'd transported them. She blinked, registering the world around her. 

They were underground. The walls rose high around her, disappearing into deep darkness instead of a ceiling. Jagged black crystals jutting out from the walls caught the flickering orange glow of the torchlight, sending scattered stars across her vision. 

The air here was wrong. It smelled stiff and stagnant. No breeze caressed her skin. The air did not move here. It felt stifling immediately. Water echoed somewhere in the distance.

"Where are we?" She asked, turning to him. He simply stared down at her blankly, making no move to respond to her. When she spoke again, her tone was sharper. "Where did you take me?"

He stood several feet away, utterly still.

His black clothing seemed almost to disappear against the cavern walls, leaving only the sharp planes of his face illuminated by the torch nearest them. His hands hung loosely at his sides. His expression was calm. Too calm.

Feyre's heart began to beat harder. "Where did you take me?"

His eyes moved over her face.  "Come with me." He turned on his heel and began walking down a dark bath inside the mountain. 

She stared after him for a moment before falling into stride behind him. The hall he walked down was spiraling, seeming to run even deeper underground. The sounds that tingled in Feyre's ears were horrifying. She could hear screams and screeches, growls and snarls. 

When the noises continued to grow louder, she stopped abruptly. He noticed immediately, turning to look her over with an intense look on his face. 

"Why did you stop?"

He actually looked curious. Not concerned or amused, just curious. "Because I don't know where I am."

"Exactly." The single word settled into the cavern.

Feyre's pulse kicked harder and Rhysand took one slow step toward her. She instinctively stepped backward. His mouth curved. It was barely a smile, but she saw it.

"Don't," she breathed out.

He didn't stop. "Don't what?"

"Look at me like that."

His smile deepened. "Like what, Feyre?"

"Like you're enjoying this." She shivered, the air freezing down here. 

"I am." 

The honesty struck harder than she expected.  Her lips parted.  Rhysand watched the realization settle over her face, and something dark flickered in his eyes.

"There," he murmured.

Her spine stiffened. "There what?"

"That look." His gaze dropped briefly to her throat.

Feyre's hand moved there instinctively, feeling how tender and sensitive her skin would be beneath his touch. His eyes returned to hers.

"That little moment when you realize you are not in control of the situation."

Her stomach sank. "I am always aware that I'm not in control around you."

"Are you?" His voice was almost conversational.