broken like me

Chapter 3

(she remembers the feeling.)

She steps up to them slowly.

"I—before I say anything else, I need you to know that you're safe," she begins, voice soft. "You are free of him, and we—I will keep him away from you with everything I have. I know what it is to be in his clutches—differently, but—as much as you won't believe it for a while yet, I promise you are safe." Her voice shakes as she says this, and though she doesn't know it, this is what makes them willing to trust her, if for a moment—willing to believe in the hope she offers. "You can come home with us and shower and—then we can contact family and get you home, or if you'd like to stay, you're more than welcome to live with my family as long as you'd like."

Six months ago, she wouldn't have believed she'd ever have family—would ever be secure enough to invite others to this home she hadn't thought to consider her own. Now, she knows—knows Rhys and Mor would be pissed if she didn'tfeel she had the right to extend the invitation now.

She leads them back to where the cars are waiting—it'll be a little squished on the way back, but they'll definitely all fit, and a dark part of her laughs bitterly at the realization that there'll be more space without Rhys.

Lucien and his soul mate join them moments later, hands clasped so tightly their knuckles are white. "Feyre, this is Mia. Meez, this is—my best friend." His tone is more gentle than she's ever heard it, full of such affection—the tone Rhys used with me, she realizes with a jolt.

"It's so nice to finally meet you," Feyre greets, and Mia responds with a small smile. "Lucien, you two should go ahead with rest of the girls so they can get the hell away from here—they should get as far away as possible, as fast as they all can. I can wait for the others and take the other car."

Mia gives Lucien a questioning look, and he explains, "The others who helped to break you all out. I don't know how much you know about the corporate scene, but Feyre lives with the Night family—I've been staying with them since everything went to shit. They—people say a lot of things, but they're good people. The best people. We'll be safe with them."

At this, Mia's lip trembles, her grip on Lucien slackening for reasons he doesn't understand.

"Mia, what's wrong?"

She can't speak, just presses a hand to her lips. After a moment, she steels herself and opens her mouth. "The—they're the ones who helped you to—to come for us? Rhys and—and Mor, and the rest?"

Feyre flinches at his name, but exchanges a glance with Lucien at the familiarity in Mia's voice before he replies, voice worried but careful. "Yes—is that not okay?"

Before she can respond, soft footsteps approach as Az jogs up to them, looking to Feyre first. "Are you okay? The place is clear, the others should be here momentarily to rendezvous."

The easy way he speaks, the relief in his eyes—he doesn't know. They didn't see Rhys being taken, they don't know he was shot, might already be dead—

Mia gasps, and Feyre wouldn't pay much attention, except—

Except.

Except that Az's head snaps to the sound, and then Az—Az who is unflinching, incapable of being surprised, able to face anything—staggers backward. Staggers.

All of the blood drains from his face. "This is impossible."

"You—you know Mia, Az?" Feyre asks gently.

And Az practically shudders, because for her to say that—it's real. She's real.

"Artemisia?" The word comes out in a choked whisper.