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I eyed the plant she’d thrown on my chest. Chew on it? What the absolute hell?
As her eyes continued to flame, focusing her sudden rage on me, I hesitantly took the plant in my hand. Only Feyre could convince me to eat a damn flower without an explanation.
A part of me felt that she must be screwing with me, getting revenge for whatever she was so mad at me about. Cassian would certainly approve. But a larger part of me hoped that she cared enough for me by now that she wouldn’t waste whatever time I had left by tricking me into eating a flower.
I fought a grimace as I took the plant into my mouth, chewing delicately. She had been pissed at me before. Hell, I’d crashed her wedding and she had been livid. But now…she was angry with me in a way I’d never felt before. It was a more sincere anger. At her wedding, she had been angry because she was scared, because something had gone so wrong–more than the dress I knew she’d hated, more than the red rose petals I had seen her eyes fixating on–that she had been terrified to walk up and commit herself to Tamlin.
Now, it wasn’t fear that was driving this anger. It was something that I couldn't pin down well enough to name.
She marched forward the last few steps before dropping to a kneel by my head and shoving her sleeve up rather aggressively. I opened my mouth to protest as she drew a dagger, slicing across the soft flesh on her forearm, but was cut off by her glare. “Drink this. Now.”
I couldn’t find the strength to do anything but look at her in disbelief. Drink her blood?
Apparently I wasn’t reacting or moving fast enough for her. She reach forward, her face still furious, and put a hand roughly to the back of my head, lifting it to the weeping slice she’d carved into her arm. I went to jerk away at the first iron tang of her blood on my tongue, but she held me still with ease.
Then I tasted magic. It was subtle, nearly hidden by the metallic taste of the blood it was infused in. Without meaning to, I’d opened my mouth to the blood, my instincts recognizing that it would help me better than any medicine or antidote. I swallowed three mouthfuls before she abruptly jerked her arm away, allowing my head to fall back against the fabric she’d carefully placed under my head earlier, back when she wasn’t looking at me like I was an enemy.
I could feel the magic in my system, but I couldn’t make sense of it, nor how she knew that she was capable of healing like that. I could feel it working, feel the unbearable aching and burning from the poison fading. It still left plenty of pain in its wake, but I could begin to think a bit more clearly now.
But Feyre was still looking at me like…like she had Under the Mountain. That rage and…betrayal. It hurt me more than any poisoned arrows ever could. “You don’t get to ask questions,” she said coldly. “You only get to answer them. And nothing more.”
I blinked in surprise. She hadn’t had this kind of fire in her voice or eyes since before Amarantha. She hadn’t had this kind of determination, this bravery to stand up to a High Lord as I assumed she must have with Tamlin when she first came to Prythian. It was lovely to see something so true to her on her face. It was just a shame that it came at a cost that I had yet to decipher.
I nodded hesitantly as she looked at me expectantly. Her eyes flicked pointedly to the weed I still held in my hand, and I took another bite, chewing thoroughly as she leaned back a bit.
“How long have you known that I’m your mate?”
Everything suddenly made sense. Her anger, the betrayal I saw hiding behind her fury. And the way she was looking at me as though I was a different person than the one she’d left in the cave.
“Feyre,” I breathed. I didn’t know what I intended to say next, how I intended to make her understand, but she didn’t give me the chance to figure it out as she repeated her question, the same anger there, but now more demanding.
What a fucking time for her to find this out. She must have felt the bond, must have felt it when she was out looking for help. But that was impossible. I would have felt it, and I would have seen it in her eyes when she returned.
No. She’d found out somehow. But only Mor and Amren knew for sure, and they wouldn’t say anything. They weren’t even here to say anything. There was only one creature in these mountains that would know this.
“You…you ensnared the Suriel?” Her eyes flickered in something like annoyance and I nearly winced when I realized that I’d accidentally brushed over her question again.
“I said you don’t get to ask questions,” she repeated, her small hands fisted at her sides.
She was so, so angry. How could I possibly fix this when she had every cauldron damned right to be furious with me? I had lied about this and hidden it for months. I knew, knew that I should have listened to Amren and Mor, that I should have told her. Maybe not the first few weeks, not when she was so destroyed that she may not have even believed me. But now, now that we were on better terms, that she was coming around…I had no excuses to give her. All I had to offer was the truth, and I prayed to every old god I could think of that she forgave me for the deception I’d pulled for so long.
I chewed on the plant again, trying to buy time to clear my head further. I had to be careful. If I said too much at once, too abruptly…I was afraid that I would hurt her further. I was afraid that I may say the wrong thing and make her think that it was something about her that had made me avoid telling her the truth.
