Chapter Text
We stayed silent for several moments, my heart beating with each passing second. My eyes drew to the small frown on Feyre’s tired face, her focus on the blue sky outside the window. I wondered how long Feyre would keep her pregnancy a secret from him - how long before her body caved under the pressure and stress.
“You aren’t children,” Rhysand sneered. My attention snapped back to the two male figures beside me. Right, the warehouse situation.
I couldn’t help but stare at him, staying silent even though we both knew he was expecting an answer. I didn’t forget what he did to me last time, so I wasn’t going to give him a response unless Feyre asked me to.
“Do I need to drag the information out of you?”
I huffed in response. His eyes squinted slightly at the indignation, but I continued, “You put him on this mission. Have him answer.”
A corner of his mouth lifted into a cruel smile, baring his teeth in an unfriendly manner. “Let’s not forget who you’re talking to,” he threatened.
I offered him a blank stare, instead facing Feyre. “Do you want me to answer that?”
Her head swiveled, her frown deepening at the sight of Azriel. “No,” she replied grimly. “I have a feeling the warehouse blowing up has something to do with the Faebane that was in his system.”
Azriel’s jaw set, the only indication on his, too still, body that he had heard her accusatory words.
Before Rhysand could open his mouth in protest, Azriel said calmly, “Fine, I’ll start.” His face was like stone, cold and unmoving. His shadows disappeared as if he was trying to hide something. “I tracked down Delvin Mallory, another member from the Guild,” he added in my direction.
“I know who he is,” I mumbled, crossing my arms over my chest.
He ignored my statement, continuing, “He was the last person to speak to Eris.”
I sat a little straighter in my seat. “At the Bee and the Barb?”
He swiftly turned his head in my direction, his hazel eyes squinting down at me. He offered a curt nod in response to my question.
Feyre had said he went missing six months ago, which was a month before Winter Solstice. The Guild was at its busiest that year, ensuring that every home in the Spring Court, even those on the outskirts, had enough money to put a meal on the table.
“It wasn’t him,” I replied confidently.
Azriel didn’t so much as flinch before retorting, “And what makes you so sure?”
“Because he was helping Tonila administer missions. He never left her side until after the Winter Solstice. So either your informant was wrong or,” I shifted in my seat, facing my whole body towards him. My leg crossed over the other, and his eyes tracked the movement. “You were looking for him for different reasons.”
His eyes shot towards mine, but it was Rhysand who interrupted, “Did you know that he would have Faebane on him?” Interesting. His deflection was enough confirmation for me to know that they have reasons outside of Eris to go looking for someone in the Guild.
My gaze slowly drew away from the indecipherable look in Azriel’s eyes, meeting the full onslaught of Rhysand’s withering glare. “Yep.”
His eyes narrowed. “And you did nothing to warn him?” A dark aura emitted from him, simmering around his body.
“Nope.”
Something in him seemed to snap, but it was quickly stamped out as soon as Feyre placed a gentle, but stern hand on his shoulder. Her gaze shifted to him, and I could tell they were having one of their mental conversations. It was several, tense moments before Feyre said aloud, “Did you intend for him to be poisoned and killed?”
“I didn’t, but I probably would have warned him if he and I had actually worked together,” I answered truthfully.
Azriel snorted. “That’s a lie.” Both of his hands rested on his thighs, so he wasn’t basing this off of his dagger Truth-Teller.
“It’s better you found out the hard way. You wouldn’t have believed me even if I did tell you beforehand.”
Azriel’s wing twitched. “And why would I? It’s not like you were very forthcoming with a simple question I had asked earlier.” My gaze involuntarily glanced at his gloved hand that was on my throat that night.
“A simple please would have sufficed, instead of choking me.”
His head tilted slightly, assessing his next words carefully. “It got you to answer, didn’t it?”
I scoffed. “Don’t get used to it.”
Something flashed in his eyes before it disappeared beneath his cold gaze. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
He shifted his body away from me to face his High Lord and High Lady once more. Feyre sat silently, evaluating the both of us.
“I will ask this one last time,” Rhysand voiced, his tone impatient as he glared at me. “What were you doing at the warehouse?”
Feyre offered me a curt nod, so I recalled all the events that occurred during our short stay in the Autumn Court, making sure to leave out the part where I got one of the letters in the Night Court.
Rhysand leaned back in his seat, pondering my words for any hint of deceit. “Does the Guild know that your loyalties no longer lie with them?”
I swallowed past the dry feeling in my throat, my hands clasping together to prevent them from shaking in front of him. It was Azriel who answered, “No. Everyone who found out that night was killed.”
Rhysand smirked, leaning back as though savoring the moment. “Well, isn’t that interesting? ” I wasn’t surprised that he would find me killing my friends entertaining to him. I felt uncomfortable under his watchful gaze as if he was trying to invade my mind once more from his seat behind the desk.
Feyre gently took the papers I handed to her, scanning through the pages. Her brows furrowed as she looked upon the strange symbols.
“I don’t recognize these markings,” Feyre said, handing them off to Rhysand. His silence proved that he, too, didn’t know what they meant.
“There’s nothing in the Autumn Court’s libraries about them. The only other person outside of the Guild who might know would be Hera.”
Feyre perked up. “Those are similar to the ones on your back.”
