𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ! [ rhysand ]

𝐱𝐱𝐢. love and lust !

The faeries began murmuring, and gold clinked. In the crowd, red hair gleamed⎯four heads of red hair⎯and Ana grew even more stiff. She knew his brothers were waiting with bated breath for Lucien to finally meet his end. The rest of the Autumn Court family remained hidden, no sight of its High Lord or Lady.

Amarantha gestured with an elegant hand to the wall by her feet.

"Here, Feyre darling, you shall find you task. Simply answer the question by selecting the correct lever, and you'll win. Select the wrong one to your doom. As there are only three options, I think I gave you an unfair advantage." She snapped her fingers, and something metallic groaned. "That is," she added, "if you can solve the puzzle in time."

Not too high above, the two giant, spike-encrusted grates that Ana had believed to be chandeliers began lowering, slowly descending toward the chamber⎯

Ana's heart stopped. They'd both be killed if Feyre didn't pick the correct answer. And as if being crushed to death wasn't bad, the spikes were glowing red, heat rippling from them and stinging the air.

This would not be a clean death.

Feyre turned to the wall that held the riddle and approached it. 

Ana prayed to the angels, the Mother, the Cauldron, and whoever would listen, that her lessons with Feyre were enough to help her read the riddle and get the answer correct. They had to be, or else both would die, and the fate of Prythian would be on Ana's shoulders. And Ana wasn't sure she would be alive long enough to save it once Amarantha had total control over her. 

The spiked grate was still descending, now level with Amarantha's head, and would soon shut off any chance Feyre stood of getting out of the pit.

"Something wrong?" Amarantha raised an eyebrow. She was taunting Feyre. No one had told her that the mortal knew nothing of how to read, and yet Fate had made this her test. Oh, how Ana wanted to scream.

The chains Lucien wore rattled and strained. He cursed as he fought against them for freedom, but it was a useless waste of strength. 

The grate passed the lip of the pit, filling it entirely. Ana could only see Feyre through the holes in the grate. The girl was sweating with nerves and heat, and all Ana wanted to do was jump into the pit and help. But she couldn't.

No, no, no, no. Raziel, you bitch, if you're listening, help. Ana barely prayed to the angel, but she hoped he'd answer her still. 

"Answer it!" Lucien shouted, his voice hitched. 

The metal groaned as it scraped against the smooth stone of the chamber, and the faeries' whispers grew more frenzied. Eris chuckled within the crowd, and Ana had to fight back her power roiling within her veins. 

"Feyre!" Lucien cried, panting as he stared at the ever-lowering spikes. The gleeful faces of the High Fae and lesser faeries sneered at them through the grate. Feyre's eyes were flickering over the inscription, and Ana continued to pray to whoever would listen. Her lips moved silently as her mind reeled. Please, please, please. "Just pick one!"

The brothers of the Autumn faerie laughed louder than the rest. Ana watched as Feyre reached for the second lever, then paused. She reached again, but paused once more. She reached for the first lever and had the same reaction. Then, she reached for the third, her hand clamping down on it. Yet, she hesitated, and Ana wondered why.

"Feyre, please!" Lucien moaned.

Feyre pulled the lever, and Ana let out a sigh of relief.

The spikes stopped their descent, groaned, then began lifting. Ana could have cried⎯she was sure she was crying.