Disclaimer: All but Lyra belong to Sarah J Maas
"Stop messing with it!"
Lyra hissed as Mor slapped her hand away for what seemed like the millionth time, yanking on the material of her dress to put it back into place, leaving Lyra to pout and give her friend a glare. "You're worse than a child." Mor muttered and Lyra saw Nuala duck her head to hide the snickering in the mirror.
"I told you I hate dresses and this one is so formal." She muttered unhappily, shifting and the material whispered against the seat as she did. "I feel like I'm going to prom and I didn't go the first time for a reason."
"Prom?" Cerridwen asked, her voice little more than a murmur on the breeze. She came to stand beside her sister and helped to pull up more of Lyra's hair, working to fashion them into the glittering pins.
"It's a stupid dance kids go to in High school where they get dressed up, dance a bunch and get groped by some drunk date and then try to sneak into hotel rooms to have sex." Lyra grumbled, wincing as Nuala pushed one of the pins into her hair, the metal scrapping against her scalp. The half-wreath gave her an apologetic look in the mirror.
"That's a tradition in your world? Why would you subject children to that?" Mor asked, looking shocked as she settled herself onto the bed, her blue gown flowing around her.
"Exactly." Lyra huffed.
Despite Lyra's protests, she has to admit that the dress that Mor had gotten her was beautiful. It was a rich turquoise, the bodice sleeveless and dipping down to reveal the pale skin between her breasts all the way down to her midsection and lined with glittering stones that almost looked iridescent. It hugged her upper body and waist before flowing downward though a long slit ran up the left side, revealing the skin of her leg as she walked. Nuala had slid a gemmed necklace around her neck, the stones a perfect match to the ones that lay within the dress and Lyra briefly wondered if the thing had come from Amren's collection.
"Finished." Nuala whispered, her and her sister stepping back from her in sync, smiling at her through the mirror. Lyra stood, feeling suddenly nervous as she stared at their finished work.
She felt almost regal with her hair braided back and in this lovely, amazing dress.
Mor smiled at her as she turned toward her, brushing a stray curl back. "You look beautiful." She said, her brown eyes sweeping over her. "Ugh, I knew that dress would be perfect."
"Don't get used to it." Lyra muttered, blushing as she adjusted the skirt.
"We'll see." Mor laughed, looping her arm through hers before they headed toward the stairs and down toward the sitting area.
Cassian and Azriel were already waiting, dressed in their leathers with their Siphons shinning against the black. They looked handsome, but deadly and intimidating.
Mor plopped herself down next to Cassian, fluffing her hair as she did and giving him a grin when he ran his eyes over her and gave an appreciative look. He turned to look at Lyra, those eyes sparking with slight surprise before he nodded approvingly. "You clean up well." He teased, giving her a roguish wink.
She merely flipped him off and Mor snorted next to him.
She glanced at Azriel, who had remained silent and felt the air rush from her as she caught the look on his face. It was so brief, but she caught it, a look of what seemed like almost burning hunger and it sent a warmth pooling to her belly and a blush across her cheeks. He seemed to catch himself, that mask slipping into place before their eyes met and she saw his shadows gather closer around him.
"How am I not surprised I beat Rhysand down here."
Lyra tore her gaze from Azriel's, that blush still burning on her cheeks as she turned to see the High Lady descending down the stairs. Lyra may have felt regal, but Feyre embodied the word in her stunning, glittering dress and crown.
"You know him," Mor teased, standing and giving her an approving smile. "He has to pamper himself."
Cassian had stood too, stretching his wings behind him as he ran his eyes over Feyre as he had Mor and Lyra. A few moments passed as the clock in the foyer struck 11 and Feyre sighed, glaring up the stairs were her mate still resided. When she looked back, she caught Cassian's stare and raised a brow.
"What?"
"You just look so…" the General started, fighting a grin.
"Here we go." Mor sighed, rolling her eyes and Lyra chuckled.
"Official." He finished, waving on of his hands at Feyre. "Fancy."
"God, you put Shakespeare to shame, Cassian." Lyra teased as Mor gave a tinkling laugh.
