The tang of blood surrounded me as Amarantha gutted another one of my soldiers. I shifted my weight, trying to get into a more comfortable position, but hissed at the shot of pain in my wing. The bolts refused to let me so much as move.

She mistaked my hissing and gave me a gruesome smile before stalking over to me and putting a hand on my shoulder, blood dripping off each nail. "Are you ready to tell me what I need to know?"

I stared at her, barely able to contain my rage. The moment I was let go, the moment I was out of these chains I would kill her. All I needed was one of her guards to walk too close. They thought I was just another weak lordling; they didn't know how experienced I was.

She smiled at the hate that was probably making my eyes shimmer and dug her nails into my shoulder a little; blood trickled down my arm. Gritting my teeth, I held in the promise of her death; all of those soldiers' deaths wouldn't be in vain.

She released her grip and began trailing her pointer finger up my neck, only swooping down when she reached the edge of my ear. My back tingled as her nail scraped down it, lower and lower- I flinched when her finger caressed the delicate tendon of my wing, the sensitiveness making me shiver.

Amarantha froze, a sensual smile making its way onto her lips. Again, she ran a finger down the ridge of my wing, over and over again. I fought the roaring storm in my head and the urge to shiver violently, but it was difficult. No one has ever touched my wings like that… at least, not repeatedly after the first accidental brush.

"Interesting," she murmured, looking at me. "Very interesting."

I didn't meet her gaze, but for the first time I feared she saw through me. Her fingers stopped brushing the wing, and when I looked back up she was making her way to a wooden table, looking over the weapons carefully.

Her finger hovered over one, and then shot towards another. She kept up at that for a minute, seemingly unable to decide what she wanted to use on me, until she finally picked up a long knife.

I couldn't see it until she turned towards me. The serrated edge gleamed in the sunlight, and dread sank low in my stomach. That was the perfect kind of knife to cut off my wings with. Slowly, I let out a deep breath. I couldn't let her see me panic. This was just a tactic used to 'convince' me to tell her what I know. She wouldn't hurt me, but I knew the truth.

"How about this one Lordling?" she mused, turning it slightly in her hands.

My fingers twitched ever so slightly.

Beads of blood formed as she put pressure on the skin right above my wing. I didn't shut my eyes, instead, I looked at the ground and thought of the last time I flew for fun; it seemed like such a long time ago.

"General!" a soldier shouted, "General! I have important news!"

She snarled and lifted the knife before stalking towards him. I breathed out a sigh of relief and shut my eyes for a moment. She would've done it if that soldier hadn't interrupted her. My life would've been ruined if she had done it. Who would want a High Lord so damaged? Who would want a mate like that?

'Shut up,' I told myself, 'that's not your only quality. It's not everything.'

The primal instinct roiling in my gut disagreed.

Amarantha let out another snarl, and I opened my eyes, "Well? Tell me why you interrupted me!"

The soldier bobbed his head a little, his onyx eyes nearly bulging out of his head, "Ye- yes of course general. The leader- the leader of the human army has come here to negotiate with you! He talks of peace between worlds!"

She froze, a wicked gleam entering her eyes, "Has he called parley?"

"No general."

She let out a haughty laugh and pointed towards the hill over from camp, "Tell him to meet me there in fifteen minutes."

"Yes, my general."

"Oh, and one more thing," she drawled. "Have him go alone. When he meets with me, kill his men."

The soldier bowed deeply before scurrying away. Amarantha didn't spare me a glance, not as she dropped the serrated knife and made her way towards her tent. Jurian was here? And he didn't call any kind of parley? Was he looking for a fight?

I ground my teeth and looked around, but the clearing around me was empty. Sighing, I let my head hang, the weight of my exhaustion hitting me. If I knew Jurian, he was just as tired of these casualties as everyone else. He wanted this war to end.

But if he fought Amarantha… he would die. He was no match for her, no matter how much bradio he could muster.

My head snapped up as realization and shock hit me. He was going to martyr himself. If he died at the hands of Amarantha during an alleged truce, that would give the human army more of a reason to fight. And if a political war leader died at the hands of one of Hybern's generals… the war would be forced to end.

