She knew that Lucien and Tamlin would likely be shocked at her manners, but she couldn't stay in that room any more, not with the questions they would have thrown at her.
Slamming her door behind her, Feyre slumped onto her bed, placing her head in her hands. She was so lost in her thought that she didn't hear when the doorbell rang.
She reminded herself that she loved Tamlin, and that Tamlin loved her, and as long as that love held, they would be fine. She would be fine.
She would be fine.
She would be fine.
She would be fine.
She was not fine.
She was not fine.
She was not fine.
Tears began to stream down her face, silent and salty, tracing tracks down her cheeks. Her body shook, and she gasped for breath, quiet sobs escaping into the room around her, devoid of love and warmth. Slowly, carefully Feyre began to take deep breaths to calm herself down. She lay in bed for a few minutes, before a knock on the door roused her.
"Ummmm, Feyre?" It was Lucien."I'm afraid we need you out here… like now." he sounded nervous, but nothing made Lucien nervous… unless tamlin was angry. That would make anyone nervous. Was he angry? With her, for storming out? Feyre desperately hoped not.
"Why?"
"It's not exactly an easy sit- oof" Lucien was cut off, sounding like he had been winded, she knew how painful that could be…
"Feyre, darling, are you in there?" Oh Gods… it was him. "If you are, then could you please come out, as we need to leave." Why was he here? A sigh from the other side of the door. "Feyre, darling, I know you're in there, and I know that you know who I am. So could you please come out?"
"What did you do to Lucien?" Feyre's voice was shaky.
"Feyre, darling-"
"Stop calling me that!"
"Fine. All I did was elbow him. Will you come out now?"
"Where's Tamlin?"
"Probably rounding up his guards." he let out a dark chuckle that made her skin crawl. "You should have seen his face when he saw me! He went white as a ghost!"
"You think this is funny?" She ran to the door and tore it open, coming face to face with Rhysand of the night faction. Tall, ebony hair, violet eyes that made Feyre want to drag him to her painting studio, even though she hadn't painted in months, just to see if she could create the shade of those eyes. And of course, there was his smirk. Those lips and those eyes… they belonged to her dreams, where she could pass it off as her subconscious remembering what had gotten her out of there, what had stopped her sanity from disappearing altogether.
"You're thinner, and yes, actually, I do. Now, shall we go?" he was holding out his hand to her. An offer of going somewhere, doing something different to what she did every day. Feyre decided to ignore the jab about how thin she was, and concentrated on that hand.
"Where?" Rhysand sighed and rolled his eyes, his hand still extended.
"I'm calling in my bargain, forgetful." Feyre paused.
The bargain. The sounds of someone thundering up the staircase echoed through the hallways, and Feyre knew that she needed to fight for time.
"It's my bargain as much as yours. And shouldn't it work from both sides? I want to have a say in whether I go or not." a cold sweat slid down her forehead, and she restrained herself from wiping it away. Rhysand dropped his hand, seeing she wasn't going to take it anytime soon.
"That's not going to happen, as if I were to ask you, your answer would always be no. So you are not going to have a say in 'whether you go or not'." she snarled,
"Don't mimic me, prick." his face broke into a large grin,
"If I'm a-" Rhysand was cut short by a shout, and Tamlin appeared around the corner.
"Feyre!" Tamlin grabbed her shoulders and studied her face, "Are you ok? Where's Lucien?"
"I'm fine, Lucien is unconscious and we have an audience." He whirled, seeming to remember Rhysand, who smirked, as Tamlin growled in his face.
"Hello Tammy. I'm going to take Feyre away for a week to fill our bargain. I've left you both alone for 3 months, and she is emaciated, so I'm going to take her away, keep her for a week, feed her up, and bring her back at the end of the week."
"I am here, you know." Feyre stepped between the two men, annoyed at being left out of the conversation. "I am not going away, I am not in danger, and I don't need to be fed up."
"Feyre, love, really there's no reason for you to take part in this chat at all, please go into your room." She paused, stunned.
"That's no way to act, and you know it. Come on Feyre, let's go now."
"I-"
"She's not going. What can I do to break the bargain?" Feyre could see both Tamlin and Rhysand getting angry, so she decided it would be wise to take a step or two back.
"You can't. It's as simple as that." And it was. Tamlin couldn't break the bargain.
"If you hurt her…" Feyre whipped her head to Tamlin, if he was making those types of promises, that meant he was… he was letting Rhysand take her!
"If I hurt her, there will be war, I know, Tammy." Tamlin bared his teeth, then turned to Feyre.
"I promise that I will find a way to break this damned bargain - Which, by the way, I'm not sure how you had such terrible foresight to make - but for now, just go with him, and when you get back, we'll… talk." Feyre opened her mouth to object and say that no she did not want to go with Rhysand, but Rhysand's calloused hand was already around her upper arm, pulling her away from Tamlin and her room.
"She knows Tamlin. Don't talk to her like she's a child. Come along Feyre, they'll all be here when you get back."
"You're talking to me like I'm a child, you're such a hypocrite!" All Rhysand did was chuckle, and let go of her, walking alongside her, into the courtyard, where… "You want me to go… on that?" Feyre stopped walking, but Rhysand continued, toward the midnight blue, sleek motorbike standing there, the night court sigl of three mountains, a stark white, standing out. There was also another symbol on the body of the bike, but she couldn't quite make it out…
"Yes, have you never ridden one before? How did Tamlin get you here in the first place? Limousine?" He smirked, then strode back to her carrying a black helmet. "Put it on, unless you want to die?" Feyre slammed the helmet on her head.
"Of course I don't want to die! And, as you asked, he did bring me here in a limo, yes." Rhysand raised his eyebrows.
"So Tammy's fancy now?" Before she could answer, he strode toward her, picked her up, slung her over his shoulder, and carried her over to the bike. Setting her down on it, he looked at her. "Sit tight, and hold on, I want to get back to the night compound as fast as possible." Feyre gulped at what that meant, as Rhysand climbed on the bike, and they sped off into the night, Feyre hanging on as tightly as she could to Rhysand's waist.