"500 years old, a skilled warrior and general, famous through-out territories and complimenting ladies is something he finds next to impossible." The blonde snorted, her bracelets tinkling together as she lay a hand on the railing of the stairs. "Remind me why we bother to bring you to diplomatic meetings?"
Azriel chuckled and Cassian threw him a glare. "I don't see you spouting poetry, brother."
"I don't need to resort to it." Azriel answered back simply, crossing his arms as those shadows swirled around his wings.
"Ooooh, burn." Lyra added, earning a raised brow and shake of the head from Cassian. Mor and Feyre laughed, the sound echoing through the foyer before Cassian jabbed Feyre in the ribs. She gave a huff, batting his hands away though she clearly tried to remain balanced with the crown atop her head.
Azriel had drifted closer, watching the exchange, his face that emotionless mask as his hazel eyes roamed over them. Lyra glanced at him, his towering frame dressed in his full armor. He and Cassian each wore seven Siphons and Lyra could see their power beneath the stones, waiting, slumbering.
She hadn't seen him these last couple days, both of them so busy as they each had prepared in their own way for the meeting. Amren had been training with both her and Nesta, with their powers and also offering lessons on Prythian itself. And Azriel had been the one to send all of the letters to the High Lord's and remain behind to spy and try to figure out the best course of action with each of them. She had missed him these last few days but understood how hard he had been working.
He caught her looking and Lyra was surprised when she saw his shadows gather closer, something flickering in his hazel eyes.
"Just envying you for getting to wear pants to this." Lyra said, wrinkling her nose as she adjusted her skirt again, looking down at the flowing material.
"You look beautiful." Azriel said softly, the words so low that Lyra almost didn't catch them. She jerked her head back up, heat spreading across her cheeks as she took in his face, the sincerity in his eyes.
Heat pooled in her belly again and her heart fluttered in her chest. "Thanks." She murmured, unable to stop the small smile that spread across her face.
Rhysand had finally come, dressed in his usual black jacket and pants, though she saw they were even more formal than his usual clothes. He wore a crown as Feyre did and as he guided down the steps, a loving look passing over his face as he caught sight of Feyre, Lyra was struck by how perfect the two looked together.
High Lord and High Lady. The power and essence of the Night Court.
"I thought you were leaving?"
Nesta stood atop the stairs, looking both shocked and relieved that they were still standing in the foyer. She glided down the stairs, chin raised and back straight as she stopped before Feyre, blinking as she took in her sister in all her finery. "You look beautiful."
Lyra slid her gaze to Cassian, saw his attempt to ignore Nesta and remain casual. Mor had told her about her warning to the eldest Archeron and had vented about how she treated their friend. She seemed to be heeding Mor's warning, because she too ignored Cassian, focusing instead just on her sister.
"Thank you. You do as well." Feyre said, though she was watching her sister cautiously. "Why are you dressed so nicely?"
"Because I'm going with you." Nesta said, lifting her chin when she was met with silence. "I… I do not want to be remembered as a coward."
"No one would say that." Feyre said softly.
"I would." Nesta said, her eyes passing over each of them. All except Cassian, who was now watching her with what looked like pride on his face. "It was some distant thing. War. Battle. It… it's not anymore. I will help, if I can. If it means telling them what happened."
"You've given enough." Feyre assured her sister, taking a step toward her. "Amren claimed you were close to mastering whatever skill you need. You should stay. Focus on that."
"No. A day or two delay with my training won't make any difference. Perhaps by the time we return, Amren will have decoded that spell in the Book." Nesta gave a shrug, her face becoming more determined. "You went off to battle for a court you barely know – who barely see you as friends. Amren showed me the blood ruby. And when I asked you why… you said because it was the right thing. People needed help. No one is going to fight to save the humans beneath the wall. No one cares. But I do." Nesta looked down, her fingers brushing against her dress. "I do."
"As High Lady, Feyre is no longer my emissary to the human world." Rhysand explained, offering Nesta a careful smile. "Want the job?"
