Rhysand

I felt Feyre go limp in my arms, her mind going quiet from the panicked thoughts that had just consumed her. For an alarming second my heart squeezed as I looked down—her name a faint question on my lips before I saw her chest rise and fall slowly. I nearly collapsed in relief as I laid her on the lounge at the other end of the reflection pool, far away enough from the others and where Kallias had also carried away a stunned Viviane. I felt Mor and Nesta on my heels, Kallias's own entourage filing over to his side to check on their High Lady, but I couldn't tear my focus from my mate.

I brushed a few loose strands of hair from her face, skin clammy to the touch and I took the crown from atop her head to allow her to rest easier. I handed it off to Mor and turned my wrist—summoning a cool washcloth to lay across her forehead; a faint gasp escaping past her lips and a small wince on her face from the sensation. There was a hum in my ears as I watched the pattern of her breathing, making sure there was nothing amiss before I flared my wings out wide and used them to enclose us in privacy as I placed a hand on her stomach gently. I closed my eyes as I tugged on the bond carefully, waiting for some kind of signal from either her or my son—that gentle flutter that I felt every so often from him. Since he was conceived, I had felt that flutter every time Feyre did residing in my core. At first it had been a muted pulse, not nearly as strong as Feyre had described it to me at the beginning stages of her pregnancy—before either of us realized it, but now that she was further along it was just as ardent as the bond between her and I.

I felt my eyes burn, the tightness in my throat alleviating when I felt the glimmer in return. He was safe; Feyre was safe, and the sense of ease that flooded through me was brief as I tucked my wings back in and turned toward the crowd of voices across the reflection pool—at the male who remained unconscious on the ground. In the split second that followed Feyre shielding his attack, before the last of the flames had been snuffed out, I gripped a hold of his mind, rendering him into a comatose state—for the time being. It took every ounce of restraint not to mist him on the spot. Instead, I shifted my attention to my mate as the beginnings of her panic began to swirl in her mind.

She had begged for me during her panic; though unintentionally, she shouted all her thoughts down the bond as they came, the perfectly adamant mental shields she had built over the decade thrown down in a cry for help. I couldn't yet shake the terror in her blue-grey eyes as I carefully seized her arms the second she dropped her shield—terror I hadn't seen in well over a decade. I called to her, down the bond and aloud, and after an agonizing minute she managed to hear me—to see me, and finally calmed. But even as she worked to compose herself, her beautiful eyes were dull as she came back to me. That image of her horror-stricken wide eyes and of her trembling lips sobbing was burned into my memory, and I felt that delayed rage resurface. Knowing that both my mate and child were now out of harm's way meant I could kill Beron—alliance be damned.

The others must have felt the rise in my preternatural instincts; their heads turning to stare as I stood from Feyre's side and began to advance towards the High Lord of Autumn. It was Cassian who held me back before I could get any closer, his hands on my shoulders as I turned my murderous gaze from Beron to my brother.

"Think about this for a second, Rhysand." He managed to grind out through gritted teeth; it was then that I noticed his siphons flickered, realizing he was using them to keep me at bay.

"He attacked Feyre and my child!" I roared back.

"Believe me, I want the bastard dead too." Cassian growled, hazel eyes briefly glancing over to where Mor and Nesta now shielded my unconscious mate.

"Let us kill him." I heard Kallias snarl, and I finally noticed Azriel holding the High Lord of Winter back-using an equal amount of force as it took Cassian to do for me.

"Not yet," Azriel said-eerily calm, despite his own cobalt siphons flickering.

The room was consumed in shadows of cold darkness. Ice slowly climbed up the sun-stone pillars as my shadows grew darker, swirling above the floors. I saw the other High Lords and their entourages shift uncomfortably as they exchanged looks. They had without a doubt sided with us before, but now stood on the fence of whether or not now was the right time to move on the Autumn Court. I saw them look in Feyre's direction, wanting their own reassurance that she was unharmed—but their stares only made my anger grow hotter and I attempted to shove Cassian out of my way.

He stood firm, and I saw Azriel do the same against Kallias. Both of us with mates in the delicate position of carrying our offspring—our heirs. Both of them High Lady and respected as such at these summits and throughout Prythian. I knew the other High Lords, and even our Mortal allies, wanted justice for them.

A feral growl rose from my throat when Eris took a step forward, my teeth bared when he held up his hands in defense.

"I know what wrong my father just committed, and while I don't defend his actions and would delight in watching you both rip him to shreds, I only oppose it due to the repercussions bringing my dead father back would cause in our court. Especially among the armies," he explained.

