I am so very sorry for all the grammatical errors in the previous chapter. I rewrote the entire thing at like two in the morning so there's a few stupid errors, though there'll probably be a lot of stupid errors in this chapter as well.
"She will understand." She wouldn't understand. She certainly wouldn't understand.
"I mean, you are her mate. She will get that. She can't really choose Tamlin over her own mate, can she? He's so…melodramatic." I shook my head at her fast.
"I told you what I did to her. Twice. She won't forgive that. And, I'm assuming Tamlin never really explained the beauty of the mate connection after he practically tried raping her after the Calanmai and blamed it on the mating ceremony instead of taking responsibility for his actions," I said bitterly. Mor rolled her eyes. "Trust me, being my 'mate' probably won't attract her at all."
"Then tell her everything, then," Mor said, her hands on her hips. "You said you didn't want to imprison her here. You said it was wrong. So give her the option. Don't just send her back. She's not stupid, you know. She's not a child. If you're right – if she really went through what you say, she won't fancy being trapped in the countryside with Mr. Mastering-The-Art-of-Being-Useless." I threw my hands in the air angrily, black wisps of smoke rising from my fingers.
"I have to. I don't have a choice. She thinks she's in love with Tamlin," I said, but then the pain ached in my voice when I looked down. Maybe she really was. "But, I'll let her wake up first." I had laid her on the couch after Mor had calmed me down and tucked a warm blanket over her. I tried to give her some distance, a few feet away, but I couldn't stop looking at her.
"I never liked Tamlin, you know. He tried flirting with me once at a ball, and maybe I don't have a thing for blonde guys but he lacked personality to no end. Absolutely boring."
"And morals," I added, coolness dripping from my voice. "He'll break her, you know. You didn't see her under that mountain. She was invincible – stronger than any warrior that I have seen in centuries. It'll intimidate him. He'll push it out of her." When I looked back at Mor, her eyes were gleaming with emotions. I could tell I hit a spot, maybe a spot I shouldn't have hit. While only a moment ago, she was staring at Feyre like she was a broken doll, she was now looking at her with desperation.
"Fay-Ruh. Beautiful," she whispered. "You can't let her go, Rhys. You at least have to give her a shot. She'll die there. Trust me, I know the feeling." I could feel her stare as I daringly stroked Feyre's cheek, her skin cold as ice.
"You really love her," Mor said aloud, almost in disbelief. "It's not just the mating, you love her too." I looked at her, my eyes burning.
"Yes, I do," I said in a small voice. "I've lost everything and she saved me. I don't want to lose her. Especially to Tamlin."
"Well, you have three options then. You can send her back to Tamlin's stupid estate and risk her being emotionally abused," Mor said, though she said it in such a tone that she forbade it. "You can, on the other hand, tell her everything and maybe, just maybe, she'll understand. Or, you can take away some of the emotion she has towards you. Just manipulate her mind for a millisecond and take away the so-called hatred that you swear she has for you, so that she'll trust you when you say that you're her mate." I looked at her, half in disgust and half in surprise that Mor, of all people, condoned mind manipulation. She shrugged casually, though my look was piercing.
"If it takes her away from the situation than it's worth it," She said. "Take it from a person who has gone through it. Sometimes bad things have to be done to reach tranquility." I had to stop myself from saying anything cruel.
"You know, you always had this thing of underestimating yourself," she went on. "You are loveable, Rhysand. I love you, Azriel loves you, Cass loves you, Amren loves you. Your people love you. Boo-fucking-hoo. You did some bad things. We all have. Who says she won't forgive you?" As I looked at her, my eyes reaching for an answer, an idea rang in my head.
"I have an idea," I said, my voice shaking. "But I need your help."
~discidium~
"You fucking kidnapped me." Her words echoed through the house loudly, shaking me awake. It was probably three in the morning, and she had finally awoken from her beautiful state of sleep. I, on the other hand, chose to take the smarter path – falling asleep in the recliner only a few feet away from her, just in case she tried to plotting a way to kill me. I figured she might-as-well have her one shot at the ordeal, hoping that maybe it would get the anger out of her. But now she was hovering on top of me, glowering in anger, probably already deciding that death was too merciful for me.