Nesta's eyes flared, seeming to burn before she said "Consider this meeting a trial basis. And I'll make you pay through the teeth for my services."
Rhysand's smile turned full as he dipped a bow. "I would expect nothing less of an Archeron sister." He teased, earning a poke in the ribs from his mate and he let out a laugh. "You're about to have one hell of a first day."
Nesta actually gave a smile and it made her look lighter, younger than Lyra had ever seen her.
"No going back now." Cassian said, jerking his chin toward Rhysand's wings. Feyre and Rhysand had explained the mask that Rhysand and the others had worn for centuries, that brutal, cunning High Lord that she had seen come out during the visit to the Court of Nightmares. And that after Feyre's suggestion, they had all agreed to come to the meeting instead as themselves, this kind, caring and wonderful family. Whether they believed it or not, Feyre wasn't sure. But Lyra would help them, would share her story of her time here, of being taken in and given a home if she needed too. She would make sure that the others understood.
Lyra had not discussed her decision to remain here yet with any of them, having been sidetracked after Rhysand's offer by the battle at Summer and her training with Amren. Everyone had been so stressed and worried, she had put it aside to focus and double her efforts in training with both Cassian and Amren. If the war was drawing closer, she had to make sure to do all she could to help with it. And maybe, if it came down to it, she could save one of them if it were needed and keep this family intact.
"I figure it's time for the world to know who really has the largest wingspan." Rhysand grinned, slipping his hands into his pockets with a wink. Cassian laughed and even Azriel's lips twitched up into a smile. But Mor gave Feyre and Lyra a look of exasperation and Lyra fought the urge to bust into laughter.
"Twenty gold marks says there's a fight in the first hour." Cassian said, his eyes glinting.
"Thirty, and I say within forty-five minutes." Mor countered, crossing her arms.
"Isn't this supposed to be like super protected with spells and all that?" Lyra asked, raising a brow and smiling in amusement.
"They're lot," Mor said, jerking her chin toward Rhysand, "don't need fist or magic to fight."
"Fifty." Azriel said, surprising Lyra and she gave him a look of amusement. "And I say within thirty minutes. Started by Autumn."
The others turned their eyes to her, seeming to wait and she held up her hands. "I don't have gold or whatever, don't look at me."
Cassian gave a huff of a laugh, though Rhysand turned those violet eyes on her and gave a grin. "You have an allowance that has been set aside, Lyra. So you may place whatever bets you wish." Rhysand held up his hands when she gapped at him, opening her mouth to argue and simply said, "You are working to help us fight that war. I would say that is deserving of being paid."
Lyra blinked, surprised by the words and she felt a blush cross her cheeks. She saw Mor look to her, a soft, loving look on her face as she smiled. "Well," She muttered, clearing her throat. "50 and the first twenty minutes then."
Cassian chuckled, clapping his hand on her shoulder and squeezing. She gave him a smile, which he returned.
"No cheating to provoke fights, either." Rhysand said, his wings tucking in as he gave them each a warning look. "And 75 on the first 45 minutes."
When they looked at Feyre, she only shrugged, shaking her head. "Rhys and I are a team. He can gamble away our money on this bullshit."
Cassian shook his head and Mor shot her a look of deep offense. Rhysand only grinned, looping his elbow through his mate's before he said, "A queen in appearance-"
"Don't even finish that." Feyre warned, flashing her teeth at him and he only laughed.
"Shall we?"
Rhysand checked the clock before he looked to Azriel and gave a nod. The Shadowsinger disappeared and they all waited in silence, the only sound the clicking of the tock in the foyer. After a few minutes though Azriel returned and gave a simple nod. Rhysand looked to Lyra, nodding and she stepped toward Azriel, who would be taking her.
Azriel opened his hand to her, face unreadable as those scarred fingers curled around hers. She stepped closer to him, shivering when those shadows ran along her skin, began to encompass her. She pressed closer to Azriel, the chaotic feeling of his version of winnowing make her stomach twist and she felt his other hand slide around her waist to steady her.