Though he meant for everyone to hear it, his eyes met strictly with mine. "We certainly wouldn't want to encourage them to start a war by turning my father into a martyr."

I didn't have to think twice in order to understand his meaning. If Beron were to turn up dead now, his armies wouldn't hesitate to turn to Keir and Kallon in retaliation—joining their ranks in the coup that threatened us. That reminder was akin to being dunked into the icy riverbanks of the Illyrian mountains; my all-consuming rage momentarily quelled as I recalled the reason behind the summit meeting today. I had told Feyre that the older male would expose his own treacherous ways, and there was certainly no questioning his motives, or who he aligned with, now.

I glanced at Cassian, and saw the same message conveyed in his eyes. He had come to realize it before I could, and I knew it was the only reason why he and Azriel held us back now. I returned my dark glare at Eris, and after a few tense seconds, I reluctantly took a step back. Kallias must have known I would explain my reasoning once they left; perhaps he had already picked up on some hint, because he then shoved out of Azriel's grasp. His eyes narrowed at the unconscious High Lord of Autumn, then at his eldest son, and huffed before turning back in the direction of his mate.

Viviane only watched us with frightened, tearful eyes. Though a different shade from my mates, the blue in her eyes was enough to make my stomach lurch at the reminder of the same fear that had been in Feyre's.

"I won't kill him. Yet," I finally said before I turned on my heels to return to my mate's side.

I heard the other High Lords murmur a reluctant agreement; all except for Tamlin. Though I had been surprised to see him line up with the rest of us against Beron, he remained quiet throughout the events that had just unfolded. He now stood apart from us once again, his sentry at his side, but I saw that his gaze was fixed on Feyre. I managed to bite back a snarl as I walked past him and kneeled beside her sleeping form on the lounge; a small frown on her lips as she remained unconscious.

I hadn't realized Eris winnowed his father and brothers away until Thesan cleared his throat.

"I'll have my servants prepare your rooms," he said to both Kallias and me before turning to a sentry and delivering orders.

I said nothing as I moved to sit beside Feyre, holding her hand as I turned to face the grim expressions of our allies—our friends.

"Rest assured Rhysand, I do not see your youngling's potential as a threat." Helion reassured with a nod of his head, and for a brief second, I saw him glance over at Lucien.

He stood with Vassa and Jurian at his side, who were both visibly relieved now that the remainder of the Autumn Court had left. His eyes were fixed on the ground, his mechanical one whirred to a point while the other appeared lost. I had almost forgotten Eris's earlier revelation, and I felt a margin of sympathy for him and the thoughts he must've struggled with now.

"You and Feyre also have nothing to fear from us," Tarquin echoed.

"Is she okay?" Cressida asked, taking a hesitant step forward.

I tried not to snap at her in return, my mated instincts still raw. "She's all right," I answered.

"And the youngling?" Thesan asked.

I nodded, and we all turned at the sound of Viviane bursting into tears. A delicate hand covered her sobs as Kallias gathered her in his arms, working to reassure her, and I saw Mor step closer, offering more comforting and soothing words—albeit cautiously as to not set off Kallias's own rage.

He instead turned a look at Thesan, his eyes almost desperate with his need to take his mate away to the safety of their own privacy. Our host nodded in understanding before summoning a sentry to escort them. Kallias easily carried his mate in his arms, her face hidden away in his neck as he left the room without another word.

I snapped my head back to Feyre as I heard a small whimper come from her throat; my heart nearly stopping as her frown deepened, but her eyes remained closed. I focused in on our bond and could see a nightmare beginning to churn in her mind. I hadn't realized Cassian and Azriel edged closer with Mor, all snapping to attention at their High Lady. Even Nesta neared, eyes fixed on Feyre.

Thesan took a careful step towards us, but before he could offer his sentry to escort us to our rooms, I lifted Feyre from the lounge and held her close as I walked out. I quickly sent soothing words of reassurance down the bond, desperate to erase the nightmarish images forming in her mind. I hardly noticed the sentry that kept a safe distance behind, only there to open the door to our rooms for me. I brought her over to the bed and laid her down gently, brushing her hair back again as I continued to murmur words of comfort. With her mental shields still down, I sent images of Velaris to her dreams—of our nighttime walks along the Sidra, of the Rainbow and her studio with Ressina. Of the music I had once sent to her while imprisoned and that played often during our walks.