I rubbed my eyes tiredly, trying to convince myself that my heartbeat wasn't going fast.
"Oh, Feyre, darling, you're awake," I said, a lazy smile on my face. "As much as I love you waking me up like this-" I glanced at her thin nightgown, now shriveled and breezing up, "-I think we both are too tired to play, agreed?" Her hands, wrapped in tight balls, were shaking.
"Take me back," she said, her words cold as ice. "Now." I pretended to consider it, at least amusing her anger.
"Well, see, saying that your beloved Tamlin is yet to send me a message declaring war, I'm not exactly in a rush," I told her, smirking.
"Our bargain hasn't started yet!" She said, though there was a sense of uncertainty in her voice as she looked at the tattoo on her arm. Clearly, she was so desperate when she got it at the time, that she really didn't bother quizzing me for the detailed terms of our deal.
"It's a bit cold in here," I said, noticing the goosebumps on her scarred skin, "If you're uncomfortable sleeping down here, I have a room-"
"Really?" She said, her eyes wide with fierce, searing hot hatred. It nearly made me wince. "You're making such disgusting jokes, now of all times? When will you realize that I will never, ever-"
"Your own room," I said snappily. "Cauldron, I'm not a monster, Feyre. You're not here to be my sex slave." Though she was still angry, her body loosened.
"Then why am I here? Are you still testing Tamlin? Do you really want to go to war with him, Rhysand?" She asked through her clenched teeth. I waved my hand at her dismissively and let out an amused chuckle.
"War? With Tamlin? It would last ten minutes," I said with a proud huff. "Trust me, if I was going to waste such valuable resources then I would've wiped him off the map years ago." And that wasn't a lie, I had considered it many times because of the cruelty he had committed against my family but Amarantha was always my first target. But I could sense that she was crumbling inside, breaking, so I didn't continue. I sat up immediately, as if waiting for her to fall to the floor. I knew it would end this way – I should've just given her back. I shouldn't have listened to Mor. She was too vulnerable. I was too vulnerable.
"Look," I said softly, trying not to show the desperation in my voice. "When I came back, I realized that I have some issues on my plate." Her eyes widened, sarcasm already on her tongue. I sighed.
"Oh, really? I thought you were absolutely sane all this time – especially when you humiliated me in front of my lover's friends over and over at the balls and nearly killed me on several occasions," she said coolly. My eyes narrowed, though I felt the guilt weigh on me like a legion of dead bodies.
"I saved your life," I reminded her cruelly, watching her wince. "If you think I'm horrible, maybe I should send you back to your beloved Tamlin. You can go ahead and ask him what wonderful things he's been up to for the last few centuries." Her mouth opened, but then closed. She looked at me curiously, as if tempted to ask, but then she shook her head tiredly.
"I trust, Tamlin," she said, though her words were empty. Apparently she wasn't lying when she said the mountain had changed her.
"Oh, you're curious now?" I taunted. "Well, before you try killing yourself by running away, you should probably look in your room. I, once again, saved the day, darling." She squinted at me, unsure of my words. Her hands, thankfully, had stopped shaking and the hatred in her eyes seemed to die down. Maybe she had finally noticed that I no longer had the motivation to look at her like she was a pathetic animal, that I was trustful.
"Tamlin will kill you," she said, her words filled with solid fact. "He will kill you once he finds you." My eyebrows went up daringly, trying not to look too amused. After all, I did want her to start liking me, and I figured that continuing to insult her lover wouldn't help.
"And why don't you kill me?" I said, jumping up to my feet and going nose to nose with her. She sucked in a breath, but she didn't move. "You don't need him, you know. You're strong." She stared at me, looking into my violet eyes as her blue-grey eyes resembled fire. For a moment, I felt that pull again, that storm of emotions that took me over. I tried to remain calm, steady.
"What's in the room?" She demanded, and I felt like the proximity was getting to her now because her cheeks began to rush with redness. I didn't want to look into her thoughts, though – I wanted her to tell me. To say that our connection, our bond, was far from normal.
