Emerie sniffles and clings to Balthazar, stroking his sweat-dampened hair. "I can't believe you escaped. Oh, my gods..."

He looks at her weakly. "We have to warn the High Lord now. Their army is growing every day, and their plans...nearly half of the Illyrian camps are—are puppets."

Emerie's eyes harden slightly. "Bal, how do I know that it didn't work on you?"

"It didn't. I swear it. I—", he swallows hard. "My mother's side of the family are witches. Old age witches. But good ones. She was training me in spells since I was a child. I used a protection spell to protect me against black magic and it worked. I had to make it look like it didn't though. I'm sorry I lied to you before about the healing spell, it was one I already knew I just thought that if you knew maybe you'd be scared or you wouldn't want to be my mate."

Her expression softens and she cups his face. "Balthazar Lane...Nesta is a witch, silly. Nesta, the one who introduced me to you...the High Lady's sister, she was forged by the Cauldron and it not only gave her powers of the fae but powers of witches too. So is the other sister, Elain. They have scryed and such before. I am not afraid of you, Bal. I see your goodness. I see you."

He tears up and envelops her in a hug, brushing his nose against his neck to breathe in her scent. "This is going to be a huge war, Em. Bigger than Hybern. If you saw what I just saw—I don't know if we're going to survive this one."

"No. We are not going to think that way, okay? Hey, look at me", she demands, grasping his dirties face firmly but lovingly and looking into his equally hazel eyes. "I didn't come all this way and go through everything I went through, just to gain and lose my mate. I have faith in Prythian and I have faith in the Mother, that she won't let us lose. You are a warrior, we both are. I will fight side by side with you, Bal. And if we fall, we fall together." She looks down and grasps his hand in hers, interlacing their fingers.

A shaky breath escapes her. "I love you."

His eyes tear up, widening as he squeezes her hand. "I love you, Emerie Bardsley. With all of my soul."

She blushes and hugs him close.

He sighs. "I would never ask you not to fight, because you're a better warrior than me—my Valkyrie", he murmurs, kissing her hand. "But I can be a little protective of my mate, can't I? I can't help it. I will be terrified for you. I will have your back."

She smiles softly and nods. "I know. And I will have yours."

"Come, we need to let them know now. It's urgent."

Emerie nods and grabs his hand, pulling him up. He sways slightly on his feet, still weak from the abundance of magic that had run through his body. "Bal..."

"I'm fine. Just out of practice", he mumbles.

"You're too weak to fly right now."

"I'm f—"

"No. You are not. You can't fly right now. I'll walk to Nesta's home down the street. She can get in touch with Cassian or something. We'll figure it out. In the meantime, you should wash up, hm?"

"Em..."

"No arguments."

He sighs and looks at her wearily, but lovingly. "Alright."

"I'll be back soon."

Balthazar nods, his lips curving into a smile as she sheaths her dagger at her side. "That's my Valkyrie. Always prepared."

She grins cutely and rolls her eyes. "Clean yourself up, my handsome Oristian", she chuckles, taking her leave.

.

.

.

"Nesta?", Emeris calls out peeking into Nesta and Cassian's ground-level home. Silence follows. Slipping inside, she calls out one more time with no answer. Their scents are nowhere to be found either. Grabbing some paper from the desk, she quickly writes and note and addresses it, waving her hand and watching it disappear. She taps her fingers on the desk and troubles her lip with her teeth. Within moments, Azriel appears in the doorway, slipping inside the house.

"Emerie?", he asks smoothly. "What's wrong? Cassian and Nesta are dealing with a situation at the moment at the River House."

"The baby—?"

"—is fine", he responds.

She lets out a breath. "It's a long story, but Balthazar was taken by the Queens yesterday. He protected himself and barely got out with his mind intact, but he is still weak and in bad shape. He can't fly right now. He needs to get over to the River House and speak to the High Lord immediately, though. The situation in Illyria is only getting worse, and Rhysand needs to know the extent of it if we have any chance at winning this war. He would also like to request protection for his mother."

Azriel's eyes shine with something like understanding as he nods silently, mentally realizing that this is his "in", to talk about the Queen's mission without letting his own problem intercede...or having to tell Rhys he defied an order. "Of course."

He holds a scarred hand out to her, a look of genuine care on his face as his eyes flick to her wings and back to her face. Understanding and acceptance.

Emerie grasps his hand and then they are floating through darkness and shadow until they are standing back in Emerie's home. She can hear the shower as she lets go of Azriel, her brow furrowing when he too sways on his feet.

