𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 (Book 2)

Hundred-Twenty-Six

    There was a quick, suspenseful silence. The elder queens shaking their heads eagerly, smiles spreading across their faces with excitement.

    But one of them spoke. A queen who had retreated near her guards as things had begun to escalate. She took a ginger step forward, "And what if we wish to become mortal again?" she questioned in a voice that was quiet yet strong.

    The three other queens looked to her, two of which giving her an absolutely menacing look for asking such. Promising punishment. But one...one seemed to share the same sentiment.

    All looked to the king again.

    "Pardon?" the king asked.

    The queen spoke again, "Once we are Made—once we become immortal," she paused, "What if we wish to become human again?" her chin was raised high, hands clasped in front of her. A queen through and through.

    More silence. The king seemed to lean forward, narrowing his gaze in thought.

    The room was full. The queens eager to learn their answers. The rest of us eager to hear.

The air stretched taut, like a rope beginning to snap. Fraying at the edges as our thoughts ruled over our curiosities. Everyone seemed to pause and Astrid and Flynn looked to the king, a sad hope in their eyes.

They had been forced into this life. Thrust into immortality as Feyre and I had. A fate I would not wish on anyone.

   They had suffered. Endured such unbelievable pain and...I did not know how to help them. Didn't know if I could help them after today.

    Even Elain and Nesta had froze, pausing their sobbing to listen.

    Slowly, so slowly, the king's mouth ticked up in a bone-chilling smile. One born from cruelty and cunning. A smile that sent ice roaring in my veins, howling in my ears.

    A chill crawled up my spine. And it was something...something that told me that things were not right. Out of place. Something was very, very wrong.

    "A brilliant question." The king mused, tucking his arms behind his back with a predatory angle of his head, "And one I can answer..." languidly his head turned to me, black, lifeless eyes connecting with my own, "And demonstrate."

    My very heart stopped in my chest. Frost spiraling through my bones and muscles as his eyes never strayed away. They stayed on me, searing my skin and melting it away until I was no more than a muddle of flesh.

    No. He couldn't...

    "A creation, made from nothing and reborn, once more turned mortal." he said, and raised a hand toward me.

"No." Rhys breathed in realization, his body shaking ever so slightly. Terror or anger, it didn't matter. His hands pulled me into him like a wall. As if he could shield me from the king's gaze and make him forget wherever his twisted mind had strayed toward.

Even Astrid and Flynn had gone rigid upon the dais. Stijin merely grinned at the king, as if they shared some evil sense of humor.

Everyone in the room held their breath, be it in sick anticipation or glorious dread. Even the queens had gone stiff, some inching closer and closer as if to get a better look, grinning maniacally.

    Another moment. Another year. Another decade, the king stared at me, his hands clutching the arms of his throne as he cocked his head in curiosity. "What is immortal life if not infinite irony?" he questioned. "Restrain her." the king commanded, curiosity still gleaning in his tone. His eyes flickered to the High Lord. "The High Lord of the Night as well."