I had seen my brother drink before, but not quite like this. Rhysand had levels of drinking and it was never a casual experience. He was always either celebrating or commiserating and both had the potential to be dangerous to those around him. He was Illyrian, so he could hold his weight, but he never stopped before that line that sent him perilously over the edge into the well of emotion he kept so well hidden during his sober hours.
It was dinnertime and even hours after the human girl had been brought in and tortured the walls still echoed her screams. Eventually Eris had pulled me away, seeing the way my face tightened with rage and my eyes had pooled too much moisture. My brother, however, had stayed by the side of the human for hours. No one had left the great hall since then, transitioning directly from lunch to dinner. New food had been magically presented before us, our wine glasses and goblets filled to the brim by invisible hands. And as soon as her body had been staked in gruesome pieces to the back wall, directly in the spot where Tamlin had stared wordlessly all afternoon, Rhysand had reached for the nearest faerie wine.
And then another, and another.
"He'll be fine," Eris whispered, bending down to pretend to kiss at my neck, one arm around my back. It was always just a game with us, especially when all his brothers were standing around us, being their typical grumbly, snarky selves. Well, all his brothers but one. I shifted my weight toward Eris, reaching a hand up to steady myself with his presence, and cast my eyes across the room to the only other faerie who checked on Tamlin as much as I did. Lucien wasn't someone I'd ever known well. Rhys hadn't ever brought him up, but I knew they had a brief history, mostly caused by the tension between our court and the Spring Court.
Without looking up to Eris I said, "I'll be right back," and headed off toward the long-haired fae, the red hue brighter than any of his siblings'. Eris hesitated before turning back to his brothers and I hoped he wouldn't check on me again for a while.
Lucien was one of the few masked fae Under the Mountain, the likes of which seemed to stick together. Whether it was related to the mask, or the tension between the Spring Court and the rest of Prythian, I didn't know. Beneath his fox-faced mask he was chatting with two other males I'd never met before, one in a pewter mask with no sheen and another in a cobalt blue that had a comic nose covering his true one. Lucien was the last to notice me and just as I was preparing something charming to say about the blue male's nose, he left abruptly with the pewter male in towe.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw my brother chatting with a few older males from the Court of Nightmares, a new goblet in one hand while the other was waving around frantically in the midst of an apparently harrowing tale.
"Princess," Lucien scoffed, looking off behind me with a jaded look at the backs of the faeries who abandoned him.
I tilted my head, resisting the urge to fiddle with my fingers. I'd had a lot of restless energy since my power had been seized from within me. Just one of many horrific violations that had taken place Under the Mountain. "Pleased to know you've heard of me," I said, slipping on my softest, silkiest grin.
He made piercing eye contact with me, his lips pressed together in a terse, strained line.
"Funny though since I was actually just coming over to befriend you," I told him, bobbing up and down on my heels. He dared a quick look in Tamlin's direction, allowing me a glance of my own to where Amarantha was mindlessly chatting in the Spring Lord's direction. He might as well be deaf; His face was devoid of any tells, no signs of life - happiness, sadness, fury, or sorrow.
My mate was a hollow being, an empty creature.
I would almost rather live through eternity with Eris over having any more of myself stripped away, sucked from my soul. I was too empty already to attempt to fill up someone else.
"Interesting," Lucien began, his voice a twisting snake, "because I heard that it was the males who sought you out to be befriended."
I kept my smile in place. "Well, since you never came I thought I'd save you the trip. Unless you'd prefer such an experience with someone like, say, your High Lord?"
It hadn't been too long since the last time a male's hands were at my throat, so when Lucien lunged for me, his teeth sharp and bared, I was somewhat prepared.
"You know nothing!" he growled out, his voice barely recognizable. He'd turned us around as he whipped me through the stale air, and despite being more than able to wrench myself from his grip, I could see Tamlin from over his shoulder. I could see my mate and though his features had not wavered from their frozen state, his eyes were on me. Lucien pressed me up against the wall, his body taut against my own, and no matter his threats or his facade, I could feel he was being too gentle. He was restless and putting on a show. "Why can't you understand it is only the Night Court that wishes to whore themselves out?"
I rolled my eyes, which delayed my move to free myself giving Rhysand just enough time to tackle the youngest Autumn Court son to the ground. They rolled into a pile of limbs and guttural male fae noises.
I sighed. What would it take to make a real friend around this place?
"Hey, hey," a heavy voice cut in. Then Eris was there, pulling Lucien away from the melee that was my brother. "Calm down, both of you."
Rhysand's eyes were crazed when they met mine. He'd lost his fine jacket since talking with the Court of Nightmares. His top button was missing, the thin thread dangling to the ground as if yearning for its lost host. I stepped toward him and he held his ground, running a quick hand through his disheveled raven hair that matched my own. And when I saw it, the look he gave me beneath all the tension of his face and his tight, trembling fists, I knew I had to get him out of here.
Eris was arguing with his youngest brother in a hush I couldn't hear when I called out to him, "Eris?"
His head turned.
I reached out for my brother, wrapping my hand around as much of his bicep as I could. "I need some privacy," I said, hoping Lucien wasn't really paying attention to me, his complaints still rolling off his tongue in a jumble I couldn't make out.
Eris nodded and tossed me the small, black key to his room before turning back to his brother.
I dragged Rhys away to the best of my abilities, but luckily, he wasn't feeling very resistant. The other Autumn Court brothers came over to join the arguing after we'd left, drawing more attention to the scene that we originally had. A fact I used to my advantage when I spilled us out of the great hall in a whisper of night. We wove through hallways on two different landings before I unlocked the door to Eris's room and yanked Rhys in behind me.
In the quiet, I watched my brother, glassy eyed from too much wine, stare me down, as if some prideful part of him hoped we'd come here for me. That we had come here only because I wanted to, not because I didn't want anyone to go looking for him in his own room.
In the quiet, we stared.
We stared at the children we once were, at the memories of training in secret until we were a bloody pulp and could no longer stand, falling into bed beside our mom in the Illyrian tents, memories of each Starfall when we shared one dance ever since I could walk, memories of him sneaking into my room to wake me up to fly through the night.
And we stared at the beings we had transformed into Under the Mountain. I wondered every day how he could ever look at me the same way again - as he had when we were children making up sky games with Cassian and Azriel for hours at a time. How could he still see me beneath the scars, the savagery that had been imparted on me? I was coated in malice and turmoil, ripped apart by rage and shame. Destroyed from the inside out.
But then I looked at him and knew, he could still see me.
He could still see me because I could see him.
He was wasting away, delivering his body to greatest evil we'd ever known - a slave to death and darkness all for the sake of our loved ones - the friends we hadn't seen in nearly fifty years. His joy was waning, his strength - his all-encompassing strength - was dissipating, and his fire, that part of him deep down that willed him forward, pushing onward for everything that meant anything in this life, was burning out with every day like today, watching the girl whose name he delivered be skinned alive in front of him.
But still, he was there. My brother, my best friend. My savior and co-conspirator. The most pure love I'd ever experienced had been freely gifted from his heart into mine and I grew into this self because of him - this very self that had somehow lasted this long in this hell. No curse, no amount of torture or abuse, no crime could stand in the way of that - of what he means to me.
I'm not sure which of us shed the first tears, but I reached out for him desperately, clinging to him as the sobs racked through my body. He shook against me, his tears a damp weight on my shoulders, and I held him tighter, hoping that one of us had enough strength left to last just a little longer, hoping that an end would come for us soon.
Any end.
