𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 (Book 2)

Sixty-Seven

And yet part of me was angry. Angry that I'd given up so much for her, and she'd found it so easy to turn her back on me.

    "Where'd you go the other night?" Cassian asked, and I turned to him. "I didn't see you leave Rita's." he added.

    Rita's. Also known as pure chaos.

    They'd dragged me out two nights ago, along with Feyre. It was mayhem. Mor had nearly danced herself to death, Cass with her. Azriel and I had sat nursing our wines after Feyre left—and she had left quite quickly after seeing me sitting at the booth—simply talking about how insane Cassian and Mor were most of the time.

    Rhys had been holding court at the bar, and I was delighted to see what he was like, slightly tipsy. People watched Rhys throughout the night, males and females, all observing their dutiful high lord as he drank half his weight in faerie wine.

    Azriel and I ended up making a game out of it. Betting who'd work up the courage to go up to him and invite him into their beds.

    Unsurprisingly, Azriel won most rounds. But I took a large amount of joy in taking nearly 20 coins from the shadowsinger. I refuse to admit the amount of money I owe and will never give him...At least he was in a better mood toward the end of the night—even so much as smiling.

    Rhys didn't accept any offers that came his way. Much to my surprise granted how much of a tease he was most of the time. No matter how beautiful they were, how much they'd smiled and laughed. His refusals were polite yet firm.

    I wondered if he'd been with anyone since...I could barely finish the thought. What they'd done to him—what she'd done to him was horrible. It made me sick to think about it.

    He hadn't deserved it. Not in a million years.

    Amarantha had merited a death far worse than what she was given. No, what she was dealt was a mercy. A mercy she didn't deserve. Not in a million years.

    She should have suffered a death twice as long as the years she'd hurt Rhys. I would have been happy to deal with that to her.

    For him.

    No.

"I just went...out," Mor replied to Cassian after a moment. Another chaise similar to Amren had appeared, and both Feyre and Mor plopped onto it.

    "With whom?" Cassian pushed further.

    Mor leaned back into her chair, a small edge lighting in her eyes, "Last I was aware, I didn't take orders from you, Cassian. Or report to you. So where I was and who I was with is none of your damn concern."

    And that is how you put a male in his damn place.

    "You didn't tell Azriel either." The general added.

    Maybe Cassian hadn't spent all those years as a buffer for Mor...maybe, just maybe it was to keep the shadowsinger from getting hurt.

    The general finally noted that I was still standing in front of him. Quickly and very not-Cassian-ly got out of the ring and hung up his weapons on the many racks that held them.

I followed ensuite, grateful for the break. For a moment, just a moment, I wished Nesta was here. If only to see her and Cassian go head to head. I wasn't sure who'd walk away from that match.

"Why exactly," he spoke to the two other females, "are you two ladies here?"

"Rhys is coming in a few moments to give us some news, apparently. Didn't Amren tell you?" Mor replied, tipping her head back toward the sun.