My head is going to explode; I'm sure of it. And the sun streaming through the window has a personal vendetta against me. I sit up slowly and groan, my muscles protesting after lying on the stiff couch all day.
"Here," Minna says as she walks around the back of the couch. She hands me a glass of cloudy water. "There's a headache powder mixed in. Aerin swiped it from Azriel a while ago." She grins as I chug the water. From the look of her clear blue eyes I assume she's already taken some of it herself. Aerin sits at the island, hunched over a glass of her own and waves halfheartedly over her shoulder.
"You can thank me later," she grumbles, taking a sip from her drink. I stand up and lean backwards, stretching out my back. I can already feel the effects of the concoction as I head for the kitchen and take a seat across from her, crossing my arms on the counter.
"I could kiss you right now," I tell Aerin. She flashes me a devious grin from over the rim of her mug.
"I figured I'd have to take a number in order to have a turn." At her words, the events from last night come rushing back.
"I think I'm going to be sick," I say, thumping my head down onto my arms with another groan. "I'm so embarrassed. Do you think he remembers it?" The way I nearly burnt up under the touch of his hands as we spun around the dance floor. Minna snorts.
"Of course he does. Nyx always invites everyone out to party and he's usually the least likely to drink while we're out," she says, taking the seat beside me and putting her arm around me. "Don't worry about it. He is very handsome. If you like that dark and broody thing, I guess. We see it all the time; females fall all over themselves for him." Aerin fake gags from her seat and despite my misery I laugh a little.
"I don't know what came over me."
"Tequila. It was the tequila, Flo."
"You tried to kiss Nyx?" Lucien's voice from the foyer startles all three of us. He's kicking off his shoes as he addresses me, face stern. "Florence-" he begins. I hold up a hand to stop him mid-sentence.
"Please don't," I close my eyes. "I think I've suffered enough for one day." Lucien looks like he might argue, but instead he just lets out a sigh and joins us in the kitchen. With a wave of his hand four plates appear on the counter. Full of exactly what the doctor ordered: greasy food.
"What is it about Night Court males?" He muses as we all dig in.
"It's the mystery of them," Minna wiggles her fingers at Lucien as she stuffs some fries in her mouth.
Aerin shoots a wink at Lucien and says, "I prefer Autumn Court males, myself." Lucien, however, rolls his eyes at the come on, but a small smile plays at his mouth.
"You're a bit young for me, kiddo."
"Eh, tomato-tomahto. My dad is hundreds of years older than my mom."
"The difference being I remember you in diapers." He gets his point across with that one. Minna coughs in an attempt to cover up her laughter as Aerin's usually tan skin pales and her cheeks turn a deep crimson. Lucien, finished with his food, stands up and musses up Aerin's hair as he walks by her. "Speaking of your father... tell your brother he needs to come home and deal with Cassian's loud mouth."
"Rowan hasn't been home in weeks. And he won't be home for quite some time after that stunt Nyx pulled in the Steppes," Minna chimes in. "Devlon is still so furious with Nyx he told him if he so much as tries to come back to the village he'll shoot him out of the sky."
Alarm races through me. The fact that an Illyrian commander would outright threaten the heir to the Night court like that has me shifting in my chair. Even Lucien raises his eyebrows at Minna's words. She waves us both off.
"Oh don't worry about it, if Nyx wasn't threatened at least once a month he'd grow bored."
"I think he spent too much time with your father growing up," Lucien mutters. The twins shrug.
I excuse myself from the relaxed meal and since I slept the entire day away, I head back out into the city. The sun is beginning to dip over the horizon and I watch as the streets come back to life. I can count on one hand how many times I walked through the villages and small cities of Spring... and never without an escort or after dark. Tamlin had always insisted on taking a full guard with me if I ventured beyond the grounds of Rosehall; which I rarely did. Usually I would only leave the grounds if we were going out on a 'feel good' expedition to raise morale in our territory. So I soak up the freedom to be able to drift into shop after shop as I please, greet the passing strangers that offer me smiles, and stop in a small cafe for a warm cup of tea. I delight in the anonymity of it all. Everyone back home knows who I am and they are... stiff because of it.
