Chapter 40: Thirty-Five

And the worst part was I knew him. It was the Night Court male I'd met on Calanmai, he'd thought he was saving me from those scum who dragged me into the woods. I did indeed threaten him after that for costing me my hunt. Based on Lucy and Tamlin's reaction to him and his pretty face, I was starting to wonder if that was a teensy mistake.

Nevertheless, I let none of those thoughts show on my face and still wore a mask of boredom. It was surprisingly hard.

He approached the dining table, his eyes still on Tamlin. He had yet to notice me. I realized it was because Tamlin was concealing my scent, not my body, just my scent. It made it harder for predators. Tamlin also mentioned something once about me having a unique scent, it could be both.

The male was exactly how I remembered him. It's hard to forget a face like that. He was the pinnacle of grace and power, yet he still held an edge that promised death if you crossed him.

"High Lord," The male crooned, inclining his head slightly. I noticed with a large amount of smugness that it was an insult. It wasn't a bow.

Tamlin remained seated as did I. I didn't move much not wanting to draw attention to myself. I prefer to observe and assess before I throw myself into things.

"What do you want, Rhysand?" Tamlin said with a promise of violence.

Rhysand. The name sent shivers through me for some reason. It seemed... right. What the fuck was it about this guy that made me act like this? I was freaking myself out.

Rhysand smiled–heartbreaking in its beauty– he placed a hand over his chest in mock hurt, "Rhysand? Come now, Tamlin. I don't see you for forty-nine years and you call me Rhysand. Only my prisoners and my enemies call me that."

I scoffed, "I'm sure that the list goes on. You seem to be unlikeable."

Rhysand's eyes snapped to mine faster than lightning, if I thought Tamlin was fast earlier this man was faster. His violet eyes met mine and his face seemed to pale considerably, though he quickly masked it with a sinister smile, "You. I remember you,"

"I'd be insulted if you forgot,"

Rhysand hummed, "It's quite hard to forget someone who threatened to kill you and called you–ah— what was it?" He smirked, "yes, a moronic, incessant fool."

"Well, if the shoe fits..." I trailed off. His violet eyes shone with near malicious intent. Rhysand winked at me before turning to Lucien. Something inside me fluttered at that.

"A fox mask. Appropriate for you Lucien."

"Go to hell, Rhys." Lucien spat back.

Well, at least there is one green flag; Lucien hates him.

"Always a pleasure dealing with the rabble," Rhysand said before facing Tamlin once again, "I hope I wasn't interrupting." His eyes met mine for a brief second, he was referring to me.

"We were in the middle of lunch," Tamlin said.

"Stimulating." Rhysand purred. The sound reverberated across my skin. What the hell was wrong with me? I'm never like this.

"What are you doing here, Rhys?" Tamlin demanded a bit of his unyielding temper. I'd been the source of that temper a few times. Trust me you wouldn't want to be.

"I wanted to check in on you. I wanted to see how you were faring. If you got my little present."

Ah, so he's the one who left the head on the doorstep. It was a bit cliche for my tastes, but creative nonetheless.

"Your present was unnecessary."

"But entertaining," I added with a raise of my hand.

Rhys smirked, "Violent,"

"Always."

Rhysand turned back to Tamlin, "But it was a nice reminder of the fun days, wasn't it?" he clicked his tongue as he surveyed the room, "Almost half a century hold up in this country estate." That sounds absolutely dreadful, how had Tamlin done it? "I don't know how you managed it. But," His eyes went back to Tamlin again as he finished looking at the room, "You're such a stubborn bastard this must have seemed like paradise compared to under the mountain."

Under the Mountain. That was new. Maybe I'd get something out of Rhysand being here after all.

"I suppose it is," Rhysand continued, "I'm surprised, though: forty-nine years, and no attempts to save yourself or your lands. Even now that things are getting interesting again."

Yes, yes, this man was proving to be quite useful. What was under the mountain? How would Tamlin save his lands? What was getting interesting again? So many questions and barely any answers.

