Cassian was the only Illyrian in the entire camp who dragged my sorry ass inside, my muscles having given out in their feeble attempt to push out of the mud as soon as Feyre disappeared. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as Cassian somehow got me inside and dumped me on the floor. The brief vision that met me wasn’t pretty.

He closed the door and looked at me as I shuffled to adjust. My bones and muscles felt like they were breaking one by one, screaming with so much residual pain.

Cassian bent over, and hissed. “What the fuck happened out there?” I barked out a cry when he bent up one side of my wings, inspecting the wounds that had looked grey-green in the mirror beneath the dried blood. “Rhys-”

“Don’t make me say it.”

He let go and squared me up. “What the fuck happened?”

“If you need me to say ‘please,’ I will.”

“Rhysand,” and it was my brother holding my shoulders tight, concern lacing his eyes. My wing was sore where he’d held it, but... I was glad someone had.

“The fucking Suriel told her we were mates - that’s what happened, Cassian,” I spat out. “Right after a band of Hybern’s swine shot me out of the sky because I was too preoccupied with the idea of fucking Feyre in the middle of the forest to notice they were there.”

“Shit.”

“Yes shit,” I shouted - practically screamed. An endless torrent of pent up male aggression pounding out of me. Cassian did not back so much as an inch away, almost expecting it.  “Fucking shit, shit, and more shit - all of it and-”

Movement shifted behind us, the door opening. Morrigan appeared and ran right to me, not expecting the rough fistful of her blouse that I snatched. Blood roared in my ears.

“ You .”

“Rhys,” she said and took a steadying breath.

“You know where she is.” I tugged on the fabric, holding back enough not to hurt. I wouldn’t be that male. Not to her. “ Where did you take her?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

My fingers tightened. My soul tightened. “Yes you-”

Cassian’s hand shot out to my wrist - just in case. With mate bonds, all bets were off. But Mor’s soft fingers brushed him away and he relented. “She is safe, cousin,” she said, just... holding my hand. “She is fine. A little shook up and confused, but she is fine and before you can ever so much as think it,” she added, when my lips snapped opened again, “your mate does not hate you.”

My chest rose and fell in huge waves. It was like being shot out of the sky all over again. “She... she doesn’t?”

“No.” Mor shook her head. “I think, quite the contrary in fact.” And then, she gave me that smile - small and sweet and reassuring. My hand slackened, releasing her blouse. She didn’t seem to care save for the wrinkles left behind.

“I’m not telling you where she is. Even Cassian will admit you’re smart enough to figure it out for yourself.” My brother snorted. “She just needs some time. And you...” Mor ran her fingers over my brow, pushing back the hair and biting her lip. Her face was a hard line taking in the rest of me. “You need a bath. And a healer.”

“Don’t bother - with the healer.” They both looked ready to protest. “Feyre’s blood already healed me. It seems the High Lord of Dawn gifted her more than just the sun. All that’s left to do is wait it out.” And pray it stopped hurting like hell for more than a few seconds.

Mor sat back shaking her head. “You’ve got a lot of talking to do.”

“Well let’s do it in the bath, shall we,” Cassian said, hauling himself under my shoulders once more. Mor took the other side. “You smell like shit and I don’t care what Mor says. Feyre’s never gonna fuck you like this - mate or not.”

I didn’t have time to retort before Mor had winnowed us into the upstairs bathroom, cackling in my ear as we landed.

---

Cassian and Mor weren’t wrong. I looked miserable.

After they’d cleaned me up and made sure I had enough strength to withstand a few minutes alone, they exited to my shared room with Cassian so I could relieve myself and just take a moment. The image reflected back at me in the mirror was me, but it wasn’t at the same time.

With the mud and blood vanished, I could see the damage that had been hiding underneath, and it was enough that I stopped thinking about Feyre for more than a few minutes at last. Her blood had done a lot in that short space of time to clean me up, but my skin was peppered with bruises and fresh new scars littered my wings in horrible sea-sick green and yellow blotches that disrupted the patchwork of red and gold in the veining. And my skin was sallow looking, the bags atop my cheeks full and puffy. Inside, my body screamed.

I bent over and rolled the cuffs of my pants up to my knees. The slits where the ash arrows had struck my calves were sealed now, but four new scars throbbing crimson marked the occasion. I hadn’t wanted to look when Cass had poured over them helping me clean up in the tub, Mor applying a salve carefully to my wings.