“I suspected for a while,” I finally said, hoping my words were stronger than they sounded to my ears. The plant and whatever magic she had in her blood was helping, but not fast enough to give me a clear enough mind for this conversation.
“I knew for certain when Amarantha was killing you. And when we stood on the balcony Under the Mountain–right after we were freed, I felt it snap into place between us.” I saw her lean back an inch more, as though shocked. “I think when you were made, it…it heightened the smell of the bond. I looked at you then and the strength of it hit me like a blow.”
I paused, losing track of my thoughts. How was I supposed to explain why I had just disappeared after realizing that she was my mate?
Her eyes closed for a moment, her body still, as though frozen by my words. “When were you going to tell me?”
Her voice was quieter now, more hoarse. But she was still angry. I could see it in the careful way she held herself, as though she was afraid that her anger would take control of her if she wasn’t careful. But she was hurt now, more than before. And I knew that, whatever she was thinking, it wasn’t pleasant. “Feyre,” I said weakly, my tone pleading.
“When were you going to tell me?” My response spilled out at her insistence. Pretty words and tip-toeing around her feelings weren’t going to get me anywhere. I had been careful before, and she was still hurting because of what I’d done.
“I don’t know. I wanted to yesterday. Or whenever you’d noticed that it wasn’t just a bargain between us.” I didn’t mention that I had thought it would have happened sooner. Six months and my mate still didn’t know who I was to her. “I hoped you might realize when I took you to bed, and–”
Thankfully, when she cut me off, it wasn’t because I had just accidentally said that I hadn’t even intended to tell her before sleeping with her. She either ignored it or didn’t process it. Or she was too angry to even care. Instead, she said, “Do the others know?”
“Amren and Mor do,” I admitted. I thought of the suggestive looks Cassian had been giving me for months, whenever I was near Feyre. “Azriel and Cassian suspect.”
I saw her cheeks heat with rage or embarrassment. Either was possible. There was this huge, cauldron-damned secret that involved her directly and everyone around her except for her knew about it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
And here was the part I’d dreaded. Because I knew, no matter what I said, my explanation was too late. “You were in love with him; you were going to marry him. And then you…you were enduring everything and it didn’t feel right to tell you.”
She took a deep breath, and I took the moment to steady myself, to prepare for whatever she asked next. “I deserved to know,” she said, her voice cold again. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to keep myself from speaking exactly what I thought. This wasn’t about what I felt. This was about her, because I was the one who’d hurt her. But still…
“The other night you told me you wanted a distraction, you wanted fun. Not a mating bond.” And I would have told her that night. I would have told her what she meant to me. But that wasn’t what she’d wanted. And now…I couldn’t help but think that what I’d hidden may have been exactly what she wanted, even if she had said differently. “And not to someone like me–a mess,” I continued, trying not to sound as pitiful as I felt.
“You promised,” she said, her voice lowering to a whisper, her pain showing through. It felt like a knife slicing straight through my wings, shredding everything before moving on to my heart. “You promised no secrets, no games. You promised.” She sounded close to tears, and if it would have helped, I’d of done anything to stop her from crying, would drive an ash stake directly into my chest if it would make her stop sounding like that. After everything she’d been through, the last thing I wanted was to cause her more pain.
“I know I did,” I said, trying to make her understand. I didn’t want to hurt her. I had never wanted to hurt her. She had to understand that I had hurt myself as much as I’d hurt her by lying about this. ”You think I didn’t want to tell you? You think I liked hearing that you wanted me only for amusement and release? You think it didn’t drive me out of my mind so completely that those bastards shot me out of the sky because I was too busy wondering if I should just tell you, or wait–or maybe take whatever pieces that you offered me and be happy with it?” I saw her lips part at my words, an unreadable emotion in her eyes. “Or that maybe I should let you go so you don’t have a lifetime of assassins and High Lords hunting you down for being with me?”
Her lips pressed together as her anger returned, strong as ever. “I don’t want to hear this,” she said. I frowned at her. Hear what? The truth? Then what the fuck did she want? “I don’t want to hear you explain how you assumed that you knew best, that I couldn’t handle it–”
“I didn’t do that–”
“I don’t want to hear you tell me that you decided I was to be kept in the dark while all your friends knew, while you all decided what was right for me–” No, no, no.
I understood then. She was hurt, betrayed, embarrassed. But mostly, she was looking at me the way she’d looked at Lucien when he had said that Tamlin hadn’t meant to treat her badly. This wasn’t just about that fact that I’d hidden this from her. It was that I’d hidden anything from her. I’d made the decision for her, taken her choice in the matter away and done what I thought best for her, without her say involved. I had done to her exactly what Tamlin had done. I’d tried to protect her by hiding things and choosing for her. And such a monumental thing…I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t fill my lungs properly.
