Daylight

Chapter 51

It was just before dusk when they returned to Velaris, winnowing to the rooftop patio of Rhys's townhouse. The house was warded against anyone outside of Rhysand's Inner Circle winnowing directly into it.

"I'll bet you anything Cassian and Rhys are waiting like vultures downstairs," Elain said.

"Anything?" Lucien's eyebrows rose suggestively and his eye gleamed with mischief.

"Oh, go on," she rolled her eyes, pushing him toward the stairs. "Rascal."

Elain shrieked as he pinched her waist. They paused in her room long enough for her to change—after she made the valid point that if they made their grand reentrance in the same clothes they left in, the teasing would be even worse. They could hear raucous laughter coming from downstairs as Lucien wove his fingers between Elain's and led her down into the sitting room.

"Hey!" Cassian roared with delight. "Look who's back!"

Rhys, Azriel, Mor, and Feyre looked up, all of them smiling. There was a platter of meats and cheeses on the low-lying table in the center of the room. Clearly, the group was having one of the informal, lazy nights that Lucien had come to love.

Mor rose from an oversized armchair, gesturing for them to take it, as she handed Elain her own glass of wine. She poured herself a new one and squeezed between Cassian and Azriel on the sofa.

"Cabin still standing?" Cassian teased.

Elain settled into the chair while Lucien sat on the armrest. She leaned against him and smirked, "Wouldn't you love to know?"

Feyre choked on her wine and gave her sister a look of surprise. Elain winked at her.

"Where's Nesta and the tiny ancient one?" Lucien wondered.

"They should be back any minute," Mor answered, trying to keep Cassian from stealing her glass and taking a generous sip of wine. "They went to look for a specific type of wine Nesta likes. Since someone has a drinking problem."

"Moderation is for quitters," Cassian pronounced.

"Boozehound," Mor muttered with a bemused grin.

"So, who won?" Lucien asked.

"Hmm? Won what?" Rhys asked innocently, though his smile all but gave him away.

"Oh, don't play coy," Elain simpered. "The bet you barbarians had about how long we'd be up at that cabin."

"Oh, that bet." Rhys picked a piece of nonexistent lint off his jacket.

Lucien nudged Elain. Told you they had a bet.

"Barbarians," Cassian repeated, clicking his tongue. "Such a harsh word. You really shouldn't talk about your sisters like that."

"My—" Elain gave Feyre a look of disbelief, but her sister wasn't looking at her. Feyre seemed very interested in her fingernails all of a sudden.

"Well, let's just see, shall we?" Cassian said, pulling out a folded slip of paper from underneath one of Tarquin's blood rubies. "How long were you there? Four days?"

"Not quite four," Elain said, looking up at Lucien for confirmation. "Three and a half?"

Lucien was taken aback by how utterly unconcerned Elain was discussing this. He'd expected her to blush and smile coquettishly, telling the rest of them it was none of their business. Not that he was about to give them a detailed account of everything that went on in the cabin. He'd take those memories to his grave before he shared them with anyone.