"Az?"

"Hm?"

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"Don't play coy with me. Are you feeling under the weather too?"

"Me? No. Plus, I have way too much work to do to let a small illness stop me. If I were sick, that is. which I am not."

"Does Gwyn know?"

Alarm crosses his face and Emerie raises an eyebrow. "I'm guessing not by the horrified look on your face."

"I'm fine, Emerie. I swear it."

She side-eyes him but sighs. "Fine."

Balthazar comes out in some black trousers and an emerald button-up, his dark wavy hair still damp and his matching green siphons gleaming on his hands.

Azriel takes in the fact that he has clothing at Emerie's place and a small smile creeps onto his lips. "I see you two are enjoying some domestic bliss despite the unfortunate circumstances outside the walls."

"I think so", he replies, grinning. "Oh! Bal, this is Azriel."

Balthazar blinks. "Yeh, no, I-I know. Wow, you are a legend. You and Cassian both. I'm honored to finally meet you formally."

He holds out a hand and Azriel hesitantly shakes it firmly, watching the new male take note of the rigid scars. Whether it was concern or fear, he didn't say a word about them as they withdraw their hands.

"It is nice to meet you as well. You make Emerie happy."

His shadows seem to swarm his shoulders and chest menacingly before he continues. "But I'll have you know that if that ever negatively changes, I will be your worst nightmare. I'm sure you've heard the stories."

A spark of pride flickers in his chest as he watches the male visibly swallow and nod. Emerie, however, rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Az."

"No, I'm glad someone has your back, Em", Balthazar interjects. "I admire that", he says to Azriel.

Az keeps that mask of cool calm on his face and inclines his head. For an Illyrian male, he seems decent. If he is Emerie's mate and if she trusts him after all she has been through, he must be.

He watches them closely, Emerie's body language looking at ease and comfortable around his as she grabs his hand in hers and squeezes. It makes his heart ache to be with Gwyn. But alas...duties call, for both of them.

"Alright, let's go."

Emerie grabs his hand and Balthazar's and they are thrust into darkness and shadow, whirling through space before they are deposited on the front porch of the River House.

As he sways, Emerie clutches Balthazar's side gently. He gives her a nervous smile and sucks in a breath. "I cannot believe I am at the High Lord's home...especially like this."

Azriel grips one of the pillars to steady himself as nonchalantly as possible, then gives them an encouraging look, his body language still rigid. "He will want to hear your story, and how it is you survived", he remarks, looking at him suspiciously.

"I will tell if it will help anyone", he answers.

Azriel leads them through the large home to Rhys's office, lightly knocking on the door, despite his shadows sneaking under it and reporting back. They can hear Elain, Cassian, Lucien, and Nesta inside speaking with Rhysand and Feyre, emotions running high and many of them upset.

"This news could not have come at a better time. I believe it is pertinent to what happened with Elain this morning."

Feyre opens the door and peeks her head out, wiping some tears from her face before taking them in. "Az, this isn't the time for a political meeting right now, I'm sorry."

Azriel inclines his head. "I'm sorry, Feyre. But this isn't about politics. Well...it's about the Queens. Balthazar was kidnapped by them. He has information that pertains to the situation at hand. I think Rhys will want to hear his story. It's important."

She nods slowly and looks at him and Emerie. "Good to see you again, Emerie."

"You as well, High Lady."

"Feyre is fine", she smiles softly. "You two can come in."

They walk into the room and Nesta is clinging to Cassian's side, tears on her face. Elain and Lucien look completely distraught, and Rhys looks like he is at a loss.

Balthazar tells them all his story and Rhys sucks in a breath.

Cassian pipes up. "See? The Illyrian units are dwindling by the day and being used against us, Rhys. There is no other option. I have to see what that old fucker wants. I have to."

Nesta digs her nails into his skin, snapping. "You know it's a trap! How could you willingly put yourself out there to die like that again? Especially now. Our daughter needs you."

"Daughters", Elain mumbles softly.

"What?", Nesta whirls to her.

Elain swallows hard. "Part of my visions...it's...you're carrying twins, Nesta. Twin girls."

"Even more of a reason for you to stay away from Koschei, Cass!"

Rhys pinches the bridge of his nose. "I understand the direness of this situation, and I empathize, Nesta, believe me, I do but..."

"No", she snarls. "Don't you dare say what I think you are going to say, Rhysand."

"Easy, Nesta", Feyre says soothingly, reaching over to place a hand on her sister's arm before she yanks it away."

