Golden sunlight soaked through the blanket over her body, beams of light falling in her eyes and making them flutter open. She looked at robin's egg blue wall, hung with portraits of people Callie didn't recognize. It only took a few seconds until the panic set in, and she scrambled back against the headboard, clutching the blanket to her chest as if that would have protected her from anything.
She heard a creak and turned to see the man who'd been outside of her cell leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, and looking at her with weary eyes. He regarded her like she was a rabid animal let out of her cage- like he needed to approach slowly. Callie realized she was clenching her jaw and forced the muscles there to relax.
Perhaps she'd died. She had died and had been transferred somewhere to be faced with all she'd done, to pay for the damage she'd caused. Because in front of her was a man she had killed, very much still alive. He looked uncomfortable, to which Callie couldn't agree more.
"You're alive," she said, throat raw and scratchy like she'd been shouting.
The man looked pained, his features contorting into something that could only be described as agony. He stared at the floor, unmoving and unspeaking. Callie almost repeated herself, thinking that he must not have heard her, when he finally spoke.
"I am," was all he said.
"I killed you," Callie said, deciding to get straight to the point.
"I understand that was what you were told, yes," he murmured, looking to the door as if he were waiting on someone. "Callie, there's so much I feel like I need to say-"
As if on karmic timing, the door creaked open and a short, stout woman peeked through, eyes bloodshot as though she'd been crying for quite some time. She was much older than Rhysand, even. The sight made something inside Callie snap in half and she couldn't even remember why. The blonde from her dreams peeked over the woman's shoulder with that same glitzy, million-dollar smile.
"Hey, asshole," the blonde beamed, waving recklessly and nearly smacking the shorter woman in front of her on the back of the head. The shorter woman turned to glare, and the blonde let out a hissed "my bad."
"Blink if you're being held captive and I'll kick his ass," Vera shout-whispered despite Rhysand clearly being within earshot, even without fae hearing. Vera tip-toed, attempting to see if Callie responded.
She looked to Rhysand for any form of help or clue, and he looked at her like something inside of him had broken, too. He pulled an emotionless mask over his features, turning to look at the door. His black hair was messy like he'd been anxiously pulling at the roots.
"I am so sorry to ask this of you," he began, speaking to the shorter woman first before his eyes flitted up to the blonde. "Vera, could I have another moment? I swear I'll come get you the moment we're finished here."
The blonde's smile dropped, and she rolled her eyes, scoffing and walking back down the hallway grumbling something about pompous bats and small wingspans. The shorter woman forced herself to turn and leave, movements mechanical like she was having to remind her muscles how to work. She clicked the door shut behind her.
Callie stared at the door blankly for a few moments more when Rhysand spoke again.
"Do you know who I am, Calina?" He asked, not quite meeting her gaze.
"Rhysand," she whispered, and he nodded.
"Is there anything else you remember?"
Callie shook her head, yet again clawing at her own mind in frustration of all that should be there but wasn't. She knew what she needed, though. She'd felt overwhelmed by guilt and loss from the moment she'd awoken, and it had all come crashing back down onto her shoulders. And here was a physical reminder of all she'd lost.
"Azriel," she said, although it came out more as a demand.
"You were screaming his name for hours in your sleep," Rhysand nodded. "Do you remember him, then?" His eyes searched her face for the truth.
"Not from before," Callie explained. "Where is he?" She lifted her head and attempted to see if anyone was outside, but saw nothing more than forest, dense and green and melancholy. The snow had all melted, but Callie knew better than to assume that meant it was warm outside. They had to have found him by now, right?
"Callie," Rhysand began, burying his face in his hands before dragging them down his face. He looked miserable. "Azriel is gone. We were never able to find him."
Callie's eyes widened and the ache in her chest opened like a dam, wearing anger as a mask. She felt ready to claw Rhysand's eyes out. She clenched her fists and fought back the overwhelming need to be anywhere but here.
"Don't you fucking tell me that," she spit out. "I do not fucking accept that. Where. Is. He. Where is my mate?" She was practically yelling now, and Rhysand flinched under every word she hurled at him, but she couldn't help it. She refused to accept that he was gone. Wouldn't she feel it? If he was really dead, wouldn't their bond feel different in her chest?
"I promise you that I personally looked for him for weeks, risking everything and everyone on the hope that-"
"Where is Cassian? Where is Azriel?" Callie growled, kicking the blankets angrily off of her body and searching for her shoes. Where the fuck were her shoes? If no one here saw it fit to help, she would go on her own. He hadn't left her, and she would never leave him. He was out there somewhere. He had to be.
