Amaryllis POV -
The lunch table was... awkward to say the least. Lucien seemed equal parts sad and angry, glaring at his plate as if it had done him wrong. I was tense, internally begging, pleading that he wouldn't say anything about what he had witnessed the night before.
Rhysand...
If only for that moment, I had been content. My mate's skin was pressed against mine, his delicate lavender eyes glowing under the stars. My High Lord, wreathed in the darkness he wore so well. But it couldn't hide everything. I had seen the bruised circles that marred his cheeks, evidence of many sleepless nights. The unnatural paleness of his skin, no trace of his once caramel complexion after years of darkness. And I could see it in his eyes, haunting pools of amethyst that screamed for help, for safety, to be free of the madwoman who was destroying him. In that moment, I would have given anything to take him away, far away from that mountain.
I missed him... I missed our friends, Every moment of every day. I missed Cassian's boisterous presence, wild like flame and just as bright. I missed Azriel's cool comfort, an ever-present shield from the shadows, his soft chuckles. I missed Amren... I longed to feel her comforting embrace again. Somehow, the smaller creature had become my safe haven. I wanted to sit at the family table, and eat and laugh and simply bask in my friends presence.
I hadn't seen them in so long.
The crash of the living room doors drew me out of my musing. Feyre strode into the room, full of an energy I hadn't seen in her before. Her hair was drawn back, piled on her head. She did not, however, head to her usual seat opposite Tamlin, instead she pulled out the chair beside mine.
"Good afternoon." She chirped, a saccharine smile on her face as she slid into her seat. Idly the men murmured their greetings. With an odd vigour, Feyre began to pile food upon her plate, seeming incredibly smug as she began to eat.
"You look ... refreshed." Lucien observed, glancing at Tamlin. Feyre simply shrugged.
"Did you sleep well?" I asked, sipping at my water. Feyre turned towards me, exposing the side of her throat, marred by a deep bruise with, (were those teeth marks?), in the centre. I gasped, accidentally drowning myself. Feyre just grinned harder at my spluttering, "Like a babe." She smirked.
Lucien's eyes were like marbles, "What is that bruise?" He demanded.
Feyre pointed a finger at Tamlin, who lounged at the end of the table, looking incredibly unbothered at the scene taking place. "Ask him, he did it." She glared at my twin, who couldn't have looked less guilty if he tried. Lucien's head snapped between the two.
"Why does she have a bruise on her neck from you?" He snarled, face a mask of fury.
"I bit her," Tamlin said, hardly pausing as he continued to slice his steak. "We ran into each other after the Rite concluded." Feyre seemed to swell with anger as she straightened in her chair, brimming with indignance. "She seems to have a death wish," he continued, placing pieces of meat in his mouth. I could see the slight swell of his claws peeking from his knuckles. I could hardly suppress a shudder at my brothers suppressed anger. We had mended fences and he had apologized and shown how sorry he was for what happened. But I would always know what happened when my brother let his temper slip from that tight leash. "So if Feyre can't be bothered to listen to orders, then I can't be held accountable for the consequences."
I felt like I was watching a play, the oddness of the scene before me was just... The human was mad at a fae, yelling at a fae. What was happening?
Feyre slammed her hands on the table, the silverware rattling. "Accountable?!" She sputtered, hardly able to get the words out in her anger. "You cornered me in the hall like a wolf with a rabbit."