"No! I will not be like your mate and stand by while my mate is a sitting duck!"

Emerie steps forward and hugs her arm, giving her silent comfort. Rhys growls, his dark tendrils of magic clouding the room.

"Rhys", Feyre warns, slipping her hand into his and squeezing. "Breathe. You know what it's like to worry to the point of sickness. These are her children, her family now."

"I will let that slide this time because of your state of mind, for the sake of your children", he warns.

Tears fall down her face as she faces them all, then Cassian. "You can't do this. You can't you promised—"

"I will come back to you", he says, kissing the top of her hand.

"There is no way you can ensure that! I am not stupid, Cass. I-I can't do this alone. I can't have this...these...babies alone! You can't do this! Please. Please don't do this", she begs.

"Nes, if I don't, what is the alternative? He will come after you to get to me, and that I will never allow to happen. We have no idea what his long game is. We don't know his strategy. He is notorious for being steps ahead. Hell, the only reason he was spelled to the lake is because that witch got fucking lucky. And even confined there he has taken hundreds of females hostage as his slaves. He wins. Every time. So I don't think the plan should be winning, I think it needs to be outsmarting. That's where Az comes in."

Azriel's brow rises as he looks at them a bit shocked. "Cass...I haven't been to Illyria for as long as you haven't." He lies expertly, but his shadows give away his distress, swirling around him.

Rhys leans back against his desk. "How much intel have your shadows garnered? And don't give me the bullshit that you haven't sent them."

"Just the same information that Balthazar gave to you, but my shadows could not get close to the caves undetected."

"Right, so then we have nothing then?"

Lucien growls. "So this is the illustrious Night Court Inner Circle? The fighters? The people who are always three steps ahead? The ones who always tell the Courts to place their fucking trust in!?"

Elain turns to him and puts a hand on his chest. "Lu", she whispers. "Don't."

His eyes blaze with that inner fire, russet eye smoldering and golden eye glinting like molten metal. He wraps an arm around her waist. "Did you not hear the part where his soul is embedded inside of my mate? He has us by the fucking balls, Rhysand! He has Elain. No doubt he will obtain Cassian somehow when he goes to see him...gods only knows who the next Inner Circle target is! He knows that we will give up anything to save them, he knows Cassian will see him to save his mate and children and in knowing that our weakness is our loved ones, he has already won. So what the fuck do we do!?"

He ponders for a moment and sighs. "Cassian goes to see him, but Azriel backs him up, in secret. Elain, if he drags you back to him, you need to try and get as much information from him as you can. Read between the lines, Suss out any potential weaknesses of his."

"And if he doesn't?", she asks.

"He will. You are what he wants. We exploit that fact."

Feyre whirls on him. "We can't use her as bait, Rhys!"

"We aren't. He chose her as bait, We are using that to our advantage. He would much rather flex his power by using astral projection. She will be safe here in Velaris when it happens, as she was this morning with Lucien."

"And Beron? What of his role in this?"

Rhys flicks a piece of lint from his jacket. "Beron wants power and land. Especially now that...that Spring is off the table for him. He will be looking to become more powerful than a High Lord. His weakness is his ego, as I am sure you know. He'll be his own downfall."

"You underestimate him, Rhysand", Lucien grumbles. "He is a bigger threat than you think. He may be a coy bastard, but he is intelligent and sneaky and a trickster."

"Seems like the apple doe—"

"Don't you finish that sentence", Elain snaps.

A flash of amusement flickers across his face and Lucien clenches his jaw. "I may be tricky when I need to be, but it has always served others as well as myself. Including your mate, if you will remember. I bear scars for Feyre."

Feyre's eyes soften as she looks over at him, a note of guilt on her face.

"But I would do it all over again because that's what people do for their friends and their family. Rivalry or not", he snarks, alluding to Tamlin.

"Speaking of which, I really need to get back to Spring for the festival. Maybe forget about this atrocity for a day. Have a last hurrah before we are all ultimately fucked by Koschei."

"I have never known you to be the pessimist who gives up, Lucien", Feyre breathes.

Lucien looks her in the eye. "I will not let my mate die just to be rid of him, so in my one good eye, he has already won. I will not sacrifice Elain to take him down", he says with a deep ferocity. "You and Rhys may be willing to risk your family, but I am not."

"Luc—!"

With that, he is gone with Elain, having winnowed away, assumedly to attempt to enjoy the festivities in the Spring Court.