I nodded just as a knock sounded at the door behind us. I didn’t bother turning as the heels of a woman’s shoes echoed into the room. Looking up, Nesta stood beside me, in a long velvet dress that grazed the floor. The back dipped down in a V-shape, stopping on her lower back. Her shoulders drew in as she pursed her lips. She didn’t even acknowledge Feyre as she glared at Rhysand.
“You called?” she sneered. Her chin lifted at Rhysand’s answering smirk. He tossed the letters, skittering across the desk.
Nesta looked down at the contents without moving. It wasn’t even a second later, before she answered, “I can’t read that.”
He hummed in response before silence followed in the room for several moments. As soon as Nesta opened her mouth, Rhysand interrupted, “You may go now.”
Her eyes burned, low and dim, but it wasn't at Rhysand that her anger was directed at, it was her sister.
“Thank you, Nesta,” Feyre dismissed kindly, refusing to shirk underneath her sister’s harsh gaze.
“I wouldn't let that slide if I had a sister,” I mumbled, grabbing the letters and placing them back in my bag.
“You don’t, and it’s in your best interest to stay out of it,” Rhysand replied darkly.
I opened my mouth, but Nesta placed a stern hand on my shoulder. Feyre’s eyes tracked the motion, her mouth pursing together. “How much longer are we all going to deal with this?” she seethed.
“Please, enlighten us, Nesta,” he hissed. She didn’t so much as flinch. Her steel gaze remained firmly locked on her sister, as though his words hadn’t even grazed her.
“We should discuss this another time,” Azriel pressed, his voice low and urgent.
She ignored both of them, their demands falling on deaf ears. She looked down at me, as she revealed, “Nyx is hiding again, which seems to be a reoccurring problem when his father is here.”
I nearly jumped out of my seat, but Feyre quickly amended, “He's still here in the House. No need to add unnecessary worries.” Her slumped shoulders and Rhysand leaning over his desk was no accident earlier then. It was probably that moment they found out he went into hiding again.
“I can assure you that he's doing just fine,” Rhysand snapped. “That is not your place to say, Nesta, among other things.”
“Maybe she's the only one willing to call you out on your bullshit,” I defended. His son wasn't the only person who didn't trust him.
“What exactly are you both implying?” A menacing aura surrounded him as the shadows in the corner of the room darkened with him.
Nesta's smile was cruel. “We can begin with how you let Az take the heat for your son’s anger, even though you're the one who ordered him to kill Lydia.”
It was Feyre who answered, “You know we didn't have a choice.” I sucked in a breath. What did she mean by that? Was this somehow related to this J'zargo person?
“Oh, I thought we always had one,” she said pointedly at the High Lord simmering in his seat.
“There is a lot you are uninformed about,” he snapped.
“Then why?” I murmured. The question that had often haunted Nyx and me at night.
“That is enough. You both only need to know the details that we tell you.”
I stood up, Nesta's hand slipping from my shoulder. “Then if you can't even be honest with us, then at least start by telling your son the truth. Maybe he'll start to respect you if you can even manage to do that.” My eyes honed in on a small patch of black, charred skin peeking out from under his shirt sleeve.
A small growl emitted from Rhysand as he stood, fixing Nesta and me a harsh glare. “Leave, Nesta,” he commanded.
She offered him a parting smirk. “Of course,” she said before swiftly turning on her heel and closing the door in her wake.
The room was eerily silent. The shadows hovering in the corners of the room swirled together in anguished strokes, matching the ones that now surrounded Azriel as I turned around to face the three of them once more. Rhysand’s face morphed into a mask of disdain, and all of it was settled at me.
A harsh breath escaped my lips as I tried my best to decipher what just happened, but thoughts failed to land in the storm inside my head. I'll have to talk with Nesta and Feyre about this later.
Azriel’s jaw set. His shadows slowed, more calm and collected as if they were being forced against their will. It seems he knew more than he was letting on as well.
“I think this meeting is over,” Rhysand said coolly. “You two can leave now.”
“Gladly.” I was the first to turn around, heading for the dark wooden door.
“Wait,” Feyre called out. Her brows were drawn together in worry, the frown on her face making her look older than she was. Her skin had paled to a worrying hue, and a haunted look settled in her gaze. “There wasn't anything besides a new town along the Wall.” I sighed, a hand running down my face. “I'm sorry,” she added. I wasn't surprised she didn't find anything either.
I didn't say anything as I walked out of the room. A whirlwind of emotions swirled in my heart, but I stamped it out with a mental grip, heading to my room in search of Nyx.
“Hold on,” a deep voice called. I stilled, clenching my hands by my side. I slowly turned around to find Azriel, a couple of feet away from me.
“Aren't you supposed to be hauling ass out of here?” I asked angrily. He glowered, his shadows slashing at the air around him.
“I'm assuming “hauling ass” means I should be leaving right now?”
I snorted. I didn't feel like having this discussion right now when I should be looking for Nyx. “What do you want?” He stood straighter, his muscled arms bulging through his leathers as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Your power,” he answered. “It’s easier for you to phase on your own or with other people, but not through solid objects.”
“Is that supposed to be a question?”
He took a careful step towards me. “You didn’t have enough energy to phase us both through the ceiling,” he continued. My emotions ceased for a moment, recalling the moment when we almost didn’t make it out. I hadn’t had time to think about where that power came from or why, and any attempts to call it again were futile. “How’d you manage to get us out?”
