*****Thank you so much to everyone who faved, followed and reviewed chapter one. I really appreciate it and it's motivated me to update quicker than I usually would.

All my love,

Tay******

Chapter Two:

The next morning at breakfast Rhys put down his fork and leaned back in his chair, his lips pursed and eyes furrowed, "Elain," he said, "Where is Nesta?"

Elain had never been one for lying. She had tried once when they were younger, Elain had broken one of Nesta's toys and tried to lie and say one of the neighborhood boys did it. But just as she was doing right now, she turned bright red and had the inability to maintain eye contact. "Oh she's you know…. Sleeping in." She watched her dainty hands move her silverware around on the table.

"Mhm," Rhys said, "So if I went upstairs right now and knocked on her door, she would be in there."

Elain looked up at the ceiling and opened her mouth before shutting it again. She didn't have a lot of time to contemplate what she was going to say to her brother in law that morning. "Maybe," was all her tiny voice could respond with.

The High Lord of the Night Court closed his eyes and sighed, "Where is she?" he asked again. Did none of the Archeon sister do as they were told? Apparently not, Rhys had just learned. They were all trouble and Rhys was just waiting for Elain to get into her own boiling pot.

"She left for the House of Wind," Elain confessed as Rhysand's eyes snapped up.

"She did what?" Rhys said. Not that there was anything wrong with Nesta going to the House of Wind. He had told them that the two sisters were free to roam Velaris, it's just the House of Wind was the last place Rhys thought Nesta would want to be. He stood up from the table, if she had indeed left soon after dinner she would be about three quarters way up the ten thousands steps. "She's not in trouble, right Rhys?"

He shook his head, "Depends on what you mean by trouble," was all he said before he stepped out of the townhouse and began flying towards the House of Wind.

I'm going to kill that Illyrian bastard, Nesta Archeon thought as she took yet another step up the mossy staircase. The stones that Rhys's ancestors had built had caused her whole body to ache; she'd kill him too for that matter. It was his ancestor's fault she was aching too, seriously? Ten thousand steps? What a family of over dramatic busy bodies her sister had married into.

She was starving too, the second thing she was going to do in that stupid fancy house would be to find something to eat. Maybe a slice of cheese bread, or some eggs, she was game for anything at this point. She was game for anything except her sisters husband swooping down right next to her, his wings shading her from the rays of sunshine.

"What do you want?" Nesta said almost too harshly.

"Good morning to you too Nesta," he smirked putting his hands in his pocket, "Out for a morning stroll?" She rolled her eyes at the way he beat around the bush.

"What is it to you?"

Rhys leaned his head to the side, "Tell me Nesta, do you always answer questions with more questions?"

"Maybe," she scowled at the High Lord of the Night Court.

Rhys could see that the fire that burned inside Feyre was a familial trait. There weren't a lot of people in Prythian who would cross a High Lord, especially Rhysand. But Nesta did not fear him, in fact she probably underestimated him, or maybe she just didn't care. He wasn't sure at the moment. "He's not in the best condition to be seen right now," he told her.

The shadow of his wings didn't hide the brightness that burned inside her. The fire crackled beneath her skin and burned through her eyes, "Well I'm not just going to sit idly by and let him suffer." She didn't know what it meant for an Illyrian to lose his wings, not really. But if it was the equivalent of wanting to die then Nesta understood. She had thought about throwing herself off of the balcony or starving herself because she too hated the body she was in.

Not human, but fae. A body she didn't choose, she was now everything she hated and it tore her apart on the inside. Whenever she closed her eyes she could see Elain being pulled underneath the Cauldron, the smell of Cassian's blood pooling on the floor, and she could feel her lungs being filled with the black water of the Cauldron. Nesta had fought the Cauldron off with every ounce of power her little human body possessed, but it was of no use.

She had died that day in Hybern. She hadn't been "Made" she had been reborn. Ripped from her own body and put inside of a new one. Nesta had had both life and death taken from her, and she didn't even know what to do with this second, unwanted life.

Rhys tipped his head to the side and looked at Nesta; her cheeks glowing red with hot rage, "If you insist," he said taking his hands out of his pockets. "Just to warn you," their eyes locked for the first time. Pure cobalt blue meeting violet, "This won't be pretty. The second you want to go back to the town house I will take you."

"I've been to hell and back," Nesta spat, "You think a temper tantrum from an over confident Illyrian is going to scare me,"

Walking through the House of Wind it became very apparent to Nesta that Cassian was not throwing a temper tantrum. There was no denying that the house was in complete shambles, Rhysand wasn't one who would care about family heirlooms being destroyed but just the sight of the destruction made her stomach twist. There wasn't a lot when they first entered the house but the closer they drew to Cassian's room the more chaos laid before them.

