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song of the chapter: savior complex by phoebe bridgers
"im a bad liar with a savior complex"
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Battle was something I was unfamiliar with.
Cassian had taught me self defense, but that was all. The only reason I'd been able to murder Demetri was because he hadn't expected me to be as strong as I was. I had the element of surprise on my side.
So when I heard that there had been an attack on the summer court, I had been frustrated.
My job in the war had been organizing the armies and creating the battle plans. I also tended to the wounded. But this was an unexpected attack. I had no time to organize anything.
Azriel didn't even want me at the court until the battle was over. We had fought for over ten minutes before Rhys shut us down and commanded me to stay put until he came back for me.
So now, I was just sitting in the townhouse, anxiety eating away at me. I was nearly shaking, my head filled with the awful possibilities of things that could happen to my family.
It wasn't until hours, and a bottle of wine, later that Rhys came back for me. I wiped the tears form my eyes.
"We're staying in a camp above the hills of Adriata," he explained to me. I pursed my lips and took his hand, letting him winnow me to the camp.
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I was up the whole night, tending to the wounds the healers were unable to fix. Some of the injuries were minor, others were near fatal.
Eve spent the night going around the tents to make sure her daughter wasn't one of the dead or injured.
"Diana doesn't live anywhere near her, she's perfectly fine," Rhys had assured her. But Eve had always been a neurotic female, so she continued to search.
Despite the circumstances, I was still struggling to be surrounded by so many people. I kept having to ground myself, take deep breaths.
Of course, most of the males were injured or too focused on the war to intimidate me. But the screams of pain, the sobs, the panicked female healers. All of it was only adding to the anxiety that was welled up in me.
Only a few Illyrians died during the night. But high up in the hills, the screams and wails of Tarquins people rose to us on plumes of smoke from the still-burning fires Hybern had set. They continued burning when we left in the early hours after dawn, winnowing back to Velaris.
Cassian and Azriel remained to lead the Illyrian legions to their new camp on our southern borders —and the former left from there to fly into the Steppes. To offer his condolences to a few of those families.
Nesta was waiting for us in the foyer of the town house, Amren seething in a chair before the unlit fireplace of the sitting room.
"What happened?" Nesta demanded.
"There was a battle. We won," Rhys said.
"We know that," Amren said, her small feet near-silent on the rugs as she strode for us. "What happened with Tarquin?"
"Well, he didn't try to slaughter us on sight, so things went decently?" Feyre said.
"The royal family remains alive and well. Tarquin's armada suffered losses, but Cresseida and Varian were unscathed," Rhys explained to her.
Something tight in Amren's face seemed to relax at the words—his careful, diplomatic words. But Nesta was glancing between us all, her back still stiff, mouth a thin line.
"What happened to her?"
"Who?" Rhys crooned.
"Astraea," she snapped at him. "Why is she covered in blood? I thought she wasn't trained for battle?"
I'd never heard my name on her lips before.
"This isn't my blood," I promised her. "I helped heal the wounded." I looked far better than my companions. Why had she only asked of me?
"We now leave for the meeting in three days," Rhys spoke up. "Send out dispatches to the other High Lords to inform them. And I'm done debating where to meet. Pick a place and be done with it."
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I took a very quick bath, just making sure to get all of the blood off of me. I was going to take a long nap.
When I got out of the bath, I went to my bed, glancing at the clothes I had laid out. My head turned towards the full length mirror across the room.
I stared at my naked body in the mirror, desperately looking for a part of me that he had never touched.
I could barely look at the name carved into my stomach without wanting to spill the contents of it into the trash can.
I hated what I saw. I despised it. It wasn't my body. It didn't belong to me anymore. I traced my fingers over the scars on my stomach.
He had made sure they wouldn't heal. He'd done the same with my wings. I wished I could bring him back just to kill him again. How could anybody do the things he did so easily?
I pulled on a pair of sweatpants, then began putting my bra on. The door opened without a warning knock.
"Raea, I really need to apologize because I can't stand when you're upset—"
Morrigan trailed off when she saw me. Her eyes went from my face to my stomach, then widened in horror.
She was suddenly at my side without a word. She took a hand and grazed it over the scars. I flinched, but then realized she was trying to heal them.
"It's too late for that," I said quietly.