"I guess you're going to have to check," I said erotically, our lips barely touching as I leaned in. She pushed herself away quickly, rushing up the stairs. I followed her swiftly, trying not to seem so eager but anxious none the less.
"It's the first door on the right," My voice purred. "Don't act too excited, I don't need a puddle-" But my words were interrupted by a half-gasp, half-scream. I raced up quickly, a fear running through me that maybe she was hurt.
"Feyre, are you-" But then I saw her, one hand gripping the doorway as if she was afraid she'll fall and another on her stomach. I followed her eyes cautiously to the figure laying onto the bed. I watched as she gained the strength to slowly walk towards the bed, fear filling her with every step. I, on the other hand, stood there in horror as I looked at the figure's body at a distance.
The figure, fragile but almost as beautiful as Feyre herself, would've looked dead if her eyes weren't open. I noticed that there were bruises and bloodied marks all over her body, some looking like claw marks. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I looked at Mor, who was suddenly next to me, watching the scene sternly with her arms crossed and tilting her head. Mor had told me that she found the girl, but she had conveniently forgot to bring up the fact that she was a bloodied pulp.
This wasn't the plan.
I whispered in her ear quickly, "Did you do this? I told you, I didn't want either of them touched. I didn't want to do this dirty. I didn't-"
"He beat me." It came out of the figure. "That-that piece of filth beat me." Feyre whirled around towards Mor and I with that look in her eyes – that look of murder. She inched closer and I, in surprise, went in front of Mor protectively.
"Feyre, let my cousin, Mor, explain. I would never allow-" But my words were cut off.
"I'll kill you," she whispered, her eyes darting to Mor as well, despite not having the proper introduction to her. "I'll kill-"
"It wasn't him," the figure interrupted, with an unusual sense of sharpness in her voice. "It was-It was-"
"It was who?" Feyre's voice was hoarse, rushing towards her. "Nesta, who was it?"
"It was Tamlin. That faerie you loved," the girl said, filled with such unneeded anger towards Feyre that I almost jumped into the conversation, but her words – that Tamlin, that spineless scum, did this- shocked me into silence. "When he couldn't find you, Tamlin thought you came to our house to say goodbye for the last time. He was dazed, crazy looking. And when you weren't there with us, he thought-he thought that I hurt you. He thought I made you leave him. He then told me I was a monster, resenting you even though you had done so much for me. I tried telling him that you deserted us but-but he kept telling me that when you weren't in his bed, that you must've left to say goodbye to us for the final time because you-you are immortal now, and when you arrived that I must've done something to you." I heard Feyre choke, no longer growing closer to her.
Oh, Cauldron, I said to myself. I did this. This was my fault.
"He left me there in the kitchen to die…and then she saved me." The girl, Nesta, looked at Mor piercingly, partially in suspicion but with a hint of respect.
Feyre shook her head fast. "That can't be, Tamlin would never do that. Tamlin wouldn't ever take out his anger on my sisters. It was you, Rhysand. Only the Night Court would-"
"Desperation makes us do terrible, terrible things." The words came out of Mor's mouth. Finally, Feyre locked eyes with her crossly. For a moment, I thought Feyre would try attacking her, killing her, but Feyre's eyes merely hardened. At least she didn't think we were lying fully.
"What happened to Elain, then?" Her trembling voice demanded, talking to Mor only. The emotionless look in Mor's eyes shattered, as if she knew of her failure all along and was hoping that she wouldn't have to speak about it now.
"The boy with Tamlin took her," Nesta answered for her emptily, though Feyre didn't turn around to face her. "The red-head stopped Tamlin from hurting her and…and took her." Feyre finally looked at me, trying to find the lies on my face, trying to figure out what part of the story was made up. My eyebrows lifted.
"Unless Tamlin had finally adopted someone else from the Autumn Court, I'm assuming she's talking about your lovely Lucien," I answered, my voice unusually steady. "Trying to stop Tamlin from becoming a monster but always utterly failing? Sounds pretty familiar to me."
But as her face shattered, and I felt the pain from her heart tug on our very thin thread, I knew what my next move would be. War.
Please give me as many comments as you can! I thrive off replies. I'm aiming for at least five more.
