Chapter ☆ Five

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Rhysand's thrusts slowed as they each came down from their respective highs, but he still didn't want it to be over.

Feyre's breathing was deep, her chest heaving, as she took his face in her hands, and kissed him, gently, holding his gaze as she asked hoarsely, "What was that?"

Rhys stilled inside her so he could catch his breath without breaking the connection between them. It was by sheer will that he kept his eyes from sliding shut - he wanted to watch her. And she had his undivided attention, more so now than she usually did. A breathless chuckle escaped him, a smile curling his lips that didn't meet his eyes.

"If you didn't know what sex was by now, Feyre, then I don't think Tamlin was doing his job properly," he said, avoiding her gaze, suddenly finding the sheet just to the right of her shoulder fascinating.

Because he knew what she meant.

Feyre glared at him. "Rhysand..." she practically scolded.

She scooted herself up into a sitting position against the pillows on the headboard, her arms crossed against her naked bosom, and waited, watching him.

Rhys hissed as the cool air hit his cock; a consequence of Feyre actually crawling away from him. Yet another battle waged in Rhys' head, weighing the pros and cons of telling her.

But.. she deserved to know.

He had the sudden feeling as if a boulder had been dropped on him. His shoulders sagged and he loosed a long sigh. He brought his legs under him, slowly sitting back on his legs, his hands folded in his lap. He stole a quick glance up at her through his lashes, and resigned to tell her, regardless of how she took it.

"It's the mating bond," he said simply, quietly, still not looking at her.

Feyre blinked and sat straighter. Rhys watched her as she glared at him, her lips thinning as she slowly pieced it all together. "You knew."

A question and an answer.

"You've known this entire time."

He shouldn't have told her, he shouldn't have told her, he shouldn't have told her...

He felt her processing it over the bond and he almost regretted telling her.

But he couldn't bring himself to keep it any longer. She deserved to know. Even if she resented him for it. Even if she hated him...

He tried to shove the thought of her hating him again from his head but it lingered... he wouldn't be able to stomach it, not again. Seeing her look at him like she had...

Rhys took a deep breath. It caught in his chest, but his brow furrowed at her thoughts - the ones he could read not only through their bond, but across her face. The thoughts of her being unworthy of him. He looked up at her at that, opening his mouth to object, because he did object, and strongly.

He thought it was quite the opposite, really.

He might be the most powerful High Lord in Prythian's known history, but that didn't excuse what he'd done. What he'd done...

He had so much blood on his hands.

He'd manipulated, maimed... he was a menace.

He'd done it all to protect the people he cared about, but did that make it any less unforgivable?

He was the one who didn't deserve her. She'd been through so much, and had given so, so much. She'd given her life to save the man she loved, and his people. She was so clean, and precious, and good. And she was the light to Rhysand's darkness.

Her words brought him out of his thoughts and he held her gaze unflinchingly as he confirmed her suspicion. "Yes," he said, quietly, but unapologetically.

He'd guessed at it before he met her. But he'd known that day on the balcony. The day she was Made, and they all escaped from Under the Mountain.

He'd known, and he never told her.

After everything she'd done, everything they'd been through...

He watched her chest rise and fall as she held his stare, and she shook her head when she lowered her gaze.

He wanted to hold her as she brought her hands to her face, bu refrained. "You should have told me...".

Part of Rhys broke at those words. "I know.. I should have.. And I'm- I'm sorry.."

He rarely apologized, but he meant it. There were so many things he wanted to say but had no words for. His face contorted into a pained expression as he apprehensively reached out for her, and pulled her into his arms. Not because he would ever hesitate to hold her, to comfort her; but because he was unsure he she wanted to be touched by him. He kissed the top of her head as he stroked her hair. "You'd just been through so much and you're just getting back on your feet, and I felt it would be wrong to shove that kind of a burden on you.."

"That wasn't your choice to make!" she all but shouted at him, as she pushed away from his chest, kneeling back away from him as he could see the tears threaten to fall.

Rhysand's mask fell back into place so she wouldn't see everything he was feeling flash across his face as she scuttled away from him. Instead, his jaw clenched and his spine straightened. "What would you have done?" he asked seriously. "What would you have done if I told you that first time I came to make good on our bargain?"

And if the way she was reacting now was any indication, she would have hated him. Regardless of their bond- the mating bond... regardless of the fact that he had loved her before he knew her, before he had ever seen her face. Those flowers she had painted all those years ago had given him peace during a time where he had so little of it... those flowers flashed in his memory and he almost smiled, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not now.

He looked at her again instead, and he wanted to desperately stay; to comfort her, to explain himself further, but the anger- that anger in her eyes was enough to convince him not to. He blinked, took a steadying breath, then slowly stood from the bed.

He claimed his clothes from the floor and pulled his pants on before trudging to the door, not daring to look at her again. "You can sleep in here tonight. I'll take the couch downstairs," he said in a voice that was small and defeated, even to his own ears, and he cursed himself for it as he walked out into the bright hallway, closing the door behind him.

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