The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman

Chapter 15

Sorry for not updating in a while; guess I'm just a bad ass like that ;)

~ Rhys ~

The beat of the drums reaches a crescendo when I release the arrow which proceeds to slice into the side of the sleek black panther. Whereas Tamlin killed a stag, Night's Rite sacrifice was a panther. Quick and agile, it was something magnificent to be hold. I regret having to spend the last hour hunting it.

With the blood of the animal drawn, the power of the Rite sweeps through me and I scream in agony until it settles, thrumming against my skin with an insatiable need. It's all consuming and completely uncontrollable- I need her.

I breath in the smell of the night woods around me. Starlight, roses, and the blood of the panther beneath me. I could not smell her.

The beat of the drums rattles through me and the rest of the Court. Lustful glances and couples writhing to the beat of the drums fills the forest. I push through the crowd and it parts around me, save for the lingering hands which reach to caress my body. I hiss and push forwards faster. No one will smudge the painted markings of the ritual but her.

Where is she? I can't smell her intoxicating scent on the wind. Why wouldn't she be waiting for me? Here to help me take away the burn heating my body from the inside...

I pull through the shadows and arrive in her room. Where she stays. With me. I'm aware of that there are Fae already in the room- waiting for me. Turning a full circle, I meet the gaze of each one of them. Clad in armour and heavily clad in weapons. Friends? Or enemies? What have they done with her? I bare my teeth and crouch lower to move my weight onto the balls of my feet. I'm ready to attack anyone in my way.
"Where is she?" I snarl.
"Safe." Replies Octavius.

"No where safer than me." I manage to choke out, despite the pressure of the magic holding me back.
"Rhys." He says solemnly.
No, I want to scream. But the magic won't let me. It needs one thing- Feyre. Right now. I don't want to have to kill my own guards...
I manage to project into Octavius' head - I'm hers, she's mine, and she isn't with me which presents a problem.

He doesn't respond, he just stands there sadly until he dares to take a step forward. Unhelpful. But I don't need them to tell me where she is, not really. I don't need direction, sound, touch, or even smell to find my way back to my mate.

Deep inside, I reach for our bond which is only intensified by the rite. It claws up my throat and I let it consume me for a second until I temper it back down. Where will it take me? It's like a string, almost tangible and stretched taught due to the power of the Rite.

Before I can transport myself to her location, I find myself pinned on the floor by the guards I had allocated to myself when I wasn't full of this burning need. I need to reach her, need to hold her and I know exactly where she is- Spring with him.

I growl deep in my throat and it reverberates through my entire body. I allow my wings to appear from the shadows that I usually conceal them in and my nails elongate into deadly talons. The Fae adjust themselves into different position to avoid being pierced by the scythes on my wings. I use their less stable position to my advantage- using pure strength, I spring upwards.

They- and I suppose even I - thought they could hold me. But no one could when it came to Feyre.

~ Tamlin POV ~

We are laying side by side -for once- when Feyre gasps and bolts upright.
"No.." She whispers, stunned. "They're hurting him."

There was only one person she could be talking about- him. I stay alert and keep an eye on her as I had been doing all night whilst she'd slept. Mine. He can't have her.