Chapter 1.0

"Rhysand!" echoed a voice, which sounded too cheerful to belong on a young woman's face that was scrunched up in irritation. Midnight black hair, freckles creating constellations across the bridge of her nose, staring at me with deep purple eyes. Standing with both hands on her hips, mocking our mothers pose. I wanted to smile, but a bitter cold crept through me telling me not to. I know I've ignored her time and time again, probably longer than the five minute span that it usually takes for her to scrunch her nose.

"Were you not listening to me?!" She scoffed while I spotted a small twitch at the tip of her left wing. A nervous habit, one our father has been trying to break, making up some excuse that it's going to impact her turning abilities or flight time. Cauldron bless her young soul, without having a care in the world, with her heart on her sleeve, 'More like her wings, than her arm'.

She was a young lady now, daring and loving exactly like our mother. She held her head up high, staring down those who dared to ignore her, hell even those she was just trying to manipulate into doing something for her. Well beyond her years, just her age and inexperience standing in her way from accomplishing everything she set out to do. Despite her rigid and annoyed stance, she attempted to form a darkness around her feet where she stood, the only darkness that seeped through was one of caring, wonder, and youth. I pursed my lips into a sinister smile, I had to just come up with something cunning to say. Though I may be older, she was well past her years developing her powers and finding ways to dig her way claws under my skin.

"Rhysand, fucking whore, are you not listening?"

Reality, I drifted off again into my land of hope. The land of dreams. The land of, if cauldron blessed it, where I wanted to be.

Where my sister stood no more than a mere few seconds ago, Amaratha sat in a throne. Her legs stretched over the arm, the midnight dress she wore slit up the side flashing her entire set of pale legs. Her one arm was stationed on the other arm rest with her head resting on the hand flashing a sinister smile back to me. Her eyes staring at me in anger, disgust and yearning.

No more than a heartbeat later, I countered "Of course." Easing the tension in the air, slightly, but enough for those disgusting longing eyes to be directed at her true victim. A high fae, unsure of his decent or court he belong to, kneeled down before the witch, his hands outstretched palms facing up in surrender. Groveling, when did the high fae have to grovel? When this undeserving, red headed demon decided to agree with Hybern and kill those who had power, of course it was kept in check, and overall had control of this world. Only providing one man, beast, the opportunity to gain it back. What has he done with these past 40 some years? Absolutely nothing. Which terrified me even more. What if I've never seen them again? That thought process is not going to get me anywhere fast. That process of thought will only lead me to inner turmoil and despair.

I shuddered, as if the stale air had brushed my neck. My mask would fall, only to be shattered wholly and completely if I allowed that to happen. 'I would never give her that satification'

I took a deep breath, squeezing the bridge of my nose between my two fingers letting out a low chuckle acting like I was paying attention to his begging words, 'How long has this poor man been speaking for?'

To be honest, I've missed everything that has happened in this room since I've stepped in. Whatever this man was saying, pleading, begging for it's all going to be for nothing in less than a few simple minutes.

I've plotted my escape twice now, probably more, just while I was standing in this room. It's this place, my dungeon under the ground. The inability to see true, unhindered darkness underneath a starry sky, to feel fresh air brush against my skin… I've been at the whim of this vile woman for nights now. Only to tend to her needs, wants and desires. She likely was digging her talons in harder now to see if she could rile my feathers, so close to the end date of our doom. A few years, is nothing but a blink in my life time. Yet it has felt like I've been collecting the nails for my coffin ever since.

"Will you just kill him, I'm bored." Amarantha mused, not even flinching only a small twinkle in her eye showing that she was at least a bit interested in what was going to happen to the fae.

The lanky monster lurked forward, trying to blend into the dark backdrop of shadows before approaching the high fae. Clawing his way towards the poor groveling fool. 'Pitiful' was my only response to his movements as he attempted to adapt and make the darkness his own. He moved against the grain, didn't follow what the shadows showed him… the true path of least resistance.

"Stop!" her voiced purred, dripping with venom. The only movement was the raising of her free hand, waving off the Attor without a seconds notice. "Rhysand, would you do the pleasure? I want to see someone squirm today."

I just smile, and purred "Of course." Again, I will have to try again another day.

(I will continue this scene in the next chapter, I have ran out of time today :P)