My eyes squinted up at his tall frame. “Why do you wanna know?”
“I need to know if we’ll die next time if you can’t call it again.”
Fair enough, seeing as we were stuck working together. “I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “It just…appeared.”
“What do you mean it just appeared?”
Memories of that night flooded into my mind of the dark essence that slithered its way into my body, merging with a hidden spot within me. It had a mind of its own. “Just that. I can’t call it either, I’ve tried.”
He didn’t waste a second as he said, “We’ll need to work on that.”
“Like you’re going to train me?”
“Along with other things too.” Excuse me? What was that supposed to mean?
“Auntie Leah!” Nyx yelled, any retort dying on my lips.
I turned around quickly to find him running down the hallway toward us. His tiny feet slowed as he reached us, his face scrunched at the sight of the person beside me. He glared up at Azriel before grabbing my hand and dragging me down one of the long hallways.
The moment with Azriel was forgotten. Nyx tugged me away, his small hand tight in mine. He looked up at me, his eyes filled with that stubborn pride that made my heart ache with affection.
“Let’s go, Auntie,” he muttered, pulling me faster down one of the long hallways.
Once we were out of earshot, I asked, “Where were you? Nesta said you were hiding again.”
“I wasn’t hiding.” His hand squeezed mine, not enough to hurt, but enough to indicate that he didn’t want me to let go yet. “I was doing my part of the deal.” The one from his first hide-and-seek game? That was the only deal I could recall him having unless he made one when I wasn’t here.
We reached a spiraling staircase that led up to the roof. He released my hand, sprinting up the steps as he huffed, “1-2-3, Go!” That little cheater.
I ran up the steps, taking it two at a time. It only took a couple of seconds for me to pass him up, laughing as he groaned in frustration. I said nothing as I beamed down at him from atop the staircase. He took labored breaths as he ran up the last few steps.
“Your uncle needs to make you do more laps,” I teased.
“I’ll beat you one day,” he vowed.
I placed my hand on top of his head, shaking him lightly. He giggled, the sound echoing in the empty hallway. A smile tugged at my lips as I teased, “I know you will.”
His nose scrunched together. “I hope you’ll be there to see it.” A dull sting stabbed my heart.
He grabbed my hand again, knowing I wouldn’t have a response, as we walked through the door that opened up to the rooftop. “I want to show you this super cool move Uncle Cassian taught me.”
“Sure, Nyx,” I whispered. “Show me anything you want.” Because one day, he won’t be able to show me his new moves play games with me, or hold my hand anymore. He’ll be stuck here with his confusing family. For so long, I hadn’t felt the hands of time clicking away at our time together, until we arrived at the Night Court. So for now, I savored our little moments together like they were our last.
We had returned from Nyx’s little showcase of throwing his wooden sword in the air and catching it. He may have failed to catch it the first few times, but he got it eventually.
Nyx was in the shower when a small note slipped under the bedroom door. A heavy weight suddenly settled on my shoulders, my legs dragging against the floor as I trudged across the room to pick it up. It had a small map with a red circle drawn on it. I memorized the location and promptly threw it into the fire.
I sat on one of the couches in the room, sinking into the soft cushions that faced the firepit. Black specks swirled in the air, lifted by the crackling flames as the occasional pop broke the silence in the room. In the fireplace, vibrant gradients of red, orange, and yellow bled into one another like molten hues, casting a soft, flickering glow that bathed the room in a cozy warmth.
Some part of me felt that Miriam was forcing me on these side missions for a reason. For 5 years she never allowed anyone in the Guild into the Night Court, specifically asked for me to be the one to take on a mission, and was now sending me on these calculated missions. There were too many unknowns around her, but unfortunately, there wasn’t an opportunity for me to spend more time gathering information about her.
Unless I could get to the bottom of what the Thieves Guild has been hiding for years, and to do that, I would need to find Eris. My thoughts were interrupted when a small warm body crawled onto my lap. Nyx’s head rested in the crook of my neck, curling himself in a comfortable position. Both my arms raised to hold the young boy closer to my body, as I rested the side of my cheek on top of his damp hair.
“Do you have to go again tonight?” he murmured, idly playing with one of my box braids.
I sighed, squeezing him a little tighter in the process. “I’m sorry, Nyx.”
His chest slowly rose, before dropping suddenly. “I know.” We stayed like this for a few more moments, basking in each other’s company until the sunset.
I must have fallen asleep at some point since I had woken up to Nyx poking the side of my cheek. He held a plate filled with roasted chicken and stir-fried vegetables to my face.
“Thanks,” I yawned, gently grabbing the plate from his hand. He grabbed his plate from the table, sitting next to me as we ate our food.
“Do you think I will see Blaise and Auntie Hera again?” he asked around a mouthful of food.
“I’ll answer that once you swallow your food.”
He chewed the contents in his mouth for a few more seconds before swallowing in an audible gulp. “I did it!”
Sometimes it was hard to forget that he was still an innocent child, especially at times when he would act so calculated and mature.
“I think so,” I assured. “You should ask Feyre.”
He was silent for a moment, before mumbling, “I could ask Mother.” His face scrunched together like the word tasted sour in his mouth. A pang of jealousy stabbed at my heart, but I quickly shifted it away.
