It was dark under the caverns of St. Everens. Stijn's grip on my small hand hurt and I tried pulling away so many times but had only encouraged him to draw blood.
"Please," I sobbed as I tried to stop the walking, "Please I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Salty tears streamed down my face in waves. I didn't want to do this. Not again. Never again.
I saw the door at the end, and could hear their screams as the door opened to let someone out. Her fiery red hair was a stark contrast to the black monochrome dungeons.
Amarantha tsked before she laughed, "Oh, little Danika, have you yet to learn your lesson?" Her loud heels clanked on the stone floors as she took a step and waited for us to come to him. Stijn still dragged me crying. I was small. Smaller than either of them.
My wrist had begun to bleed as his fingernails pierced my flesh, Stijn threw me into Amarantha's hold and the queen caught me by the neck, as she choked me. "Sweet, sweet Danika. Always so weak." She laughed and Stijn came to her side, smiling the menacing look I was so familiar with. Amarantha turned around, adjusting her hold on my neck so that she could choke me again if needed.
Stijn opened the door for us and I wept at the contents of the room.
Astrid and Flynn's bodies lay on the ground in a pile, their throats still bleeding from the long gashes. Their eyes turned to me, still alive, pleading for me to help them. To save them. But I couldn't. Amarantha's hold tightened on me as she laughed in my ear.
My eyes caught on the large stane table in the room and on lay a crying seven-year-old Feyre.
I was eight.
Stijn approached the table carrying a too familiar bundle in his hands. And I cried harder, "Please don't do this." My voice broke on the words. But Stijn just smiled in response and Amarantha's satisfied laugh rang in my ear again.
Stijn placed the tool kit at the sit of Feyre's head, grinning like an addict as he pulled out the sharpest knife in the tool kit. He looked up at me then, "There's no one left to save you now, Little Warrior."
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There's no one left to save you now.
In every dream, it was always the same words. Whether it was Amarantha or Stijn. Whether Amarantha tortured me, or if Stijn made me torture someone or he did it himself. The same words every time before I woke up.
There's no one left to save you now.
The words hadn't stuck to me as they did on the morning of Feyre's wedding day. Once my sister did marry Tamlin...there truly wouldn't be anyone left to save me. But I wouldn't be selfish. I wouldn't cost Feyre her happiness. Even if I was sure that after they were married that Tamlin would find some way to get rid of me, to make Feyre hate me. Maybe he'd finally get her to see what I truly was.
I rushed out of my bed once more, heading for the balcony and its fresh air. I slammed open the doors, welcoming the fresh breeze and the sun I could just barely see on the horizon.
I calmed my breathing over the course of minutes.
It was only after I had regained my bearings that I realized what day it was.
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I looked at my sister in her ugly wedding gown as she stared at herself in the mirror. Her dress was terrifying, but she looked self-conscious enough that I said nothing.
The dress was a monstrosity of chiffon and gossamer, the skirts made her look like a sparkling cupcake. I pitied her. Ianthe had picked out the dress, I suppose her fashion choices weren't up to date because all she wore was her traditional blue robe.
"Don't be nervous," Alis said from beside my sister.
"I'm not," Feyre replied almost defensively.
"I'm sure everything will be fine." I tried to assure the bride-to-be. But she was still staring off into some alternate space as she thought. Something had felt off with her all day, but I couldn't place it.
Alis looked my sister up and down, assessing her. "You're fidgeting like my youngest nephew during a haircut." she fussed over Feyre's dress, and a few servants gathered by the door to get a peek at Feyre. Alis shooed them away immediately and the two of us pretended that they were never there at all.
"You look beautiful," Alis said quietly.
"Thank you." Feyre choked out.
"And you sound like your going to your funeral."
A very obviously fake grin crossed my sister's face. I stood from my seat as Feyre stepped down from the pedestal she was on. I approached my sister and placed my hands on her shoulders, "I'm happy for you," I hugged her, "And if you want to run away I'm here too." I tried to joke, but it just sounded empty to me.
Feyre smiled a bit. And I realized just how broken we both were.
"I'll meet you down there."
I said nothing else before I walked out of the room and started walking out to the courtyard. I ran into Lucien on the way there, and the two of us made some boring conversation. Lucien and I were friends, even if we barely saw each other.
We finally arrived at the venue, a mess of white and emerald colors. I looked at the seats, all holding the names of guests. I soon realized that I had been placed right next to where Tamlin was meant to stand. I sighed in defeat, never would he let me have just a moment.
But that wasn't what made me stop in my tracks as I stated at something. It was the red roses gathered by the alter. They were scattered all over aisle like rain drops, and there was a large puddle of them gathering where the couple would stand on the dais.
I couldn't help but think the petals looked like blood. Like deadly drops of life.
My breath hitched and Lucien stopped a few steps ahead of me, "What's wrong?" he asked as he cocked his head.
"Why are they red?" I asked, almost choking on the words as I couldn't look away.
