eclipsed nova (UTM Feysand)

32

I leaned my cheek on his shoulder, wrapping my arms around him as I listened to him speak. His chest rumbled with his words and his skin was hot. I wanted nothing more than to take the burden from him and bear it myself, and it killed me that I was completely helpless, too.

"I have dreams where I wake up and I'm still there and she's still hurting you and there's nothing I can do to save you," he sobbed, breaking down all over again. His body shook as his emotions poured out.

"I'm right here," I soothed him. "She will never hurt either of us ever again."

"Feyre, I can't lose you," he said, looking at me with tear-filled bloodshot eyes.

"You won't," I promise him.

"You are everything to me," he tells me.

"I love you."

"Why does none of this feel real? I can't find my footing here," he said, his voice breaking. "I feel like at any second it's all going to be taken from me again. How am I supposed to just go back to being a High Lord like the last 50 years of my life never happened? How can I laugh and smile with my family when I can still feel her all over me?"

I kissed his shoulder, listening intently and allowing him this space to be completely honest with himself and with me. Holding these emotions inside to save everyone else the hurt did nothing but damage him further. I needed him to know that this was safe to do, and that I would always listen.

"I scrub my skin raw in the shower and I still feel so fucking dirty," he spit. "I'm so constantly disgusted with myself and with who I am. I replay the deaths of all the people she made me kill. I see their eyes and the desperation in their faces as they begged me for their life."

"You are good, Rhys. You are kind. You are loyal. You are worthy of love and peace."

"Then why do I feel like this? I'm nauseous every time I think of all the things I did just for the sake of staying alive. I can't stop replaying how much I hurt you and the ways I degraded you and traumatized you. I can't even fathom how you could love me." Tears were streaming down his cheeks so consistently they seemed like they may never stop. He was drowning in oceans of pain.

"Because that is not who you are, Rhysand," I insisted.

"Yes it is," he cried out.

"No." I looked him in the eyes as I said my next words, needing to see that he understood what I was saying to him. "You saved my life. Nothing you did under that mountain was who you truly are. You did what you had to do to protect your family and your home. You protected me and countless others down there. You sacrificed yourself over and over and over enduring pain so that no one else had to. You are selfless and brave and I am so lucky to get to love you."

"Feyre," he choked on a sob. He pulled me into his lap, hugging me tightly like he couldn't bear the thought of ever having to let go. I buried my face in his neck and breathed in the comfort of his scent. He was home to me.

"I love you, Rhysand," I repeated. I would say it as many times as I needed to for him to hear me and understand. "You are my mate. I will be by your side for the rest of our lives. You do not scare me. I know exactly who you are, and I love every single part of you, even the parts you feel most ashamed of. I will never be ashamed of you. I am so proud of all you have overcome and so proud to get to call you mine."

"I love you," he cried into my shoulder, clinging to me for dear life.

"Tell me more about this mating bond," I said softly, trying to lead him out of his panicked state. He sniffled, laughing gently into my shoulder.

"Well, mates are souls destined for one another. You have to accept the bond for it to be sealed, but for us, it's certainly there." I smiled at him, pushing his hair from his forehead where it had clung to his skin with sweat.

"How do you accept the bond?"

"Traditionally, the female would offer the male food," he explained. "It's slightly archaic, but that's how the magic of it works."

"Any food?"

"Pretty much," he nodded. "Just something that you have made and offered."

"C'mon," I coaxed him, standing up from the bed and tugging on his hand until he rose and followed me. I led him through the townhouse and into the empty kitchen. I pointed to a bar stool pulled up to the kitchen island. "Sit." He obeyed me, watching wearily.

I opened cabinets, looking for something easy enough to make, and came upon a can of soup. I dumped it into a pot, using the stove to heat it to a simmering temperature before pouring it in a bowl and grabbing a spoon, sitting it in front of him.

He looked up at me with red, sad eyes.

"You know what this means?"

"You love me?" I ask him.

"More than anything," he tells me.

"Then eat."

Hesitantly, he picked up the spoon and took a bite of the soup. I felt the bond snap between us immediately. It was a solid gold thread of warm light tying me to him. It'd been there all along, but now it was shimmering and prominent. And I had never loved him more.