𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 (Book 2)

Hundred-Twenty

    Yes, I knew it was very, very important. But I also knew it was dreadfully, dreadfully boring.

    After that first dinner, when Cassian had broken out one of Rhys's very bottles of wine so we could celebrate my our mating in style, I'd realized they'd come to stay for company, to dine with me and Feyre, and...the Illyrians had taken it upon themselves to look after me.

    A gesture that was greatly appreciated, and warmed my cold, dead heart. But also unnecessary granted I was perfectly capable of looking after myself.

    Rhys said as much when I'd written him a letter that night and watched it vanish. He didn't mind if his enemies tracked him to the Court of Nightmares, that much was clear. And why should he? If anyone tracked him there...good riddance.

    I'd written to Rhys, How do I tell Cassian and Azriel that I don't need protecting? Company's fine, but I don't need bodyguards.

    He'd written back, you don't tell them. You set boundaries if they cross a line, but you are their friend—and my mate. They will protect you on instinct. If you kick their asses out of the house, they'll just sit on the roof.

    I'd rolled my eyes, You males are insufferable and they can sit on the roof. Scratch that. I'm going to buy them a dog house to put in the backyard. P.s. I'm going to buy a dog.

    He'd said, it's a good thing us insufferable males make up for it with our impressive wingspans. P.s. you're not buying a dog.

    The pen had scratch on the paper, echoing through the quiet room as I'd written back, still insufferable even if I miss you. P.s. I'm going to name the dog Rhysand.

    He'd replied, Of course, you do. P.s if you get a dog and name it Rhysand I'll throw it out a window.

    I'd hissed, jotting down, Prick. P.s. If you throw my dog out the window I'm going to throw you out the window. Then you and Rhysand can be matching just like your names.

Moments later the note had appeared again, You're a menace. We're not getting a dog.

Too bad. I'm getting one, and sticking you in the dog house with Cass and Az, I had replied.

He'd written back with a simple, Cruel. But a midnight laughter followed down the bond—our mating bond. And I couldn't help but smile.

I fell asleep thinking about Rhys, wishing he was there and hoping he'd finish up at the Court of Nightmares and return soon. Gods, I had become a lovesick fool. It was awful.

    The next afternoon, Rhys was still gone, Amren was buried in the Book and I was unable to annoy her, Azriel off on patrol of the city and nearby shoreline, and Cassian and I were—of all things—just finishing up an early afternoon performance of some ancient, revered Fae symphony I had dragged him to on the other side of the Sidra.

    I had wanted to go since I got home. Had wanted to finally go to the theater I had seen each and every time I walked down town. And I had finally gone, and by the Cauldron I had forgotten how much I loved it. The music, the show, every single facet of it.

Everything in my sung with joy at the sight. Even Cassian had sat in awe.

The music had been ancient, such rich history conveyed through such powerful notes. Written at a time, Cassian had told me, when humans had not even walked the earth.

    And when it had finished, Cassian had offered to fly me home—on offer I declined, instead opting to walk along the bustling streets.

    Walking back across the river, we remained in a comfortable silence—my eyes drinking in everything as though it were the sweetest wine. We'd dropped off more blood for Amren—and to get the hell out, to which I'd replied that she was a grumpy troll and she'd nearly torn my head from my body. It was fun. And Cassian and I headed toward the pet shop