She looked up at him, her face so close and she swore she could feel his own heart speed up just as hers did. His grip tightened on her, hand warm against her side before they landed and his shadows cleared and light poured back in around her.
The sun streaked across his beautiful face, illuminating it and seemed to chase away any of his shadows. He was so handsome and for a moment it took her breath away, the way he looked standing there in the sunlight, his massive wings outstretched behind him. Her whole body seemed to heat as she stared at him, skin tightening on her bones. Azriel stared back, his jaw ticking and she saw his eyes drop, slipping down her body and-
With a hiss of darkness and wind, Mor, Nesta and Cassian arrived, breaking the spell between them and Lyra started, heart pounding as she pulled away from Azriel. Cassian gave a low whistle, looking around the balcony they had landed but Mor's gaze was on them, those brown eyes shifting between them. She lingered on Lyra, brow furrowing as she took in her blush, heard her pounding heart and tilted her head.
Lyra turned away, feeling oddly shaky as she tried to school herself.
She knew Azriel was attractive. All Fae were, though Az stood apart from most. And she couldn't deny she had thought of him like that before, had admired the way he looked. But in that moment, her whole body had seemed to be in tuned to his, had yearned for it. And she swore that Azriel had seemed to feel it too…
Rhysand and Feyre came now, the High Lord's power pulsing as the two landed and in the sun, against the beautiful, clouded sky of Dawn they looked radiant.
This place was beautiful. It was a literal palace, the walls made of a pearlescent material that reflected the sun and seemed to hold it. Large, fluffy clouds floated above, tinted with red and oranges that had remained from the sunrise hours earlier. Lyra took it in, marveling at it before a young Fae man stepped and gave them all a deep bow. "This way, High Lord."
Rhysand offered him a shallow nod, allowing Feyre to slip her hand into the crook of his elbow and they followed after him. Mor, Nesta and Lyra went next, flanked by Cassian and Azriel. Lyra could still feel the Shadowsinger behind her, the heat of him and she tried to get herself under control as Mor looped her arm through hers and squeezed her closer to her side.
"If you ever feeling like building a new house, Rhys, let's use this one for inspiration." Mor said, brown eyes sparkling as she took in the beauty of the palace.
Rhys gave her a huff over his shoulder and Lyra heard the two Illyrians chuckle behind her.
The attendant led them up a spiral staircase and Lyra tried not to look below, where pink and white roses littered the lawn extremely far below. Instead she focused on the back of Rhysand and Feyre, who she could tell were silently communicating as they were led further into the castle, which was a blur of bright, lovely colors.
Whatever Rhysand had said to his mate mind to mind had her smiling at him, eyes filled with warmth as he leaned down at pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Ugh, calm down, mates." Mor teased behind them and Feyre gave a tinkling laugh.
As they drew closer to the open- air chamber above, Lyra could hear voices within though she couldn't make out the words. "Helion of Day, Kallias of Winter and Thesan of Dawn are inside with their entourages." Azriel supplied, his voice a low murmur. Lyra swallowed nervously, tightening her grip on Mor's arm and her friend threw her a reassuring smile, fingers squeezing. As the group of them stopped before a long bridge that connected the half of the tower where they resided and the palace interior, Lyra felt Rhysand's power slide over them, adding his own extra layer of protection to all of them as they crossed the bridge. His face was calm, smooth and his whole body unwavering but as they drew closer to the door of that room, she saw his fingers grip Feyre's tighter on his arm.
The room was open and bright, as all places seemed to be here and she saw several chairs with thick cushions set in a circle with enough to not only seat the High Lords, but all of those who had come with them as well. In the middle lay a beautiful, shallow reflection pool that's water held different colored water lilies and to Lyra's surprise, Koi fish that drifted lazily through the water.
She tore her gaze away from the familiar fish, taking in the sight of all the different Fae around the room and all the power swirling around them. She had made sure to build up the walls around her power for the meeting, knowing that if the other High Lord's powers were anything like Rhysand's, she would need it. Even so, she could feel the magic, though it was muted through the walls and it was obvious from the three that's powers stood out which were the High Lords among them.
