The only thing Rhys knew was that he was in deep, deep shit. And since he was tied up… well, he didn't particularly want to consider where he was, or who, exactly, had knocked him out and brought him here.
The ropes rubbed against his already-raw wrists, and he shifted so that they weren't quite as painful. He felt a sticky trail of blood trickle down his hand, and wished he hadn't struggled against the bonds quite as much.
A groan came from somewhere to his left, and Rhys started. He had been here for what seemed like hours, yet he hadn't considered the possibility that they had taken Cassian or Azriel, both of whom had been on patrol with him. And since Azriel barely ever made a sound, he was gonna take a wild guess as to who was next to him.
"Cass?" He got a low, pained groan in response. Holy Gods, if Cassian couldn't even talk, how badly hurt was he? Stupid gang wars. As soon as they'd defeated the bitch who wanted to use the combined territory of the Courts gangs, the idiotic members of the spring faction had to go off and seclude themselves again! And to make matters worse, they had to go and steal away their saviour, that outsider, who's eyes had made him forget anything else… Hell, he hadn't seen her in months.
Bastards.
"Rhys? That you?" Azriel was here then, and not as badly injured as Cass. Though from the way his voice sounded, he wasn't much better off either.
"Ya, it's me. You ok?" Although his head was pounding, and the sack over Rhys' head prevented him from looking around to find his brother, he heard Az shift.
"I'm ok. You?" Az always was one to keep his counsel. Rhys nearly chuckled. Nearly.
"It kind of depends on what your definition of ok is. If ok is 'I feel like I've been hit by a truck, then been trampled on by a herd of elephants', then yeah, I'm ok." Azriel huffed a laugh, then quickly silenced himself as they heard footsteps echoing down an outside hallway.
As the lock on the door began to turn, Rhys knew that Az, like himself, went limp, pretending to be unconscious.
But for all his training, Rhys couldn't help but tense as the cold steel of a blade was pressed against his throat. Some habits were further ingrained than others, apparently. He would remedy that if he got back to base. Not if he reminded himself, when, always when.
"I knew it." Rhys tensed further. He knew that voice. "You can't act with me, Rhysand. I know you better than that. We're besties, remember?"
"What are you doing Tamlin? Why are we here?" It was Azriel who asked this.
"I'm not doing anything. Simply welcoming you to my faction with all the warmth you deserve. Now then. I'm going to tell you a little secret, but this has to stay between us, ok?" Silence filled the room. Tamlin sighed. "I'll take that as a yes. I'm going to let you go. I'm going to yank these hoods off your heads, and give you five minutes to get off my territory. The only reason I'm going to do this, is because I don't particularly want my dear Feyre to get all upset at the sight of your blood on my hands. Of course, I would never tell her whose blood it was… but with Feyre, you can never be certain. She always wants to know more. She shouldn't of course, she's only used to the rich side of things. Anyway, as to your question of why you are here… I wanted you to see just how much more powerful the spring faction is than you." The bags were ripped off of Rhys', Az's and Cassian's heads, and they were immediately blinded by the searing lights. "Five minutes until I send out the hounds. Your time starts now."