A Court of Mist and Fury (A Court of Thorns and Roses, #2)

by Sarah J. Maas

“I’m coming along whether you want me to or not.” “No, you aren’t.” He strode right through the door, his claws slashing the air at his sides, and was halfway down the steps before I reached the threshold.

Where I slammed into an invisible wall.

Lucien remained at the foot of the stairs, his face so, so pale. “Tamlin,” I said again, pushing against the wall. He didn’t turn.

He’d locked me in. He’d sealed me inside this house.

Breathing became difficult.

was trapped. I was trapped inside this house. I might as well have been Under the Mountain; I might as well have been inside that cell again—

He’d trapped me; he’d trapped me; he’d trapped me— I had to get out, because I’d barely escaped from another prison once before, and this time, this time—

But I was ensconced in a cocoon of darkness and fire and ice and wind, a cocoon that melted the ring off my finger until the golden ore dripped away into the void, the emerald tumbling after it. I wrapped that raging force around myself as if it could keep the walls from crushing me entirely, and maybe, maybe buy me the tiniest sip of air—

“Please—please take care of her.” Alis. From right by my ear, the other replied, “Consider yourselves very, very lucky that your High Lord was not here when we arrived. Your guards will have one hell of a headache when they wake up, but they’re alive. Be grateful.” Mor.

“Did you think his shield would keep us from you? Rhys shattered it with half a thought.”

“I did everything by the book,” Mor said to the owner of that growl.

Until Rhysand said, “Then we’re done here.”

And Rhysand lounging in an armchair across from the couch where I was sprawled, gazing at the mountains, his face uncharacteristically solemn. I swallowed, and his head whipped toward me. No kindness in his eyes. Nothing but unending, icy rage. But he blinked, and it was gone. Replaced by perhaps relief. Exhaustion.

“What happened?” I said. My voice was hoarse. As if I’d been screaming. “You were screaming,”

“Did I hurt any—” “No. Whatever you did, it was contained to you.”

“You weren’t—” “By law and protocol,” he said, stretching out his long legs, “things would have become very complicated and very messy if I had been the one to walk into that house and take you. Smashing that shield was fine, but Mor had to go in on her own two feet,

render the sentries unconscious through her own power, and carry you over the border to another court before I could bring you here. Or else Tamlin would have free rein to march his forces into my lands to reclaim you. And as I have no in...

“As your presence here isn’t part of our monthly requirement, you are under no obligation to go back.” He rubbed at his temple. “Unless you wish to.”

“He locked me in that house,” I managed to say.

“I know. I felt you. Even with your shields up— for once.”

“I have nowhere else to go.” It was both a question and a plea.

“Stay here for however long you want. Stay here forever, if you feel like it.” “I—I need to go back at some point...

“Work for me,” Rhysand said. “I owe you, anyway. And we’ll figure out the rest day by day, if need be.”

the manor apart. But he’d … he’d locked me up. Either he so deeply misunderstood me or he’d been so broken by what went on Under the Mountain, but … he’d locked me up.

“I’m not going back.” The words rang in me like a death knell. “Not—not until I figure things out.”

“And as for the gifts you got from everyone else … That’s for you to find out, I suppose.” “I should have known your goodwill would wear off after a minute.”

“Take me with you.” Rhys halted as he pushed through two purple gossamer curtains. And slowly, he turned back. “You should rest.”

“Wherever you’re going, whatever you’re doing—take me along. I’ll stay out of trouble. Just … Please.”

For a long moment, Rhys said nothing. Then he prowled toward me, his long stride eating up the distance and his face set like stone.

“If you come with me, there is no going back. You will not be allowed to speak of what you see to anyone outside of my court. Because if you do, people will die—my people will die. So if you come, you will have to lie about it forever; if you return to the Spring Court, you cannot tell anyone there what you see, and who you meet, and what you will witness. If you would rather not have that between you and—your friends, then stay here.”

“Where are we going?” Rhys’s smile widened into a grin. “To Velaris—the City of Starlight.”

This house … this house was a home that had been lived in and enjoyed and cherished. And it was in a city.

“Welcome to my home,” Rhysand said.

Rhys didn’t so much as blink toward the door. “Two things, Feyre darling.”

Decided that, perhaps, the Spring Court might not be my home.

Trust me, there’s no party. Only a massacre, if Cassian doesn’t shut his mouth.”

Cassian??

Maybe Amarantha had won after all. And some strange, new part of me wondered if my never returning might be a fitting punishment for him. For what he had done to me. Sleep claimed me, swift and brutal and deep.

“For what it’s worth, I’m the most powerful High Lord in Prythian’s history, and merely interrupting Amren is something I’ve only done once in the past century.”

Maybe it’d be a mercy to be ended— A broad hand gripped my face—gently enough not to hurt, but hard enough to make me look at him. “Don’t you ever think that,” Rhysand hissed, his eyes livid. “Not for one damned moment.”

“The wind will rip the gown right off.” His grin became feline.

“You mean,” I said, because it might have been the only weapon in my arsenal, “that this town house is too small, and their personalities are too big, and you’re worried I might lose it again.”

“I didn’t know you even had friends.” Yes—anger, sharpness … It felt good. Better than feeling nothing. A cold smile. “You didn’t ask.”

Rhysand was close enough now that he slid a hand around my waist, both of his wings encircling me. My spine locked up. A cage— The wings swept back.

“You say the word tonight, and we come back here, no questions asked. And if you can’t stomach working with me, with them, then no questions asked on that, either. We can find some other way for you to live here, be fulfilled, regardless of what I need. It’s your choice, Feyre.”

but I said, “I’m thinking that I must have been a fool in love to allow myself to be shown so little of the Spring Court. I’m thinking there’s a great deal of that territory I was never allowed to see or hear about and maybe I would have lived in ignorance forever like some pet. I’m thinking … ” The words became choked. I shook my head as if I could clear the remaining ones away. But I still spoke them. “I’m thinking that I was a lonely, hopeless person, and I might have fallen in love with the first thing that showed me a hint of kindness and safety. And I’m thinking maybe he knew that—maybe not actively, but maybe he wanted to be that person for someone. And maybe that worked for who I was before. Maybe it doesn’t work for who—what I am now.”

“Az’s father sent him to our camp for training once he and his charming wife realized he was a shadowsinger.”

Especially one in particular, who took a look at me, and beat me into a bloody mess.” “You were so clean,” Cassian said, shaking his head. “The pretty half-breed son of the High Lord—how fancy you were in your new training clothes.”

“And you were friends after that?” “No—Cauldron no,” Rhysand said. “We hated each other, and only behaved because if one of us got into trouble or provoked the other, then neither of us ate that night. My mother started tutoring Cassian, but it wasn’t until Azriel arrived a year later that we decided to be allies.”

This is so cute

Especially as we reached the age of maturity, and all we wanted to do was fuck and fight.”

“And what is this court?” I asked, gesturing to them. The most important question. It was Cassian, eyes clear and bright as his Siphon, who said, “The Court of Dreams.”