One of them stepped forward and from how similar he looked to the attendant that had led them here, Lyra guessed that he was their host. He was handsome like all Fae, with hair that was flecked with gold, upturned brown eyes and a wide, neutral smile. His eyes swept over all of them, his arms opening.
"Welcome." He greeted and several of the Fae behind him with bird like wings had paused to monitor the exchange, eyes vigilant. "Or since you've called this meeting, perhaps you should be doing the welcoming?"
Rhysand gave a light smile, face smoothed and warm as he dipped his head respectfully to the man. "I may have requested the meeting, Thesan, but you were the one gracious enough to offer up your beautiful residence."
Thesan, High Lord of Dawn, gave a nod of thanks, that bland, polite smile still on his lips. As his eyes slid over to them, Mor tugged on her arm to pull her into a bow as the others did as well. All but Feyre, who remained straight, staring back at Thesan as he waited. He clearly expected Feyre, the only High Lady in all of Prythian to bow to him as well but Feyre only smiled blandly and said, "Your home is lovely."
Lyra fought the grin as Thesan paused at her defiance, as he took in that tattoo on her hand and wrist. Lyra could feel Mor doing the same, her chin lifting smugly as Thesan's eyebrows raised and he looked to Rhysand. Feyre's mate only shrugged, a grin on his lips.
The other two High Lords approached, the pale, white haired one reaching Rhysand first. "Kallias," Rhysand greeted, nodding to him though the Winter High Lord only stared back, his blue, sparkling eyes hard. They ran over Rhysand's wings, completely unfazed by them.
Mor let out a gasp beside Lyra, her arm dropping as she hopped from foot to foot, excitement leaking from her so much that Lyra could taste it. One of the Kallias' group, a beautiful, similar looking woman, was staring at Mor, eyes wide and bright smile on her face. Mor seemed unable to restrain herself any longer and Lyra started in surprise when Mor let out a squeal and launched herself at the other woman.
They met in a tangled hug, the squeal Mor had let out turning into a sob as they gripped each other tightly. As they turned, Lyra caught sight of the slim woman's own face and saw tears falling down her pale cheeks.
Then they were laughing and crying, only pulling away from each other for a brief moment to wipe away the others tears before yanking the other back into another embrace.
"You look the same," the other woman breathed, her voice muffled against Mor's shoulder and filled with emotion. "I think that's the same dress I saw you in-"
"You look the same!" Mor insisted, laughing brightly. "Wearing fur in the middle of summer – how utterly typical-"
"You brought the usual suspects, it seems-"
"Thankfully, the company has been improved by some new arrivals-" Mor pulled back, though her arms remained loosely around her friend before she waved Feyre and Lyra toward them. Lyra followed behind Feyre, smiling softly at the happiness shining off of Mor. "Viviane, meet Feyre and Lyra. Feyre, Lyra, meet Viviane – Kallias's wife."
Lyra offered the woman in Mor's arms a smile as she reached out and gripped Lyra's hand in hers. Behind them, Lyra heard Kallias huff and say, "I tried to suggest she stay at home, but she threatened to freeze my balls off."
"Sounds familiar." Rhysand laughed, earning a glare from Feyre that she threw over her shoulder.
"Wife," Viviane repeated, clicking her tongue and nose scrunching as she threw her long, silver hair over her shoulder. "You know, it still sounds strange to me. Every time someone says it, I keep looking over my shoulder as if it'll be someone else."
"I have yet to decide if I find it insulting. Since she says it every day." Kallias said dryly behind them and his wife answered by sticking her tongue out at him.
"It's about time." Mor said, squeezing her friends' shoulder tightly.
"Yes, well," Viviane stuttered, her pale cheeks going a rosy pink. "everything was different after Under the Mountain." She looked to Feyre then, bowing her head as emotion swam in her deep blue eyes. "Thank you – for returning my mate to me."
"Mates!" Mor smiled, practically bouncing with excitement. "Married and mates?"
"You two do realize that this is a serious meeting?" Rhysand drawled, raising a brow at his cousin.
