A Court of Night and Shadows

Chapter 22

I sucked in a breath. "But," I started, suddenly regretting my words.

"But?" he asked, bringing his eyes back to mine.

"But you shouldn't have to ever be alone. Not again. You have them to support you. They want to carry your burdens with you. That's what lifelong friends are for."

His violet gaze searched my own. I thought back to sitting at the table with all of his friends, while he gave me this same look. An obvious look, one with all his feelings laid bare on his face. A look he'd given to me in front of all his friends, perfectly okay with them seeing it.

"I realized that at some point," he said slowly. "I think I realized it when you were laughing with them. You giggled talking to Mor and I could have fallen out of my chair," he laughed and I let a small smile slip across my lips. "You jumped right in with them and they caught you - accepted you. And at some point sitting at that table I realized I was with my family and I just... I looked at you and I felt like I could open up that part of myself I'd locked away while I was Under the Mountain again."

It was my turn, I decided, to reach for his face. I slid my fingers across his jaw then around his neck. His eyes closed at my touch and I was suddenly thinking about that night Under the Mountain - the night I had dressed in strips of fabric and danced for him. I'd sat on his lap and felt his lips against my neck, teasing me, filling me with boundless, insatiable warmth.

And I wanted to feel that warmth again.

Rhys opened his eyes only to widen them at the sight of me. A slow, feral smile pulled across his face. "Something you want, Feyre, darling?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, please."

"Now, you can't go giving me a sex face and then brush me off," he purred and I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Is that what you want?" he taunted me. "Would you rather give or receive? I can be ready whenever you are."

My laugh spewed from my lips. "You're awful!"

"And yet you're still looking at me with those eyes," he said, and despite myself, I tightened my grip on his neck.

"Whatever," I whispered and leaned in, crashing my lips into his. He received me gently, balancing my tenacity with sweet comfort. The taste of him was a mesmerizing as I'd expected it to be. I rocked into him, rising up a little on my knees next to where he sat at my side. His hands found my sides, pulling me toward him until I was piled onto his lap.

Then I remembered.

"Oh no!" I gasped.

"Wh- what?" he stuttered, immediately looking around for danger.

"I haven't cleaned my teeth. I was just puking, Rhysand!"

It started as a quick burst of air through his nose, but it built into a heavy laugh from deep in his belly. "Do you really think I care about that right now, Feyre?"

Then he was picking me up, giving me kisses as I rolled my eyes between my own short laughs. I held my arms around his neck as he led us back to our bed adorned with all new sheets and blankets, where we shared quick, tender kisses until I fell back asleep in a wave of exhaustion.

I stared up that the sharp grassy slope of the small mountain, shivering at the veils of mist that wafted past. Behind us, the land swept away to brutal cliffs and a violent pewter sea. Ahead, nothing but a wide, flat-topped mountain of gray stone and moss.

Rhys stood at my side, a double-edged sword sheathed down his spine, knives strapped to his legs, clothed in those same Illyrian fighting leathers he, Cassian, and Azriel wore. The dark pants were tight, the scale-like plates of leather worn and scarred and sculpted to legs I hadn't noticed were quite that muscled. His close fitting jacket had been built around the wings that were now fully out, bits of dark, scratched armor added at the shoulders and forearms.