A wild chuckle slipped out of me; he was a madman, but he wasn't stupid. To put himself at Amarantha's mercy… it was a brilliant but awful way to die. Jurian had killed Cynthia, and now he was going to pay the price. A twinge of grief swept through me, despite our differences in the beginning, he had become a friend to me, and I would hate to see him go.

The soldier returned with three humans, who were looking around, trying to seize every detail of the camp. When one of them saw me, Corlin, I remember, he opened his mouth to speak, "Rhysa-"

Blood sprayed from his mouth and he slumped forward. The other two men with him let out a cry of outrage and tried to pull out their swords. They didn't stand a chance against Amarantha's soldier.

Their blood seeped into the soil, and I seemed to see it, yet I didn't. So many unnecessary deaths by Amarantha's hand. How many lives would she end until she would be able to quench her thirst for blood. How many had to pay for Cynthia's death? It seemed like a million.

vVv

Amarantha had decided to fight Jurian with her bare hands and raw magic. He didn't stand a chance. I watched as she dealt him blow after blow, making them more and more painful each time. Every now and then Jurian would get a lucky shot in, but it was nowhere near as powerful as he needed it to be.

After what seemed like hours, Amarantha finally got tired of beating him senseless and cut him down. He wasn't able to get up as she dragged him off somewhere.

Long traumatizing screams sounded all day and lasted long into the night. They lasted days. Amarantha no longer cared about the information she wanted from me. All she could care about was a new tortuous delight for Jurian to endure.

I don't know how much time has passed. My meals were random, and oftentimes they were so molded and decayed that they couldn't be eaten. My only company were the stars twinkling in the night sky, and all I could do with them was wish.

vVv

I shivered against the cold winds that whipped through the camp, freezing me to the very core. How would I get out of this one? In my youth I had prided myself on my ability to get out of tight situations, but as long as these ash bolts were in my wings I couldn't move. Amarantha killed my soldiers, so why hadn't she killed me?

Letting lose a soft sigh, I looked to the sky and- What? Were those black blotches?

No one else seemed to notice them, and as they got closer I saw the distinct shape of wings. Illyrian wings. The sound of winnowing filled the camp and soldiers from the Night Court appeared. Screams rang throughout the camp; Amarantha's soldiers. A feral smile made its way to my face, and I couldn't help but let out a whoop when I saw Azriel gut someone with Truthteller.

As I watched the battle rage on, I couldn't help but search for my father, but I couldn't see him. Maybe he was on his way to Amarantha herself.

The tang of blood coated the air, and I couldn't help the fury that pulsed through me. I hoped my father wouldn't kill her so I could have the chance to. I wanted it to be slow and agonizing, worse than what she was putting Jurian through.

The battle started to slow down, and soon enough I saw my father stalking towards me. His raven hair was longer than the last time I'd seen it, and a new scar adorned his eyebrow. When he got in front of me, he flicked a hand towards the nearest soldiers, and they unbolted my chain from the ground but not my wings.

"Father," I said.

"Leave the bolts in his wings until you get him to a medic as punishment for getting caught," he said to Azriel. "I want him seen in the Night Court, and then report back to me."

Shame filled me. I had gotten caught. One of the most powerful beings in the world had gotten captured in battle. "Father," I said again, desperate to say something to him, but what? What did I have to say to him?

He gave me a withering glare and nodded at Azriel before strutting off, presumably to deal with the aftermath of the battle.

Azriel made his way towards me and gripped my arm softly before winnowing us away with whatever magic he possessed. I blinked, and we were in Velaris, right outside Madja's office. Home.

He helped me inside and put me on a cot before sitting down in the chair beside it. Swallowing deeply, I shut my eyes and said, "I'm glad you're okay."

He let out his own breath, "As am I. When I found out you were captured…"

"Does Cassian know?"

"If my messenger was reliable at all."

I nodded, "When this is all over we need a week at the cabin. I need to get wasted out of my mind."

A soft laugh, "Mother above yes."

A/N- Hello! My original idea for this is way too long so I'm going to break it up into three parts. This part was Rhys while he was captured during the war, the next will be the immediate aftermath (see chapter 54 if you want a more in depth summary), and the final part will be how Rhys got tricked into being captured (UTM). Hope you enjoy! I'll be updating in the next week or so!