“Yeah, I’ll ask Feyre tomorrow,” he settled on saying. That will take time, I guess. He rose from his seat, taking his empty plate with him. He was a fast eater.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“I’m going to find something sweet to eat.” Then he ran out of the room. His giggles muffled as soon as the door slammed shut behind him. A wave of doubt washed over me. He could have easily asked the House for something sweet. I just hope that whatever mischief he was up to, it wouldn’t be as bad as vandalizing the House of Wind.
I sighed and went back to clearing my plate. That would be a problem for later. For now, I had a mission to prepare for.
My steps were silent as I traversed the long downward spiral in the empty library to its front entrance. The only thing I could make out was the dark outlines of bookshelves, couches, and tables. My hand trailed over the solid, wood railing with my black cloak wrapped around my shoulders, Lucien’s sword hidden underneath. All the priestesses had gone to their quarters, except for one.
Light spewed from the opening front entrance door, Gwyn’s hand pulling on the knob. I added extra weight to my steps, a soft thud with each movement. Her head swiveled in my direction, blue eyes glowing softly in the dim light. The corners of her lips drew into a bright smile, and I couldn't help but smile back at her.
“Where have you been hiding?” she teased, closing the door behind us as we stepped on the smooth stone streets of the town. The moon was covered by clouds of gray, sparse rays of light breaking through the soft barrier.
Gwyn grabbed hold of my arm with hers, our shoulders lightly bumping into each other as we walked.
“Oh, just busy with work,” I said aloud. For a moment, I allowed her into my head to say the words I couldn't say out loud. I've been working with the High Lady in exchange for her help to get me back home.
She stopped us both in the middle of the street, turning to face me. If she was surprised by the sudden invitation into my mind, she didn’t show it. “You should come hang out with us tonight.”
Her voice echoed in my mind - After your mission .
“I would love to, but-”
“I’ll see you there!” She grinned wickedly at me, before walking off with a wave. I stood there, stunned momentarily at her abruptness. Fine, I’ll be there tonight.
I drew the hood of my cape over my head, blending myself in with the shadows. My steps were light as I made it through the maze of unlit alleyways. As I made my way to the outskirts of town, the size of homes became smaller, less spaced out from their neighbors. Flecks of paint peeled off the outer walls of the houses, some of them with boarded-up windows. The once smooth stone streets transitioned to more rough and jagged edges. The lights were out in most homes at this hour, but a couple of homes had a candlelight on.
My steps slowed as I approached a weathered brown house, its roof marked by bare patches where wooden planks should have been, the gaps exposing the rafters beneath. White curtains blocked me from seeing inside through the windows. The front door was closed shut, and large cracks sprawled around the door knob. Someone must have forced it open at some point. I inched closer to the side of the house, aiming for the closest window. My ear hovered over the glass.
Silence.
I checked the next window. Silence again.
I rounded a corner when something caught my attention. A brown, shaggy dog sat obediently by a window, her tail wagging at the sight of me. Her paws were covered in dirt.
It was the same dog as before, except this time, her ribs were less pronounced and her stomach was slightly more plump. Though none of that was enough to hide the hunger in her eyes.
She lifted onto her hind legs, her front paws raised in the air. She stood like that for several seconds, before standing on all fours again. Weird dog, but it was kinda cute.
I took a step in its direction and it ran up to me from its spot, rubbing its nose against the hand at my side. My hand raised to stroke the soft fur on its head and she leaned her head against my thigh.
My mind opened a sliver, saying words I couldn’t speak aloud at the moment. Sorry little lady, I wish I could help you, but I have a mission right now.
Her tail halted, looking up at me with those keen eyes like she understood. She pulled away from me, running around the corner I just walked around. I followed after her, finding her sitting beside the first window I checked. Her nose pushed against the wall as if she was trying to get in.
I walked up to her again, placing my hand on her head. But I already checked this window.
She lifted her head, and gently held my hand with her mouth. I let her guide it to the wall, dropping it right before it could make contact with the wall.
My hand touched the dog once more. Fine, but I hope you aren’t trying to set me up. The dog pulled away, heading around the house and out of sight. I phased through the wall, my vision going blurry for several seconds. A single, small bed sat in the corner of the room. Its covers were pink and tattered, small strips of cloth hanging from the old fabric. A small bear sat on top.
Before I could scan the rest of the room, a dark figure wriggled from an open gap in the wall that led to another part of the house. Lucien’s sword was freed from its holster on my back, holding it in front of me. It felt heavier than before, an uneasy feeling creeping within me.
The metal in my hands lifted, a second away from striking before a dark figure quickly rose on its hind legs. Lucien’s sword fell in time with the dog landing on all fours again. It pranced over to me to nuzzle its nose against my hand again. The sound of its nail scraping the floor caused me to freeze. The sound of wood scraping against the floor sounded outside of the room. The dog pulled away as soon as the bedroom door swung open. It was hard to make out the newcomer’s facial features, my eyes still unadjusted to the darkness.
The dog pounced, forcing the Fae to the ground with surprising strength. It was fast. Faster than any beast I’ve seen in my years of living in this world. A loud humph escaped his lips, followed by the gurgle of liquid blocking an air pipe. The dog’s mouth was clamped around his neck, and the loud crunch of bone breaking echoed within the room.
