The North Star

4

Ever since I was a child, I could vividly remember my dreams, like I was actually living through them.

When my father discovered I had daemati powers, and used me to torture other people, that's when the nightmares began.

The last 250 years I had been presumed dead, and trapped in the mirror realm. I was barely alive, only through spirit then.

I guess after so long, everything came rushed back.

I dreamed of my father, and all the training he put me through to fit his mold and future plans for me. I dreamed of my mother's screamed, as they slowly cut off her wings. I thought of Rhysand, and how he cruel he became at the Illyrian war camps and at Hewn City, but he was himself in Velaris.

I dreamed of Mor, of Cassian, of Az, of Amren being tortured by the Spring Court.

I dreamt that I was alone.

I woke up in a fit of panic, falling out of bed, when arms caught me midair.

It was Rhysand.

He scooped me up, and placed me back on the bed. "Rina, you're safe. You're in Velaris. You're home."

Tears trickles from my eyes as I struggled to control my breathing. Home. I was home.

And my brother was taking care of my like a nursing maid, instead of telling me to suck it up like my father would've.

I finally calmed down my breathing, and slowly nodded to acknowledge him. "You should be with your mate."

I didn't know how to interact with him, after being gone for so long and his new standing of power.

But now, he looked tired and weary, like he had been up all night. Rhys ignored my concerns and promptings, "Do you remember yesterday?"

I nodded. I said in a small voice, "Two-hundred and fifty-seven years."

If he didn't look pathetic enough, Rhysand looked even worse. "Carina, I am so sorry. If I knew you were alive, I would've torn through Prythian to find you."

I knew he would've. There's nothing Rhys wouldn't do for his chosen family.

"It's not your fault. There was no way you could've known," I comfort him. That was a fact neither of us could've changed about the past.

"No, I should've known.  I should've known when the Spring Court—" he suddenly stops, catching himself.

"What did the Spring Court do?" I demanded, sitting upright in my bed.

"They sent mother's head in a both to Hewn City, but not yours. We hadn't heard from you or her in a day, and we got our answer. Father and I went to the Spring Court, and killed Tamlin's father and brothers. Tamlin killed Father. Tamlin... he burnt your wings because he felt so guilty for what his family had done."

"For what he had done." I told Rhysand. "He was there when mother and I—"

Rhysand's nostrils flared. "I knew he lied about it. I have enough on the ancient laws of Prythian and of the Blood Laws to go there and kill him. But he's a High Lord and the last of the Spring Court. I can't let it fall, he's too close to the human lands."

I nodded, promising him, "One day, we'll get the justice we deserve."

Rhys takes his face in his hands, "We're halfway there, if I'm being honest. He's gone mad."

That didn't sound like the Tamlin that Rhysand befriended, but I knew that the Spring Court always had an ulterior motive.

Times have changed.