Olethros

fifty five - freyja

Two weeks. I'd been in the Spring Court for two weeks, and each day felt like a century. It had taken nearly three days for my wings to heal, though I still could not lift them or spread them well. I could hardly move them.

Tamlin had found me in the garden. Emyr and Dafid left me, claiming they thought I'd died. As if they hadn't heard my screams. I was nude, caked in my own blood, passed out from the exhaustion and trauma. He'd carried me to his bedroom, wiped me down with wet cloths, but he did not return. He did not sleep beside me as he had before. I was alone, and truly grateful for it.

Not one person had visited me. I'd left this bed only to make use of the bathing chamber, though the fact I'd been in the corridor was terrifying enough to make me suffer with the pressure in my bladder. Tamlin had dressed me in a nightgown, which I still wore, by tearing the back neckline open to fit my wings. I didn't have the energy to hide them again.

I'd wasted away in the corner of his small bed, staring at the wrinkled sheets, the vine filled window, the dust coated desk. I wasn't sure I even breathed anymore. This morning, I'd woken sitting up against the chipped headboard, not even realizing I'd fallen asleep. I wouldn't have moved if not for the musky dampness between my thighs and spread on the sheets beneath me. Even in an empty room, shame filled me.

I was twenty-seven, yet I could not stop myself from wetting the bed? When had I even gone into the bathing chamber last? I couldn't remember. My skin was hot and cold with shame as I lifted myself to the edge of the bed. My muscles ached with lack of movement, my head pounding from lack of water.

A rush of dizziness spun my head and spotted my vision as I stood. My hand fell to the bed, gathering the wet fabric in a fist as I tried to steady myself. I should've stayed there. I should've sat in that bed until I decayed. These bastards deserved to clean the mess my body would leave. Then again, I knew they'd force their servants to peel me from the bed, and they did not deserve that.

My knees shook as I waddled to the end of the bed, already losing my breath. How long had it been since I'd eaten? Drank water? Gods, did I even sleep more than that one time? In my time here, I'd given too much to them. They'd taken plenty, but my refusal to eat or drink had only left me further in their mercy- or lack there of.

A rasped whimper left me as I leaned forward and gripped the bed with two hands. My knees threatened to give out, my arms trembling under the brace of my body. I felt a pressure, a horrid reminder of what I'd done. My body was too dehydrated to let a tear fall, but as another trickle of liquid began running down down my thighs, I felt like crying.

What horrible luck I had as a singular knock sounded on the door. My head had hardly lifted before it swung open, revealing a stiff Tamlin. He still bore bruises on his jaw and eye, though I suspected they were new. His nostrils flared and eyes fell to the now wet rug beneath me. Shame heated my cheeks as I lowered my eyes to the blanket I gripped.

"I'm sorry," I croaked. My voice did not sound like my own.

"I am here to tell you that your brother is returning for yet another visit. He will be here in a few hours," Tamlin spoke, voice tight. I felt like crying again. I didn't want Rhysand to see me like this. I didn't want him to know what they'd done to me or my wings.

"Okay," I whispered. I had no choice but to pretend.

"Do you need assistance?" Tamlin asked after a long beat of silence. I wanted to shake my head, I wanted to scream at him to leave, but I knew better. I'd find myself vulnerable in that corridor if he did not walk me. Slowly, I nodded my head.

I heard a hesitation in his step as he neared me. I knew what was coming, but still, the hand around my arm had me flinching. Tamlin sucked in a breath before helping me straighten. I kept my eyes on the floor as we slowly made our way to the bathing chamber. As he pushed the door open, I couldn't stop my mouth from opening.