"And that the fish in the pool are very sensitive to high-pitched sounds." Kallias added, to which his mate only responded with a vulgar gesture that had Lyra laughing.
The third High Lord now drew closer, movement drawing Lyra's attention from Viviane and Mor. He was tall and swaggering, a cocky look on his face that had Lyra on edge as his golden, amber eyes swept over them all. They were intelligent, sharp and Lyra could feel his sun kissed power lurking beneath his skin.
He tore his gaze away to look at Rhysand and then to Feyre, studying her with intelligent eyes. "Does Tamlin know what she is?"
"If you mean beautiful and clever," Rhysand said, his voice careful and light. "Then yes, I think he does."
"Does he know she is your mate and High Lady?" Helion asked, staring frankly at Rhysand.
"High Lady?!" Viviane gasped, but Mor quickly shushed her and pulled her aside to explain in a quiet voice.
The two other High Lords watched Feyre now, seemed to take her in fully. Assess her. The look had Cassian and Azriel drawing closer, Siphon's flickering.
"If he arrives, I supposed we'll find out." Rhys said simply, shrugging a shoulder.
Hellion let out a low, dangerous laugh that had Lyra shivering, her own power simmering a bit at the threat beneath that sound. "I always liked you, Rhysand."
Those amber eyes turned toward where Lyra stood, then Nesta and Lyra saw both lust and interest spark there as he ran his eyes over each of them, took in every inch. Nesta stared right back, chin held high and face uninterested and Lyra tried to channel that, even as that look had her shivering. Her own power rumbled in that cage, seeming to pulse in response to the threat and hunger in his gaze.
"Who are your guests?" Hellion purred and the tone had Lyra fighting back a lip curl.
"Lyra is a member of our Court and Nesta is my sister and emissary to the human lands." Feyre said, drawing closer to her sister. "And they will both tell their stories when the others are here."
"She is Fae."
"No, shit." Viviane muttered under her breath, which drew a snort from Mor. Kallias shot them a look, but Helion ignored the two.
"Who Made her?" Thesan asked, his own inquisitive eyes running over Nest with interest.
Nesta lifted her chin, those blue grey eyes sweeping over the three High Lords before she said in a clear, defiant voice, "Hybern did."
There was a beat of silence and Lyra could feel the shock from the other High Lords. Feyre pulled Nesta toward the chairs, watching her sister take a seat before she took her own, spreading out that glittering skirt around her. "They threw her in the Cauldron. Along with my other sister, Elain." Feyre explained, turning to the others and met their gazes with frankness. "After the High Priestess Ianthe and Tamlin sold out Prythian and my family to them."
Nesta gave a nod of confirmation, anger flitting in her eyes.
"That is a heavy accusation to make," Helion said slowly, his sharp eyes blazing as he looked between the sisters. "Especially of your former lover."
"It is no accusation." Feyre answered, holding that gaze, shoulders back. "We were all there. And now we're going to do something about it."
There was another few moments of silence as the others digested this information, took it in. But Viviane broke it when she leaned closer to her mate and whispered, "Why can't I be High Lady as well?"
The others took their seats and Lyra settled in between Nesta and Mor, who had immediately begged Viviane for details of what had occurred between Kallias and the white-haired beauty. Lyra listened to the story, unable to stop the smile from spreading across her lips at the tale of the childhood friends turned lovers. It filled the hour that stretched between when the remaining High Lord's showed up and it filled Lyra with amusement to listen to Mor push her friend for more and more details, even to the point of passing decorum.
"Tarquin is here." Thesan announced after one of his dark-haired attendants showed up and whispered into his ear. Lyra saw Feyre shift nervously next to her. Lyra had learned of how Feyre, Rhysand and Amren had stolen part of the Book from the Summer Court from Amren after looking over the blood ruby that she kept on her dresser during one of their lessons. Feyre had explained further about how guilty she had felt about betraying the youngest High Lord, how much she had respected and admired the kind man. Out of all of the powerful men that were coming today, Tarquin had sounded the kindest.
