Chapter Thirty-Three

309 4 0
                                    

Velaria

Velaria cut off the bond between her and Azriel, disappointed to end their conversation so soon, but more pressing problems had arrived. Cassian was standing three feet away from her, Rhysand at the Illyrian warrior's side.

Tears immediately sprung to Velaria's eyes at the sight of her brother, alive and well, but practically dried up at the hateful gleam of Tamlin's spell in his eyes.

"A messenger arrived from the Autumn Court around twenty minutes ago, High Lord," Cassian said in a tone more professional than she had ever heard him use, its very lack of emotion sending a chill down her spine.

Rhysand snorted, turning away from Cassian and walking to the little silver stand with liquor on it. He poured himself some whiskey into a crystal glass before replying, "What does the bastard Eris want now? He already refuses to help aid in my search for our...fugitives."

Velaria's heart almost stopped beating. She had been toying with her ability of invisibility during the centuries of her work with Koschei, but the simple fact that neither Rhysand nor Cassian knew she was there proved her practice successful.

Cassian rolled his eyes, sitting in an armchair. He tented his fingers, propping his elbows on the armrests. "He has captured one of them, actually. He wants to know what to do with her."

Rhysand took a long sip of whiskey before sitting down across from Cassian. "Which one did he catch?"

Velaria waited with bated breath for his answer.

"Morrigan, High Lord." Cassian's eyes were focused on Rhysand. "He says she was there, looking for Nesta Archeron."

Shit. If Eris had Mor...Velaria was less worried about the possibility of Mor talking and more so about what Eris would do to her under Tamlin's spell.

"Did he catch anyone else, or just my cousin?" Rhysand asked lazily, as if he were talking about anything but captured so-called fugitives he had been searching for.

Cassian shook his head. "Eris said she was with the Illyrian female, but she got away."

"Not for long," a voice drawled from behind Velaria.

Velaria quickly sidestepped and turned around, using her power to mask the sound. A priestess was standing there, unbound black hair falling in shadowy waves around her shoulders. A dark indigo hood was pulled to just below her eyes, casting them completely in shadow.

The priestess walked into the room like a predator hunting for prey, each step seductive and lethal. The purple stone resting above her brow glinted in the lantern light.

She stopped, pulling back her hood. Her eyes were that of gleaming amber. "We will make sure that the Illyrian does not get away again."

"Ciara. How nice of you to join us," Cassian purred.

Rhysand ignored Cassian, raising an eyebrow. "What were you saying about Emerie, Ciara?"

"Only that she cannot possibly get too far, High Lord," Ciara said, her voice like poisoned honey.

Rhysand's gaze flicked to Ciara briefly, the boredom in his eyes clear. "Do you bring any news of my sister, priestess?" he asked, seemingly tired with whatever games the priestess was playing.

Velaria paused, shoving the sadness welling up in her down, down, down where it couldn't emerge again. Rhysand...

"No one has seen her," Ciara said, gritting her teeth. "She will emerge again, and we will return her to Tamlin."

Velaria almost snorted at the sentence. She was not Tamlin's toy to be returned to him once he was ready for her, and she certainly wouldn't go without a fight.

A Court of Dreams and PromiseWhere stories live. Discover now