Pictures on the wall were crooked, claw marks on the antique wallpaper. Countless other things had been thrown around the hallway and adjourning rooms. And with each step Nesta's fist gripped tighter to her heart, what had she gotten herself into. Why did she care?

Maybe it was because the last thing she saw before the black bile filled her lungs up was Cassian and how if she could survive that she wasn't going to let him waste away the way she had thought about.

A small tug urged her forward regardless until Rhys stopped at the end of the hallway. A glimmer of grief passed in his eyes before opening the door. Nesta caught the gasp that almost erupted from her lips. There were feathers and blood and various bandages strung throughout the room. "Go away Rhys," If Nesta hadn't seen him laying on a couch near the fireplace she wouldn't have believed the voice belonged to him. "Mor and Amren have already been in today and I don't feel like throwing you out either," It was hoarse and gravely.

"You wouldn't let the healers in today either I take it,"

Cassian let out a deep snort as he picked at the wood on an armchair adjacent to the couch, "They can all go to hell,"

A deep sigh came out of Rhys's mouth as he lowered his head, "They're only here to help you, and at my request I might add."

For a while he didn't say anything, "I want to die. Leave. Please Rhys."

"Cassian," Nesta finally stepped forward, he immediately shot up from the couch looking at her as if she were some grand mirage Rhys had conjured. "What are you doing here?" he said.

"I came to make sure you don't waste away like I want to." Both males' eyes widened as she began to stalk towards him. As small as Nesta was compared to Cassian, when he was sitting she towered over him like a viper to her prey. "Last I recall you're alive, is that not correct?"

The Illyrian nodded, "I don't remember you being the one who was dragged from your home. Had to watch your sister, the only thing you've ever loved, die before your very eyes before they took your own body and shoved it into an over sized bathtub. While you begged for some sort of mercy, how you prayed that maybe that man would keep his promise as the black water infiltrated your lungs. And somehow through it all, all you managed to do was hate yourself until you finally had to give in only to realize that you weren't going to stay dead. That you were going to be turned into something you hated.

"No," Nesta said pursing her lips, "No you just lost one part of yourself defending your friend. Protecting him. And you want to sit here and lay about talking about how you want to die when you can't even begin to understand what it's like to want death and have that taken from you too"

"Get over yourself," The words seething from her lips like hot coal caused for him to flinch.

But he didn't look away.

"I'm sorry," he said letting his fingers brush against hers, "I wasn't there to protect you like I said I would." It wasn't until it was sliding down her cheek did Nesta notice that she was crying. Crying out of pure white-hot rage and perhaps sadness.

"You should be." This girl had so much fire and all she could do was throw the flames back into the pit. No one but Cassian and Feyre had realized it was a defense mechanism to hide from her own emotions.

She turned back to Rhys, "Can you show me to my room?" Rhys only nodded before turning and letting Nesta follow him out of the room. She closed her eyes as she felt Cassian's perfectly calloused hands brush against hers for the second time. The tug that she felt erupted like a bonfire at the mere flicker of contact before settling back into the harmless flame that it was.

"Nesta," Rhys said after they had walked along the corridor for a moment, "Save it," she spat back at him.

"I meant no disrespect," He tried and failed again.

"Listen to me Lord Rhysand," The sound of his full name sent a shiver down his spine, "You might be my sister's mate but you are not my brother. You don't know anything about me or what I've been through or what I've done or will do. So unless you have news about Feyre you can keep the small talk to a minimum."

"Likewise," He wanted to say but didn't. They spent the remainder of their time together in awkward silence before showing Nesta to her room. She muttered a thank you before closing the door behind her.

Later that evening, back at the townhouse, Rhys sat up in his bed reading when he summoned a piece of paper and a pen.

When you're done tearing the Spring Court to shreds you might not have a mate to come home to. He wrote before the note vanished into thin air.

It came back seconds later with Feyre's handwriting on it, What?, she wrote.

If your sister keeps biting my head off the way that she does I might not have one by the time you come home.

Oh no… I hope she hasn't gotten you into too much trouble.

Oh it's not me she's getting into trouble, Rhys smirked, It's Cassian you're going to have to worry about.

After a few moments of silence the paper came back, I would say I told you so but I don't want to wound that Illyrian ego of yours.

Rhys let out a bark of laughter before scribbling his own response; You don't give a damn about my ego.

True, was all that was written on the now crumpled piece of paper. Can't wait to 'tell you so' again about another one of our Illyrian friends and a certain third in command. Another piece of paper appeared. Rhys frowned before writing out his own smart ass remark.