"Cassian?" Rhysand questioned, his brows furrowed in confusion. "So, you remember him, too?" He stood, placing his hands in his pocket at he thought, trying to force the pieces together in his mind.
It dawned on him all at once and he rushed over to her, gripping her arms so tightly that she gasped. Her eyes were huge as she looked up at him, catching a flash of the beast that lurked beneath the beautiful and haughty High Lord. She didn't like it. She wanted away, but he held her tightly.
"Callie," he hissed, "have you seen Azriel and Cassian?" He was breathing heavily through his nose, his chest rising and falling like he was barely managing to keep his cool.
"Of course, I have," she scoffed. "Az saved me more times than one. Can you fucking let go?" Something registered in his eyes as he realized how intense his reaction was, and let go of her arms, his hands falling limply at his sides.
"Out there?" Rhysand pointed to the window. "You have seen them out there since we have been gone?" He was looking at her like he didn't believe her, which only stoked the flames of her burning fury.
"What are you not understanding?" Callie shouted. "Where are my shoes? I'm going to find him." She dropped to her knees, looking under the bed, but finding nothing. She was still in her same clothes, but someone had taken off her shoes before putting her in bed. They had to be here somewhere. Maybe they'd even be generous enough to send her out with a coat. The snow outside had melted, but Callie still didn't trust that the temperature was much above the freezing point. It was never warm in the Steppes. She'd heard Az say so himself.
"Callie-" Rhysand tried again, but she threw open the bedroom door and stomped down the hallway and into the living space, filled with way more people than she was expecting to see. Ignoring them in favor of finding Azriel sooner, she spotted her boots by the door and bolted, yanking them onto her feet and tying them as quickly as she could.
She threw open the front door, marching into the insane brightness, eyes barely open and tears leaking as she blinked. Her body felt like it was going into shock. It was hot. Why in the hell was it so cauldron-boiling hot? She couldn't imagine she'd been asleep for more than a day, and the temperate and climate had changed entirely.
Her brows knitted together as she turned, looking for the jagged peaks of the Illyrian steppes anywhere in the distance, but there was nothing. The air hung with a humidity that would never be found in the northern regions of the Night Court.
Rhysand slowly and cautiously followed her outside, a few of the fae from inside huddling at the door to watch. He moved with intention, so as not to startle her as he watched her process everything.
"No," Callie said, shaking her head. She stepped backward, banding one arm around her stomach as the other covered her mouth to hold back the wailing that desperately wanted to escape from her lips. "No." She put her hands above her head and began to pace, forcing herself to breathe.
"Callie, if I could just explain-"
She held up a finger to him, her eyes like cold death.
"No. Take me to him. Now." She demanded, fuming. She felt like she was going to explode. All of the eyes on her skin made her feel like she couldn't breathe, couldn't think- gods, if she could just make her brain work.
"Cal, just let him talk to you," the blonde from earlier encouraged from the doorway. Callie's features morphed to show her rage. She was shaking and her cheeks were rosy. Her body temperature was so high.
"Who the fuck are you?" Callie spit out at the blonde, disgust laced in her tone. The blonde visibly deflated, but Callie didn't have the energy to feel sympathy. She was too concerned with finding her mate, and finding him NOW.
"Do you need any help, man?" The red-haired one who was outside of her cell with Rhysand asked from the doorway. Callie was moments from doing her best to kick his ass, which was unfortunate because her best would likely land her with a deep need to see a healer.
"Eris," the blonde scolded, smacking his shoulder to get him to shut up.
"If you won't help me, I'll look for him myself. I'm not fucking leaving him out there." Callie yelled in frustration, feeling like her body wasn't big enough for this many emotions.
"Out where, Callie? Where is he?" Rhysand asked, voice still soft like he didn't believe her and wanted to soften the blow.
"In the Steppes, you bastard! He took us up to come cabin he said he knew from childhood, and we found Cassian. If we're lucky, they're still alive. But they are freezing to death and starving." Rhysand stared at Callie like he'd never seen her before.
They all stood in stunned silence before Rhysand bolted into action, moving so quickly that he was nearly a blur. He swept Callie up into his arms, paying no mind to how she squirmed and fought, hitting her fist against his chest as she sobbed.