First Lucien, which was really Tamlin. And then Hybern. The Attor had informed us of Hybern’s movements in Illyrian territory from months ago. Was it coincidence they’d found us and sought to take advantage? Or was it planned? Where Tamlin had failed, had Hybern somehow... stepped in? I buried the thought.

A light knock sounded on the bathroom door. “Rhys?” Cassian pushed the door open just as I stood up, and the motion of standing upright again must have changed the pressure in my head because suddenly, the room started spinning and I wasn’t sure if I was seeing one version of Cassian or three.

I just heard my brother curse and the sound of Mor’s feet running behind him before he caught me and I blacked out.

---

 

Five days. That’s how long it took before I was fit again. Before any residual swelling had disappeared, I could think coherently, and the bruises existed only in memory.

The downside, of course, being that as my body’s pain went down, my heart’s increased exponentially.

Mor wouldn’t leave my room for practically anything. It took Azriel’s visit the day after I’d winnowed into camp to get her back downstairs, and even then she came back with Az in tow. Cassian explained it all to me in detail one afternoon after she’d stepped out for the toilet. Apparently, I’d been asleep for all of it.

Azriel only stayed long enough to check in before the shadows sent him chasing back to the mortal lands. Whether it was an excuse to ditch out of a miserable home he hated or because Nesta and Elain had gained word from the queens, I didn’t care.

The only thing I did seem to care about besides hunting Hybern down like a pig and slaughtering him from one end to the next, was Feyre. Finding her, holding her, making sure she was okay. I’d been so addled in our escape, I hadn’t even been able to see if any of those arrows had hurt her, and it didn’t matter how many times Mor assured me they hadn’t; I wanted to see it for myself.

But Mor was silent as the grave about where she’d taken Feyre when she wasn’t otherwise chewing my ear off with admonitions or making me drink this or that. Cassian laughed from the other side of the room the entire way through it, only leaving to check in with the Illyrian females and make sure Devlon was letting them train.

Mate.

My mate.

I had a mate. And she was... out there. Somewhere. Waiting for me or hoping I never came.

Mor disappeared on the third night and didn’t come back until the following morning around lunch. She pushed Cass aside and plopped on the bed next to me where I lay on my stomach, Cassian checking my wings and muscle strength, and threw her head back on her hands. I tried to push up. “Don’t even, she’s fine,” Mor said. My head hit the pillow with a groan. But I still caught the twinkling in her eyes.

“What?”

“You’ll see,” and that was all she said before falling into a little cat nap. Cassian shrugged.

And part of me, however spitefully resentful for my own self, was glad that Mor was there, was the one helping Feyre. That Feyre had a friend in her life to count on to keep her secrets and tell her when I was being a stupid ass that wasn’t worth my mate’s time. Not that she had told Feyre those things... but I enjoyed thinking that the relationship was pleasant enough between them now for Mor to feel inclined to stay a night with her. That Feyre might invite her to.

Mate.

My mate. And my cousin.

Family .

All of us. I closed my eyes at night and went to bed thinking about it. Only the pain kept me from thinking too long as it descended into a dull ache and then almost nothing, my body healing itself with Feyre’s help. When my parents and sister had died, all within the span of two days, I had felt empty and proceeded to spend more time alive without them than with. I was hollow.

On the fourth night when I could feel myself just about fully healed, I turned my head over on the pillow and looked at my cousin sleeping soundly next to me, the left side of my wing stretched out over her. Healing.

And there was Cassian across the room on his own bed snoring lightly. And Azriel, even if the pain of his personal history had been too much to keep him here for long, had still come and seen me, made sure I was okay. The Illyrians I’d slaughtered for. The woman I’d helped save to fashion into a queen.

And now Feyre.

This was my family, I thought. The Court of Dreams. Where blood had failed, they had held true. All of them for centuries and episodes of my life that had felt hopeless. My eyes grew heavy again as moonlight streamed over us through the open window. A light breeze carried in and kissed my wings, and finally, they didn’t resist the call. The muscles tightened, pain not even a question, back archly slightly at the will to fly again.

Forcing myself to back down, I relaxed into the sheets. Mor shuddered and her hand twitched. I took it savoring the knowledge that we shared blood together beneath our connected palms. Blood that had saved us.

