A Court of Shadows and Lightening

Chapter Twelve

"I should be going with you." Rhys murmurs from the stairwell.

"I should be going with you."

Feyre's voice is soft but determined as she stands in the hallway, her hand resting on the slight swell of her belly.

She had announced last night the pregnancy to the inner circle.

Her eyes twinkled as she glanced to her mate.

I let them talk amongst themselves as I fastened my knives and great sword to my body.

My hands were slick with sweat, I wiped them on my black flying leathers.

I had finally donned the ones Feyre had left for me in my room. The black lined leather fitting comfortably across my form.

Nesta is fae still as she watches the room, her face showing nothing but boredom. She watched Cassian with bewilderment though as he kissed Feyre on the cheek.

Azriel stood to my right, giving Nesta a slight smile at his brothers cool and relaxed disposition.
I tensed as she returned it.

"Shall we?" Rhys sighed towards the ceiling.

Nesta seemed to hesitate, her eyes on the stairs.

I took a long breath in preparation rolling my shoulders. I had opted for wings this morning.

The opaque black of my feathers shone in the light of the room. They ruffled with my movement.

Azriel casts a glance to me, his hazel eyes moving down my attire.

Without saying a word, he moves a scarred hand to a knife sheath on my arm.

I don't have time to react as he pulls the leather and tightens it, the knife more secure to my body.

I must have missed it when I was preparing this morning.

He doesn't speak, instead turns back to his high lord and lady.

I blink at him, before recovering myself.

In the last few weeks I've learned not to be surprised by his cool and calm disposition. He was always quiet, and on the edge of everything. I liked it about him.

"Ready?" Azriels murmurs and I realize I'd been staring.

I nod, my voice suddenly lost. My mouth dry.

"The Middle," Feyre turns to me to include me in the conversation, "is like nothing you've ever experienced  before, do not let your guards down for a moment."

I nod solemnly, ignoring the pit that has grown exponentially in my stomach.

I jump in surprise as  Azriel grasps my hand, the warmth of his large hand spreads up my arm. I look up to him but the shadows have already engulfed us both.

The air was cold, like ice chipping at my skin. As the shadows finally dissipate the full force of the Oorid woods hit me. Like pressure from all sides. I take a large intake of breath, trying to clear my head.

I feel my hand squeeze under the pressure of Azriels own flinch beside me. I turn to face him, watching his face as his eyes narrow at the pressure of the middle.

"Look at this hell hole." Cassian whistled. I realize both him and Nesta had dropped the shadowsingers hand already. I quickly drop it from my own.

Turning to Cassian I hiss under my breath, "Watch your mouth," Cassian raises his brow at my tone.
"The Middle has ears, do not piss it off."

Cassian's face paled slightly before he nodded. I survey the waste land, noting the grey and Black Forest.

Like someone had painted it under a certain tone. I shivered as I took in the broken and dead trees, carcasses of dead solider's littered the ground all in varying stages of decay.