Edited
It was the perfect night to execute your plan, being that your first bleeding happened yesterday, and the males were to clip your wings in the morning. Taking a deep breath, you quickly and quietly pack the necessities in your brown leather satchel. Three apples, some cheese, and a half loaf of bread were the basis of your food. Two simple daggers were the only weapons you owned, so you tossed them in your bag. While it was an effort to calm your nerves, you were excited to escape the horrors of the war camp.
As you poked your head out of your one-person tent, you saw how the clouds temporarily covered the moon's light, though it did nothing with the heightened senses the Illyrians possessed. They would most likely hear you sneaking out, but it had to happen tonight. You favored your wings more than anything else. While you departed from your tent, you made sure every step was light and every breath was silent. The singing of the nocturnal animals drowned out your thundering heart as you made your way out of the area.
Mud coated your boots by the time you reached the forest surrounding the camp. You look behind you, noting the many tents containing the Illyrian soldiers that you grew up with. None of them were your friends, you kept to yourself enough that no one had an interest. But your mother... by the time she wakes up, you would be far away. She was the one you would miss the most, not the brutal, territorial males, or the conniving females, but the sweet-hearted kind woman who raised you. Letting the memories flood you one last time, you offer a prayer to the gods to take care of her.
A snap echoed to your left and your nose was suddenly full of the ashy scent of the General. His cronies are directly behind him. Panic filled the marrow of your bones as he stalked out of the shadows of a tree.
"Well, well, well. Look, boys, a female thinks she can get away before they clip her wings." His sneer was all it took to have you running.
Dashing through the woods, your thighs already ached, begging you to stop. But you didn't, not with the General right behind you. Thinking of a plan, you tossed your satchel behind you, hoping it would hit him or lighten the weight for speed. It did neither. In a moment of desperation, you flap your wings; the membrane turning a dark red as the light of the moon illuminated everything. With a few feeble flaps, you had done nothing but make the males laugh behind you. A sob racked your body as tears freely flowed down your face. Frustration and anger riddled your soul as you came to a stop at the mountain cliff.
"You have nowhere to go but with us, so put aside your pride bitch." One minion said, his teeth baring in a low snarl.
"Are you afraid of the life that you are destined for?" The general laughed, "Of the breeding? The clipping? Or maybe the inevitable loneliness?" You could see his nose flare, scenting the bottomless fear rising in your gut.
Making a break for the cliff behind you, determined to die rather than live a flightless life, your efforts were stopped as the two other males landed on the ground and blocked your path to freedom. Breathing became hard, your supple chest rising and falling with such speed it was hard to get anything in. Like an oil-slicked hand, something caressed you. Like a living thing inside of your soul, a thing awakening at trepidation. You take a step and darkness immediately surrounds you. The males disappeared with the ground beneath you. As a decrepit attempt to control your rising dinner, you close your eyes and think of all the things that made you happy during those years. Your mom, the beautiful flowers and colors of the flora she drew. Her stories of a court filled with life and kindness, the Spring Court she called it.
Light erupted around you again, the sparkling darkness fading away on a temperate breeze. It was still night as you frantically looked around you. The new surroundings disoriented you, but even in the dead of night, the colors still popped out. You were in front of an elegant manner and recognized some plants and structures here from your mom's stories and doodles. You knew immediately where you were, but not how you got there. The thing that had awakened inside you had disappeared, like a slumbering feline. Tentatively stepping up the stairs, your wings tucked tight into your body. The glass door of the building offered no sign that there was anyone inside. In fact, the more you looked, the more abandoned and destroyed it was.
For what felt like the hundredth time, you smelled the scents of two males behind you. Their curiosity and rage filled your lungs. Remembering that you threw your supplies, and daggers, at the General, you take a fighting stance. Alright, with hands then. You thought as you turned around, hands still up and balled into fists.
"How did you get through my wards?" Asked the blond male. His green eyes narrowed and looked you up and down. You opted to not engage in conversation as you held his stare. The male looked like High Fae, with his pointed ears and predatory stillness. Not to mention the power he radiated.
"We don't intend to hurt you." A red-haired male said, cautiously taking a step closer to you. "We just want to know how you got past the wards." The tentative look in his eyes had you lowering your fists.
"I don't-I don't know how I got here ok. I was running, and they- they almost took me back." Tears flowed down your face again as you frantically explained that you were not an enemy.
"Took you back where?" The red-haired male asked.
"To the camp, they were going to clip my wings!" You fell to your knees, sobbing. "Please don't take me back!" Not caring how it made you look, you begged for your life, hoping they would take pity and spare you.
