YOUNG GOD | RHYSAND [ON HOLD]

1.12 | THE BARGAIN

"Rhysand." Aadya silently growled his name in warning. The High Lord of the Night Court just gave her an innocent smile as he turned back to Feyre.

"I'll make a trade with you," he casually and dropped her arm without warning. "I'll heal your harm for her. But you still have to pay for it, I'm not letting Aadya carry the weight for you, again. So you, Feyre, for two weeks every month, two weeks of my choosing, you'll live with me at the Night Court. Starting after this messy three-trails buisness."

Feyre's eyes flew open. "No." She had already made one fool's bargain.

"No?" He braced his hands on his knees and leaned back casually. "Really?"

"Get out." Feyre breathed.

Aadya having enough of the human girl's stubbornness pushed of the wall to crouch in front of her.

"You'd turn down this offer-- and for what?" When Feyre reply, Aadya went on. "Are you holding out of someone from the Spring Court --for Lucien, correct? After all, he healed you before, didn't he? Oh don't look so innocent. The Attor and his cronies broke your nose, I was there remember? I sent Lucien here to heal you, not Tamlin." Aadya confessed, as she stood, pacing a bit. "The way I see things, Feyre, you have two options. The first, and the smartest, would be to accept Rhysand's offer."

Rhysand continued where Aadya left of, pulling her by the wrist to stop her from pacing. "The second option-- and the one only a fool would take-- would be for you to refuse my offer and place your life, thus Tamlin's, in the hands of chance."

Aadya pulled herself away from Rhysand's hold as she again crouched before Feyre.

"Let's say we walk out of here. Perhaps Lucien will come to your aid within five minutes of our leaving. Perhaps he'll come in five days. Perhaps he won't come at all. Because he's been keeping a low profile after his outburst at your trail to protect you. Amarantha's not exactly pleased with him. I had to beg Amarantha for him to be spared. She listened-- but only after she made me bestow Lucien's punishment. Twenty lashes." Aadya revealed to Feyre.

Rhysand shrugged, a easy gesture. But the anger at Amarantha for making Aadya punish her friend was not missed by Feyre. "So it's really a question of how much you are willing to trust Lucien-- and how much you're willing to risk for it. Already you are wondering if that fever of yours is the first sign of infection. Perhaps there unconnected, perhaps not. Maybe it's fine. Maybe that worm's mud isn't full of festering filth. And maybe Amarantha will send a healer, and by the time, you will either be dead, or they'll find your arms so infected that you will be lucky to keep anything above the elbow."

"You're dying, Feyre." Rhysand's voice turned slow as he kept glancing bat Aadya, as if he was waiting for her outburst. "How much are you willing to risk on the hope that anyone other than Aadya will ever come and help you?"

Feyre stared at him before she bared her teeth. "Go. To. Hell."

Swift as lightning, Aadya lashed out, grabbing the shard of bone in Feyre's arm and twisting it. A scream shattered out of Feyre, as she thrashed and withered, but Aadya kept her grip, twisting the bone, till Feyre couldn't bare anymore.

"I am done with your stubbornness, Feyre." Aadya hissed out in Feyre's face. "Listen to me very carefully, You are going to accept the offer, or else," Aadya let go of her arm, and stood up face masked with a calm fury. "I will go to your human vilage, myself, and slaughter everyone in there until I find your sisters. I will torture them so horribly, that they will wish for death." When Feyre stared at her with a terrified face, Aadya gave her a cold smirk, "maybe I will start with your younger sister."