My heart beat against my chest, and I slowly walked over to the dead man. Who was he? And why did the dog help m-
The dog stomped on the Fae’s head, repeatedly attacking as layers of skin and bone revealed a mush of brain. She leaned forward and began pulling and chewing the brain with her teeth, fiercely eating her gruesome feast. The shimmer of blood that coated the pink strands glistened in the dark. I sat there, stunned into silence. I took a tentative step back, holding my sword in front of me once more. Sometimes I wished my eyes couldn't adjust to the dark.
The dog stopped, blood soaking the fur near its mouth.
It took one glance at my form, sword raised in front of me, and laid itself down and rolled onto its back in submission. Its tail wagged as I took a small step towards it. This ain’t no regular dog. I should have questioned it more last time, but I was too out of sorts.
It rolled onto its front paws, slowly crawling towards me and whining softly. I placed a tentative hand on its head, its eyes closing at the action. What are you? A question I should have looked more into last time.
It perked up, prodding over to the bed where it pushed its face under the pillow and pulled out a paper. I gently grabbed it, finding a drawing scribbled in black of a little girl and the dog. To the far left of the page, a tall figure with horns on its head stood by a hastily drawn door. I glanced away from the drawing, finding a stuffed bear in its mouth. It caught me staring and promptly trotted out the bedroom door. It sat by the front door, waiting for me to open it. Going out the front wouldn’t be the smartest move.
“I’ll meet you outside a different way,” I whispered. The dog walked away, probably heading out the same way it got in. I took a moment to quickly scan the rest of the house. There was only a shoddy living room with a single armchair and a kitchen tucked in the corner of the small space. It was about half the size of the bedroom Nyx and I shared in the House of Wind. The only other room with a door was the bathroom. I didn’t even want to think about where the male slept if there was only one bedroom. I walked to a window near the back of the house, peeking through the curtain to see if anyone was out.
When I deemed it safe, I opened the window and crawled through. The dog waited patiently for me by the window, trotting down the dark alleyway. At the end was a small plot of dirt that looked recently dug. The dog placed the bear on the mini-grave that I assumed it dug. My hands found its dirty hair, offering gentle strokes on its back as she stared at the dirt.
Thanks for helping me. Its tail wagged slowly in response. Come by the library under the House of Wind if you want real food. It licked my hand, turning its attention to the grave site once more. I quietly stood up and headed towards Gwyn’s apartment alone.
Thanks to the dog, there was no blood staining my clothes. My hand hovered over the gray door in front of me. Before I could knock, it opened to reveal Gwyn standing in a white nightgown that reached her knees. She beamed at me, placing a hand on my shoulder.
“I knew you’d come,” she smiled. Leave the sword and cape in the closet. Their stuff is in my room so you don’t have to worry about them finding it.
“Thanks for inviting me,” I murmured, stepping into the warm apartment. I promptly took my cape and sword off, placing it in the closest near the front door. We rounded a corner, heading to her bedroom. Emerie leaned over Nesta’s shoulder, reading aloud the words on the book in front of them.
“ His cock pushed through the walls of her tight asshole. She gasped at the new sensation, arching her back -” She stopped, looking up to find Gwyn and I striding into the room. Nesta looked at the three of us with a bemused expression on her face.
“Why’d you stop?” I teased, but a large part of me didn’t feel like I should be here. My heart wasn’t into the light-hearted scene, and I hoped I wouldn’t be here long so I could just go to bed, especially after my mission tonight.
“She-” she pointed to Nesta sitting beside her on the bed. “Said you haven’t read to that point yet. You should read what happens after this scene on your own and tell us your thoughts on it after.” She grinned deviously as if she was keeping a huge secret.
I laughed, coming out strained. Nesta’s ear twitched at the sound, and she observed me with keen eyes like she was used to seeing through this kind of facade. She patted the empty space beside her. “Sit.”
I shook my head, leaning against the wall. “I’m alright right here. I don’t want my outside clothes on her bed.”
“If you won’t take it, I will,” Gwyn said, hopping onto the spot. Emerie gave her a playful scowl, but Nesta’s eyes remained fixated on me.
“I wanted to thank you for earlier today,” Nesta began, straightening her back. “For agreeing with me in front of everyone else.”
A corner of my mouth rose into a small smile. “If you ever want another go at him, I’ll stand by your side.” She offered me a sharp nod.
“Anyways…” Emerie pushed her way in front of Nesta and Gwyn, earning her a scowl from the former. An air of excitement filled the room, but my body was closed off to it. “I found a healer. Found her working in one of the huts back at the camps.” I didn’t need two healers helping me, seeing as Madja agreed to help me.
Gwyn nudged Emerie’s shoulder with her own, a grin spread over her face. “You forgot to add the part where she agreed to work for the orphanage once it’s done.”
Nesta snorted. “It's because she doesn’t want to admit that the girl has a crush on her.”
Emerie glowered slightly and I quickly interrupted, “Thanks for doing that. I found someone who can help as well.” This was something she needed to figure out on her own time, especially something as conflicting as a love triangle. “Your healer won’t be doing the operation with me, but tell her to come. She’ll need to know how to do it when she goes back to the Illyrian camps.”