He let her down once they were in the bedroom, forcing her to sit on the chair he'd been in. He knelt in front of her with his hand on her knee in an attempt to offer some form of solace. Tears were welling in his eyes, but he was good at disguising it with his behavior. If Callie weren't this close, she likely wouldn't have even noticed.
It was a strange thing to see a fae High Lord in such shambles, let alone kneeling to someone not even born in their Court. His dark swirling tattoos peeked out from his collar when he moved, and his violet eyes held nothing but dismay.
"If what you are telling me is true, I owe you much more than my life, Calina. I owe you my wife, my son, and now my brothers. I need you to trust me when I say that if he's in those mountains, I will find him. I need you to stay here so that I can-"
"I'm going," she snarled, trying to stand, but he placed a hand on her shoulder to hold her down. He was poking a raging bear and he was likely to get his fingers bitten off if he didn't act with care.
"I need you to stay here because I can look for him easier if I don't have to carry you. Your family has been begging to be let in to see you, but I worried you were in too fragile a state to have visitors just yet." Callie's eyes nearly jumped from her skull.
"My... family?"
Rhysand nodded.
Callie tried to conjure a mental image of her family but could find none. She didn't remember if she still had parents or siblings. She had no idea what her life was like before Maeve. All of it was gone. Entirely stolen from her.
"When I took Feyre away before my son's birth, I had visited Summer Court and had taken them to my safehouse. This safehouse. I never told you because I was in no place to make promises to anyone, and there was no way to know if Maeve would progress this far. I didn't want to break your heart all over again if I'd tried to save them and failed. Luckily, Maeve currently does not have ships or the ability to fly. We are in hiding with some old friends of mine who aided us in the war against Hybern. I've tried my best to alert them to your condition, but Vera has me nearly ripping all of my hair out with the insistence that if she just talks to you, she can help you remember." Rhysand scoffed lightly with the smallest of breathy laughs.
"C-can I? Or will I?" Callie chewed her lip.
"It is incredibly unlikely. Shattering minds does quite a lot of damage. Even with as much experience as I have, I still was unable to keep from doing any permanent damage. It's likely that you'll never get those memories back. I am so sorry. We can discuss it more and look for other options when I return if you'd like." Callie nodded quietly.
"Is he really alive?" Rhys asked, tears turning his eyes watery and red. The sight was like a dagger straight to Callie's heart. This powerful and arrogant man was on his knees in front of her, begging her to let him know if his brother was alive. It was incredibly vulnerable and made Callie's throat feel thick.
"Yes," she managed to get out. "Please find him."
"Those two mean more to me than I could ever put into words. You have no reason to worry about my motivation to find them. Had I known they'd survived the last battle, they would have been here the moment I was and absolutely not a moment later. I will find him, and I will bring him home to you. I swear it, Callie. On my entire Court I swear it." Although she didn't expect to, Callie believed him.
"I need him," she whimpered, barely biting back her emotion.
"So do I," Rhysand said, squeezing her knee in his large palm comfortingly. "You have done more than anyone ever should have asked of you. You have fought and done your part. Now is your turn to rest and recover and it's my turn to fight. So let me take the burden from you. I promise I can bear it," Rhysand said, letting his tears fall freely like he hadn't even noticed them gliding down his cheeks.
"Please," Callie breathed. Begging was all that she had left in her arsenal. She had to trust that it was enough. Rhysand said they would have needed ships to travel this far, and without wings, Callie would never make it to him, but Rhysand could. She had to allow someone else to help her, which made her feel she was on the verge of detonating entirely until all she was became ash. Callie despised the idea of giving up the last bit of control she'd been afforded.
"I promise," Rhysand swore.
He stood and left the room, leaving Callie alone with her thoughts, which were roaring and spinning her in circles. It was like she couldn't even form a coherent thought anymore. It was all too overwhelming and confusing. Their issues took up so much space that there was none left for Callie. She didn't even feel human. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she felt safe or well-rested.
Feyre and... apparently her family, also, had survived here for long enough. Callie chose to trust that it was real, chose to trust that someone else could and would help, and chose to use the moment to her advantage. She laid down to rest, deciding she didn't have the capabilities of reconciling with family members she had no recollection of yet. She needed a moment to be human and to care for herself, something that hadn't even crossed her mind in months. Plus, she told herself that every hour she slept was one less hour to sit by the door, waiting for Azriel to walk in and hold her and tell her everything would be okay.