MONSTERS MADE

The High Lord let out a chuckle, "To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Although his words were polite, his tone was flat. Lifeless.

And now, with Uncle Lucien's arm around her shoulders, she remembered why. Naturally, Lucien had been her first victim of interrogation. The conclusion was that Rhys and Feyre - as he'd called them - had a son. Nyx. He'd gone missing when he was only four or five. All this time later, they'd never found him.

They'd even held a funeral for him. To get closure. To survive a wound that never quite would heal.

But they'd never found his body.

Rhysand's violet gaze was unnerving. Unrelenting. Aurora shivered at the familiarity of it.

Aurora looked at them. They gazed back at her, relaxed, unknowing of the fire she was about to spew at them.

Cauldron save them all.

"It concerns your son." Aurora said. She did not shout, but the words echoed in the silent room.

Rhysand blinked at her. Once. Twice.

He moved so fast, he was suddenly in front of her. Teeth inches from her face. Rhysand growled, "How. Fucking. Dare. You."

Aurora gazed back at him unflinchingly. "I would not speak it, if I did not believe it to be true."

Rhysand opened his mouth but halted when a slender, female hand gripped his shoulder.
The High Lady of the Night Court stepped next to her mate, essentially putting herself between them.

"What exactly are you saying, girl?" Feyre whispered.

Aurora blinked at the color of her eyes. The shape of her mouth. She felt her mouth drop open. "Cauldron, he's got your eyes."

Aurora sensed the danger in that moment and blurted out, "Your son is alive."

Feyre took her hand and guided her towards the seating area. "Tell me everything."