Rhys drums his fingers on his desk. "Perhaps Azriel should check out that supposed festival. Just to make sure there is nothing fishy going on. We can't be too careful, and after what Tamlin pulled with Hybern—"

"We were wrong about that", Feyre mumbles. "He had valid reasons not to tell me of his plans and...anyway, we were wrong. Don't poke the beast, Rhys. Let him be."

He sighs and nods. "He will be poked soon enough when his supposed mate comes for Starfall. If he lets her leave, that is."

Feyre bites her lip and leans her head on his shoulder. "I guess we'll see. If not, we know where to find her. The Manor."

.

.

.

Amber tackles Mor in an excited hug and presses a kiss to her lips. Mor grins and looks at her beautiful girlfriend, slipping her fingers between hers. "Someone is happy today."

"I'm always happy when I get to see you", she replies.

"I feel a but coming", Mor laughs as they walk down the streets of Velaris between the shops. They had planned on a lunch date today since stressors in both Courts were high.

"Buttt", she grins. "I have a development."

"That's cryptic. Tell me!"

Amber laughs softly and hugs her arm. "I had a visitor at my shop the other day and she had a very specific request that I swore to her would not fall into the wrong hands, but I need your help with it. It's kind of a long and convoluted chain of people but it can work if we do this seamlessly without hiccups."

Pulling her back from entering the busy restaurant, Amber huffs. "We can't take the risk of anyone overhearing me."

Mor nods and squeezes her hand, tugging her into the alley beside it. "Alright...spill."

They glance around to make sure that nobody is around and Amber takes a breath, pulling a letter out of her coat and handing it to Mor. She furrows her brow and unfolds it, reading it over, her eyes widening as she gets to the end of it.

"Is this for real?"

"Yes."

"Aurelia Vanserra gave you this?", she hisses lowly.

"Mhm. She's been coming into the shop for some crafting supplies, but I believe it was to build up her courage and build down the suspicion of her being there too."

"So she's finally doing something for herself", Mor muses. "Wow..."

"I think it has to do with still believing her eldest son is dead."

"Oh shit, I forgot that she doesn't know. But...if it is fueling her to fight for herself, maybe it's a good thing in some way."

"Beron is getting restless, too. Our Court is terrified now that he is allied with Koschei. We don't know what his endgame is, Mor."

"His endgame has been, and always will be power."

"Well, I heard through the grapevine that Tristan took on Eris's duties as emissary. Not that most Courts would even enjoy having him visit. At least Eris was...proper. Tristan is a savage, and I'm sure his anger will get the best of him at one point."

She agrees. "I suppose I should make a visit to Dawn after lunch and let Eris know how his Mother is doing. Not to mention, asking Nuan to whip up a potion. Old me would have never entertained speaking with Eris cordially. But new me...out of my locked up head and heart...things are clearer now. I think I am getting better."

"I think you are getting better and more amazing by the day."

Mor grins and kisses her deeply, lightly pressing her against the brick of the building as Amber laughs into her mouth.

"To think I was entertaining the idea of sneaking over to Spring to see how their festival is going."

Mor laughs. "You did not."

"You're right, I didn't. But I have to admit, I'm curious. Beron was pissed when he realized Tamlin wasn't going to off himself so he could steal his lands."

Rolling her eyes, Mor shrugs. Either way isn't ideal. But I suppose the lesser of two evils...

"I hope that the citizens there have a good day today though. They deserve that. Tarquin is sending the remaining people back for it."

"You are very nosy, aren't you?"

"Oh, I have many friends", she giggles.

"Well, I admire your heart and how you feel for the innocents. It's part of why I love you so much."

Amber grins and takes her hand. "I love you, too."

Mor smiles and squeezes her hand as they walk into the restaurant.

.

.

.

Lucien winnows to the border of the mortal lands, squeezing Elain's hand. "I thought we could catch up and see if Vassa knows anything and had told Jurian. If this is too much for you, we don't have to."

"No, I—", she takes a deep breath and stands up straight. "I can handle it."

He cups her face and she leans into his touch. "I can handle it. I promise. I have you next to me. I'm not too thrilled about seeing him again though."

"Still have some grudge against Jurian?"

She shoots him a look. "Don't I have the right to?"

You have the right to feel however you feel, though, you did forgive me."

"You're my mate."

"Gods, I love when you say that."

Elain smirks and grabs his hand. "C'mon."

Lucien steps over the border then winnows to the Band of Exiles Manor. He brings her hand to his lips and kisses it. "I don't want you to feel stressed today. Let me carry it, I want you to have a good time at the festival later."

