DISCONTINUED A Court Of Blood And Night (Tog & ACOTAR crossover)

Preface pt. 1

She didn't know how long it had been since the day she'd been separated from her court. Since she'd been whipped and shoved into a coffin made of iron. Since she'd been dragged away by her aunt, the Queen of Doranelle. Maeve.

The days passed in a blur of pain and sound and moments when darkness was interrupted by a little bit of light. A flash of blinding light that reminded her of the fire that coursed through her blood. What was the point of having her fire if she couldn't defend herself from Maeve and Cairn? But she wouldn't have fought, anyway. Not if she wanted to keep her court safe. Keep Elide safe from the cruelty the Maeve had forced upon her.

Her vision, blurred by weariness and pain, finally focused on the blood that spattered on the ground around her. Her blood. She knew if she looked back, she'd see Cairn standing behind her with that damned whip, readying himself to deliver another blow. An unknown Fae on each side grasped her arms, holding her in place-- unwavering in the face of her pain.

Her back was ravaged and broken. The beautiful tattoos Rowan had so carefully etched into her skin, the names of her dead, ruined. She grieved silently night after night over that. It was one of the few things she could hold on to in this nightmare her gods-damned aunt had dragged her into. One of the few things that could remind her of Rowan, destroyed. Hatred made her lip curl over her teeth and she silently snarled.

There was a crack, and pain sliced through her back, right between her shoulder blades. She lurched forward involuntary, a cry of pain escaping her clenched teeth. Tears blurred her vision once more, and she felt the unmistakable warmth of blood dripping down her back, agitating her wounds. That warmth was so different from the cold iron collar Maeve kept around her neck so she couldn't heal quickly.

"Cairn, stop for a moment," a voice ordered, and she stiffened. Gods, she hated that voice. And she hated that she had grown scared of that voice. Light footsteps sounded as the source of that voice approached her.

My name is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, and I will not be afraid. My name is Aelin Ash--

A hand grasped her jaw just as a figure appeared in Aelin's line of sight. Her head was forced to tilt upward, and Aelin met the cold, onyx gaze of her aunt. My name is Aelin--

"Are you going to listen to me, now, Aelin?" Maeve spoke like a mother would to an angry child. "Or are we going to go through this again?"

Breathing hard, Aelin mustered up enough strength to spit in her aunt's face. Maeve's brows rose slightly. "I see," she said as she carefully wiped away the saliva from her cheek. She looked up, over Aelin's head. She gave a nearly imperceptible nod, letting go of Aelin's jaw.

As Maeve stepped back, Aelin took a deep breath. For Elide. For Dorian. For Chaol and Manon and Aedion and--

Crack! Aelin couldn't hold back the cry. Her nails dug into her palms, breaking the skin. But she wouldn't do it. She wouldn't use her fire with the Wyrdkeys-- especially not like this. Not under such cruelty. She met Maeve's gaze and grinned viciously. The Queen didn't yet realize that Manon had the keys, anyway. She would not break the Queen of Terrasen and make her do what she wanted. Not today, not ever.

For Aedion and Lysandra and Evangeline.

The whip cracked again, and Aelin felt bile rise in her throat. She forced it back down, but the next blow had it rising back up again, and she coughed up burning, clear liquid.

For Rowan. For Terrasen.

The whip cracked once more, and Aelin couldn't hold back her scream.

When she woke up, all she could see was darkness, and all she heard was roaring wind.