Emerie’s brown eyes widened, her head perking up slightly. “Who’d you find?”
“Madja agreed to work with me, but I still have some more studying to do before we can start examining you.”
She blinked. “You managed to get the High Lord and Lady’s personal healer to help you?” A hint of disbelief crept into her voice.
“Yep, Feyre showed her my research papers on the c-section.”
Nesta snorted. “It seems my sister was able to do something at least.”
“Nesta,” I said gently. “I don’t know the full details, but a lot is going on behind the scenes that we don’t know about.”
Her eyes hardened, snapping at me, “Careful, you’re starting to sound like that mate of hers.”
“It’s true though,” I defended, unyielding to her sharp gaze. “You’re right in the fact that what Rhysand’s doing is wrong, but a lot is going on with Feyre outside of him and politics as well. She needs him off her back while she tends to other things, like her son.” She mulled over my words silently, her finger lightly tapping over a covered knee.
Emerie huffed. “He should be more focused on calming everyone in town and the restlessness in the camps. With the recent murder a couple of weeks ago in the warehouse and the High Lord’s son lashing out against him, people have been… on edge.” Those may have been my fault.
“Did you end up asking Feyre if she would officialize the Valkyries?” I asked, hoping it would steer the conversation away from all of that.
The three of them looked at each other, quiet resignation etched on their faces. Emerie continued, “Mor agreed with your plan.” I wondered how that conversation went. Her hand clenched, her wings tucking in close together as she spoke. Gwyn rested a gentle hand on her fisted one, and Emerie relaxed slightly at the touch. She looked up at me, a storm of emotions beneath her dark brown eyes. “You won’t be the one stealing it, we will. You’ll be the distraction.”
“Works for me,” I said. “I only ask that I look at it before we hand it off to Feyre or Rhysand.” Gwyn and Emerie turned their attention to Nesta, whose eyes were assessing me carefully.
“You were right to be suspicious,” I admitted. “But there is som-”
Sparks of pain laced through my body, stemming from a distinct spot on my hip. The Thieves Guild emblem burned, my hand clenching at my hip. Her eyes roved over my body, searching for the source. “All I can say is that it will protect someone we both care about if I do this.” I hoped she could see my need to look at the artifact, and hopefully question why it was her I was trying to reach out to.
Her lips pursed together. “Are you certain that this will help?” she asked, a bit hesitant.
My head cocked to the side, and I stared into Nesta’s blue-gray eyes as I assured her, “I’m certain this will help this whole family.”
She blinked once. And then twice, before answering, “I’ll be the one to let her see it.” Gwyn leaned back in her spot, her hands behind her to anchor her.
“I can’t leave here with it being a shitshow,” I added.
Emerie snorted, but it was Nesta who disclosed, “We tried scrying on your necklace… ” I froze in my spot, my hands becoming sweatier with the passing seconds. “I saw the Eldergleam tree. But when I tried to look…beyond it, all I could see was fog. Like it was being warded or protected by something.” I released a heavy sigh, and her chin rose as if she was facing some sort of challenge. “It exists though. Your way home.”
“Thanks,” I uttered. I should feel hopeful or even happy, but after years of disappointment, I just couldn’t bring myself to feel like there was progress.
“I’m not done yet,” she asserted, her shoulders rounding as she lifted her chin. “I’ll talk to Amren and see what she has to say.” I offered her a tired smile.
“Thanks again,” I murmured, my gaze fixated on the light blue comforter.
“Hey,” Gwyn whispered, drawing my attention to her. “I would offer for you to stay the night with us, but I’m assuming you want to head back.”
I nodded silently, standing up from my position against the wall. Gwyn hopped off the bed, padding over to me. “Come, I’ll walk you out.”
“Next time, you better have finished the book!” Emerie called out. I chuckled, waving them both goodbye as I headed out of the room. Nesta’s answering laugh told me enough of what she thought of her friend’s statement.
I put Lucien’s sword back on my back, the cape covering it once more. I opened the door, stepping outside before facing her. “Thanks for inviting me again,” I exclaimed.
She smiled warmly at me, her hands behind her back. “Anytime,” she beamed. She pulled her hands out from behind her, revealing a small bottle of wine in her hands. “This one makes humans see colors.”
I laughed, taking the small bottle and placing it in my pouch. “You’re like some sort of plug.”
“I’m going to assume that’s a word for someone who likes to give their friends gifts in your world.”
I took a step back. “Yeah…let’s go with that.”
She chuckled. “Goodnight, Aaliyah.”
“Night, Gwyn.”
The door to the library didn’t make a noise as it swiveled open on its hinges. I locked the door silently, turning around, and my steps halted as a figure emerged from the dark. Elain stood behind a small rail on the spiral path that led further down into the library.
“Is the job done?” she whispered. I nodded in response, ignoring the festering anger in my heart. Her soft features twisted on her face, her lip curling as she sneered, “Liar.”
“What do you mean “liar”? The man’s dead. You want me to describe how his brain looked to you to prove it?”
She took a step towards me, her feet silent against the hard floor. “You didn’t kill it. The dog did.”
“What does it matter who killed the guy? All that matters is that he’s dead.” And how did she know the dog did it?
“You don’t get to decide what matters,” she seethed. She roughly turned on her heel, walking down the dark depths of the library. “Come with me.” I stood still, unmoving.