Elain turns to him and strokes his cheek. "No. We are equals. We can be stressed together, but also put it aside to enjoy ourselves today. Okay?"

He takes a breath and places his forehead on hers. "Okay", he whispers.

The front door opens and Jurian groans. "For fucks sake, you look like you're about to fuck right there on the front step."

Elain's eyes narrow and before Lucien can respond, Elain does.

"You're too smug for your own good, Jurian."

"Ah, you must be the lovely Elain. I admit, Luci hasn't told us you turned into a firecracker. Though there is something to be said for mates then, I gather", he smirks, tossing a look at Lucien as he closes the door.

"Don't be a prick, Jurian."

"That's his full-time job, Lucien", Elain replies.

"I see it now. The match. Cauldron did a great job with that at least."

Elain growls and Lucien bares his teeth. "Don't go there, Jurian."

"Look, you know that wasn't up to me. I was playing a part, but nobody but Hybern and Ianthe knew about you and your sister, Lady Elain. I swear it."

"You still shot Azriel with an ash bolt!", she snarls.

"Appearances had to be kept or the entire plan would have fallen to shit. He survived, did he not?"

"That's not the point."

"Yes. It is. And don't pretend like faeries have not done worse to get to their own endgame."

Elain clenches her jaw. "You're talking about Rhysand."

"You're catching on."

Lucien crosses his arms. "Elain has nothing to do with Rhysand, or anything that transpired with Amarantha. Plus, you seemed to be on great terms with Rhys last time I checked."

"What is the alternative? To be on his bad side? Some of us don't have the luxury of near-immortality, friend."

Elain sighs. "He is not my favorite person either, but he is still my sister's husband."

"But you forgave him for his horrors, did you not?"

"Forgive? No. Forget? No. But I won't lose my sister over something that she has forgiven him for. He doesn't need mine."

Lucien places a hand on her back. "He's just grouchy because Vassa is gone. She's the one that keeps him in check. Isn't that right, friend?"

"Any news on how to break her curse?"

Lucien sighs. "We were hoping she had some and had told you. I've had Helion look through the archives, but so far...nothing. I wish there were. She's my friend, too."

Jurian nods slowly. "I know. Thank you", he mutters.

He looks a bit surprised but nods, sitting with Elain. "The Spring festival is today. If you want to get out of the house and distract yourself."

"Vassa gave me a checklist of things to do today, I don't think I'll be relaxing any time soon, but thanks for the invite. I wish that sometime soon there will be some sort of harmony but that's wishful thinking."

Elain bites her lip. "Maybe I can talk to them. The people here. I know I am fae now, but maybe they would listen to someone who used to be mortal. Someone who isn't Feyre and isn't attached to a High Lord."

"I'm afraid that would only cause a riot, Lady Elain."

"Just Elain is fine. And perhaps...but maybe after Koschei is dealt with, I don't want anyone else getting involved except who must be."

"You haven't seen anything that would save Vassa?", he asks, a slight hint of vulnerability in his voice. "I know that you're a Seer. There is nothing helpful?"

"Watch it", Lucien warns.

Elain places a hand on Lucien's arm and looks down. "No. I'm afraid many of my visions are fast and blurry."

Jurian sighs. "Well, I guess all we can do is wait it out and hope that destroying Koschei will release her. But...if she is stuck to him forever, and he is somehow taken down, who is to say Vassa won't perish with him?"

Elain swallows, fear in the pit of her stomach. "She isn't the only one. When I tell you that we will try our best to protect her, I mean it. I know what it's like to be attached to him."

Jurian furrows his brow and looks toward Lucien who places a hand on top of hers.

"My father made a bad deal with him during the Hybern war", Elain says quietly. "In exchange for my freedom not to be like Vassa, he allowed Koschei to hide a piece of his soul within me. He can summon me whenever he wants with astral projection, and he has been making a lot of threats and using me to carry them out. So I know a little of what Vass is going through, and you have my word that we are all trying, Jurian."

He rubs his face and scratches his stubble. "Damn..."

Lucien sighs. "We will find a way. We must. For both of our mates." He stands up and Elain does as well. "If we don't see you for the festival, tell Vassa I miss her antics", he smirks.

"Will do."

Elain smiles softly. "I wish I could have spoken with her, but maybe some other night."

"I think she would have liked that."

Lucien inclines his head. "Goodbye, Jurian."

"See ya, Lucien."