𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 (Book 2)

Twenty-Five

I found Rhys watching me when I turned back around to face him.

    "Where are we?" I questioned, my voice barely above a whisper of confusion.

    He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his lips tilting upwards, "Welcome to my home," he stated.

    My eyes were stuck beyond him, looking through the small window next to the door, watching the streets as people walked and children played as they laughed.

    Children playing in the streets. Even in the Mortal Lands, I'd never seen that. It struck a chord in me.

    "What is this place?"

    Rhys leaned a shoulder against the broad threshold that lead to the sitting room and crossed his arms, "This is my house. Well, I have two homes in the city. One is for more...official business. But this is only for me and my family."

    I glanced down the halls, looking for any servants or people I didn't know. "Nuala and Cerridwen are here," he inferred, "But other than that it'll be just the two of us."

    My interactions with the wraiths had been limited, but I'd learned their names. We'd conversed a few times and they seemed nice enough.

    Rhysand opened his mouth, but then the silhouettes of two powerful male bodies appeared on the other side of the front doors fogged glass. One of them knocked—more like assaulted the door with his fist.

"Hurry up, you lazy ass," The voice spoke, dripping with humor. I sketched a brow, looking at the High Lord even as my eyes began to droop with exhaustion.

    Rhysand didn't so much as blink towards the door and the manor of which the person was speaking, "Two things, Danika Darling."

    The pounding continued, followed by the low voice of the male's companion, "If you're going to pick a fight with him, do it after breakfast." The voice was like shadows given form. It sent a cold chill down my spine and yet it felt almost familiar.

    "I wasn't the one who hauled me out of bed just now to fly down here," the first male retorted before adding, "Busybody,"

    A small smile tugged at Rhys's lips, "One, no one—no one—but Mor and I are able to winnow directly inside this house. It is warded, shielded, and then warded some more. Only those who I wish—and you wish–may enter. You are safe here; and safe anywhere in this city, for that matter. Velaris's walls are well protected and have not been breached for five thousand years. No one with ill intent enters this city unless I allow it. So go where you wish, do what you wish, and see who you wish." His eyes were alight with newfound joy. It made him look younger. Less burdened. "I will have Mor bring your sister here tonight so long as she swears to never speak a word of this place to anyone. Those two in the antechamber," he added, his eyes sparkling, "might not be on the list of people you should bother knowing if they keep banging on the door like children."

    A small twinge of comfort hit me then. It would be nice to have something familiar face here and somehow the light feeling of this place was...welcome.

    Another pound hit the door along with the first male's voice, "You know we can hear you, prick."

    "Secondly," he continued again, "in regard to the two bastards at my door, it's up to you whether you want to meet them now, or head upstairs like a wise person, take a nap since you're still looking a little peaky, and then change into city appropriate clothing while I beat the hell out of one of them fro talking to his High Lord like that."

    Rhysand's eyes held such light, so at odds with the icy rage, I'd seen earlier. The look suited him.

    The males seemed...nice. But also energetic. I was tired. So Cauldron-damned tired, I didn't think I could do it then. Maybe later, but I just needed a minute to breathe.

    My life had been uprooted in the last few hours and I didn't think I was ready for any more surprises. "Just...wake me up later," I said as I began walking to the stairs my legs still slightly aching. So much so that I knew the wretched stairs would make my life difficult.

A female voice clanged from the doorway—crisp and edged, "You Illyrians are worse than cats yowling to be let in the back door."

    Illyrians. The males were Illyrians. Mother above I had so many questions.

    The doorknob jangled and the female voice sighed sharply, "Really, Rhysand? You locked us out?"

    Rhysand opened the door when I'd made it up the stairs—a small courtesy I could have kissed him for.

    I heard the male voice declare, "Welcome home, bastard," followed by the shadowed voice, "I sensed you were back. Mor filled me in, but I—"

    The strange female voice cut him off. "Send your dogs out in the yard to play, Rhysand. You and I have matters to discuss." I liked her already.

    The cocky one drawled to her, "We were here first. Wait your turn, Tiny Ancient One."

    I entered the first room I could find that looked vacant. I didn't bother to change as I walked over to the large bed and pulled back the blankets.

    Quietly slipping into its warmth.

    It didn't take me long to fall into oblivion.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N: Guys I got bored and drew an absolutely rubbish drawing of Danika. That's it. I just wanted to say that.