A Court of Ash and Fire

Chapter Eleven

Aelin screamed as she clung onto the winged male's arms for dear life, the wound in her side tearing and stretching with agonising ferocity. "Put me down!"

The man ignored her, flying back up onto the training yard. She now recognised him as a male from the mansion; his name was Azriel, or something like that.

Releasing his hold on her underarms, he threw her onto the mud. She whimpered as the impact shook her whole body. She glared at him and spat mud onto the ground.

Then, she was surrounded by winged warriors, including the males from the first meeting. Rhysand advanced on her, his wound already half-healed. "You're done," he said, and grabbed her underarm. Aelin yelped as they spun into darkness, shoving its way into her eyes, her ears. She pushed against the pressure building in her head as they appeared in that cell, the hole she had made still in the wall.

This time, however, Rhysand lead her down deeper into the dungeons. She stumbled on a crack in the stone, and she hissed as her cut moved. "Some medical attention would be nice," she seethed, blood leaking from her lip from when she had bit it to drown her screams.

"Not just yet," Rhysand said, his voice rough. It was a far cry from the sleek and calm male she had first met. He paused outside what seemed to be an ordinary wall, before they both vanished in a swirl of darkness. When the shadows cleared, Aelin found herself in a pitch black room, with no exit.

Rhsyand released her arm and shoved her deeper into the room. She crashed into the padded walls, turning with a snarl to Rhysand. He leaned against the wall opposite. "This has never been used before," he said, looking around. "Hopefully this is the first and last time."

And, without further ado, disappeared

~

Aelin ran to the wall he had gone through, slamming her fists against the foam. There was no way she would be able to shift into Fae form to get out of this. She blindly felt all around the padded walls, searching for a weak spot, anything. But there was nothing.

She screamed and she cried and she raged.

But they didn't let her out.

Defeated, she curled up into a corner, tears leaking out of her eyes. She tucked her knees in tight, squeezing her eyes shut. In that impenetrable darkness, she dreamt of Rowan, of his beautiful, beautiful face. Of her closest friends and family, and of her subjects. And last of all, she dreamt of the free, rolling hills of Terrasen.

~

"She's in the physic ward," Rhys said, appearing in the foyer with a tired expression. I stayed in my comfy seat, my Illyrian leathers cool against my skin. He came and sat beside me, massaging his temples. "Hopefully that's the first and last time we have to use it."

I took his hand, tugging him up to stand with me. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up."

He nodded tiredly and followed me upstairs to our shared bedroom. I closed the door, and he flopped onto the black bedspread, scrubbing his face with his hands. I went into our wardrobe and grabbed him a new shirt, striding back into the main room. I gently sat onto the bed beside him and began to unbutton his tunic. It fell away to reveal the blood stains on his side. He let me slid his arms into the smooth material, let me do up his buttons. "This girl is one of a kind," he said quietly, just as I finished up his collar. "And not in a good way."

I smoothed away invisible wrinkles on his shoulders. "We'll deal with her," I said, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Somehow."