I sit at a table on the sidewalk and watch the people walking by as I mull over the events of last night. I have met plenty of males in my life and been attracted to a fair few of them. 130 years and I haven't exactly been a prude... although it is a bit harder to entice a male to come home with me when my father turns into a literal beast that could shred any normal male to pieces without so much as a second thought. But there have been lovers. None that have ever made me feel quite the way that I did last night wrapped up in Nyx's arms. Perhaps it was the alcohol I had consumed that clouded my judgement and made me want more, more, more. Why had he held me so close, gripped my chin and leaned in so close that we were nearly sharing breath if he was only going to push me away? The rejection stings all over again as I think of the way he shoved away from me and insisted the twins escort me home. I sip at my tea, letting the warmth of it comfort me. He had seemed like he wanted the physical connection as much as I had in that moment. I pick at the napkin underneath my teacup, shredding it into fine pieces. Was he just toying with me? That seems to track if I'm being completely honest with myself. But why? What would he gain from it? Other than my embarrassment. I scowl at the pieces of paper as I imagine him preening around the town house the next time I see him. Maybe I'll throw a plate at his head. The mental image brings a smile to my face.
A young child with wild golden curls darts out into the sidewalk in front of my table and knocks over the chair across from me, effectively pulling me from my reverie. His mother rushes over quickly and sets the chair up and apologizes profusely. I assure her he's no bother, and with a grateful smile they continue on their way. I stare after the pair; there was a time when children weren't seen frequently. And even now I don't see many... or didn't see many, back home. I'm still watching the mother and child when a dark shadow falls over my table.
"You've been called to the House of Wind," a deep voice says over my shoulder. I turn and find myself face to face with none other than Rhys' war general. Cassian. He smiles easily down at me, the kind look in his eyes so at odds with his Illyrian leathers and the twin blades strapped across his back. He tucks his wings in tight as people walk around him on the crowded sidewalk.
"The House of Wind?" I lay some coins down on the table and quickly finish off my tea before standing up. I'd wager that even on my tiptoes, Cassian would dwarf me.
"It's one of the places that we conduct official meetings. Feyre is going through a... redecorating phase at the River house, so we've been meeting up at the House of Wind." I nod, as if I've any idea where either of these places are and follow him away from the crowd. He once again reaches out to me.
"You can winnow?" I ask. Not many people from home can winnow, and in the time I've been around Cassian I haven't seen or heard of him doing so.
"No, besides, you can't winnow into the house. We're going to fly." For emphasis he spreads his wings to their full length and grins at me.
"Oh. Well, in that case. No thank you."
"Unfortunately, this meeting directly relates to... you. So your presence is necessary. And since everyone else is already up there, that's where we've been summoned." I lift an eyebrow.
"There's no other way up?" I ask nervously as I study the twin peaks arching behind him. The streetlights shine through the membranous wings, making the veins glow red. Cassian shakes his head and I stare at him for just a heartbeat longer before taking his hand. He swoops me up into his arms, cradling me close against his hard chest, and with a heavy downstroke we shoot into the sky. I clench my eyes so tight I see stars and my arms are glued around his neck as we soar through the air. It isn't until I notice that I don't feel racing wind tearing at me that I decide to open my eyes just a sliver. There are large red jewels glowing on his shoulders and one in the middle of his chest. Around us is a shield that also glows with a dim red light and I assume the shield is born from the jewels he sports. I tap the one on his chest.
"Siphons, it's an Illyrian thing."
"So if you drop me, that shield will catch me?"
"If I drop you, you could just winnow to the ground," he says with a smile. "But yes, it would catch you. I'm not going to drop you, Florence. Feyre would have my ass if I did."
"Lord of Bloodshed, afraid of Feyre Archeron?" He cringes.
"That nickname will follow me for eternity. I'm very afraid of Feyre Archeron. She had an amazing combat instructor." He winks down at me, barely taking his eyes off the sky in front of us. Before long we stop picking up speed and instead we slow into a smooth glide. A large balcony comes into view and with another strong downward push of his wings we hit the stone floor. My legs shake a little as he sets me down gently. After collecting myself, I follow him through the large doorway and into the heart of the house. Where... almost everyone I've met thus far is standing around looking extremely uncomfortable. Rhys and Feyre turn towards me as a unit with the latter offering me a weak smile. Nyx sits casually at the large dining table.
"We need to talk to you about something," she begins. I walk in carefully, surveying the people around me and trying not to panic at the expressions on their faces.
"What's happened?" I look face to face. Lucien isn't here. Did something happen to him during the time that I was away from the town house?