“Feyre–”
“Take me back to the Illyrian camp. Now.”
No, no, no. Please, no. I couldn’t be losing her. I couldn’t.
There was no questioning the tone she’d adopted. It was hard, demanding, cruel. And she had every right to use it. She had every right to hate me. Because now I understood that it wasn’t just my betrayal pressing on her. It was everyone’s. Everyone in her life had hurt her, had shoved her down and lied to her. Even her sisters had never done a single thing to help her when she was fighting for their lives. I had promised myself long ago that I wouldn’t be one of those people. I would never become one of the names on a long list of people that betrayed her. But I had. I had lied and hurt her. And I deserved for her to shut me out, to give up on me. But I still couldn’t bear it, even if I deserved it. “Please,” I gasped, the word a prayer to her, to the Mother, to every falling star I’d ever seen, to the fate that had brought Feyre and I together in such a cruel way.
But nobody answered. She snatched my hand, but it wasn’t because she wanted to be near me, wanted to feel her skin against mine. It was because she wanted to get away from me. “Take me back now.”
And when I met her eyes again, I saw the pain that she didn’t let herself show. I saw her realization that she had let herself feel again, only to be hurt. It was everything she had feared after she’d fled from Tamlin. I had helped her heal, just as I wanted to. With my friends and my city, she had pieced her shattered, absent heart back together. And now, I had all but smashed it on the ground.
So I didn’t try to fix things any more. I didn’t try to form words that I hoped would make her understand. I didn’t deserve for her to understand. I deserved to feel every bit of agony burning through my heart and lungs. I deserved the cruel burning, because I had caused it in her.
So I gathered the little strength I’d gained back from her blood and the plant she had given me, and I focused it all on winnowing us to the camp. I kept my mind on the cabin we were staying in. Focused so hard, with so much strength, that I didn’t realize that we were falling short of the destination until my back hit the icy mud in front of the cabin. My magic had only been able to get us so far before it’d given out. I felt Feyre’s hand slip from my grasp, felt her moving away.
“Feyre,” I moaned, desperately trying to lift myself from the mud, to follow her, although I didn’t know where she was going. I could barely even focus on anything but her warmth leaving me. I barely recognized Cassian at my side, barely understood that he was there. My mind was only on Feyre as I said her name to Cassian, trying to get him to understand.
She needed to be safe. She was so angry and hurt, and I didn’t know what she would do in a state like this. My friend just put a hand to my shoulder to make me stop trying to rise. “Easy, Rhys,” he said sharply. “She’s fine. She’s with Mor. You need to breathe. And you need to calm down.”
I barely realized that I was still fighting him as he tried to keep me from exhausting myself. “A little help?” I heard him hiss.
Another male was by my side then, and I just barely had the focus to recognize Azriel before they were lifting me to my feet and half-carrying me into the cabin. “Where is she?” I mumbled. I could feel her distance. I could feel that she wasn’t here, and it hurt.
“She’s with Mor,” Az said, his voice calm and slow. “She’s safe. It’s alright. She’ll be alright, Rhys. Whatever happened, she’s alright. And she’ll forgive you.”
Of course Azriel would understand more than any of us had said. I allowed my head to drop as my friends supported me, bringing me into the cabin and resting me back against a softer surface. There was a blanket over me in moments, and I remembered that my torso was bare, my skin coated with icy mud. I shivered.
“She wouldn’t talk to me,” I said weakly. “She kept asking questions, and I couldn’t lie to her, but it hurt her…”
My mind was clear enough now that I saw the look Cassian shot Azriel, who knelt by my side, examining a slice long my shoulder. “That’s not important right now–”
I cut him off with a snarl. Cassian reared back in surprise. “Bullshit. She’s the most important thing. I need to know that she’s alright. I hurt her.”
Cassian’s eyes widened. “You what? What did you do?” It took me a moment to understand that he thought I had physically done something to her.
Azriel looked at him sharply. “Not like that, Cassian,” he said calmly. ”Rhys, did you tell her about the mating bond?”
I frowned, shaking my head. “Never told you,” I muttered. Az shrugged. “Well, you weren’t exactly subtle. You sent her for you mother’s ring, Rhys.” His voice was low and understanding. “What happened?”
Cassian looked at him in disbelief. “Do you really think now is the time?” he snapped.
My spymaster frowned at him. “He’s healing. There’s nothing to be done.” He glanced at me. “I can smell the poison on you, but you’re healing.”
“Feyre,” I breathed. “She trapped the Suriel. It told her how to heal me. It told her we were mates.”