“Come with me,” she repeated, sharper this time. Pain seared from the emblem on my hip, dragging me forward with invisible hands. What kind of magic was imbued in these things? Tonilla never used its power against me like this in the Spring Court. I couldn’t recall another time-
Maybe Brynjolf used its power against Mercer that day in his office. A sinking feeling grew in the pits of my stomach if that was true. What if she used it to try to get information out of me? Going ethereal wouldn’t help when the abusive magic was embedded into my skin.
Elain’s steps were slow, measured, as though she’d planned each one long before she took it. The sound of distant whispers hummed in my ears as we went deeper into the library. A wall of black clouded my vision, and I had to rely on the railing to guide me. Her footsteps stopped when I assumed we had reached the bottom. I felt, more than saw, an eerie, familiar presence hovering in the center.
“Oh, Bryaxis,” Elain cooed. The air sparked with nervous energy. “You remember when she captured you, right?”
“ Dreamslayer ,” it breathed, a hint of familiarity in its voice.
“Yes, that,” she dismissed, waving her hand in the air as if she was bored. “I need you to do something for me.”
“ You, who were blessed by the Cauldron to see beyond- ”
“I suggest you shorten the speech,” she interrupted. A wave of unease followed, ebbing from a spot in the center of the library. See beyond what? She was a Seer, that much everyone knew. But what was she hiding that Bryaxis seemed to know?
“ What is it that you seek? ” it settled on saying.
“Show me her worst nightmare,” she ordered, each word clipped and precise. Her gaze flicked to me, cold and assessing, as though she were already calculating the fallout. I took a step back, halting when she demanded, “Stay.” My body froze, pain lacing through me at any attempt to resist. I was powerless against the emblem's power. She walked over to me, her soft fingers grabbing my chin.
“Why not just ask me out right?” I seethed, clenching my hands to hide the tremor that began to wrack through them.
“I could,” she began, her other hand raising to push a braid out of my face, before roughly letting me go. “Failure has consequences, Aaliyah. It’s nothing personal.” She faced the dark mass once more. “Go ahead.”
A harsh chill seeped into my bones, my body shook violently at the sudden drop in temperature.
“ Nightmares are born from truths you cannot face, Dreamslayer ,” it hissed before spots of light flooded my vision, blinding me from seeing my surroundings. I shut my eyes, trying to block out the harsh intrusion.
My eyes flew open at the sound of anxious murmurs fluttering throughout the space. My heart dropped at the sight of Lucien, his golden eye honing in on me. His face was covered by a bronze, fox mask. My breathing turned ragged at the sight of metal bars surrounding me like I was in some sort of cage.
Tamlin stood beside Lucien, his face covered by a golden mask with specks of green. This was a dream of course, but it was still unnerving to see two people I had failed to find. The other faces that watched me from outside the cage all had different variations of masks on their faces as well. Standing directly next to a woman with red hair was Rhysand, a cruel smile on his face.
Dark jagged rocks lined the walls and ceiling, and dim candlelights scattered across the room. We were Under the Mountain. But this time, it wasn’t Feyre playing Amarantha’s twisted games.
Amarantha rose a single finger, spinning it in a small circle in the air. I turned around, and my heart stopped. Behind a glass wall were two small figures in their separate confinements, the ceiling of the cage covered in metal spikes that could kill them in an instant.
“Welcome to the Second Trials,” Amarantha cackled. A light lit up in both cages, and my knees buckled at the sight, crashing into the harsh ground. Nyx pounded a small fist against the glass walls, his chest rising and falling in quick succession. His wrists were bound by handcuffs, probably imbued with Faebane. I turned around to find Rhysand without an ounce of recognition at the boy screaming in the cage.
In the other cage was a small hand-woven basket, a plaque with the initial R embedded on it. Small tufts of black peeked out from underneath the covers, rustling in the tight space. Hot, wet tears trailed down my face at who I knew to be in that basket. Oh, and who is this? Elain’s voice whispered behind me. Frantically, I looked around to see who it came from, but no one was close enough to whisper that without getting caught.
A harsh laugh sounded behind me. “You must choose which one to save. If you pull the lever on the left, your son survives and your daughter dies. But if you pull the one on the right, your daughter survives.” The corner of her red lips tugged upward. “Or you could let them both die,” Amarantha cooed.
“Love,” I blurted out. “The answer to your riddle is love.” If this was just like Feyre’s trials, then answering her stupid riddle should stop the whole thing. Silence followed after as Amarantha slowly blinked at me. Panic wracked its way through my body, my hands shaking despite them being clenched.
Pity filled the eyes of my silent spectators, but Amarantha’s shrieks of laughter cut through the silence. “What riddle?”
I jumped at the sound of metal whirring behind me. The spiked ceilings of their cages began to move, slowly descending on both children.
Nyx’s fists beat uselessly against the glass. My daughter’s hand flailed, tiny and helpless. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I desperately wished I could see my baby’s young face. I wanted to tear through the glass and metal cages—but the levers stood still.
Wait. I didn’t want to see her. Not when Elain was using this as a way to gather information off of me. I forced myself to walk up to the podium that had two levers on it. My hands grabbed at each lever, trying to pull both down at the same time, but it didn’t budge. I tested out pulling one lever about an inch and was met with no resistance. They must have engineered it to have only one go down at a time.
