A Court of Dreams and Nightmares

Chapter 5

Rhysand

Her smell lingered on me as I stepped into my bedroom – our bedroom I reminded myself, even if we had only spent one precious night in that room together. I immediately winnowed near the house of winds, letting my wings spread as I soared towards the balcony. I just needed a couple of seconds alone, with my thoughts.

The soft, alluring light of the coming morning slowly filled the horizon, so in contrast with the roiling emotions I tried to keep under wrap. My people needed me. My court depended on my strength and clarity, when everything around us seemed to be crumbling.

Feyre. Her sacrifice was like a living flame in my body. My beautiful, strong mate. My high lady. It was a constant struggle not to unleash myself on the spring court. To let the darkness flow free with me at its tip, to bring her back.
I steadied myself, letting the centuries of keeping myself in check set in. She was all right. She wanted this. Wanted to be the one to bring down that court and the high lord who had foolishly tried to cage her in. A brutal smile curled on my lips. Feyre deserved her revenge. I just had to control my male instincts, because she had every bit as much right to fight for our people as I did.

"You saw her." Mor rushed to meet me, looking haggard and drained – as she had looked since our return from Hybern.

"I did." I strode into the house, pouring myself a glass of wine.

"Well..." Mor tapped her foot angrily as she tried to read my face.
"She is..." Pure, undiluted panic blasted through the bond, interrupting me. The world seemed to slow as I watched the glass of wine fall from my hand, pivoting towards the floor. The contents splayed out, looking like small droplets of blood. My worry and fear shot down the bond, while I gathered shadows around me, preparing to move – fast.

"What?" Mor cut in, shooting glances first at the door, then at me, comprehension dawning on her face.

A new sensation was sent my way. A soothing caress, and then – nothing. I threw my mind against hers, but only felt that wall of adamant that she so expertly controlled.

Frustration hit me like a physical blow. There was nothing I could do. No way of knowing what had happened, what happened right this moment.

"Feyre, she... I don't know what's going on." I removed the spilled wine with a wave of my hand.

"Is she okay, Rhys?" Mor clipped at me, struggling with her own power, still not sure whether she would need it to help her high Lady, I realised.

"Yes, I think so. I felt panic. Pure panic, but then a wave of calm and now... Nothing. She has shut me out."

"But she is okay?" Mor's eyes pierced me,

"She is not hurt, I know that at least." The steadiness of my voice seemed to convince her that there was no immediate threat and her power dwindled away.

I poured myself a new glass of wine, and took a seat, forcing myself to be calm.

"You did see her?" Mor poured herself a class of wine and slumped into a comfy chair, looking intently at me. "Yes, and she is well." I could still feel her fingers trailing my skin, her breath on my neck, her tongue in my mouth. Those long, perfectly shaped legs, wrapped around me, as she demanded more...

"Rhys, focus!" Mor snapped, her voice strained. I pushed thoughts of our night together away, alongside my worry for her.

The beat of mighty wings caught my ear and a moment later, Azriel stalked into the room, his face stone hard, shadows visibly clinging to his skin. He gave us a nod as a way of greeting, before leaning against the wall, obviously determined to brood, as he had done since returning from Hybern. Not that I blamed him.