Feysand Wedding

Chapter Six

Rhys's P.O.V.

As we sail past the cloudless sky and up towards the House of Wind, I do my best to glare at both my brothers. It's a struggle, considering that they have me locked in a death grip, but I make do.

"I am your High Lord," I half-heartedly snarl, trying to struggle free. "I could have you thrown in jail for this act of, uh, treason!"

Azriel ignores me, instead swerving his head to look at Cassian. "Should we gag him?"

"If he doesn't shut it," Cassian replies, angling slightly to bank around the balcony.

They toss me unceremoniously on the carpet in one of the many rooms and walk past the columns of the patio. They emerge a minute later holding a large basket.

"What's that?" I say skeptically, eying the covered wicker. Cassian rolls his eyes.

"Poison," he deadpans. "We've finally decided to get it over with, but we decided to show you beforehand so you could prepare your deathbed speech."

"Cassian," Azriel says, "stop being dramatic." He turns to me. "It's lunch."

I nod, brushing myself off before pulling myself off the carpet. "Was it necessary to haul me up here?"

Cassian shrugs, tossing me a bottle of wine that comes out of nowhere. I catch it in one fluid motion. As I'm reading the label, a small movement catches my eye. It's small, almost impossible to pick up, but I notice it anyway.

I watch as Nesta emerges from a doorway. She appears to be deep in thought, so much so that she hasn't even noticed we're here. The air in the room suddenly seems a lot more stuffy. My eyes slide to Cassian as he stiffens, his eyes flashing for a minute before he puts on a lazy grin and strides over.

Nesta nearly runs into his chest, the book she's carrying tumbling to the ground. Cassian deftly snatches it up before she can grab it.

"Watcha reading, Nes?" he drawls, using the nickname he knows she hates.

She glares at him wordlessly, her eyes like a frozen glacier. She holds out a hand for the book, but Cassian just smirks at her. I look pleadingly at Azriel, but he just shakes his head. The meaning is clear: better to leave them be.

Cassian has yet to give Nesta the book. She narrows her eyes once again, then suddenly lunges. I'm surprised her hands even graze the book before Cassian dances out of her reach.

"That all you got?" he dares. I wince at the fire that ignites in Nesta's eyes at those words. She lunges again. Cassian smoothly sidesteps her, and her foot catches on the hem of her dress. She stumbles, her face red and radiating anger.

"Give it back, you bastard," she hisses, glowering at him with such ferocity that I'm shocked Cassian hasn't burst into flame.

He instead flips it open, holding it at his eye level so she has no hope of reaching it. " 'He was so in love with her could barely breath, wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through her hair, to hold her close to him. It was this burning, all-consuming love that made him reckless, irrational, jealous of the very air that dared caress her...' " he quotes from the page, putting on a dramatic voice. Nesta blushes, clenching her hands at her sides. Cassian leans down to address her, his breath grazing her ear. Azriel and I are attempting to look at anything other than this. "Seems like the male in this book should spout less poetry and just kiss the damn girl already."

"Well, he's a man of taste," Nesta shoots back, angling her head up to snarl in his ear. "I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand."

Cassian's eyes narrow at that. Out of nowhere, he throws his arm back and chucks the book like a flying disc across the room, aiming it perfectly so that it slides under one of couches there. Nesta watches it arc, arms folded over her chest.