Hello, friends! I'm back! Immediately!
The last chapter was so short let's just get right into this one :) (they'll get longer soon I promise)
Disclaimer: I am not Sarah and I don't own ACOTAR or TOG
Without further ado...
Rhys tried not to move as Freye tumbled into bed. He had not been able to sleep after trying to wake Morrigan, and had lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, for most of the night. Freye was soon snoring softly beside him, and despite himself, despite everything, Rhys felt his lips curl upward at the sound. He lay still as the hours passed, letting Freye sleep. Eventually, he heard Azriel's soft voice and Morrigan's louder, albeit hushed, one. As coming down now would entail too much effort - both physically and mentally - Rhys waited until Cassian's voice joined them in the kitchen before standing up and dressing silently. They would sort everything out. He knew they would. Just because his past was not in the open doesn't mean that it would change anything. Except, that letter, the letter he had burnt, the letter Freye now knew about. It's contents, the plea for help, felt banded across Rhy's eyes. He would have discounted even that, would have said his last goodbye - again - to his brother, had a little kernel of his magic, the part that had gone dead and silent the day Fenrys had left, not awakened.
Rhys shook his head at himself. There were too many variables. He would take one thing at a time. Wake Freye and sort out things with her, if need be. Then go downstairs, and decide what to do next. He sat at the edge of the bed and stroked Freye's hair gently, looking at her beautiful face, her bulging belly. One thing was clear in Rhy's mind. If they did go, once again headed for war, blood, and sleepless nights, the Freye and the son she carried would not be going with them.
As he continued to slowly wake Freye up - in no way did he want to hurry - he thought over all he had hidden. It wasn't even a big deal, it was just… personal.
We're jumping back to Fenrys now bois