A Court of Dawn and Midnight

The Bond

A ripping and tearing sensation pulsed through Rhysand's abdomen as the creature plunged its claws into his skin.

Surprised was an understatement, for there had not been many people, or things for that matter, that had managed to wound him over the years.

Accept for Amarantha. And Feyre, in her own ways.

Rhys hadn't seen the creature before it appeared in front of him in the cave. And that is when it had leapt upon him and attacked the High Lord with those vicious, mutilating claws.

Rhysand attempted to summon his power, to fight back, but he had been drained by the pure night he had conjured up earlier to shield those fae children from the creatures.

A scream tore through his throat as the creature's jagged nails torn into his thigh and ancient blood seeped onto the stones beneath.

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Searing pain erupted in Feyre's leg as she feebly attempted to tear her tunic open where blood was steadily flowing under the fabric.

She screamed in agony as the fabric finally gave and she blinked through her blurring vision to focus on her wounded stomach. Deep, darkening, crimson slashes stood out on Feyre's skin.

But what terrified Feyre the most, apart from the fact that the wound had literally just appeared on her body, was that the slashes were distinctly and obviously claw marks.

Claw marks.

Feyre ripped the tunic off her body and pressed the clothing to her stomach in an attempt to stop the bleeding. She looked down at her leg, now covered in blood as well, and a wave of fear rippled through her veins.

Lucien continued to wither on the forest floor, his voice failing him as the pain from Feyre's flames danced on his skin.

She reached out for him, clutching her stomach as she crawled forward.

"Lucien," she whispered, stunned.

But he backed away, terrified of what she had done to him. And it was obvious that she had been the one to make these flames appear, for her skin still burned and her grey eyes seemed to be charred to black coals.

"Let me help you," she pleaded.

He screamed again as the fire spread up to his face, heating that mechanical eye of his.

And as he continued to cry out, Feyre lept to him and threw her weight on top of him, pinning him to earth so he could not escape.

"Let me help you," she gritted through her teeth as he attempted to push her off of his body.

Lucien seemed to believe that Feyre was actually trying to kill him. He yelped and pounded his fists into her chest as he struggled to free himself.

His strength wavered, the flames continued to scorch his tanned skin, and Lucien was beginning to wound Feyre with his fists even in his weakened state.

She reached for something, anything to defend herself against him so she could help him without him trying to attack her.

Her fingers closed around Lucien's sword that was strapped to his side. She gripped the hilt of it and and swung it towards him, aiming for his hands.

But, the hilt of the sword collided with Lucien's temple, and Feyre screamed as his eyes rolled back and his body became limp.

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Blood.

It was everywhere.

And to Rhysand's horror, most of the blood seemed to be his own.

He'd gone into the cave, where the source of the creatures was located, to try to stop the mist from creating more of the horrid creatures.

But now, now he didn't know if he would ever emerge from the cave alive.

Rhys wielded his sword and struck the creature before it could slash at him again.

The creature stumbled, but it was hardly weakened. It's strength held up and the creature moved towards Rhys once more.

He swung his weapon, but the creature slid out of the blade's path and twisted around Rhys so it stood behind him, right at Rhy's unprotected back.

Rhys spun as the claws narrowly missed Rhysand's back, but instead they sank into his chest, right above his heart.

Rhys screamed in agony as he crumpled to the cave floor.

The creature leaned over him, ready to attack.

Rhysand's vision began to blacken, he had lost so much blood.

Another claw into his chest, another wound dangerously close to his heart.

He could barely lift his sword now. And it seemed that this battle was over, it seemed that the High Lord's reign was coming to an end.

Grey eyes clouded his thoughts, grey eyes that belonged to a woman he could never have now.

He whispered her name to himself, longing for a chance to see those eyes once more.

The creature's breath fanned across Rhysands face. It's teeth scrapped against Rhysand's skin, ready to tear into his neck.

But instead of teeth piecing into him, Rhysand felt the familiar tip of a sword prick his shoulder.

The creature tensed, and then it evaporated into mist.

And Feyre stood above Rhysand, a sword in her hand that was coated in black blood.

She had stabbed through the creature's heart with such force that the blade had been able to reach Rhysand as well.

Her breathing was ragged, and then she collapsed onto the stone ground, sputtering and gasping for air.

Rhys lunged for her, his terror enabling him to find what little strength he had left to grasp her into his chest.

Her tunic was gone, her bare stomach was exposed and he noticed the claw marks that were slashed into her skin.

His pulse quickened, his blood went cold.

A part of him knew, a part of him knew that those marks were identical to his own. And he knew that she had been brought back to the Night Court because of him.

Because Rhysand had called out for her, and link that hung between them, the affection that Rhys had tried to dismiss, had brought her back to him.

A bond. A shared connection between the two of them.

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Sorry for the insanely long wait on this story... but leave a comment! I love to know what you guys think.