A/N: YALL I'M SO FREAKING EXCITED TO WRITE THIS CHAPTER. YOU HAVE NO IDEA, I'M EVEN SO EXCITED THAT I'M PUTTING THIS UP HERE BECAUSE YOU ALL HAVE TO SEE WHAT THIS CHAPTER WILL HOLD. AND LEMME TELL YOU, IT'S A TROPE THAT WE ALL LOVE AND HOLD DEAR. ENJOY.
It was well past two in the morning when I heard it. When I felt it.
When the wood of the house had groaned. Waning and waxing as some phantom magic pulled it. It was as though the wood itself had been stretched thin, the house calling out for help. The colored glass lights in my room flickered as though the light were leached from them for a moment.
I jolted upright in my bed. Running to the window and throwing it open as I searched the skies. Searched for whatever it was that was causing this. An attack, a threat, anything.
There was nothing. Nothing but a starry night with no terror.
Nothing but the darkness leaking into my room from the hall. Whisps gathering and taunting as they flowed.
I knew that darkness. Knew that darkness more than most.
Rhys.
It rushed in through the cracks of the door like a flood. As though a dam had broken, and in came the rush of water before it swept away the world. The house shuddered again. As if in pain.
I yanked open the door and in swept the dam. Rushing and flowing into my room until all that was left was a void. Full of stars and flapping wings—and pain.
So much pain and despair, and guilt, and fear.
I hurtled into the hall without reason, utterly blind in the impenetrable dark. But there was a thread between us. A rope that I tugged on, following it to where I knew his room to be.
Swiftly, I fumbled for the door handle, my hand simply reaching into that void of darkness and hoping to find something that didn't seem to be there.
The door swung open, and more stars and darkness and wind poured out in rivers. Rushing and searching for more to grasp and take.
My hair whipped all around me, and I lifted an arm to shield my face from the harsh power as I entered the room. "Rhys?" I called out.
No response. But I could feel him there—that lifeline between us.
I followed it until my shins banged into what felt like a bed. "Rhysand." I said over the wind. The house shook. The floorboards chattered under my feet, flapping up and down like piano keys. I patted the bed, feeling the sheets and blankets, and then—
Then a hard, tense male body. I didn't care as I climbed onto the mattress. The bed was too big for me to find him from the ground. "Rhys!" I called, finding his toned arm and coming to what felt like his back.
I grabbed him, hefting him up, so I was holding him up from behind as I tried to get him to wake. His back pressed against my chest as I held his arms in front of him. "Rhysand!" Nothing.
I pulled on that bond between us, shouting his name down it as though it were a long, echoing tunnel, banging on his shields of black adamant within his mind, roaring at it.
A crack in the dark.
And then his hands were on me, flipping me, pinning me with expert skill to the mattress—a taloned hand at my throat.
I allowed it.
I had an inkling about whatever he was dreaming about, and pinning him under me felt like spitting in his face.
"Rhysand." I breathed. Rhys, I said down the bond.
The dark shuttered.
I threw my own power out—using that lick of white flame as it crawled against his darkness. Melding with it. Light to dark. I willed it to soothe the rough edges, willed it to calm, to soften. My light sang to his darkness, a song I dredged from deep within me. A song I refused to face other than this sole moment when it would help him.
"It was a nightmare," I said. His hand cold on my neck. "Just a nightmare."
Again the dark paused. And again, I sent my own veils of power brushing up against it, running a star-flecked hand down the walls.
And for a moment, the inky blackness cleared enough that I saw his face above me: drawn, pale, wide eyes—scanning the room as though it were a battlefield as he pieced his mind back together brick by brick.
"Danika." I whispered, "I'm Danika." His breathing was jagged, uneven. I gripped his wrist at my throat, gently, soft. I held it but nothing else. "You were dreaming, Rhys."
I willed that darkness inside myself to echo it. To sign those raging fears, brushing against that ebony wall of his mind. Gentle, calming. I never thought I'd describe myself that way.
Then, like snow shaken from a winter tree, the darkness fell away. Taking mine with it.
Moonlight poured into the room. Sounds of the city crawled through the window.
His room was similar to mine. The bed so big it had to have been built to accommodate wings, but all tastefully and comfortably appointed.
And he was naked above me. Utterly naked. Gods, spare me now. I didn't dare look lower than the tattooed panes of his chest.
"Danika," He repeated, his voice hoarse as though he'd been screaming.
"Yes." I said. He studied my face—the taloned hand at my throat. And snatched it back immediatly.
He shifted away, and I sat up, looking to where he now knelt on the bed, rubbing his hands over his face. My very traitorous eyes indeed roamed lower than his chest, thankfully snagging on the twin tattoos on his knees before I dared look lower.
A towering mountain crowned by three stars. Beautiful, yet brutal.
"You were having a nightmare." I said slowly.
His hands still ended in long black talons, and his feet...they ended in claws, too. His wings were out, slumped behind his back like he hadn't had the strength to hold them up any longer. I wondered how close he'd been to shifting into the beast he'd once told me he hated.