Tamlin conceded, "There's nothing to be done."

Rhysand approached Tamlin, each movement smooth as the finest silk. His voice dropped to a whisper– an erotic caress of sound that made me shiver once again– Cauldron boil me, what was this male doing to me? Yes, he was very attractive. But I didn't know him.

"What a pity you must endure the brunt of it, Tamlin– and an even greater pity you're so resigned to your fate. You might be stubborn, but this is pathetic. How different the High Lord is from the brutal war band leader a century ago." Of course, he was a war band leader. They were all arrogant bastards who thought too highly of themselves. That explained so much.

Lucien interrupted, "What do you know about anything? You're just Amarantha's whore."

Amarantha. Could she be the mysterious woman everyone keeps talking about? The woman I'd skin alive? I sure hoped so.

"Her whore I might be, but not without my reasons." His voice grew an edge, "At least I haven't bided my time among the hedges and flowers while the world has gone to hell."

Ouch. That must have hurt Tamlin.

This guy is growing on me a bit.

Lucien brought his sword up slightly "if you think that's all I've been doing, you'll soon learn otherwise."

"Little Lucien." Rhysand asked, "You certainly gave them something to talk about when you came to Spring. Such a sad thing, to see your lovely mother in perpetual mourning over losing you."

Even I admit that was a low blow.

Lucien pointed his sword at Rhysand, "Watch your filthy mouth," That was Lucien's first mistake, he let his anger overrule his common sense and made a rash decision.

Rhysand laughed–a lover's laugh low, and soft, "Is that any way to speak to a High Lord of Prythian?"

Now that was a surprise. A High Lord. That certainly explained the power and grace. Plus the male arrogance, yep everything added up. It was why those faeries had run off. To cross him would have been suicide. Now I'm truly intrigued. I always loved a good mystery.

"Come now, Tamlin," Rhysand said. "Shouldn't you reprimand your lackey for speaking to me like that?"

"I don't enforce rank in my court," Tamlin replied.

"Still?" Rhysand crossed his arms, "But it's so entertaining when they grovel. I suppose your father never bothered to show you."

"This isn't the night court," Lucien hissed, "And you have no power here– so clear out. Amarantha's bed is growing cold."

This was getting heated. I loved it. It was probably the most exciting thing to happen in like a month. Which is honestly quite pathetic now that I said it.

"Rhysand snickered, but then he was upon Lucien with the same speed I'd admired only moments ago. If I was that fast, my life would have been so much easier, color me jealous.

"I was slaughtering on the battlefield before you were even born," Rhysand snarled, but withdrew just as quick as he had come, "Besides," he continued stuffing his hands in his pockets, "Who do you think taught your beloved Tamlin the finer side of swords and females? You can truly believe he learned everything in his father's little war camps."

Now that was a red flag. If he was anything like Tamlin I'd want nothing to do with him. Not that I'm saying I want anything to do with him anyway. Why would anyone think that? I have no idea. What? Who? Huh?

What the actual fuck? Even my thoughts were messed up. This needed to stop, asap. I'd beg the Mother if I had to.

"Save it for another time, Rhys. You'll see me soon enough." Tamlin but in as he rubbed his temples.

"She's already preparing for yo-" Rhysand stopped as he studied the table.

Shit. I was in deep shit.

The three of us stiffened. The table was set for four, but there were only three of us here. I know he noticed it too by the furrowing of his brow.

"Where's your other guest?" Rhysand asked, lifting Feyre's gauntlet and sniffing it.

Tamlin lied coolly, "I sent them off when I sensed your arrival."

"Yet you didn't send off the other human as well?" Rhysands eyes were lit with disbelief and a flicker of excitement.

Rhysand whipped his head to Lucien. The tang of magic filled the room as Rhysand broke the glamour Lucien had placed on Feyre. Soon Feyre seemed to fade into view as the magic that hid her wore off. She looked terrified as Rhysand's face contorted with rage.

