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Rhysand snorts, his hand cupping my cheek. “Come on, Feyre darling. We just have to do what we need to do. You of all people should know.”
My eye twitches, and I let out a humorless laugh. “I’m gonna give you the chance to take that back. You have no idea what you have to do to survive. I don’t give a shit if Amarantha threatened you. You take that back.”
Rhysand rolls his eyes. “Don’t be naive Feyre. I’ve lived for over five hundred years. What do you know? You humans are so fragile and short sighted.”
I don’t know what happens next. It’s all a blur, but the next thing I know, my hands are balled into fists, and warm, wet liquid is decorating my fingers.
I can hear Mor’s screams, distant, like we’re in a windy forest. “Shut up!” I scream, my fist digging into Rhysand’s now swelling cheek. “You don’t know anything. Shut up! What have you ever done for me? At least Tamlin has the decency to try to fix my father’s life.”
His mauve colored eyes are shrinked, and his hands tightly wrapped around the hand I have wrapped around his neck. His nose is broken, golden blood shimmering against his dark olive skin. I can see my tears trickling down onto Rhysand’s face before I feel them on my cheek, and I continue screaming until I can feel strong hands grab at my shoulders.
“Stop this!” yells Cassian, his arms wrapping around my chest and he pulls me away from Rhysand’s fallen form. “Get a hold of yourself Feyre!”
“No!” I scream, thrashing uselessly against Cassian. I can feel my wrists being grabbed by another, and through my tears, I can see Azriel, his usually stone cold face twisted into disgust. “He deserves this! I’ll kill him! I’ll strangle that useless man!”
Cassian snorts. “Wrong language sweetheart. Now, be thankful,” he growls, his fingers digging into my chest. “Be thankful that I’m not snapping your neck. That faer may have a soft spot for you, but I don’t mind breaking your bones.”
I let out a strained laugh, gasping slightly at his deep grasp. “Really? You’re lecturing me now?” I swing my head back, hearing a satisfying crack of his nose also being broken. He doesn’t let me go, but I can feel his grip loosen. Unfortunately, I can also feel Azriel’s grip tighten, and he pulls me away from Cassian.
I let out an inhuman scream, and I can feel my body shift at my desire to escape these fae. I can feel my nails shifting into claws, and my back tearing with my fabric as huge wings stick out. Mor lets out a shriek, and I can feel both their grips loosen.
I yank my body out of their grasp, and as I look around, I can see shadows cutting through the room, and I look at my arm, cut up with the same shadows. “Mor,” I say, my voice eerily calm and monstrous. “Get me out of here, or I’ll kill you.”
Mor glances nervously at Rhysand’s direction, and nods, her shaky hand grabbing my upper arm and winnows me back to the entrance of the Spring Court. I jerk my arm away, giving the blonde woman a cold glare.
“I’ll take it from here,” I say hoarsely, and she nods gratefully, disappearing back into the shadows. Blinking, I let out a strangled sob, cradling my head in my hands, the pain of my new wings now making itself known. How am I supposed to explain this to Tamlin if I can’t make these disappear by the time I get home?