"Why didn't you tell us about this sooner?" she snapped. "We could've had a chance to heal them, then."
"I didn't want anyone to know about it," I confessed. "It's embarrassing."
"I know," she admitted. "I'm sorry that I used him against you. I'm sorry I brought him up at all."
"I'm sorry I hit you," I said quietly. "It was just hearing his name--"
"I know."
"How do you stand seeing your scars in the mirror everyday?" I whispered.
She stared at me for a second, then sighed, shrugging. She still had the scars from the sign being nailed to her womb.
"If my scars are exposed, I try not to look in the mirror," she confessed.
"My hands were one thing," I mumbled. "I got over that eventually. But this is so personal. It's like he marked me as his and I'll never be able to get away from it."
"It doesn't mean anything," she promised me, taking my hand in hers. "It's just a word, Raea."
"It's not just a word," I insisted, my lower lip quivering. "It's a constant reminder of everything he put me through." The expression on her features told me she knew that feeling very well.
And she did know. I knew she did. When my brother had found her in the forest of Autumn, she would only talk to Iridessa, Eve, and me.
She'd told me every single vile thing they'd done to her until we were both in tears. I'd held her and tried to tell her it'd get better.
Azriel, Cassian, Eve, and I were all in the sitting room. Cassian was sobbing into his hands. He blamed himself. I'd tried to comfort him, but he was inconsolable.
Azriel had found her two hours ago. When she'd been brought in, I hadn't recognized her at first. She had been coated in blood, half conscious, and bruises had marred her skin. Her hair was a mess of tangles and had been ripped out in places.
I'd been so shaken by the sight, I'd sent Luna to bed immediately, then had to sit down. For two hours now, I had been sitting there while the healers helped the girl.
The door opened softly, and Rhys and his father stepped out. Rhys came over to me first.
"She only wants to see you," Rhys told me. I glanced up, but nodded.
When I got into her room, I was relieved to see that the healers had been able to mend most of her wounds.
But she was in tears. And her scent . . . I could scent the males on her. I couldn't help the fury that overtook me. They had tortured her for giving up her virginity, yet they'd used her anyway. Hypocritical assholes.
"Morrigan," I said, my voice breaking as I rushed over to her.
I got into the bed with her and she carefully welcomed my embrace, sobbing onto my shoulder. Though most of her wounds were healed, I was very gentle with her.
"I'm so sorry, Morrigan," I whispered, stroking her hair. "I'm so sorry."
"All I wanted was to choose who I gave myself to," she cried.
"I know, dulzura, I know," I comforted, pressing a kiss to her head. She was so young. Only seventeen. Seven years younger than I was.
"Raea, how will I get over this?" she sniffled.
"With time," I promised her. "It won't ever stop hurting, but it will get better. I promise you."
I had spent the last eight years living in comfort and happiness. No one had laid a violent hand on me. I'd had time to recover. But I could still feel those hands on me like it was yesterday. I was still plagued with nightmares every night. I still couldn't look at my body and think of it as mine. It was still his.
Iridessa and Morrigan were the only ones who knew what I had been through. Cassian had a vague idea of the conditions Luna was conceived in, but that was only because he was conceived in the same way. He'd guessed, and I'd confirmed that he was correct. I didn't tell him anything else.
Two years back, Mor's mother caught her kissing another female. Her father had beaten her viciously and she'd been sent to stay with us for a while.
I was the only one she confided in. The others didn't know why she'd gotten in so much trouble. She told me about all the abuse she'd suffered at the hands of her father. Since she'd confided in me, I'd confided in her. I'd told her of the abuse I had suffered.
"I thought they were going to kill me," she uttered. "And then I was bleeding, thinking I was going to die, and they . . ." She trailed off, breaking into sobs again.
She was confiding in me again. She was doing what I had wanted to do for my entire childhood. I'd tried confiding in my mother, and I'd only been shut down. All I'd wanted was for her to hold me.
And Morrigan's mother was just as distant and awful as mine was. I realized that I could be for her what I didn't have as a child. I could tell her all the things I had desperately needed to hear, but never did.
"You are so strong, Morrigan," I told her, tears welling up in my eyes. "You survived it, and I'm so proud of you. I promise I will not leave your side until you ask me to. I swear. I will be here every step of the way."