Lucien just shrugged, obviously not noticing my distress in the moment. I closed my eyes, forcing everything down. Forcing myself to be the mindless slave the High Lord wanted. I held my head high, trying not to look at the petals as I came to my seat in the front row.
I sat there for a moment in the uncomfortable wooden chair, trying to gather my best happy face for the ceremony. The wood on the chair next to me creaked as someone sat down.
I didn't need to look over to see who it was. Besides Lucien—who was near the alter—no one else would dare to approach me today.
"If you do anything to ruin today, Danika, you'll regret it," Tamlin said from beside me, both of us were looking forward, acting like there was no conversation going on at all.
"I know, High Lord," I replied in a monotone voice. Like a good little pet.
"There will be repercussions." he warned further.
"I am aware," I told him. Tamlin said nothing else before he stood and took his place below the arch of white flowers. Waiting for his bride.
Music started and the crowd of three hundred people got to their feet, all turning to look at Feyre who stood just near the beginning of the white path. My sister began walking down the aisle, her eyes never straying from her waiting fiance, until she dared just a glance...
Feyre stopped in her tracks as her eyes caught on the red rose petals. I watched as her chest stopped rising as if she stopped breathing.
Her gaze slowly, ever so slowly came to her High Lords.
She started walking again, except this time her steps were rushed like she just wanted it over with. Her breathing was so ragged that I could hear it even from far away.
She came within ten steps of the dais, and her steps slowed...
And then she stopped entirely.
Her face was one of terror as if the dais was a monster. Her eyes switched between the crowd and I could see as panic flashed in her eyes over and over like a tornado.
Tamlin extended a hand out to his bride—a hint to keep walking—and I noticed as his eyes narrowed only a little bit at my sister.
But she only looked at it...and did nothing. She was rooted to her place as though she'd been glued to it.
I couldn't let it happen.
I couldn't let Feyre stand there alone.
I took a breath and stepped into the aisle, "Stop," I said, all eyes turned to me, but I only looked at the High Lord—waiting for his reaction. For a moment his eyes held curiosity as to what I was doing, and then that curiosity morphed into anger as he realized.
"She-she can't marry you," I told him even as my hands shook, and I immediately balled them into fists behind my back. I felt cowardly, I would have never used to be nervous standing up to someone—let alone Tamlin.
"And why is that?" Tamlin straightened himself, his voice like stone.
"Because I convinced her not to..." The crowd erupted into whispers and gasps, "yet." I added in an attempt to save myself. Tamlin's anger then turned to fury. His head turned to the large crowd.
"Why doesn't everyone go get refreshment in the Great Hall while we get this delay sorted." Ever the calm High Lord. But I knew better.
People began leaving their seats and walking the short distance to the hall. Soon all the chairs that had just been filled with people had emptied and the only people left were Feyre, Tamlin, Lucien, Ianthe, and I.
Tamlin looked at his bride and then to the two other people, "Let us discuss this in private." He said in a voice that was a mask of calm. I squeezed my eyes shut, I didn't want to be alone with him. The only one that didn't hesitate to go was Ianthe, but even my sister and Lucien gave in to the High Lord's masked orders.
They started walking back to the house instead of the Great Hall.
And then it was only the wrathful High Lord and the cowardly fake.
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Tamlin approached me in slow steps, "What do you mean you convinced her not to?" he drawled in a low voice that sent fear rolling through my veins in powerful waves.
"I told her that maybe she should...wait a little while, you've only known each other for a few months," I spoke breathily, It felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest.
I looked at Tamlin's hands, seeing the deadly claws that had escaped from his knuckles. He bared his teeth at me like an animal, "You had no right."
"She is my sister, I want what's best for her."
"And I'm not best for her?" He snarled as he came so close that I could see the fangs that appeared in his mouth.
I was scared.
I was really damn scared.
"I didn't say that—"
Suddenly Tamlin's hands were on my neck and I could scarcely breathe. As the air was beyond reach from my lungs. Black spots clouded my vision.
Tamlin's hands retracted from my back at lightening speed. I saw the shock in his eyes as he stepped back. As if he didn't know the limits of his anger.
His grip was so tight that I was sure there would be bruises the next time I looked in a mirror.
I doubled over coughing as air filled my lungs once more, leaning on one of the chairs for support.
I just wanted to get out of there.
I wanted to leave and never come back.
I wanted to be rid of Tamlin.
I needed to be rid of him.
And so suddenly I nearly jumped out of my skin, thunder cracked like a storm behind me, as if boulders had been smashed together with enough force to level a forest as darkness erupted in its wake.
People screamed from the Great Hall as they heard the bang but I didn't dare look over.
I turned around, barely daring to look and see what I already knew was there but I couldn't help myself. And through the Night drifting away like smoke on the wind, I found Rhysand straightening the lapels of his black jacket.
"Hello, Danika Darling." The High Lord purred.
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A/N: Hi all, I know this chapter isn't the most accurate but oh well. I have another question:
Would It be cheesy to steal "My sweet nemesis" from Cardan Greenbriar?
I hope you all love being spoiled with triple chapters😘