After an agonizing few minutes, she relaxed; the wrinkles on her forehead smoothing out and her lips parting lightly as the soft whimpers ceased. I pressed my brow against hers, slipping my eyes shut as I moved to lay beside her. I wrapped her in my arms, and she welcomed the embrace, even in her sleep. I continued watching her breaths, unable to help myself as I held her close. But as I gazed at her now peaceful face, I couldn't fight the feelings of guilt roiling in my gut. I pressed my lips together in a thin line as I recalled the moment I had let go of my control on Beron the first time. I had been too trusting, something that went against all of my instincts as a mated male expecting a youngling—and it had cost my mate her strength, and endangered not only her life, but our child's as well.

Cauldron damn me, I would never let that happen again.

Feyre

I felt almost ethereal—light, as I opened my eyes; reality slowly returning to me as I stared out the balcony across the room. The ornate columns and balcony railing made of sunstone were illuminated in an amber hue, set aglow by the setting sun. I breathed out an easy sigh as the breeze floated in from outside, my eyes glazed over as I continued to stare at the sky—until, slowly, the memories of where I was and what had happened came flooding back.

I gasped and lurched forward in the bed I laid on, clutching at my stomach as a sharp pain in my side pulsed—caused by my abrupt movement.

"It's okay Feyre, you're safe," came Mor's soothing tone as she appeared at my side.

I hadn't realized she was in the room with me and I stared at her, my eyes wide. "Rhys…?" I asked.

She sat beside me, "He went to the kitchens to get you both some food. The others are having dinner together, but we all thought it best that you and Viviane continue to rest." She explained, a hand touching my arm gently.

I nodded but couldn't relax just yet. "Is she okay? And the baby?"

"Yes, thank the Mother. She was a little shaken up, but she and her baby are just fine." She reassured again, but then her other hand came to rest over mine—still clutching my stomach.

"How are you feeling?" By her tone, I could tell she worried about my baby as well.

I did a quick assessment as the tension finally left my body and I relaxed. Aside from a lingering headache most likely caused from the expulsion of my powers, I was unharmed—and so was my son.

"We're okay," I said with another nod and sighed. "Although I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little shaken up myself…"

She frowned, "Oh Feyre, I'm so sorry." She wrapped me in a careful embrace, and I held her back.

I was relieved to see that she was okay, but I wondered if the others were too after Beron's attack. I tried not to shudder at the memory and pulled back to look at her once again.

"I'm all right Mor," I looked around the room to see if we weren't the only two. "Where are the others?"

"They're all fine Feyre. It's you we were worried about. You who saved yourself, Viviane and the babies," she said.

I looked down at my stomach, "It just...happened, and I reacted on instinct. I didn't even realize I summoned my shield until after it was over." I paused before adding, "Is Beron...?"

Mor shook her head, "Unfortunately, still alive. Eris reminded us what was at stake if the soldiers of the Autumn Court learned of their High Lord's untimely, and unexpected, death."

I gulped as I came to the same realization. If Rhys had decided to kill him on the spot, there would've been motive enough to incite the coup we were desperately trying to prevent.

Mor squeezed my shoulder gently, a sad smile on her beautiful face. "I'm sorry Feyre...about all of this. About my father, and this coup. About all this stress it's caused, especially now," she said, placing her hands over mine as they held the mound of my stomach.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Mor. Your father's actions aren't your responsibility," I said, trying to put her at ease. "And you shouldn't let it weigh on your shoulders either."

Her returning smile was a little brighter than before, but I saw the lingering guilt simmering in her warm brown eyes. A dreamer born into the court of nightmares, haunted by the continued destructive actions of the male she once called her father—it seemed he would never stop trying to destroy her happiness or of those whom she loved. I squeezed her hands comfortingly, and we both looked up as the door opened and Rhys stepped through with a tray of covered food. Our eyes met and I felt myself melt with solace, his demeanor changing as well as he set the tray aside and wrapped me in a tight embrace before I could even move from my place on the bed. Mor moved aside and I heard her leave the room as I buried my face in my mate's neck, breathing in his scent as ease continued to wash over me.

I felt his arms slide under my legs, moving me from the bed and onto his lap as he shifted his weight under me. I pulled back to rest my brow against his, meeting his violet eyes that sparkling with the same remorse I saw in Mor's.

I touched his cheek gently, "I'm okay." I took one of his hands to rest on my stomach, "We're okay."

Rhys only shook his head, brow crumpling with guilt as he squeezed his eyes shut, pulling me closer. "I shouldn't have let my guard down. Not for a second."

"You couldn't have known, Rhysand. None of us saw that coming."

"I should have," he croaked. His voice hoarse as he buried his nose into my collarbone, his hand coming to caress my stomach lightly.

I pressed a lingering kiss to his temple. "Well even pregnant, I was able to take care of myself," I attempted lightheartedly.

