Sorry for taking so long to update I hope to make star Sweeper a multi part story. However I will have one shots every few chapters because my brain has no linear thought process. Please feel free to leave comments.

Rhys stared at the woman in Azriel's arms. Though at first glance, he could hardly tell. There were no curves to her figure: nothing but skin and bone. The sight brought forth his worst memories of Feyre after her first few months after Amarantha. Her skin, sickly and pale, looked like it was stretched over her bones, making her body all sharp angles. And she was covered from head to toe in a layer of dirt and grime.

But the dirt did nothing to cover the scars and the two dark lumps in between her shoulder blades. Just the sight made Rhysand shutter at the thought of the pain and the loss. Azriel seemed to notice as well, his jaw set in a firm line. His wings twitched at the sight of the scars.

Of all of his dreams and nightmares that haunted him over the centuries, he never could have ever imagined the sight in front of him. It had been several hundred years since he had buried the mangled bodies of his mother and sister. He could still feel the rain as it mingled with hot tears as he had dug their graves. He had refused to use magic, and despite his brothers offering to help, it was a task he wanted to do. He had tried to bury them alone. `

His brothers had stood guard over him as he had dug the graves and laid his family in the ground. He would never forget the awful dead weight of the coffins that he had laid to rest. Now his sister was here right in front of him as if that hadn't happened, as if Rhysand's mind had to be playing tricks on him. A cruel gross joke.

He reached out with his mind. He hated that he couldn't even trust his own eyes, but he had to make sure. There were no barriers. Serena's mind was unguarded. He knew he drew in a breath as he tried to relax his nerves. Serena flinched at the intrusion of her mind as if she could feel it physically; Rhys tried not to grimaced as well and proceeded as gently as he possibly could. Even at the threshold of her mind, he could feel her deep aching pain. It pulsed through everything she felt, everything she thought. He didn't need to see much of her mind, just a confirmation that it was indeed her. He saw flashes of memory from before her disappearance. He saw his mother. There were Memories of them together, times that he had spent flying in the air with her. Rhys didn't stop the flow of tears as he drew away from her mind. It was her. There was no room for any doubt.

He took a cautious step closer, his hands shaking as he brushed back the dark tangled curls of his unconscious sister. Her face scrunched in pain, with bruises along her collarbone and chin. He couldn't stop himself from wincing slightly. He gathered her in his arms. He still had no idea of what to do. He wanted to keep her close. Maybe in one of the family bedrooms relatively close to his at the river house.

He felt Feyre stir across the mating bond. That made him wince too. He wanted to avoid waking her as little as possible these days. Still, sometimes he couldn't help sending her overwhelming emotions down the bond. Rhys did not doubt that his shock at seeing his sister must have felt like a jolt of lightning. It must have awoken his mate. He could feel Feyre's attention on him now through the bond. Rhysand sent her a brief message of pictures and feelings. The image of Azriel holding Serena to his mate conveyed what had happened. And that he would be returning to the river house shortly.

He felt Feyre's shock and knew that Feyre wouldn't hesitate to bring Nyx and winnow to the townhouse. (She wasn't quite ready to leave him alone with someone that wasn't her or Rhys)

Rhys's throat caught as he thanked Azriel with a nod.

"You should get some sleep," he managed to choke out. "And thank you" There would be time to get information. For now, he needed to make sure he took care of Serena.

There were plenty of questions racing through Rhysand's mind, but he had to get her home.

"Send for Maja," he instructed Nuala, who had been standing nearby. His face was grim as he locked his jaw to keep his face from betraying the agony of emotions clawing in his chest. He disappeared. He was reappearing in the bedroom nearest to the room he shared with Feyre.

Feyre was already there waiting for him to appear. She watched as Rhys gently lay his sister on the soft bed.

Feyre stepped forward. She let out a small gasp at the sight of the scars where Serena's wings used to be. Feyre hands outstretched in front of her, hovering over the bruises on Serena's arms and shoulders. Rhys stepped forward "you don't have to. I've already sent for Maja."

"I want to," Feyre replied.

Her face set in grim determination as she closed her eyes, concentrating, reaching for that part of her given to her by the high lord of the dawn court. Then slowly, the bruises and gashes that marred Serena's body began to fade. The muscles in her face seemed to relax as the various wounds began to heal. Feyre conjured a knife, and Rhys flinched but didn't stop her as she drew it across her forearm. Rhys held Serena's head up as Feyre brought the cut to Serena's lips and let the blood drip into her mouth. After a few moments, Feyre drew her arm away, and Rhysand gently laid Serena's head back on the pillow. Before Nyx was born, Feyre had worked with Maja in discovering her dawn court powers. They had found that Feyre's blood was a cure for most poisons. They were yet to find a poison that her blood could not act as an antidote for. It was a closely guarded secret and a great relief to Rhys, knowing that his mate couldn't be poisoned.

It didn't take long for Maja to arrive. She hurried over and assessed Serena's condition and prescribing a few tonics to ward off any infection but deemed Feyre's healing to be skilled and thorough. It would have made Rhy's beam with pride if it already hadn't been three in the morning and his mood being reasonably grim.

Feyre's shoulders sagged a little at the toll the magic had taken on her. That and the combined with the lack of rest that came along with raising an infant. Rhys guided her towards a couch at the window sill. She had sat down on the plush chaise lounge chair near the window in the bedroom and was now sleeping again. Rhys gently placed a blanket over Feyre and put a pillow under her head. Rhys didn't dare move her because Feyre was an extremely light sleeper these days, waking at any sound that Rhys or the baby made. That was how he had known how exhausted she was earlier that night, before the shocking news of his little sister's resurrection.

Rhys pulled up a chair next to the couch. He wasn't going to leave Feyre alone or his sister. There was no way Rhys would be able to get any sleep anyway if he watched over Serena. He grabbed a stack of city budgets and trade agreements to read, sat down in a chair, and settled in for another all-nighter.