He lowered his hands from his face, talons fading into fingers. "I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to apologize for." I said, and meant it. But the look in his eye told me he didn't believe me. That he'd blame himself even more than he already did.
I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. "That's why you're staying here, not at the House. You don't want the others seeing this."
"I normally keep it contained to my room. I'm sorry it woke you."
I fisted my hands in my lap to keep from touching him. "Don't apologize." I said.
He shook his head, running his hands along his face.
"How often does it happen?" I questioned.
Rhys's violet eyes found mine, and I knew the answer before he said it. "As often as you."
For months, he had helped me with my nightmares. Months, he had put me before him. And I hadn't even noticed how much he'd been suffering, too.
I took a breath, moving so that I was sat beside him on the edge of the bed. "What did you dream of tonight?" I questioned.
Once more, he ran a hand along his face as if to soothe the fear and agony that laced his features. He said nothing, but his eyes lit with something akin to pain.
"Talk to me, Rhys." My words were desperate. Barely more than a breath. "Please."
So much he bottled up. So much he hid from those he loved, just to spare them more guilt.
But I wasn't one of those people. I wouldn't let him put up those walls and spare me from guilt.
He shook his head slightly, looking out the window to a nearby rooftop. "There are some memories from Under the Mountain, Danika, that are better left unshared. Even with you."
He'd shared enough horrific things with me that they had to be...beyond nightmares.
We were silent for a long while, staring out the large window and watching the city in the night. I wasn't sure whether he'd rather be left alone. Maybe he did. But I wasn't ready to leave just yet. I couldn't leave just yet.
I stayed for a long while, simply staring out into the night. It was nice not to talk. To just listen for once. To let the world whisper it's secrets to me.
Finally, I placed a hand on Rhys's arm, naked and all. "When you want to talk. I'm here. I won't tell the others."
He turned to me then, his gaze more raw than I had ever seen. Such pain lingered there—such pain and exhaustion. Something in me cracked at the sight. Everything in me told me to help him. To make sure that pain never crossed his features again.
And yet I knew that was futile. We all had our demons. They haunted our every move. Sometimes, they followed us. Waiting. Hibernating. Sometimes they struck, lethal and deadly. At times they might back away, and yet their shadow always remained. Blocking the light from its path to shine.
I hadn't figured out had to vanquish those demons yet.
I made to stand, only getting so far before he grabbed my wrist, keeping it against his arm. "Stay," he said with enough emotion in his voice that it gave me pause. I looked to him, his eyes bare. Revealing all that was hidden there.
I shouldn't stay. I shouldn't encourage something. Shouldn't become reliant on someone else.
Shouldn't care so damn much.
But looking at the hurt. The pain. The vulnerability in his eyes.
I nodded slightly, sitting back down on the bed.
Blissfully, I thanked every god and goddess in the universe as pants appeared on Rhys's tan legs.
Looking into his violet eyes, still dark and dull, I gave him a small smile, just to tell him I was there. Barely more than a tilt of my lips.
I shifted, laying down on the far side of the bed and pulling the sheets up to my chin. I was tired, and I would stay, but I was going to stay in my sleep.
I closed my eyes. Relishing in the softness and comfort of Rhys's bed, already warm. His bed was much more comfortable than mine. I snuggled into the silky sheets.
Of course, he had silk sheets.
Rhys sat at the edge of the bed for a time. There moments I felt his eyes on me for bleak seconds, and then as quick as it came, the prick of his stare went away.
This meant nothing. I was merely a person comforting another person in their time of need.
I was still just an invisible person as my thoughts strayed to Rhys and I. Colleagues, that's all we were. I was merely a colleague.
I chanted those words in my mind like a prayer until i'd finally managed to convince myself enough that exhaustion was in my grasp.
I was nearly asleep when I felt the bed dip and the sheets tussle as Rhys lay down on the other side of the bed.
Somehow the sheets became impossibly warmer as the heat of his body radiated so close to me.
I didn't think about it.
I tried not to think about it.
I thought about it.
I should leave. This wasn't right. I should get up out of the overly comfortable and alluring bed and go back to my own room.
And yet I was rooted in place.
That same prickling feeling of Rhys's stare engulfed me. It didn't shift away that time. It stayed put, his gaze searing my skin.
For a long moment, he stared, so long that even in my tired state, I spoke.
My voice was gravelly with sleep, and I satisfied smile circled my lips as I said, "I knew you couldn't keep your eyes off me." Maybe it was an attempt at humor simply to lighten the dark mood that had been cast on both of us. Or maybe it was a very amusing truth.
I could practically hear Rhys roll his just slightly. It was enough for me. A light enough motion that I was satisfied for the night.
But his voice was soft as he said, "Thank you."
I felt myself drifting. "What for?" I asked, sleep griping me in one hand, reality in the other.
He didn't answer. But the feel of his stare returned.
Sleep found me soon after.
And a nightmare did not find me once.
─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
A/N: The impulse to call Rhys's feet 'grippers' or 'grubber grabbers' in this chapter was strong.
So I'm going to put it here instead: "His hands still ended in long black talons, and his grubber grabbers...they ended in claws, too.
Also, are you guys enjoying the longer chapters?