The spikes were about halfway down the cage. Nyx sat on the ground beneath him, wings tucked in tight around him. Tears stained his young face, his lip quivering in fear. A festering hatred brewed in my chest at the sight before me. It didn’t matter that it was all in my head. This would be the last time Elain hurt him.
I pulled Lucien’s sword from its holster on my back. The crowd gasped in response. It wasn’t strong enough to break metal, but it could cut through something else. I turned my back to Nyx and my daughter, glaring down at the woman on the seat a few feet in front of me. A part of me died as a child’s blood-curdling scream bounced off the cavern walls. I only heard it for a second before I raised the hilt of the sword, and used every ounce of strength I had to push it towards my stomach.
The tip of the sword pushed past the skin barrier over my abdomen.
“Enough,” Elain commanded softly. She was breathing hard, but her voice stayed cold, unwavering.
Pure darkness surrounded me, and I was faced with Bryaxis and Elain’s presence once more in the cold depths of the library. My heart pounded at my chest, whether it was from Nyx’s screams that now haunted me or from the sharp sting of the sword nicking my stomach, I didn’t know. Luckily it didn’t go too far.
Even in the dark, I could feel her smugness hitting me from my spot. “It’s fascinating how you react to them. Especially for the other child.”
My body acted on instinct, walking the two steps to Elain and squarely punching her in the throat. She recoiled, her hand clutching at her neck, as she choked for air. I didn’t care about the consequences of punching her. I didn’t care that specks of blood seeped into the leather clothing. All I cared about was killing the person in front of me, and I didn’t dare think about what the consequences of that may be.
I raised Lucien’s sword, gritting my teeth as my wound pulled at itself. It was ironic how her mate’s sword would be the one to end her. There wouldn’t be a threat to Nyx’s life if she were dead. I wouldn’t have to keep killing in the Night Court, and I would have one less nuisance to deal with.
She was distracted, currently hunched over on the ground, and I swung the blade of the sword down.
“Stop,” she coughed. My body stilled. I tried to force my body to fight past her command, but every strain on my body caused more pain to wrack through my body. She stood on shaky legs, walking over to me. Her eyes were hidden by the cloud of darkness surrounding us. She managed to choke out, “Clean this.”
It hissed. “ I am not a- ”
“Do it,” she repeated, anger lacing her groggy voice. “And you-” A gurgling sound escaped her lips, followed by the woosh of heavy breathing.
“I’ll find out who R is,” she rasped, her gaze locking onto mine. “And when I do, Aaliyah, you’ll wish this was just a nightmare.”
The emblem forced me to move up the spiral. But despite the distance from her, it didn’t stop the pounding of my heart in my chest. A worrying thought told me that she was going to find out about my children. It was just a matter of when.
When I arrived back to my room, Nyx lay in the large poster bed with wide eyes. Relief flooded through me at the young boy’s unharmed state, even though I knew the screams I had heard were all just a dream. His wings draped behind him as a small finger traced the orange beads on the bracelet Hera gave me years ago. He must have dug it out of the bag I left under the bed.
He lifted his head at the sight of me, slowly sliding off the bed before placing a small hand on my stomach. At a glance, no one could tell there was blood on the clothes, but his sharp nose was always able to make out the smell of blood. A warm sensation flooded my abdomen, and the pain from the cut disappeared.
“Thanks,” I murmured. He nodded silently, following me as I headed to the bathroom. He stopped right outside the door, sitting down on the ground as I silently closed the door on him. Quickly, I went through my normal routine of getting the blood off my clothes and taking a shower to rid myself of tonight’s crimes.
As soon as I opened the door, Nyx rose from his spot, taking my hand in his as we walked through the large room to the bed. He climbed in first, settling himself under the covers before sliding the bracelet onto his wrist. I followed after him, taking up my usual spot on his right. He snuggled in next to me, gently grabbing onto one of my box braids and simply holding it by the hand with the bracelet.
“I threw up,” he whispered. I jolted, but he quickly added, “It wasn’t a bad throw-up though. It was a good one.”
My hand raised to push strands of hair out of his face. The first few months after Lydia’s death were filled with “bad” throw-ups. “What happened, my little dream?”
He snuggled in closer at the nickname. “Uncle Cassian and I had a bet to see who could eat more ice cream.” A small sigh escaped my lips. I was thankful that he hadn’t decided to tear something up again. He added, a bit dejectedly, “He won, of course.” I chuckled, but it was short-lived. A tear escaped his eye, falling onto the sheets below him. “I want to go back.”
He brought his other hand up to fiddle with the bracelet on his wrist. A small, red light emitted from a single bead, pointing in my direction. His voice cracked as he said, “I want to go home.”
My heart cracked, a hollow ache filling me. I wanted nothing more than to ease the ache in his heart. To held him close and call him my son so he wouldn’t have to worry about the people he was reluctant to call family, and for good reason. To provide him security from this cruel world of his.
My ears strained to hear the words he mumbled. Before I could ask, tears quickly flowed down the side of his face, his hand now clutching at my shirt.
I was weak and defenseless against the young boy. My eyes prickled with unshed tears as I pulled him closer.
“I’m so sorry,” was all I could say as a hot, wet liquid dripped from my face.