Answered Dreams (ACOTAR | ACOMAF | ACOWAR)

Chapter ☆ Six

Feyre's jaw clenched tight as she watched Rhys gather his clothes, leave the room, and shut the door without a single glance back. She stared at the door for another fifteen minutes after he left, uncertain whether to run after him, throw something at the closed door, scream, or shred every pillow on the bed.

She finally decided to get out of bed in her own growling fury, marching over to the armoire, and began searching - and inevitably finding - a pair of soft night clothes to wear. The pants were a loose comfort, and the shirt fell right to her midriff. Once dressed, she trudged back over to the bed and hugged a pillow to her chest, staring at the door again. As if she'd will him to come back, or her stare was enough to keep him away.

His mate.

She was his mate.

And he didn't tell her.

But what if he had told her all those months ago when he brought her to the Night Court for the first time? When he saved her from a doomed marriage- and in turn, saved her from herself.

Would it have changed anything?

She closed her eyes, letting a tear fall down her cheek. In those months since she left, she was healing, but only because Rhys had saved her- only because of him. And she had just thrown it all back in his face with her anger.... when it was she who she needed to be angry at. She was stupid, and selfish, and could barely see that which was right in front of her. He had given her his everything, and she was a coward.

And after all these months, everything she felt... she never told him, but instead let him leave, thinking she hated him.

She stared at the door for an hour longer before she finally mustered the courage to leave the room, creep quietly down the stairs, and linger in the doorway of the sitting room, where Rhys said he'd be spending the night.

But he wasn't there.

Feyre leaned her head against the threshold of the empty sitting room, closing her eyes, and ever so gently reached down the bond, that living tether between them, just to ease her mind that he hadn't done anything drastic, like jumping off of the rooftop balcony. Even with the wings.

And there he was.

Letting out a sigh, she grabbed a bottle of one of Rhys' bottles of wine and two glasses and followed him up to the rooftop patio. She tried to clear her head as she climbed each step, because there would be no coming back down the same way she went up.

The air was chill, but she didn't notice - all she was able to focus on was Rhysand - her mate - standing with his arms braced against the railing. She'd let him stay there as long as he needed, so she sat herself at the iron table, opening the bottle and pouring the two glasses. A peace offering, she decided, as she took one for herself and sipped.

After a minute he finally turned to face her, but she knew he was well-aware of her presence before she even stepped onto that roof. So, Rhys took his usual seat on the opposite side of the table from Feyre. And as he sat, his eyes traveled back to her, a silent question within them as he reached for his glass of wine.

She took another deep sip from her own glass as she continued to look out over Velaris. Feyre made sure to keep her mental shields up to the best of her abilities, though she knew what she sent down the bond was still untested. Be that as it may, she didn't want him to know any of what she was going to say before she voiced it herself. She was still trying to find the words even as she said softly, with her eyes still on the city, "I don't hate you, Rhysand."

Rhys kept his gaze on her, and she kept her gaze on Velaris. And no sooner did he finish his glass of wine did he summon a bottle of whiskey. Placing the empty wine glass aside, he began pouring himself a two fingers of the liquor and took a sip from that, too, before he finally spoke.