Chapter Sixty Five

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"Don't you think it's time to wake up, dear?"

My bones locked up as I met the King of Hybern's cold, lifeless gaze. He grinned, and I tried to winnow, tried to run, tried to do anything- but my body would not obey me. I was only a spectator, watching through what once were my eyes as my traitorous body obeyed another force. 

As if he could see my silent struggle, the king smiled. I could do nothing but silently scream as my knees bent, as my body lowered until I was in a bow so low I could see my reflection in the polished marble floor. 

Until I could see the black, hollow eyes that stared back at me. 

A cold, anciently wicked laugh rumbled in my mind, so loud I thought it might kill me.

You didn't think you could ever be freed, did you?

Please, I tried to beg. But the words would not form. The laugh sounded again. 

You are nothing. 

You are nothing

I am nothing. 

...

I waited another full day without seeing anyone but Azriel. He was patient with me, and never asked if I was ready to see any of the others. Waiting for me to say it. 

I would have stayed another week, another month locked away with him. But the way I caught him looking at me when he thought I wasn't looking, with such pain and fear in his eyes... 

I could pretend. I could pretend that I wasn't a mere ghost of who I used to be, for his sake. For him to stop looking at me like I would disappear at any moment. For him to stop looking at me like I was already gone. 

So I'd agreed to finally see them. I'd already seen Rhysand, but we hadn't spoken that night in the war camp. The regret and shame in his eyes... 

I knew Azriel had spoken to them. He hadn't told me so, but he didn't need to. I could guess he'd told them I wasn't ready, that I needed time after everything I'd been through. Rhysand would have objected, demanded to see me, and Azriel would have snarled at him. They would have argued about it, but Azriel had evidently won, since none of them had come to see me in the end. 

Madja was the exception of course, and the wounds on my back no longer hurt. I wished they did. The pain was a distraction from the thoughts I had tried to keep at bay. But now that there was no pain, there was nothing to divert my thoughts. It was part of the reason I decided to finally leave my room, though I would never admit it. 

My heart felt like a thundering storm in my chest as I made my way to the sitting room. I could scent out each of them. Rhys, Feyre, Mor, and Cassian. Amren wasn't there, though. Azriel was by my side, a hand gently guiding me on my lower back. It was his warm touch that kept me walking forward. 

I could barely breathe as each step brought me closer to the moment I had forced myself not to imagine for months. The moment I had silently prayed would happen, yet convinced myself would not.

Clenching my trembling hands into fists, I rounded the corner. And just before I was close enough for the sitting room to come into view, I stopped as if an invisible force had slammed into me. 

Azriel stopped beside me, his hand still on the small of my back. I closed my eyes, taking a shuddering breath. 

They did not need to see this part of me. I could show them lies, could play the roll until it became reality. If it ever did. 

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