"Iona?"
Her back was still burning. But she lay facedown on wood in a dark room. She hissed, bearing the pain to turn her head to see who was speaking.
Her father.
Iona took a breath to speak, but she couldn't get any air in and moaned out the breath she already had. Any movement caused a searing pain along her wings. She couldn't take a big enough breath to speak, at least not yet. She squeezed her eyes shut, teeth bared warding off the hot stinging sensation.
Her father's wrinkled hand caressed her face. "Don't try to speak, wildflower, you don't have to."
Her lashes fluttered open as she pressed her cheek agaisnt her fathers hand as best she could. Her fathers eyes were deep and dark, a sadness she had only ever seen once before lingering there.
A tear fell down his cheek in a zig-zag, falling into the wrinkles around his nose and mouth.
"Your brother did this?"
Iona tried her best to nod.
"Oh, cauldron." Her father sobbed, his head falling into his free hand. Iona was crying, too.
He looked up at her, wiping his nose and pushing up his glasses. Iona couldn't tear her eyes away from the tear drops gathered there. Someone needed to wipe them off or her father would have trouble seeing.
"I am so sorry wildflower, I am so sorry." He ran his hand through her hair as he grasped her other hand in his.
She struggled to breath, needing to say it. "Not..." She gasped, " Not your fault."
"Shhh, baby, shhhh." He kissed the top of her head.
"I love you, Iona. More then there are flowers in the meadow." He whispered into her hair.
She gripped his hand, squeezing three times, trying to communicate in any way that wasn't painful.
I love you too, popop.
He pulled back, wiping her tears as they fell. Her father sniffled, taking a deep breath.
"You asked for Nesta?" He questioned, her small nod in return answer enough.
She needed to talk to Nesta.
"Her and Jaida are outside. Can they come in?" He nodded to the door.
Iona shook her head.
"Just Nesta?"
Iona shook her head.
"Just Jaida?"
Iona nodded.
"Okay, I'll be right back, wildflower."
__________________________________________
Nesta hated all of her fae senses, but right then she hated her sense of smell the most.
She could smell the blood. Heavy and metallic and hot. The herbs and medecines that the healers had used. She could smell it all.
Cassian stood beside her. They were just outside the little healers hut. Jaida had mentioned it on the tour, but Nesta didn't think she was serious when she said it was carved into the mountian. And yet, here they were, leaning against a literal mountian waiting for Jaida to come out.
Iona had asked to see Jaida first. Nesta couldn't hear anything from inside.
She wrapped her cloak further around herself.
The woman with the wingspan of three males now rendered wingless.
Cassian had told her what happened after Verra had taken her from the tents.
He had told her how he found in her brothers house and brought her to Verra. He had said how she was barely consious and lost obscene amounts of blood. Nesta knew he left out the finer details. She had hounded him about it, wanting to be prepared for what she was going to see.
He had only looked at her and told her to brace herself as much as she could.
Nesta didn't push to hard, though, to convince Cassian to tell her anything. She knew it was terrorifying for him to see this happen in his camp, to one of his own friends no less.
Nesta understood that speaking something out loud made it real. She understood if Cassian wasn't ready for it to be real yet.
So they stood in silence. Cassian was running his hand down his face, over the stubble that grew there. When her mind wandered to what that stubble would feel like under her lips, she pushed off from next to him and moved to stand infront of the door.
Jaida had been in there for what seemed like forever.
Still, neither of them spoke. This was not a moment for them.
Nesta hadn't known Iona for long, nor had she known Iona well, but she did know that Iona was made of gold in a world of coal and a spirit like hers was rare.
No one seemed to make it through Windhaven unbroken.
Both of thier attention snapped to the door as Jaida exited. The smell intensified as Jaida brought it out with her. The female- still in all white as usual- shut the door quickly behind her, not allowing Nesta to see anything inside.
Cassian crossed to Jaida in three steps as the female made a bee-line for Nesta.
"How is she doing?" He asked, Jaida looking to him with soft eyes.
The female rubbed the back of her neck. "She's better. Still not up for trying to sit up, but she is talking now and fully concious."
Jaida's eyes met Nestas. "She's asked for you."
Her mouth went dry. What did she want? Cassian had told Nesta how Iona had asked for her right before she passed out. What did that mean?
Nesta nodded. She walked toward the door, suddenly seeming far to close. Her hand wrapped around the knob. The smell was so strong.
Hating herself for it, Nesta turned and met Cassians eyes, a secret plea in her gaze.
Come with me.
He nodded. Stepping past Jaida and right by Nesta's side, Cassian put a gentle hand between her shoulder blades.
Together, they entered the room carved into the mountian.
______________________________________________________________
"If this is what these males get away with when I am not here, Devlon-"
"My lord-" Devlon stood before Rhys and Feyre, shaking like a dog.
Az stood to the right of the High Lord, the royalty perched on the chairs they had claimed as temporary thrones in the main hall.
