𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ! [ rhysand ]

𝐱𝐢𝐱. the first task !

She was hyperventilating. A panic attack, she was sure of it. The familiar pounding in her head and weight on her chest was enough to tell her that. Her hands shook as she tried to breathe, but she couldn't. It was like someone had a hand around her throat and was slowly tightening it until her airways were closed off and her lungs were shriveled lumps. 

Rhys, noticing her problem, pulled out of the hug and took her face in his hands once more. "Hey, hey, hey. Look at me. Look in my eyes." Ana shakily did as he said, her teary eyes meeting his own. "Breathe, Ana darling. Breathe with me. In . . . and . . . out." He removed a hand from her face, just to take her own and place it over his beating heart. "Follow me. In . . . and . . . out."

Ana's eyes remained locked on his own as she felt the steady beating of his heart beneath her shaking fingers. Slowly⎯so painfully slowly⎯her breathing began to match his. In . . . and . . . out. Inhale. Exhale. He never once looked away from her, his thumb brushing over her cheek in soft circles as he held her other hand tightly. He was there. He was real. And he was bringing her back.

When she was breathing normally again, he pulled her into another hug. "I've got you. I've got you."

Ana relaxed in his hold, allowing her body to slump. He had her. He had her and he always would. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯

Ana found herself standing in the throne room once more. She assumed that it had only been a day since Feyre's arrival to the cursed mountain court, meaning that night would start her bargain with Amarantha. The golden tendrils of power thrummed within her body, as if sensing her growing fear for the events that would occur that night. Torture. She was putting herself through endless torture for her sister not by blood, but by choice. 

And maybe that was Ana's fatal flaw? She'd do anything for the people she viewed as family. She'd lay her life down for them, put herself through years of trauma, undo her progress, all to make sure they were unharmed and okay. It wasn't healthy, that much was clear, but after losing so many people she cared about, Ana didn't care. Anything to ensure the safety of her friends and family.

The blonde stood to the left of the dais, able to see the entirety of the throne room⎯including Clare's beaten and bruised body. Feyre was before the self-proclaimed queen, everyone awaiting the riddle that would make or break the future of Prythian if Feyre could not go through all three challenges. Ana held her breath in anticipation. Even if it would be against the bargain to aid Feyre in any way, she still wanted to hear every part of the riddle as clearly as she could. 

A crowd of faeries stood along the far wall. Over their heads, Ana could see one of the few doorways that led out of the throne room. It was a door she had yet to come through. Everyone was clad in rich, colorful clothing⎯all of them seeming clean and fed. Dispersed among them were faeries with masks. The Spring Court.

Amarantha was dressed in a gown of rubies, the color drawing attention to her bloodred lips that were stretched into a serpentine smile. 

The Faerie Queen clicked her tongue. "You look positively dreadful." She turned to Tamlin, still at her side. His expression remained distant. "Wouldn't you say she's taken a turn for the worse?"

He didn't reply; he didn't even meet Feyre's gaze. Ana had to dig her nails into her palms to keep from spitting venomous words at the High Lord. How could he just sit there? It made no sense. 

"You know," Amarantha mused, leaning against an arm of her throne, "I couldn't sleep last thing, and I realized why this morning." She ran an eye over Feyre. "I don't know your name. If you and I are going to be such close friends for the next three months, I should know your name, shouldn't I?"