eclipsed nova (UTM Feysand)

19: Rhysand's POV

A/N: short lil chapter :)

"Hands," Amarantha demanded, and my eyes widened. She arched a perfectly groomed brow expectantly, holding out her hands. I sat on the edge of her bed, having just gotten back from her performance of volatile anger and brutality.

Reluctantly, I offered my hands out to her. Before I even had the opportunity to open my mouth to argue, she slapped cuffs around my wrists, forcefully yanking them over my head and securing the metal wiring of her headboard. My pulse quickened at the restriction.

"Wait-"

"Silence," she seethed, eyes narrowing at me. 

She'd bound me before, but this time felt different.

It certainly wasn't something new between the two of us, especially in the beginning years before I'd given up trying to make it all stop. She'd frequently bind my hands above my head as she writhed atop me and used my body however she chose to, knowing I had no other choice but to watch and feel her body. Amarantha was quite fond of anti-magic metals. I'd likely have red rings of raw skin admonishing my wrists for the next few days.

I expected her to swiftly undress me, but she did not. She looked down the bridge of her nose at me, and I finally registered the disdain in her face. There was a look in her eyes I'd only ever seen when she was feeling vindictive. It seemed her child slayings weren't enough punishment for the day. If she was binding me to her bed, there was something she didn't want me to see. My chest tightened.

Feyre.

We'd both seen her flee the scene of Amarantha's violence with her hand cupping her mouth. She was in my room at the moment by herself. Amarantha had been much less demanding with my time as of late, and I'd comforted myself by repeating in my head that she'd found a new toy to maim, but now I wasn't so sure. Her room smelled like no other males but me. Not even Tamlin. She hadn't even told me what she'd done with him.

So, when Amarantha turned on her heel and walked out the door after chaining me, my heart leapt into my throat. I felt like I was suffocating on my own fear. Feyre had looked so afraid. I'd had to hold her mind to keep her from getting herself killed. I wondered then if Amarantha had noticed. Had she seen the panic in Feyre's eyes and the stationary stiffness of her muscles? I didn't even want to think about what she might do if she knew I was protecting Feyre in such ways.

Are you okay? I'll be there soon, I spoke into Feyre's mind, but she gave me no response. The walls of her mind clamped down, refusing to let me inside. Not wanting to hurt her, I kept myself from prying my way in, but it was beginning to eat me alive. I had no idea where Amarantha had gone or what she was up to, and Feyre wouldn't talk to me.

I squeezed my eyes shut in a feeble attempt at centering myself, but it was fruitless. I wouldn't calm down, not until I knew Feyre was safe and back in my arms. I'd been careless and foolish to assume Amarantha was daft when I knew she had the suspicious nose of a bloodhound. She'd certainly have noticed by now how much more time I'd been spending in my room. We hadn't discussed the specifics, but I had assumed she was aware Feyre had been staying in my quarters.

With a sickening flip of my stomach, I realized how wrong I'd been about it all. She hadn't been being kinder or less interested. She'd been testing me, poking at my resolve to see what I might do with slack in the reigns. And I'd endangered Feyre for my own selfish wants and needs. In order to feel less crushingly lonely, I'd placed her right in Amarantha's line of fire. I knew how possessive she was of me, and I'd still made such a floundering mistake.

I tried to reach out to Feyre again, but there was nothing on the other side. She was radio silent, and I had no idea whether or not forcing myself into her mind would worsen things. She could be mourning alone, and Amarantha could be off torturing Tamlin for all I knew, but my mind gravitated towards the worst possible scenario.

There was no part of Amarantha that needed Feyre. To kill her would leave no consequence and killing just so happened to be Amarantha's favorite way to spend her time. I yanked roughly against the cuffs on my wrists, and hissed in pain when my skin began to singe from the burn of the iron.

I contemplated reaching out to the girls and asking that they go and check on her, but I couldn't endanger them, too. And if I thought Amarantha was suspicious now, she'd be bloodthirsty if she saw that I'd sent out my spies to protect the girl she'd gifted to me as a living sex toy. How would I even defend such a thing?

I left the bridge between Feyre's mind and my own wide open in case there was any give from the other side. She had to be furious with me if she'd somehow taught herself how to shield. As long as she was alive, I reminded myself. As long as I got her out of here alive, I could live with her hating me. It would cut me up inside, but I could rest knowing I'd done everything I could have to protect her.

I just prayed I wasn't too late.