A Court of Blood and Glory

Checkmate

Rhysand

No. No not that, anything but that.
And he knew it. He knew that I couldn't bear to live without my wings. And that was exactly why he asked.
I looked to Feyre, trying to find a way of getting us both out without losing anything. I couldn't. No matter what I did, no matter how fast I was, Lucien could slash her throat faster.
No. No Lucien wouldn't hurt her, would he? Could I call his bluff and risk Feyre's life? 
"Well, Rhysand? What will it be? Wings or Feyre?"
He knew. He had to have figured it out. That would explain the knife, too; he knew that I would do anything to stop Feyre from being hurt.
"Why do you want my wings?" There was no point in denying I had wings, he'd seen them before. I needed time.
"When Feyre came here her powers manifested as wings. Illyrian wings. I wanted them removed, of course, as I couldn't have my bride look like some lesser fae, or some half breed whore, could I?" I flinched at his words, and he noticed. He knew what he was saying, he knew how it would hurt me. "You are, you know. Whether Amarantha is here or not you will always be a whore."
I felt nothing but rage, and I knew it showed on my face. Tamlin was trying to make me do something, to lash out, so I had to calm down, or I wouldn't be able to get out.
"Luckily Lucien talked me out of it. He convinced me that I shouldn't take Feyre's wings, because I wouldn't take pride in looking at them every day. He convinced me to take your instead, because then I could look at them and see a trophy, a prize, to show how I bested the most powerful High Lord in all of Prythian."
I looked to Feyre, the fear in her eyes for me, not for herself. "Why?" I asked Tamlin."Why put a knife to Feyre's throat if you want her as your bride?" I had to know if he knew, if he had put everything together.
"I don't want to have her anymore. I don't want to have another male's mate for my wife." There it was. That word. Mate. "Especially yours, Rhysand." He knew.
The shock on Feyre's face told me enough, told me that she didn't know.
I had known since I first laid eyes on her, but I had not wanted to force it on her, had been willing to suppress the bond if she wished to be with Tamlin. But even though I tried to, I couldn't leave her with him. Not when he was killing her. It was why I would give up my wings, because I wouldn't live with myself if my mate died. 
And Tamlin knew it.
"How could you tell?" I asked him, trying to appear amused by the whole ordeal.
"It was obvious to everyone, but it was confirmed by my daemati. You trained Feyre to shield her mind, and they couldn't get through her shield at first, but Feyre couldn't hold them up as I raped her. As I made her scream and cry. Every. Night." He knew what he was doing. It hurt me so much to hear of what he'd done to her. "My daemati looked into her mind each night, and saw everything that happened between you two, saw every little thought Feyre has had, saw everything. They pieced it together bit by bit."
Every night. How had Feyre not given up yet? When I'd sold myself to Amarantha I'd known what I was doing, and I'd done it willingly, but Feyre hadn't had a say in it, hadn't been able to stop him. How had she retained her will to keep going?
But then I realised that she hadn't. I could see it in her eyes, in the way she held herself. She'd already given up. She was a shell of her former self, and she had tried to end it.
"So what will it be, Rhysand? Time is not on your side here."
He knew what I would chose, and so did Feyre.
"Rhys! Rhys stop, you don't need to do this, please! " And I knew that she would rather die than see me without my wings. "Please!" She begged me, begged Tamlin, begged Lucien. Begged anyone to stop, to let her die to save me.
Feyre cried, screamed, pushed against Lucien with the little strength she had left.
Could he really hurt her, though? Could Lucien hurt his friend?
Tamlin saw me question his bluff, and began to move towards Feyre, grasping her arse as he licked her tears away. "I wonder how beautiful, how powerful, my children would be if I had them with you, Feyre." 
No. Not that. He may not slash her throat, but he would make her sire is children, would hurt her in other ways. 
And I couldn't let that happen. 
So I knelt.
And I let my wings take form behind me, spreading them wide for Tamlin to take.

Mor

"We should have gone with him." I said for the tenth time. "Who knows what he'll do in there?"
"Mor, this is Rhys we're talking about. He's the most powerful fae in all of Prythian's history. He will be fine." Cassian was speaking to himself as much as me.
"I know. I just can't seem to shake this feeling that something has gone horribly wrong."
"Look, it's only been twenty five minutes, and Rhys said to go in at thirty five, so we will wait 'til thirty five minutes have passed and then go in after him, but I doubt it will come to that. Rhys will be back any minute now, his mate in his arms." 
I knew that I should calm down, but it was too strong a feeling. I just hoped he was alright.

Feyre

"No!" I was screaming, crying, pleading. I didn't care. "Tamlin, please! I'll do anything!" My mate. I couldn't believe that I hadn't seen it when everyone else had. Yet Rhys hadn't told me, but I couldn't dwell on that now. All I cared about was saving Rhys, saving his wings.
Yet there was only one way to save him. For me to die.
If Rhys lost his wings he would lose all will to live. If he lost me he would be devastated, beyond devastated, but we hadn't accepted the mating bond yet, so he would still be able to continue. So if my death was the only way to save him I would gladly die.
Trying to be discrete, I pulled away from Lucien, dropping my head to push the knife into my neck, and then shaking my head, pretending to be sobbing, but really slicing open an artery, biting my tongue to stop myself screaming out in pain.
The blood began to flow thick and fast, soaking the low neckline of my dress, changing the pale green to a crimson colour. I could already feel myself getting weaker, and I only hoped to bleed out fast enough, before anyone saw, before Rhys lost his wings.
I couldn't heal myself, not with the manacles on my wrist.
No one could see me as I bled out.
No one cared as I died.
No one came to save me. Good.
I welcomed the darkness as it rushed up to claim me.

Rhysand

The moment I knelt down Tamlin had his sentries chain me down, holding me still so that Tamlin could take my wings. Yet just as Tamlin took hold of them Feyre fell to the ground, blood pooling around her, her dress already soaked in it. How had I not noticed her? She was dying, I could feel it, could hear her heartbeat getting slower and slower. 
I pulled against the chains, trying to reach her, trying to save her, but I couldn't break the chains. Couldn't reach her. 
Tamlin noticed my distress and followed  my gaze, rushing to Feyre as Lucien knelt down and picked her up.
"Healer! Someone bring me a healer!" Tamlin yelled. No matter what he said he still loved her, in his own unique way. An older woman came forward, her hands glowing as she ran them over Feyre's neck. She looked so small, so fragile. I couldn't hear her heart, but there was a sigh of relief from the healer. She was alive. My mate was still alive, and she would be ok.
Yet when she woke up no one took her away to recover. No. Tamlin wanted her to watch this all unfold.
As Feyre noticed where she was she began to cry, not from pain or shock, but from the fact that she was alive. She'd tried to die so that I wouldn't have to chose, she'd tried to make the decision for me. But for her I would lose my wings.
I kept my eyes on her face as Lucien picked her up, holding her close to him but no longer needing the knife to hold her in place, no longer needing to make me comply. 
I didn't look at anyone other than Feyre as Tamlin walked behind me.
I kept my eyes on hers as Tamlin grasped my wings, one in each hand.
"These will look so nice on my wall, next to your dead mother's and sister's." Fucking little shit.
Feyre still cried, and I felt tears slip down my cheeks as well. I didn't want her to watch this.
"Close your eyes, Feyre darling." She didn't. She couldn't.
Tamlin pulled my wings taught, laughing as he ripped them from my back.