A little note:
Hi! my name is Leila, and I am so glad that you're reading my story. I love ACOTAR and Sarah J. Maas with all my heart, and this is my labor of love for it. I wrote the prologue during a really tough period of my life and kind of just let it sit in my docs until I revisited it and saw what great potential it had. I never thought even a couple of people would read this, so just know if you are, thank you so much for reading my work. Sorry for this note, I'll let you get to the story!
PS. sorry if there are any grammatical errors. It's not my strongest point, but I'm working on it!
Amren POV
I fucking hate the forest. I suppose it is my own fault for becoming friends with Illyrian warriors, who eat, breathe and sleep trees, dirt and all the other unsavory things that this pitiful patch of mountains has to offer. And yet here I am, stuck on top of said patch, with absolutely no idea as to why I even agreed to do so. The air is bitterly cold, and no matter how far I pull my scarf up above my face, the wind still penetrates the thick wool to lash my tender skin. It has only been in my recent months as a human that things like these happen; before that this kind of mortal pain wasn't even a distant memory; it was an experience yet to be had. I long for that now.
"Are either of you oafs going to explain why we're here?" I hiss through the wool, wincing at the wind in my eyes. Cassian turns towards me, obviously unbothered by the harsh conditions.
"You'll see, Amren." he says, beginning to chuckle. The cockiness in his voice paints red in my mind.
"You won't after I rip your eyes out with my fingernails," I mutter. Cassian's chuckle stops. Good. Just because I'm High Fae now doesn't mean that I'm any less dangerous than I was. But damn Rhysand, for calling a meeting in the middle of the wilderness, and only telling Cassian the reason for it. Azriel might know, but if he did, he wasn't showing it, and unlike Cass, I didn't feel like threatening his eyesight. And so, we remain silent, trudging through the thick snow, my knees barely peeking out from the top of it. Finally, we come to a clearing of trees. An empty clearing of trees, without Rhysand, Feyre or Mor here. "Damnit, Cassian, if this is some kind of joke I swear to-" I hiss, but before I can curse him for centuries to come, a loud thump comes behind me, and I know the rest of the Circle has arrived. Azriel's eyes meet mine, his hazel to my silver. "Are you ready for the game?" he drawls. I make sure my snarl is enough of a response.
Rhysand POV:
"I cannot believe I agreed to this." I hear Amren muttered under her breath. I chuckle, not turning back to fully receive whatever withering death stare she's most likely giving me at this moment. Instead, I keep focused, surveying the frigid winter that envelops the Illyrian forest, not minding the cold biting through my leathers. Being here reminds me of being young, fighting for my life in the Illyrian camps. Or at least the happier memories of that. I blocked out the worst ones, when I was close to death, or at least feeling like it, and utterly alone without Cassian and Azriel at my side. I knew they felt the same way as I look towards the two of them, Mor a few steps behind. Warmth fills me as I behold my family, the one I had created after all these years. I had so often worried about turning bitter as the years as a high lord wore down on me like it had done my father, but I know that will never happen because I have Amren, Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Feyre. Especially Feyre. I don't even need to look to feel the happiness that floods me whenever she is present, but I do anyway, sneaking a glance at her face. She returns with one of her smiles, the ones that crack me open to her mercy, and looking into her blue-grey eyes, I know she knows it too.
"Ready to kick my ass?" I drawl, not taking my eyes away from her. Feyre's smile deepens, and so does my yearning to just winnow us away, and ravish her.
"Born ready, Rhys." she smirks. Cauldron, I really need to get myself under control, or else I just know Cassian or Mor will scream at me all evening for ruining everything. At least Amren would thank me, considering how her eight words conveyed exactly how frozen her ass was. Taking a deep breath, I turned to the rest of the group. "Here are the rules."
Mor groans. "There are rules?"
"Of course there are rules, or else we would all be stacked up on your sword before we could even track a squirrel." Feyre replies, a glint in her eye. Mor flashes a grin. "I can't help it that I like to win, especially against these idiots." She juts her chin towards Cassian and Az, who give protesting looks against the description. "As I was saying," I continue, grinning at the exchange, "the rules are that we all pair up, we have an hour to track the largest animal, and the winner is the one who brings home some kind of dinner." Amren's cursing after hearing this send the birds from the trees. "I told you it was a game." Azriel says to her, his voice low. "Not this exact one, you buffoon." Amren hisses, "I hunt alone. Not with two goons tripping up behind me."
"Can't anyone ever just call me by my name?" Cassian mutters. Ignoring this, Amren turns to me. "I only do this if I hunt alone, do you understand?" I shrug. "As long as you win. Or at least try to." Amren narrows her eyes. "Naturally, Rhysand. I always do."