Growing up in the Hewn City, Morrigan was used to the feeling of horror.

When she was six, her father had chopped off the hands of a servant he believed was stealing from him. When she was eleven, she witnessed a High Fae noble set hounds upon a lesser fae for some unknown indiscretion. When she was fourteen, the High Lord, Rhysand's father, had a male flayed alive in the middle of the throne room. Yes, Mor had known horror all her life. Yet nothing could prepare her was the absolute terror she felt when her father announced that she was to be married to Eris, eldest son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.

When the initial shock had worn off, Mor had pleaded with Keir to reconsider. She was prepared to do anything her father wanted, if only she would not have to endure this her pleas fell on deaf ears, she turned to her cousin for help. However, despite his considerable power, there was nothing Rhysand could do. He was not the High Lord, and had about as much say in the matter as Mor did. Seeing no way out, she had retreated into herself and let the numbness take over.

And so here she was, alone in her room beneath the mountain. Around her, the Court of Nightmares continued on, with its occupants going about their normal routines. Mor wondered at how other people could go on with their lives when it seemed as if hers was over. It was strange. Mor was used to the unrelenting sounds of this court. The whispers, cruel laughter, and the screams of terror were all as familiar to her as the sound of her name. In this moment, however, those sounds had faded away from her. There was only a silence so deep and unyielding that she felt as if she would drown in it.

That is, until she heard a knock on her door.

Mor slowly arose and walked towards the door. She was wary of who could be on the other side. Was it her father, come to demand she stop sulking about and accept her fate? Or was it her mother, ready to give her another lecture about how selfish she was being? Mor didn't know, and if she was being honest with herself, she was tired of it all. Let them spew their poisonous words at her. She would always be able to see through the lies. Her gift was truth, and that was something no one could take away from her. With that in mind, Mor flung open the door, ready to go up against whoever it was, only to stop short at the sight of her cousin.

Rhysand smiled at her. "It occured to me that you could use an escape right about now."

"Does your plan involve faking my death and fleeing to some unknown island in the middle of the ocean?"

"As interesting as that would be, it is not what I had in mind."

Mor raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, what did you have in mind?"

He held out a hand to her. "How would you like to visit our favorite winged warriors for a few days?"

Mor considered his offer. She wasn't particularly fond of the Illyrian camps, but she didn't want to stay trapped beneath this mountain. Even a few days away could give her some peace. So Mor nodded and took her cousin's hand.

As soon as they arrived, Mor was reminded of why the camp was not her favorite place. Besides the horrid weather, Mor also had to deal with the Illyrians' attitudes. They weren't pleased that Rhys had brought her, but they also weren't stupid enough to give Rhys a reason to punish them. And so Mor was forced to cope with their sneers and the thinly veiled disgust in their eyes. Still, it was better than suffering the stares and gossip at court.

And there were some other good things about the camp. Namely, the two Illyrians walking towards her and Rhys. Their welcoming smiles brought her more comfort than she could imagine. Cassian punched Rhys on the arm before throwing an arm around her shoulders. Azriel stood back and offered a quiet hello.

"So what brings you two here?" Cassian asked.

Rhysand and Mor shared a glance before he replied, "We needed a break from court life. It gets rather tedious."

Cassian snorted. "Well, if you were looking for some peace and quiet, you came to the wrong place."

"If I wanted quiet," Mor said, "I wouldn't have chosen to spend time with someone who has yet to learn when to shut their mouth."

Rhys and Azriel chuckled as Cassian glared at them. Swallowing his amusement, Rhys led the rest of them into his mother's house. Mor let out a deep breath after stepping over the threshold. The small stone house wasn't much, especially when compared to the wicked elegance of the Hewn City. However, it felt more comforting than that place ever could. Mor took a seat at the table and regarded the three males in front of her. They were the most important people in her life. She knew they truly cared for her, as she cared for them. They each had their own darkness inside, yet they knew that they were safe from judgement within their little circle. Mor would never be able to express how grateful she was for them.

In the years they had known each other, Mor had come to rely on them for different reasons. Rhys with his unwavering confidence, Cassian with his fierce loyalty, Azriel with his quiet strength. They were her foundation, and without them Mor probably would have crumbled from the stress of her current predicament. Rhys had been right to bring her here. A few days away from the Court of Nightmares, with the only people who really mattered to her, was exactly what she needed.

A few hours later, however, Mor was beginning to rethink her previous assessment. As much as she liked Cassian, Mor was beginning to grow tired of his overbearing personality.

Though her earlier comment about his incessant talking had been a joke, it seemed that Cassian was determined to prove her right. Ever since Rhys and Azriel had been called away, Cassian had been doing her best to get under her skin. A part of Mor knew that he was doing it to distract her from her problems, and she was thankful that he was making the effort. However, a larger part of her was this close to kicking him out of the house.

Deep down, Mor was aware that it wasn't Cassian she was truly upset with. No, the source of her ire were the people in her life who thought they could use her as a pawn in their games. The more she thought about them, the more her anger grew. Who were they to take her choices from her? Who were they to dictate her life? Who were they to tell her who she should be? They were nothing. Keir, Beron, Eris, and anyone else who had a hand in this cursed engagement were nothing to her.

"Hey," Cassian said, interrupting her thoughts. She turned to look at him. His brows were furrowed as he regarded her.

"What?" she muttered.

Cassian sighed. "I can't begin to imagine what you're going through right now, but I want you to know that I'm here for you."

Mor stood up and began to pace across the small sitting room they were in. "You know, when my power first came, I hoped it would make me undesirable in the eyes of those people." She laughed bitterly at herself. "Instead, it put me at the top of everyone's list. Now here I am, hiding in these mountains, trying to think of a way out while also bracing myself for the inevitable."

Mor collapsed on the couch in front of the fireplace. Cassian made his way over to her and sat down beside her. Putting a hand under her chin, he turned her to face him. For once, he was completely serious. "If I could do something to help, I would. I don't care what it is or how much trouble I'd get in. If there was a way to save you, I would do it in a heartbeat."

Mor loosed a shuddering breath and threw her arms around the Illyrian. He wrapped his own around her while she tried to reign in her emotions. As he held her close, an idea began to form in her mind. Her power hadn't made her undesirable to the people who dwelled in the Hewn City, but something else might. She knew how they felt about those they considered to be lesser fae. She knew how they looked down on them, and on the people who associated with them. And suddenly, Mor knew what she had to do to escape a marriage to Eris. She knew there would be dire consequences, but it was her only way out.

And so Mor pulled back from Cassian's embrace so that she could look at him. His eyes were missing their usual joking gleam. Instead, she could see his genuine concern for her. Mor knew he meant it when he said he would do anything to help her. She just hoped what she was about to do would not cause him too much strife. However, she knew he would endure it, if it meant she could be free. With that in mind, Mor leaned in and pressed her lips to his.