"I had no doubt about that, but while pregnant you shouldn't have to. Especially given how drained you get after using your powers," he explained with a frown.

I was about to protest that I was fine regardless, but my stomach growled fiercely, and I sighed. Perhaps it was a sign of protest from my son—agreeing with his father. This turned a switch in Rhys, and he stood, setting me back on the bed as he grabbed the full tray of food he had brought from the kitchens. Placing it on the space before me, I raised my brow as he uncovered extravagant plates of rich and well-seasoned food.

"Did you raid Thesan's kitchen?" I joked, not hesitating to grab the first thing I saw—a warm biscuit slit with a pad of butter on the top.

"Actually, Feyre darling, the cooks already had this display out. I just took the liberty of bringing it all to you." He said, sitting beside me as I took a bite.

I could see some of his ease beginning to return as he watched me eat, and I grinned back. "You should have left some for the others, you know," I teased.

"If you must know, smartass, this was all actually for you." He retorted playfully, swiping a finger down my nose.

"Thesan had all this prepared for me?" I asked, finishing off the biscuit.

Rhys nodded, "And one for Viviane as well." His expression grew a bit darker as a memory I couldn't see flashed behind his violet eyes. "You both went through a scare today, and he isn't the only one of us to feel remorse."

I frowned and reached to grab hold of his hand, squeezing it to reassure him. "Like I just told Mor, you can't blame yourself for the actions of another male. We came here to confront him, and we didn't anticipate this reaction."

He conceded with a deep sigh, but I saw the self-condemnation remain.

Please don't blame yourself, I said through the bond, crawling closer to him on the bed—ignoring the food for now as I saddled myself on his lap. I cupped either side of his face, tilting his head back as my lips hovered over his.

I'm trying, he said in return as he held my waist lightly. I leaned in to capture his lips with mine, but his spread in a wide grin instead of kissing me back. I was about to complain, but a knock came at our door a moment later. I huffed in annoyance as I leaned back, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"You knew someone was coming, didn't you?" I asked.

"Perhaps, but I wasn't going to stop you."

I rolled my eyes as I climbed off him. Prick.

A dark chuckle reverberated in his chest as he climbed off the bed, crossing over to the door and opening it to reveal Mor with Viviane a step behind her—Kallias at her side. I immediately stood from the bed, surprised that it took a little more effort than it used to, as Rhys stepped aside to let them in.

"Viviane, how are you?" I asked, taking a step forward as Rhys returned to my side.

"I'm perfectly fine, we both are. Thanks to you," she said as she ran a hand along her enormous belly.

I smiled and took the free hand she extended to me, squeezing it gently. I looked at Kallias, whose glacial eyes seemed silver-lined for the split second I met them before he dropped down to a knee before me. Through the bond I felt Rhys go as completely rigid with shock as I did as the High Lord of Winter actually bowed. Even Mor's mouth dropped open as she watched from the doorway.

Kallias stayed on one knee, his head lowered as he spoke. "You protected my wife, my mate. The High Lady of the Winter Court and the mother of my child and heir. Not only that, but my child as well." He raised his head up, his crushing blue eyes meeting mine once again. "For that, I will be forever grateful and in your debt. As High Lord of the Winter Court, I vow to uphold our alliance with the Night Court."

He stood as Viviane squeezed my hand again, and I realized I had been holding it this whole time. I met the icy blue of her eyes as she smiled. "We will make sure our daughter knows of her friends in the Night Court, especially the one who will be her age and possibly share some of her powers."

Still too stunned to speak, to have any other reaction other than surprise, I nodded. I felt Rhys shift from my side to shake hands with Kallias and gratitude flooded through me as I moved to embrace Viviane. We both laughed wetly as we struggled over her belly and pulled apart to stand at arm's length—both of our eyes now filled with tears.

"Thank you," I choked out and turned to Kallias again. "You're our friends, and I would gladly protect Viviane again."

"Hopefully it won't come to that again," Rhys interjected, and I knew the idea of his pregnant mate stepping in the line of fire for a second time might've been too much for him to handle.

Kallias clasped a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "It won't," he said.

I nodded, but it was Viviane who spoke up before I had the chance to. "I would do the same, and I might've, but Feyre's reflexes are a lot quicker than mine at the moment," she quipped with a grin at me.

I smirked back, "At least for the moment. Though, I did faint right afterwards."

"I fainted when Kallias brought me back to our rooms. Maybe my stamina isn't completely lost after all!" She joked.

Both males exchanged withered glances; Mor, Viviane, and I breaking into a round of laughter.