A Court of Kingdoms and Ash: An ACOTAR and TOG Crossover

Darkness

Everything was an inky black. That same inky black Feyre had floated within when she had died two years ago. But back then, she had found a tether, a line keeping her soul pinned to Rhysand. It had given her the chance to choose to live.

Now, there was nothing.

Feyre wasn't breathing—she didn't need to breathe. She couldn't feel her body, couldn't feel her heart beating. Feyre wasn't entirely sure whether she even possessed a body anymore, whether she was nothing and everything all at once, or whether she was now only a wisp of a thought, of a memory, of a person long gone.

And so Feyre floated endlessly through the black.

She floated, having faded nearly to nothing.

Only a flash of violet eyes remained.

Rhysand.

That flash became a slow glow, a thrum of life around her—she could feel something pushing against her body, she had a body, and she was aware of a throbbing pain in her leg. The arrow.

Everything seemed distinctly blue and cool and salty, and she slowly took a deep breath—

With a spluttering gasp, Feyre broke the surface of the water. The water... the seawater.

She coughed, water dripping from her lips.

The sun was so bright, and she blinked rapidly as she struggled to stay afloat in the violently churning current.

One that was so powerful, she realized, because she was surrounded by an armada.

One that had begun to sail.

Feyre spluttered as a strong wave nearly pushed her under again. No, no—she needed to get on board one of those ships. She was too weak—much too weak.

Feyre hadn't felt so fragile since she had been mortal. She never realized what her power did to foster her bravery and security. Now, with nearly all of her energy depleted, not a single drop of magic remaining, she felt as if dying would be easy.

What had happened to that power? Where had it gone?

She kicked to remain afloat, swallowing, her throat burning. She attempted to cry out, but... nothing. The screaming had destroyed her voice. So Feyre resorted to waving her arms as ship after ship sailed by, none noticing her as she struggled in the violent waves.

Feyre was growing desperate. This wouldn't be the way she died, it couldn't be. Not after everything.

But she felt herself slowly lose control over her weakening limbs as wave after wave pushed her under. She choked on the water, attempting to summon up some of the powers she had been gifted, attempting to stop the waves or shine a beacon or do anything.

But she could no longer fight. The next wave that crashed into her dragged her down, down, into the inky blackness once more.

◌ ◌ ◌

This was it. Feyre was dead.

She could see her father, her mother, both waiting in whatever realm remained beyond life.

A flash of red hair caught her eye, and Feyre's stomach lurched. She recognized that shade of red. It had haunted her dreams—it still did.

Amarantha stood beside Feyre's parents, grinning wickedly. She plunged a clawed hand into her mother's chest, ripping out her heart, and discarded it on the floor alongside her mother's now unmoving body.

Then, she moved on to her father, who smiled warmly, as if nothing was wrong. Feyre wanted to scream at him, tell him that mother was gone and he was next, tell him to run. But Amarantha snapped his neck, just as Hybern had done...

◌ ◌ ◌

Feyre woke as air forced its way down her throat, and she clawed at her neck, throwing herself into her stomach as she gagged and coughed and retched.

Water poured from her lips, followed by bile. Unable to hold herself up for another moment, she hit the ground, her head landing inches away from the mess she'd created. Her hair probably hadn't been spared.

"Get her up, come on." She heard an impatient female voice mutter a few other words, and strong hands slipped beneath her body, scooping her up.

She wanted to move, but her body was leaden, and her vision swam with darkness. She struggled to breath—her loss of strength was affecting her severely.

"Get her inside, and for the sake of the gods, bring her a healer." That voice was the last thing she heard.