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Summary
She thought of her wedding, she thought of her guests. She thought of how everyone would talk about the Lord of Night descending into paradise, and stealing the wife of Spring.
“Smile, Feyre,” the Lord of Night now encouraged as he pressed her against him. “Today is your day.”
And then he plucked her from the garden, and took her home.
What if Rhysand is exactly who everyone thinks he is?
