ACOMAF (Rhys's POV)

The Darkness Begins To Stare Back (Chapter 46- 47)

We sat painfully close at dinner, to the point that no more than a needle would have separated our legs. After the afternoon in the forest, physical separation felt almost unbearable. Even walking back to the house after we'd landed out in the mud, we'd stayed close wondering if one of us might have the nerve to take the other's hand.

But Cassian cut through me with a glance when we walked through the front door, motioning to Mor from across the kitchen. She sat the table picking at some knot in the wood grain. Wordlessly, I nodded at Cass.

Feyre was covered in a good bit of mud and snow, but she sank down across from Mor rather than the fire while I helped Cass finish up the stew he'd been working on. She shivered at the first sip.

"This soup is piping hot and the fire is delicious, but I think every bone in my body might shatter from how freezing this place is," Feyre said, lapping up another bite.

Cassian nodded and poked around his own dish, but his eyes were quietly trained on Mor. "They pick these locations just to ensure the strongest among us survive."

"Horrible people," Mor said. She'd barely eaten anything. "I don't blame Az for never wanting to come here."

Cassian and I exchanged another look. "I take it training the girls went well." Cassian's answering drink of ale was answer enough.

"I got one of them to confess they hadn't received a lesson in ten days. They'd all been too busy with 'chores,' apparently." He shook his head, a scowl plastered all over him.

"No born fighters in this lot?"

"Three, actually," and Mor looked a little brighter. "Three out of ten isn't bad at all. The others, I'd be happy if they just learned to defend themselves. But those three... They've got the instinct - the claws. It's their stupid families that want them clipped and breeding."

Like Mor. Like her own family had wanted her. The family she'd visit tomorrow.

She stared for far too long at the bowl in front of her, pushing the spoon around and forcing down bites, that Feyre stood suddenly and took her dish to the sink. Cassian set his own spoon down and turned in his chair, clear that no one else but Mor sat in the room.

I stood, right as Cassian asked quietly, "When do you head for the Hewn City tomorrow?" Mor's nose pinched.

"After breakfast. Before." Her head shook softly. "I don't know. Maybe in the afternoon, when they're all waking up."

Cassian moved under the table, likely taking her hand, and when Mor looked up, understanding passed between them. And I wondered if it was Cassian - Cassian who had been the one to really break her free from her shackles - that remained the only reason she had stomached coming here with us. The only reason she felt safe and loved enough to do it.

Feyre and I shuffled for the stairs, not bothering with 'goodnights' so as not to risk interrupting. I couldn't bear to when Mor finally had something other than dread on her face.

For her own part, Feyre was distraction enough. From the table to the sink to the stairs, our bodies stayed close circling one another and daring to touch, but not quite closing the gap. There was fire there as my eyes trailed over her back climbing those stairs.

Fire. Today this woman had lit the world on fire for me. I wanted to light it back.

By the time we'd made it to the upstairs landing, and only two doors remained, a warmth from Feyre's fire had made it to my core and settled nicely. Feyre stared between the two doors looking like she'd rather not choose. I pointed at the second nearest her.