"Heard about those blood rubies. That is a story I want you to tell." Helion grinned, turning that golden cuff on his arm.
"All in good time." Rhysand merely answered, waving a hand.
Tarquin's crushing blue eyes swept over all of them as he entered, flanked by a woman and man who looked similar to him. The man glanced over their group and Lyra knew instantly that he was Amren's Varian when a flicker of disappointment came over his face when he didn't spy the small woman among them. But when he landed on Cassian, she saw his lips turned down in a dark frown and Cassian only answered with a grin. Lyra would have to ask about that later.
"Forgive me, Lords." Tarquin said, his voice smooth as he completely ignored the lot of them. "We are still recovering from Hybern's attack."
"Of course." Thesan said, that polite smile back on his face as he shook Tarquin's dark hand and dipped his head. The High Lord of Dawn was the only High Lord who seemed welcoming toward the youngest of them, as Helion had become even sharper when the Summer Lord looked to him and Kallias only gave him a cold, icy stare.
By the time Tarquin and the two others had greeted all of them and then taken their seats, another attendant had come to announce that Beron and his family had arrived. Lyra saw Mor tense beside her, that brightness seeming to dim and Lyra leaned closer to her.
Beron was the oldest of the High Lords, looking to be in his forties if he had been a human man, with dark, cold brown eyes, tan skin and brown hair. His wife was at his side, a beautiful woman who seemed to shrink back when others found her gaze. Lyra could only imagine what the cruel Lord of Autumn had subjected her too over the years to make her become that.
His various sons glared and sneered at them, so much so that Dawn's guards shifted uneasily, picking up on the tension between the two courts. Lyra glared at each of them, fighting the urge to bare her teeth as one of them gave her a dark, sinister grin. She felt her power draw up, pounding within her and she would have loved to use it against one of these pricks.
They had all been there that day when Mor was left in the forest. Eris may have made the decision, but none of them had stood up to the bastard. None of them had done anything to help her. She would have gladly killed them all.
Though Beron ignored them, one of them, who looked to be the eldest and that Lyra guessed was Eris, quieted the other three with a simple, "Enough."
Beron said nothing, not bothered by his unruly sons as he scowled at the rest of them, those dark eyes flickering with disgust. Like they were all so beneath him. Lyra took a steadying breath to push her power down, to keep that careful control around it. No matter how much she was sure her friends would be fine with her smiting the Autumn Lord and disgusting sons, it wouldn't help to sway the other High Lord's to their cause.
"Beron." Rhysand said easily, a bit of his power freeing itself and it swirled around them warningly. "It's no surprise that you're tardy, given that your own sons were too slow to catch my mate. I supposed it runs in the family."
"Mate – and High Lady." Beron snipped, his lip curling in disgust as he looked over Feyre's tattoo, her crown. Feyre merely gave him a bored stare in return, which only seemed to annoy him further. Lyra fought back a dark smile.
Eris had turned his gaze to Mor, contempt on his face and Lyra couldn't stop the flash of her teeth, despite Mor's blank stare and that knowledge of their alliance. Eris' stare slid to her, took in that glare and though he looked like he wanted to return her snarl, he paused, seeming to sense that power within her. He hesitated, just briefly and for once Lyra didn't mind the fact that someone feared her.
Thesan and his attendants helped Beron and his bastard sons into their chairs, getting everyone settled before the High Lord turned to the group of them and then looked to Rhysand. "You called this meeting. Pushed us to gather sooner than we intended. Now would be the time to explain what is so urgent."
Rhysand blinked at him, raising a brow slowly. "Surely the invading armies landing on our shores explain enough."
"So you have called us to do what, exactly?" Helion asked, leaning closer and studying Rhysand. "Raise a unified army?"
"Among other things." Rhysand said, nodding. "We-"
Lyra felt the power that gathered a few feet behind them before in a rush of wind and smoke, another man winnowed right into the chamber. He was alone, no one flanking him as he turned angry, green eyes on them all before a wolfish grin spread across his face. Lyra stared, a shiver running down her spine as she beheld Tamlin of the Spring Court for the first time.