The birth - ACOSF Feysand POV

Rhysand's Inner Turmoil

Rhysand

My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts as I flew home. I shouldn't have left. I should have been there the moment she woke up. How many times had I failed her? Disappointed her.

The Earth trembled underneath me when I landed in front of our house. The double doors of our home bursted open, pushed by my darkness.

I walked through the entrance, the painting of our family above the mantle only deepening the anxiety I felt. A picture perfect family. That's what Feyre had painted. Now, that family was going to be taken from me.

I rushed down the hall until I was met with Mor who had probably heard the doors slamming open. The way she stood in front of me, blocking me from my mate, brought out all of those primal instincts I usually did my best to shove down.

My cousin eyed me disapprovingly and I snapped.

"WHERE IS SHE?!"

Swirls of darkness rippled from my fingertips. Whatever candles were lit lost their flame.

"Upstairs. Your room. Majda is with her." Mor said with infuriating calmness, but the lines on her face showed her true emotions. "Cauldron, what the hell happened to you?!" My cousin picked out glass debris from my hair.

"How are you so calm right now?," I snapped, ignoring her question.

"Well, one of us has to be!" I thought I saw her raise her hand to slap me, but before she did, she fisted it and let it fall to her side.

"Get out of my way, Mor."

"Rhys-"

"Move." I growled, feeling the darkness wrap around me.

"Not until you calm the fuck down! You can't go see her like this. Do you want to scare her?" Mor nearly yelled back at me. "Get your shit together and be there for your mate!"

I ran my hands through my already messy hair. I was exhausted. Adrenaline pumping through me. All the sleepless nights, the worry, the research, all of it for nothing.

Early labour. The irony.

I didn't know whether to laugh or to weep. The world seemed to love being cruel to us.

Though I'd never admit it to her, Mor was right. I couldn't face Feyre like this. Desperately, I searched for something I could break. Something I could destroy to let off steam. But I didn't. My cousin took my hands, squeezing them lightly.

"We still have time," She whispered. Mor must have used her healing abilities on me, because my heart rate began to calm and my senses were heightened.

Seeing the shift in my attitude, my cousin finally stepped aside, granting me permission to see my mate.

"Thank you," I whispered tiredly.

As I made my way up the stairs, I heard Mor say, "We won't lose you again, cousin."

Tears stung my eyes, but none of that mattered when I heard my mate calling for me. She must have sensed me nearby or heard our voices in the hallway.

"Rhys?" There was so much hope in that single word.

You put too much faith in me, my love.

I had to face my mate and tell her that I found nothing. I had to look her in the eye and practically tell her she was about to die. What good was an immortal life when something so ordinary could end it.

The scent of roses she had carried for months was no longer there. It had left like a wilting flower. 

It was replaced by the smell of... death.

Too young. Still so young.

I had lived longer than I deserved, but Feyre... My Feyre, had barely seen the world, barely touched the surface of her abilities.

I tucked in my wings and for the first time in my 500 years of existence, I hated them. They were a reminder of why Feyre was in danger. Running my hand through my disheveled hair, I took a breath and opened the door. She laid there pale faced and weak. It was worse than any nightmare, because there was no waking up from this.

My knees betrayed me as I got a good look at her. My heart sank into the depths of my stomach. All I wanted was to fall on the floor and beg whatever gods were out there. Instead, I smirked up at my mate and said, "Hello Feyre, darling. Miss me?"