Azriel simply nodded. Cassian looked triumphant for a second, then winced. “Oh shit, Rhys,” he groaned. “You knew and didn’t tell her, and now she’s pissed.” He shook his head, finally understanding.
“Cassian,” Azriel said, his voice sharper than it often got.
I closed my eyes and pressed my lips together for a moment before speaking. “She’s more than mad. I can handle mad. But I hurt her.” I looked at Azriel desperately, trying to make him understand how badly I’d fucked up. I reached out to grasp his forearm, desperately trying to explain, to keep anyone from putting Feyre at fault. “She was finally becoming happy again, and I hurt her.”
“You bet your ass you did,” Mor snapped, winnowing into the room at the tail end of my words. I looked at her hopefully, straining to sit up, praying that I would see Feyre by her side. But she was alone. “I told you, you damned fool. I told you to tell her, and you didn’t listen, and now look at what you’ve done. Even Amren told you that she needed to know. She’s pissed, Rhys. Gods, I said your name and she flinched.”
“Mor,” Az said quietly. “I don’t think now is the time.”
I shook my head, looking at More pleadingly. “Please, Mor. Please tell me where she is.”
She looked at me silently for a moment, her eyes burning. “No.” I winced. “She needs space right now. You’re going to give it to her.” Her voice left no room for argument, and I nearly bared my teeth at her before remembering that she had been right before, and she was most likely right now.
So I just dropped my head back against the pillow someone had placed under my head, staring at the ceiling in defeat. Mor huffed. “She’ll forgive you, you dumb bastard. She doesn’t hate you. She’s just upset right now. Gods, she was already looking guilty by the time I left. She won’t be angry forever. Just give her time.“
“Please,” I said, my voice weak. “Just…talk to her for me. Please.”
I heard Mor sigh as she came closer, standing at my head and pressing a cool hand to my burning forehead, coated with sweat and mud. “You know I would do that without you even asking, Rhys. Don’t be stupid. This will all work out. She’s your mate for a reason. She’s probably the only one in Prythian willing to put up with your shit.”
Her words pulled a raspy chuckle from me. “I love her,” I said. “I can’t–I can’t lose her.”
Azriel took a careful seat by my side, resting a hand on my shoulder. “It’ll be alright. I’ve seen how she looks at you and I’ve heard how she talks about you. She may not realize it, but I think she loves you too. She’ll forgive you.”
Cassian piped up from where he had perched on the opposite armrest from Mor, by my feet. “Yeah, but hopefully she gives you a bit of hell first. I almost miss her screwing with you.” He looked wistful for a moment. “Damn, Mor told me she threw a shoe at you after her wedding.”
I chuckled roughly. “Well, she wasn’t exactly pleased with me.”
Mor grinned. “You couldn’t even dodge it, Rhys. That was amazing.”
I grinned then. “She’s strong and fast. I was used to her as a human, slower and weaker. I should’ve expected some kind of retaliation, but I didn’t even have time to sense it before it hit me.”
Cassian roared with laughter. “Mother, that girl is perfect for you, Rhys.”
I huffed a bit in amusement. “I know.” I looked to Mor, who sighed.
“Rhys, I’ll tell you where she is when I think she’s ready to see you, alright? You don’t want to piss her off and make it worse by showing up too soon when she’s taking some time to herself. You know her, she has to think this through. She needs to feel like she’s got some control back.”
I nodded, sighing a bit. “Alright,” I conceded. “But please tell me you have her somewhere safe.”
She nodded. “She’s safe. She’s alone so she can think away from outside influences.” She looked pointedly at me. “She has everything she needs. I’m going to check on her tomorrow too. I promised her three days, but I’m just going to pop in and make sure she’s alright.”
I dipped my head. “Thank you for listening to her,” I finally said. She raised a brow. “You obeyed her over me, because you knew what she needed. So thank you for putting her first.”
Mor’a face softened. “You know I’ll always do what’s best for her. She’s my friend as much as she’s your mate.” She brushed my sweat-soaked hair off of my forehead and I grimaced a bit.
In a few days, I could see Feyre again. I could wait, could give her this time, if it was what she needed. I loved her enough to give her that.
Hopefully, she would be ready to forgive me by the time I saw her. And, if she wasn’t, nothing would stop me from trying to earn her forgiveness. I would get down on my knees and beg if it was what she wanted. I would do anything for her.
And if what she wanted was for me to never speak to her again…it would be hard, but I could try. For her. I could give her up if it would make her happy. Even if it would break me entirely.
Whatever I had to do for this girl, this strong, fiery girl that I had fallen in love with, I would do. She had my heart in her hands and I would do anything to convince her to keep it.