"Nothing has happened," Rhys assures me, his voice calm. "But we did receive a letter about an hour ago. It's from your father." He approaches me and hands me a letter with my court's broken seal on the back of it. I quickly read through it and anger rises in me with every word. Tamlin's demands that I'm returned immediately to Rosehall, "uninjured and safe", before he's forced to take action. After all these years... he still views the Night Court as the enemy. That's who he was talking about all those weeks ago, I realize with a jolt. The invisible enemy that threatened the Spring Court. These people around me. The people that have been nothing but kind and welcoming to me since my arrival. I skim back over the letter, my blood boiling at the audacity. At the ownership implied. Fire courses through me and even I'm a little surprised when the letter bursts into flames in my hands. It's been so long since I've lost control of my magic. It burns for only the span of a single breath before it falls to the ground in a flurry of embers and ash. When I look up from the measly pile at my feet, I see five shocked faces staring at me. Nyx, however, slams his hands on the table as he jumps to his feet. Even Azriel's shadows seem to startle at his sudden exclamation.
"I knew I saw fire the other day!" He nearly shouts. Feyre nods as if she too knew about the fire coursing through me, and I assume that's why neither she nor her mate look particularly surprised by it.
"But how?" Amren asks, her dark hair shifting slightly as she tilts her head.
"My mother," I answer, uncomfortable. My whole life I've been hushed about the origins of my magic, Astoria choosing to stifle her own to keep questions at bay.
"Your mother isn't from Autumn," Feyre counters, confusion in her eyes. "But I felt it when we first met, my magic recognized yours. Like calls to like," she murmurs.
"No, she isn't from Autumn. She's... was, a nomad. Her parents, nomads. Our blood is mixed from nearly every court. Well, the seasonal courts." Understanding dawns in the elder fae's eyes as they nod.
"Interesting. Do you work with all of the elements?" Rhys' eyes flash with curiousity.
"I can," I say slowly. "But my strongest elements are fire and water. Particularly ice." With a wave of my fingers, I summon the magic that is entwined in my blood, and conjure a frozen sphere that sits in the palm of my hand. Clamping my fingers over it, I use fire to melt it and turn it into nothing more than a whisp of steam. I smile as I drop my arm.
"Interesting," Rhys muses again. He makes eye contact with his mate and something passes between the two of them before he turns back to me. "But, this is a discussion for another time. About that letter..."
"What letter?" Nyx says from where he stands. "I don't see a letter. Perhaps we never received a letter." He shoves his hands into his pockets and strolls over to my side, leaning against a tall stone pillar. "Besides, who cares what Tamlin wants? Do you want to go home, Florence?" Unsettling calm radiates off of Nyx, though he is the picture of calm and collected I feel something turbulant under the surface. I glower at him, what's it matter to him? My pride is still a little wounded from Rita's and his sudden interest in what I want rubs me wrong.
"I-"
"It doesn't matter," Amren cuts me off. "Whether the girl wants to stay or not is out of our control." She levels a look at me; not unfriendly but... not kind or forgiving. "Your High Lord wants you back and protocol demands that we return you." I seethe at her straightforward words, but I know that's the custom.
"Can't she just send a letter telling him to get fu-"
"Cassian." Feyre's voice is firm. "We all know how well that worked last time."
"If nothing else, maybe you could return, talk to Tamlin and then if you wish to come back, the door is always open." Rhys offers.
"That's absurd," Nyx argues.
"I don't need you to fight my battles," I snap at him, crossing my arms.
"If she goes back there, Tamlin won't let her out of his sight and you know it," he continues as if I never even spoke. I call to mind the image of me throwing a plate at his head for the second time tonight. "If she does go, I think that one of us should go with her."
"Yes, Nyx. Because nothing says 'no, Tam, we aren't holding your daughter captive' like sending her home with armed guards!" I haven't heard Rhys raise his voice, but as he does so I can understand where his dark persona came from. Intimidating in every sense of the word.
"I didn't say we had to go armed."
"We are always armed, Nyx. Whether with blades or otherwise. And you know it."
"And that's my fault how? We can go peacefully. Which is more than I can say for when you whisked mom off to Velaris."
"That was different!" Rhys is fuming.
"Is it?" Nyx demands, shoving away from the pillar angrily. I blink in surprise as a pair of wings appears at his back, he flares them wide before tucking them back in tightly. His hands twitch at his side as he balls them into fists.