"You dare glamour me?" he growled as he stared at Feyre. I stood faster than I ever thought I could, ready to intervene if necessary. If I needed to I'd give my life to protect Feyre. Tamlin soon followed me as claws made their way from his fingers. The two of us were already in offensive positions should we need it. If there was one thing Tamlin and I could ever agree on, it was Feyre.

Rhysand's face became one of calm fury as he turned to Tamlin, "Who, pray tell, is your other guest?" Rhysand's head turned to me then, "And for that matter who are you?"

"My betrothed and her sister," Lucien blurted.

"Oh, here I was thinking you still mourned your commoner lover after all these centuries," He stalked towards Feyre.

"Don't take another step," I warned, I was acutely aware that I had probably just signed my death sentence.

Rhysand smirked at me, "So, feisty," He chuckled, "And which of you is Lucien's betrothed."

"My sister," I answered confidently.

Lucien spat at Rhysand's feet and shoved his sword between them. Well, at least I wouldn't die alone.

Rhysand's venom-coated smile grew, "You draw blood from me, Lucien, and you'll learn how quickly Amarantha's whore can make the entire Autumn Court bleed. Especially it's darling lady."

And he called me violent.

The color drained from Lucien's face but he stood strong, it was Tamlin who but in, "Put your sword down, Lucien."

Rhysand ran an eye over Feyre, "I knew you liked to stoop low with your lovers, Lucien, but I never thought you'd actually dabble with mortal trash." Feyre's face heated and Lucien trembled, with what I didn't know. "The lady of the Autumn Court will be grieved indeed when she hears of her eldest son. If I were you, I'd keep you knew pet well away from your father."

"Leave, Rhys," Tamlin commanded. He had yet to make a move of attack. To do so would be war, would he truly go to war over two measly little humans? I didn't know. What I did know was that if Rhysand laid a finger on Feyre, pretty or not, I'd kill him.

Rhysand brushed Lucien aside as if he were a curtain. I was going to kill him. Both of them.

Feyre held a knife up, but Rhysand pried the knife from her hands and sent it hurtling across the room.

"That won't do you any good anyway," Rhysand claimed, "If you were wise, you and your sister would be screaming and running from this place, from these people. It's a wonder you're still here actually." Feyre's face had contorted into confusion that I'm sure mirrored my own. Rhysand laughed loudly as he looked between me and my sister, "Oh, they don't know, do they?"

Rhysand's face turned to one of amusement as he looked at my sister as if she were a toy and I took another step towards them, "You touch her, and I'll peel the skin off your body."

Tamlin added, "You have seconds, Rhys. Seconds to get out."

Rhysand looked at the High Lord and me, " If I were either of you, I wouldn't speak to me like that."

I smiled sinisterly as I put my hands behind my back, sliding out daggers from each of my sleeves, "It's too bad you're not me." I cocked my head at the High Lord, "It must be tough to have to look up to people all the time while you are too busy mucking around in your own ego to realize when you've been outwitted." I shot out pushing Feyre behind me as one of my daggers rested on Rhysand's throat and the other pointed at his groin.

"Do you feel that?" I whispered in the High Lord's ear, "The sting? Like needles on your neck?" I snickered, "It would be a shame to have to live out the rest of your immortal life without one of your most precious body parts."

Rhysand's face was one of fury, but beneath that I saw the shock that was in his eyes, "I could kill you, mortal."

I pressed my daggers a little harder and Rhysand hissed as I tsked, "You're in no position to be making threats, High Lord." I dipped to the High Lord's ear once again, whispering so low that not even the other High Fae in the room could hear, "If you have a bone to pick, you do it with me. You leave my sister alone." All trace of amusement in my voice had dropped into oblivion, "I get it, you're a big shot High Lord, and for some odd reason, you want to prove you the top dog by being a sick asshole. But guess what?" My voice had gained back some of its usual amusement, "I don't give a flying fuck about your wounded pride.

"So here's what you're going to do," I whispered even lower now, "You do whatever sick and twisted idea I know you have to scare us humans, away. Or scare Tamlin enough to send us away.