Family .

Had saved Feyre.

Mate.

I went back to sleep with my body healed and my mind made up.

It was time.

---

Mor found me the following morning in a fit of distress as I ransacked my drawers for the right tunic. She carried a breakfast tray loaded with what smelled like something delicious Cassian was undoubtedly behind downstairs, Morrigan herself unable to cook so much as an onion.

She stopped on the threshold, took in my disheveled state and frowned. “You can’t leave yet,” she whined.

“I’m not in the mood, Morrigan,” I replied, going back and forth between a black tunic and a brown one. I heard the clinking of metal as Mor set the tray down behind me on a stand.

“But you haven’t said it yet.” I kept silence and picked a piece of lint off the cuff of the black set. Mor’s voice deepened in a false imitation of me. “Y ou’re right, Mor. I can’t leave yet! Not when I haven’t told you how right you were about everything. ” I turned around and saw her tick off a list on her fingers. “ Feyre not hating me. Keeping secrets from her. I should have listened to you and Amren all alo- ”

“Okay - shit,” I cut her off and she leaned back on the wall, pursing her lips to keep from laughing. I couldn’t help the twitch of my own lips. “You’ve made your point.” She held a hand to her ear and tapped her foot. I sighed. “Fine. You were right.”

“About what, cousin dearest?”

“About everything.” I turned back around to my dresser. “I should have just told her.” Maybe then I could have spent an entire week mating with her instead of a handful of hours. After the incident with Hybern’s men, I didn’t care if Devlon’s camp was safer. We were going back to Velaris as soon as Feyre and I sorted ourselves out, in whatever way that might be.

Mor appeared at my side peering down at the tunics and leaned her chin on what she could reach of my arm. “Don’t tell me you’re fretting about what to wear .”

I cleared my throat. “Don’t start-”

“Rhys,” and she gave me an incredulous look, thrusting a folded paper against my chest and stepping off. “I’m pretty sure clothes are going to be the least of your worries shortly.”

“Why do I feel like I should be having this conversation with Cassian instead, hmm?” She snorted.

The paper she’d given me was crinkled, clearly having been opened and read already. But I recognized the cut seal on it immediately and promptly forgot about my tunics.

“They wrote back?”

“Az sent it this morning.” Her face was grim. “They expect us in four days.”

“Four days.” Cauldron. That wasn’t much time. And Feyre was still - “Feyre.”

“I know,” Mor said, coming over to me and unfurling her arms. “Rhys, I know.”

“But I have to - I have to...” The words came out breathless, my body feeling unhinged now that the truth had been so laid bare. “Mor, I have to find her.”

I took a seat on the bed, suddenly feeling the need to sit, and Mor plopped down next to me, taking my hand with a sympathetic little smile on her face. “No,” she said. “That’s not what you mean.” She inclined her head, eyes searching me to spit the truth out. My throat went raw, but still - I said it.

“I have to mate her.” Mor nodded and the truth was so startling clear. I would do... whatever Feyre wanted. But it would break me if I found her out there, in a cabin I’d been wondering at the last five days as I healed, and she sent me off. “I can’t - I can’t do this without her.” Mor’s grip on my hands tightened, encouraging, as my voice cracked. Right there with me every step of the way. Tears threatened to spill down my face. Somehow, just saying the word out loud made everything much more intense, overwhelming. “She’s my mate, Mor. She’s my mate, my mate.” I said it over and over again until she shushed me, the same thing I’d repeated when she caught me my first night back.

And then, my cousin smiled. It was not the petrified, stunned silence that gaped at me in reception when I’d flown from Under the Mountain and spotted her waiting for the first time in fifty years. It wasn’t the tears or the comforting embrace that brought me inside for jasmine tea until I’d told her almost everything crippling me inside.

This Mor was happy. This Mor was bright and beautiful and proud. No more anguish, only... a new family waiting for her. And me.

“Then go get her, you stupid prick,” she whispered, eyes sparkling like the sun. I wished I could have told her the same, knowing what other persons lingered about next door to her room at the House in the night, separated from her by mere walls and shadows.

But quietly, my lips twitched, turning upward, and I knew she was right. Mor had been right about everything.

I wolfed down breakfast and left at once.