𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔶-𝔱𝔴𝔬**

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When I awoke, I could tell I was in the Night Court before I even opened my eyes. My eyes blinked open as I sat up, glancing around.

I was on a couch, Feyre asleep beside me. Rhysand was in an armchair across from us, staring at the mountains.

He turned his head to us as Feyre stirred beside me, yawning as she awoke. She took a second to take in her surroundings before meeting his gaze.

There was no kindness in his eyes. Nothing but unending, icy rage. But he blinked, and it was gone.

"What happened?" Feyre asked, her voice hoarse.

"You were screaming," he explained. "You also managed to scare the shit out of every servant and sentry in Tamlin's manor when you wrapped yourself in darkness and they couldn't see you."

My brows furrowed, and I turned to Feyre. I hadn't even noticed that she'd done that.

"You didn't notice because you were panicking," Rhys informed me, as though he'd read my thoughts. "You let me in. You couldn't breathe, your vision had gone black. It was something that even I had never experienced before."

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. He quirked a brow.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he assured me.

My mother had always told me that it was proper for a lady to apologize for any inconvenience, even when it wasn't entirely her fault.

"I usually panic when he does that," I explained, bringing my knees to my chest. "It makes me feel like I'm trapped."

"He's done that to you before? More than once?" Feyre demanded from beside me. I glanced at her warily, but nodded. "Why didn't you tell me that he hit you?"

"He told me not to," I defended myself, hiding my face in my knees. Her hand rested on my shoulder.

"He hit you," Rhys repeated, not a question. "That's the terror I felt from you."

"It wasn't serious," I whispered, tears stinging my eyes. "He didn't mean it. He loves me."

"Do you believe your father loved you as well?" Rhys challenged, anger lacing his voice. "Do you believe he didn't truly mean it when he left those scars on you?"

"That's different," I snapped at him. "When we go back--"

"As your presence here isn't part of our monthly requirement, you are under no obligation to go back." He rubbed at his temple. "Unless you wish to."

"He locked us in that house," Feyre managed to say.

A shadow of mighty wings spread behind Rhys's chair. But his face was calm as he said, "I know. I felt both of you. Even with your shields up—for once."

"We have nowhere else to go," Feyre whispered. I glanced over at her.

"We could go back," I insisted. "He always feels awful after he locks me up. I'm sure he didn't mean it. He won't do it again."

"Do you truly believe that, Mary?" Feyre questioned me, her brows furrowed. I stared at her, feeling helpless.

"He's my brother," was all I could say. "He's the only family I have left."

"You're both free to stay here for however long you want," Rhys assured us. "Stay here forever, if you feel like it."

I didn't feel particularly comfortable living with him. Not after what he'd done to me. His face softened at the thought, and I immediately snapped my mental shields up.

𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚖(𝙰𝙲𝙾𝚃𝙰𝚁)Where stories live. Discover now