"I may be in the dark here, but I'm not stupid, I know for some reason you don't want us here. Guess what? I don't want to be here. Now run along and be a good doggy."

It was a lie. It was refreshing to have a break from all the looming pressure of the Flame. I didn't necessarily like my housemates but I liked the fact I had at least some tiny scraps of freedom.

I falsely smiled and pulled my head away from his ear and removed my daggers. And as though he'd been waiting for it Rhys pounced pressing me against the wall as I laughed.

Claws broke through my mental shields. Well.

I fucked up.

My body straightened against my will, every muscle going taut.

I couldn't move. But this wasn't my first run-in with a daemati—nasty little things. I knew that with his amount of power my mind could feel like he was squeezing all the thoughts and will from me. Yet, all he did was make me silent and compliant? Maybe he'd followed what I said after all.

An invisible talon-tipped hand caressed my mental shields.

"Let her go," Tamlin ordered. Was he actually defending me?

"Enough," Lucien added.

"I forgot that human minds are as easy to shatter as eggshells," Rhysand said, running a finger along the base of my throat.

I took offense to that. I'd spent years working on my mental walls, even a mind talker from another fucking world couldn't get through my shields, and this magic, mystical HIgh Lord just waltzes through my shields. The fact he could shatter them wasn't surprising, I was human after all. But the fact that he did it like it wasn't even hard was what I was humbled by.

"Such a dark place; your mind. Not even scared. It wouldn't be quick, I promise."

I wanted to laugh. He thought he was so convincing, yet I was the one who had hidden my thoughts from him. I wished I was in control of my body so I could smile.

"Such depressing thoughts." Rhysand's brow furrowed, had he found the gaps he was seeing? The things I'd hidden? Oh, I hoped so.

"Let. Her. Go." Tamlin commanded.

"Pity," Rhysand almost pouted as the invisible grip on my mind suddenly pulled away and I dropped to the floor. I stood up shakily, I always hated that.

Rhysand turned to Tamlin, "Amarantha will enjoy breaking them." Rhysand observed, "Almost as much as she'll enjoy watching you as she shatters that one bit by bit." Rhysand pointed to Feyre.

Like hell.

Tamlin was frozen–his arms hanging limply at his sides as if he'd given up, "please," was all he said.

"Please, what?" Rhysand coaxed.

"Don't tell Amarantha about her," Tamlin begged.

Rhysand pointed at the ground and smiled viciously, "Beg, and I'll consider not telling Amarantha.

Tamlin dropped to his knees and dropped his head.

"Lower."

Tamlin pressed his forehead to the floor, his arms splayed out in front of him. Rhysand pointed at Lucien, "You too Fox-boy."

Lucien complied, lowering himself to his knees and pressing his brow to the floor.

"Are you doing this for your sake, or for theirs?" Rhysand spoke again, then shrugged, "you're far too desperate, Tamlin. It's off-putting. Becoming High Lord made you so boring."

Tamlin questioned with his head still to the floor, "Are you going to tell Amarantha?"

Rhysand smirked, "perhaps I'll tell her, perhaps I won't."

In a flash of motion, Tamlin was on his feet, fangs in Rhysand's face.

"None of that," Rhysand clicked his tongue and lightly shoved Tamlin away with a single hand, "Not with ladies present," His eyes shifted to me again and I narrowed my own, "What's your name, love?"

Did he honestly think I was that mindless? He seriously set the bar low for mortals.

Rhysand looked to my sister as well, "And you?"

Feyre answered first, "Clare Beddor." Rhysand's expecting eyes turned to me again.

I rolled my eyes walking over to the table and picking up my wine again taking a large swig, "Maya Beddor."

Rhysand turned back to Tamlin unfazed, "Well, this was entertaining. The most fun I've had in ages, actually. I'm looking forward to seeing you four Under the Mountain. I'll give Amarantha your regards."

And then he vanished.

And the four of us were forced to sit in silence as we realized how much our lives sucked.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N: This is really long, but its Rhys so it's ok. this is also unedited and I'm to lazy to go back and look at it.