"Hey-" He walked closer to you and held out a hand. You met his eyes, looking for any sign of deceit. Right as you were about to take his calloused hand, the blond pushed him back. Faster than you could register, he was in your face. Teeth bared and hand upon your throat, he snarled in your ear.
"I know your kind, Illyrian!" He spat. " I should just kill you right now." He raised his hand. The suffocating thrum of him became unbearable as he dwelled into the well of power and squeezed. With his grip still upon your throat, he made a move to land the killing blow.
"Tamlin!" The redhead had grabbed his hand and spared you from death. "We should hear her out. She is not a threat."
"Lucien, she is part of the Night Court! They are to never be trusted. Especially Illyrians. Let me go so I can waste this life." The blond, Tamlin, looked down his nose at you, fiery rage simmered in his eyes. The scent of your pure, undiluted fear spread through the air, you were pretty sure they were choking on it.
A look of desperation ran across Lucien's features and his metal eye caught the moonlight. "Perhaps we can keep her...for information. She's been in the night court and most likely knows where they are keeping Feyre." You could smell his guilt and as you looked in Tamlin's eyes, you knew whatever he had planned was going to be worse than getting your wings clipped.
"Fine." Tamlin let your neck go and you gasped, trying to get air back into your lungs. "Take her to the cell. We will start tomorrow."
"Ok..." Lucien grabbed your waist and hauled you up leading you away from Tamlin's gaze and into the manor.
"Are you going to torture me?" You ask, suddenly gaining your voice back.
"I'll make sure that doesn't happen. I can't let another female get hurt because of him." His russet eyes bore into yours and you noticed the shadows becoming darker.
"I'll come back with a pack of food and weapons once you are in the cell. Tamlin is going to search the estate to make sure Azriel's shadows aren't snooping around." He continued but all you could focus on is the darkness becoming a person. You make eye contact with them and that thing inside you woke up. Its presence slithers beneath your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.
"Shit," Lucien swore and you followed his gaze. Looking down at your body, you can see tendrils of darkness and starlight whispering all around you. Lazily licking you like a cat. Snapping your head back up, you looked for the shadow person that was behind Lucien but it was gone, and so was the darkness around you.
"This changes things. Why didn't you tell me you're a shadow-singer?" He grabbed your arm and walked faster, down a flight of stairs and into a dungeon. The awaiting cell is now open and ready for you.
"You never asked. And," You looked away, becoming embarrassed that you didn't know what you are. "I didn't know I was." Heat and shame spread across your face as he leads you into the cell.
"I will be back in five minutes with enough provisions for you to make it to the border. Go into the Summer Court and you'll be safe there." His red hair disappeared as the door closed. You sat on the small cot in the corner and waited. Three minutes, five, fifteen, three hours. He never came back, though you heard roars and crashing from the estate above you and assumed he had been caught looking out for you.
Once the day came, the cell door opened and revealed a not-so-happy-looking Tamlin and a guilty Lucien. He didn't meet your eyes as you desired to face this mess with the last remaining bits of dignity. So you stood up and walked towards Tamlin. He grabbed your upper arm, his fingers so tight that you could feel the bruises forming. One that will no doubt blend in with the ones that will form in the hours to come.
They both led you to a glen of dead oaks. A wooden table in the middle bearing weapons of all kinds. Reeling in your panic, you preyed to whatever gods are listening that this would be painless. The look on their faces tells you that it won't.
You were shoved onto your knees by some invisible force and dragged towards two twin trees. With a half of a thought, Tamlin had your wings spread to its full wingspan. His green eyes were dark and his lips formed a thin line as he stalked to your suspended body. Grabbing two spikes and a hammer, you couldn't control the panic that arose at what he was about to do.
"This isn't necessary. I'll tell you whatever you want." The desperation in your voice went unheard as Tamlin lined the spike up with your left wing.
"Rhysand could have altered your mind in any way. Desperation, fear, and pain will bring what I need out. Plus torturing Illyrian filth will bring me some joy." A deadly smirk was plastered across his face.
This is it. You can't survive this. You escaped that fucking war camp just to get your wings impaled on a tree. It was at this moment that you realized that you wanted to die even before death was the only option to escape blinding pain. The scars on your wrists were proof enough. So you looked up, the thing inside was a mere whisper as you gave up all hope of living.
You take a deep breath and whisper the words your mother had the day her best friend was slaughtered, "Mother hold me, Let me pass through the gates, and let me smell that immortal land of milk and honey. Help me fear no evil and feel no pain. Hold me in your arms as I leave this realm. "
There was a resounding explosion of darkness. So similar to the one that brought you to this dreadful fate. And three powerful forms appeared from the darkened tendrils of black.