Dark thunder rumbles through the room, shaking the very foundation of the mountain below our feet. We all stare at Nyx as power roils off of him, stark lines of anger etched into his face. Rhysand's own magic rises up against his son's and presses back against him. Older and well versed after centuries of wielding his power, Rhysand has a steady hold on Nyx's uneven brute strength. Out of the corner of my eye I watch Azriel and Cassian edge themselves closer to Rhys and Nyx, blue and red siphons flaring to life. As if they plan to throw themselves between the males should a fight break out; I don't doubt that they would. It could very well come down to that as I look between the two, both stand with their feet shoulder width apart, their hands fisted at their sides. Without much thought, I find myself reaching out and grasping Nyx by the arm. His violet eyes flash to the point of contact and then up to my face. A storm rages within and I wonder what this is really about. I squeeze his arm once, twice. He narrows his eyes at me, but loosens his fingers and with a roll of his shoulders, the wings disappear and the mountain below us settles. I'm the one that breaks eye contact with him, dropping my hand from his arm and looking across the room to the High Lord and Lady. Feyre's brow is furrowed but her eyes are on her husband, silent words passing between them once again. Rhys doesn't look away from his son for a long heartbeat and when he finally does, he reaches up to graze his knuckles across his mate's cheek - a silent apology. She nods her head and finally turns her stare on her son.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, holding his hands out. He at least has the decency to look contrite as he crosses the room to his parents. Feyre cups his cheeks in her hands. Yes, as he looks down at his mom, I can see how a female like Feyre can move cities to fight for her, with her. She gives his cheek a gentle slap and he sighs, looking up at Rhys. "I'm sorry, dad. I don't know what came over me." Rhys nods once and grabs his son around the shoulders before pulling him into a tight embrace.
"I'm sorry too." And just like that, the argument is over. Bizarre. I'm not the only one bewildered by the sudden outburst and it's abrupt end. Amren looks downright disappointed by the fizzled out fight, but Nesta is studying the three of them from where she stands beside the fireplace.
"I can make my own decisions," I say, drawing attention back to myself. "I'm not some object to be fought over. I will return to the Spring Court and discuss this with Tamlin." Nyx opens his mouth to object and he isn't the only one. Cassian also steps forward but I halt them both with an upraised hand. "Do not underestimate me. Tamlin cannot keep me bound to Spring forever. Besides," I shrug. "My mother approved of me leaving, she'll be able to talk sense into him if I can't." Doubt clouds Feyre's eyes for the span of a single blink before they clear and she nods.
"Of course."
"I'll go back to the town house and pack my things, I believe Lucien said he was preparing to leave anyways. So I'll drag him back with me. Perhaps bringing him back home will put Tamlin in a forgiving mood," I joke, but it falls flat. Tough crowd. "Can you take me back down to the city?" I ask Cassian, he nods and steps towards me but Nyx stops him with a hand on his chest.
"I'll take you," he says. Cassian just nods and walks back towards Rhys, they both glance towards Azriel and with a nod, he disappears along with his shadows. Nyx leads me out onto the balcony. "Hold on," he says as he pulls me up onto the ledge into his arms. He takes a step forward and for a heart stopping moment we drop into free fall. Within seconds he summons his wings and we ease into a gentle glide as we ride the air currents down towards the city below, swaying with the warm winds. We don't speak the entire time and when the sidewalk comes into clear view we slow down and hit the ground softly. He sets me down, magics away his wings, and gestures for me to take the lead back to the house.
"Mom says I should apologize to you," he says finally as we turn onto the street with the rows of homes nestled along it. Must've been during that silent conversation between the three of them.
"An apology doesn't count if someone else tells you to make it," I point out without looking back at him. We reach the gate outside the small garden and I push my way inside, not bothering to hold it open for him.
"Fair enough." As I reach out to open the door, his hand flashes forward. He grasps the doorknob and pulls it shut once again, his hand covering my own. "I don't apologize for what I said, but I do apologize for... the way I said it. I'm sorry, Florence." I yank away from his touch.
"Don't do that." His brows furrow as he glances at my hand. "You don't get to just push everyone around you out of your path to get what you want. You don't get to control everything all the time."
"That wasn't my intention."
"You steamrolled over me back at the house. Instead of letting me talk, you spoke over me. That letter didn't concern you in any way and yet you... what? Decided it was your hill to die on? I've said it before and I'll say it again. Tamlin isn't some monster to be feared and there is no reason to treat him as such." Nyx scoffs and rolls his eyes.
"Please, you can say that as much as you'd like, but I grew up hearing stories about your father." Your father. The way he says it has my hackles raising and sends molten fire racing through me.
"And I grew up hearing stories about yours. Did you ever once consider you might've had an unreliable narrator for those stories? Both of our parents have done shameful things. Both of our parents are guilty of one thing or another. And yet here I stand, willing to make peace with yours and figure out if any of those stories were true. You won't even afford my father any small bit of grace." I swat his hand off of the doorknob and push my way inside, slamming it shut before he has the chance to follow. There's a beat and then a small pop to indicate him winnowing away and I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding.