It was late the next morning when the Illyrians returned home, empty handed and simmering with a quiet rage. But Rhysand was not with them when Cassian and Azriel stalked through the front door, Feyre waiting for them in the foyer. She frowned at her mate's absence, but Cassian only pointed up at the ceiling and grumbled that the High Lord was on the roof, brooding and cursing the Cauldron. Feyre thanked him, then winnowed onto the roof where she found Rhysand slouched in a chair near the pool.

His wings were sprawled out behind him, curving over the iron chaise in a way that could not be comfortable. Rhysand's face was pressed into the palms of his hands, and he did not look up at her as Feyre sat down beside him. The High Lord's shoulders were trembling, a shake that wracked his entire body when Feyre touched the back of his neck, her fingers threading gently through his hair. "Talk to me," she murmured, wanting nothing more than to pry his hands from his face; to see the tears that she knew Rhysand was hiding from her.

He swallowed, his throat bobbing with the threat of oncoming hysteria. "What have I done?" Rhys croaked, leaning into Feyre's embrace as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him to her. "I should have found another way to save her. Breaking her—shattering her—I shattered her mind, Feyre. My child's mind. I—"

"You said that there was no other way," Feyre reminded him, gently nudging his hands away from his face. She rested her palm against his cheek, brushing away his tears with the pad of her thumb. "You said that Celeste will be fine, and she's sound asleep in her bedroom. Amael is with her."

Rhysand's breathing was haggard, his hands still trembling as he reached for Feyre's and interlocked their fingers. "I panicked," he rasped. "She was screaming, and in pain, and all I wanted was to take it away from her. Her shields were gone, and she couldn't shut them out," Rhysand's chest ached as though someone had slid a knife into it. "If I hadn't been the one to do it, Feyre, they would have. I had to take away the battle ground. If I shattered her, then there would be nothing left for them to break."

She placed her fingers beneath his chin, tilting Rhysand's head back far enough that he was forced to look up at her. His violet eyes were full of tears, the evidence of his guilt as they gathered on the ends of his lashes. Feyre wiped them away. "If I thought for one moment, Rhysand, that you had intentionally hurt our daughter, we wouldn't be having this conversation," she pressed her head to his brow, cupping the back of his neck. "If I thought you had acted blindly or out of fear, and that you chose to overlook some other way to save her, I would have killed you."

"We couldn't find them," Rhysand told her, his nostrils flaring as he choked down his shame. There would be a time for that later. "Whoever attacked her. They didn't do it from Velaris, but their magic seeped through a crack in the wards. I repaired it," he took a breath to steady himself, focusing on Feyre's fingers as she trailed them up the back of his neck. "They know she's here."

Feyre's heart sputtered inside her chest. "What does that mean?" she asked. "What do we do? Will the Mortal Queens come for her?"

"I don't know," Rhys answered quietly. "The Daemati they had tracking her… they traced her power to the city, then broke into her mind to make her lose control. It was a test, to see if she were capable. To see if she were indeed strong enough to forge that Mother's-damned key."

"You faked her death, Rhys. They shouldn't have known to come looking for her," Feyre's eyes shone with fear. Rhysand squeezed her hand. "She didn't lose control last night. Not entirely. Maybe they'll leave her be because of it."

He shook his head, bringing their joined hands to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss to her fingers. "The Daemati who attacked her would have sensed the full extent her power the moment they shattered her shields. The Mortal Queens know damn well she's capable of forging their key, and they've always known she was in Velaris, alive. They've been biding their time to let her power grow."

"If they need her, why try killing her?"

"To test her," Rhys guessed. "Or to break her. A shattered mind leaves her vulnerable. They could easily step right into her head and use her to do their bidding," the horror on Feyre's face had him reeling. "I shielded the house before I left last night," he added quickly. "So did Amren and Mor, and even Azriel had his shadows on guard. She's safe, so long as she stays inside or up here on the roof."

Feyre took a breath. "Celeste won't like that."

"I know," Rhys acknowledged, burying his face into the warmth of Feyre's neck. She smelled of paint and the ocean. "I promise you, Feyre, that I will find some other way to keep her safe. I will not keep her locked away in this house," he pressed a kiss to her pulse. "It's temporary."

She nodded. "I believe you," Feyre said, combing her fingers through Rhys' hair. "I don't blame you, just so you know. I'm not angry with you," she felt him tense against her. "Celeste won't be angry, either. She'll understand. Amael, on the other hand…"

Rhysand snorted. "I can't believe he actually snarled at me," he said. "Nineteen years and that boy hasn't so much has raised his voice, much less mouthed off to his High Lord," Rhys chuckled, pulling Feyre closer to him. "I'll admit, knowing how much he cares for her brings me some peace of mind. He'd do anything for her."

"You don't think that they're…" Feyre motioned back and forth between herself and her mate. "Do you?"

"Oh, I have no doubt," Rhys told her. "If I could have chosen a mate for Celeste, I'd have picked Amael in a heartbeat. Fortunately, I think that the Mother has done that for me, and the two of them are just waiting for the bond to snap in place," he paused. "Perhaps it already has. For Amael, at least. Otherwise I doubt he'd have had the balls to snarl at me."

Feyre's laugh was soft. "If they are mates," she mused. "You'll have to stop getting so pissed every time he touches her. Need I remind you what happened when I first accepted the mating bond?"

He blanched. "I'll kill him."

"Amael won't leave her, you know," Feyre informed him quietly. "He followed your orders exactly: took her to her room, got her settled, and he hasn't budged from the chair next to her bed," the High Lady of the Night Court smiled. "He won't look away from her. It's like he's afraid that if he does, he'll lose her."

Rhys hummed in appreciation. "So the same way I look at you, then."

She turned to him, her hands moving to cup his face between her palms. "I love you," Feyre told him, her grey-blue eyes meeting his violet ones. Rhys swallowed thickly. "Whatever happens, Rhysand, we'll figure it out together."

"Together," he murmured, pressing his hand to the back of Feyre's neck. He pulled her to him, and gently pressed his lips against hers in a soft, lingering kiss. Darkness clashed and starlight flickered between them. "I love you, too," Rhysand said. "And I'll do whatever it takes to keep my family safe."


Author's Note: Hey, everyone! Here's a short Feysand moment that I hope is better than the last chapter! My eyes are feeling a bit better, so I managed to write this between work, my book, and babysitting my niece. Lol. Drop a comment if you enjoyed it, please!