His shadows swirled as he eyed the warlord. "Your High Lord was not finished speaking."
Lori watched from the High Lady's left as Devlon cast his eyes down. Pathetic.
The High Lord pinched the bridge of his nose, annoyance written on his face.
"Do I need to replace you with someone who is capable of controlling the soldiers, Devlon?"
The warlord stilled. A blatant threat to his position. Presented by a man at the top of the ladder. Devlon was furious, and if it was anyone else speaking to him, he would have attacked by now. Lori held back a smile. I wish you would, she thought.
The High Lady spoke at last. "You were asked a question."
Devlon met her eye, any fear dissapearing. "No." he simply replied.
Her Lady's head tilted. "No, what?"
The male before them tensed, furious. "No, my lady." He shifted his gaze to his high lord, the fear immideatly returning.
"We will find Terthal, My Lord." Devlon said, much less bravado then how he spoke to the High Lady.
The High Lord leaned foreward in his chair. "And he will be held accountable for his actions, Devlon."
The warlord nodded. "Yes, My Lord."
"Dismissed." The High Lady waved her hand. Lori smirked desipte herself.
Devlon turned and stormed out of the room like a child.
Lori turned to her High Lady. "Go better then you expected, My Lady?"
"Hardly. Completely unhelpful, arrogant, ignorant. It's like he doesn't want to help." She rubbed at her face, signing as her mate put a hand on her back.
He spoke to Az, "Keep everyone on alert, I want to know anyone who leaves camp. We need to find Terthal."
Az nodded. Lori spoke, mainly to the spymaster. "I'm going to see if I can't get anything else out of him."
"Good luck." The spymaster nodded to the door.
Lori exited the main hall, already tracking Devlon. He wasn't careful, his stomping leaving obvious tracks to follow. Lori stalked through camp, the trail leading her behind the tavern where there was a makeshift gambling area, with tables and chairs and a tarp to protect from the elements.
Lori stilled outside, hearing no voices and seeing no one approach. She slipped through the flap, hand on her knife.
Devlon sat on a stool, drink in hand. "What do you want."
Lori said cooly, "I want to know where Terthal is."
He cackled, a hash cound that hurt her ears. "Oh, really. How could I have guessed."
"You're protecting him from more then just what he did to Iona, Devlon."
Devlon finished his drink in one swig. "You don't know what you're talking about, sweets."
She didn't let his obvious dig sink in.
"Rosie. Sera. Katrin. Gloreia." His eyes darkened as they settled on hers.
He repeated, low and slow. "You. Do not. Know. What you are talking about."
Lori nodded. "Maybe I don't." She stalked behind the bar and grabbed Devlons empty glass as she spoke.
"Maybe I know nothing of the boys club you've created, of the 'goods and services' you've promised the soldiers." A bottle of clear liquid clinked against the rim of his cup as she poured him another drink.
"How you've delivered on that promise." She capped the bottle.
"You bitch-"
Devlon reached for his drink, pulling it back to himself, but once his hand firmly gripped it she wrapped her hand around the mug, pulling it and Devlon closer.
Face inches from his, she whispered, "How is your wife doing these days, Devlon?"
Anger, sadness, lonliness all flashed through his eyes at once.
Lori let go of the glass, sending him back on his ass in the stool. She walked back around the counter and leaning against it next to the warlord.
"Find Terthal. It's an easy request, considering you already know where he is. Bring him to the High Lady and Lord, and I might happen to forget about this encounter."
She pushed off the counter, walking to ward the flap to leave when Devlon spoke under his breath.
"Oh, you are a dangerous female aren't you?" He took a shaky sip from his glass.
Lori went deadly still. "Dangerous female?"
She faced the coward king, the male who she was supposed to respect.
"Devlon, every female is dangerous." She stalked toward him. "Every female you pass in this camp is dangerous. Every female you've hit is dangerous. Your wife is dangerous."
She took her knife out and stabbed it through his sleeve, trapping him under her gaze.
"Every female you've silenced with promises or money or your pitiful cock is a dangerous female, Devlon."
"I swear-"
She tilted the knife foreward, the blade digging into his skin. He hollared, his other hand reaching for the kinfe but she grabbed it and twisted it behind his back. He struggled against her.
"Every female- anyone- has the right to be dangerous when caged or herded or bred like animals."
She smiled in a way she knew made her look like a demon on the hunt.
"I will never-" She pushed the knife deeper, the smell of his blood tainting the air. "ever in this lifetime or the next forget about males like you. Males that make it not just necessary to be a dangerous female."
She let go of his arm and pulled the knife from the counter at the same time. He fell foreward, but she grabbed his chin, forcing him to face her.
"No, males like you make it fun."
She shoved him back and turned, hearing his stool crash to the ground. Devlon screamed curses after her, damning her to every Hel that existed.
Lori didn't hear him, though, and she wiped her knife clean of the swine's blood and continued walking.