Chapter Text
Despite so many years of practice, my focus was completely unattainable today. Perhaps my mind was wandering back to the way that my hands felt razing over the soft skin of Feyre’s swelling belly and sensitive breasts. Even more likely, my focus was spent on the almost involuntary animalistic desire to be close enough to touch her at all times. Although, touch her may be too much of an understatement. The feeling is more akin to, be near enough to throw my body between her and any danger. She and I both know how fruitless that may prove to be though. I looked down at my left arm - twin to that of my mate’s. The swirling black ink a forever reminder that the moment I draw my last breath and go to… wherever I go, she will be right behind me.
Admittedly, that thought had become far more sobering since the development of this additional bond between us. It seemed that no matter how tense a moment got, as they had the tendency to do as of late in my meetings with Azriel, or how frightened I found myself at the prospect of losing my mate to anything, the image of that hauntingly beautiful raven-haired boy that Feyre had shared with me, always made my heart just a little bit lighter. I still could not figure out, why the Bone Carver had presented himself as our son to Feyre, while he had appeared to me as my worst nightmare. But, Feyre had certainly always been special, and maybe he saw that too.
“What do you think?” Feyre asked, her serious voice slicing through every thought in my mind. I found her inked fingers wrapped around my wrist and met her eyes quickly. I fought to appear as though I were thoughtful, and not completely unaware of the conversation occurring around me; I had failed.
“Brother, are you even listening to me? I don’t see how we will convince her to scry again after that nightmare,” Cassian repeated. His eyes seemed dark, deeper than normal, beyond the black eye I had given him in the training ring just an hour before. I could scent his worry and admiration for Nesta. Beyond that, I’d smelled the overwhelming stench of sex when I’d dropped Gwyn off for training just days before. Feyre wore a matching expression of concern, although I knew of her complicated feelings for her sister.
“It is the best path forward. Amren said that she had a week to decide - there’s still a few days. Stay the course,” I replied. My voice came out far steadier than I had anticipated. It was met by a short nod of agreement from my mate, the mother of my child, and a surly groan from Cassian. I licked my lips and raised an eyebrow, as though to question the dissent.
“You’re uncharacteristically obstinate lately,” he huffed as he placed his hands on the table and stood in one quick, and loud, motion. Feyre flinched at the sound of chair legs scraping on the tiled floor. Whether it was because it was loud, or because she and Ressina had just finished the dining room, I could not tell. I saw Cassian to the door, managing a modicum more civility.
“Shall I winnow you back to The House of Wind?” I asked, my voice measured, but more pleasant than before. My distance from Feyre clearing my mind, as though the intoxicating scent of her scrambled my senses.
“I think I’ll fly tonight. I need to clear my mind,” he responded, placing a hand on my arm as though to quell my budding concerns for him. “Just a long day.”
I nodded, stepping back and picking at a loose thread on my shirt. I found that my body remained at the threshold, as he stepped onto the street and lifted into the sky effortless on his large, black wings. A shallow breath left my lips as I leaned on the door frame, my legs crossed, in the way that came so naturally to me - in the way that I noticed could illicit a physical response from my mate. Thank the cauldron for my brother offering distraction after this afternoon. I knew my body was healing from our sparring, but I could still feel the ache and bruises on my abdomen and arms. Just then, as though conjured by my thought of her, Feyra wrapped her arms around my waist, resting her head in the middle of my back.
“That could have gone worse.” I felt the vibration of each word into my skin. I felt her arms resting on my hip bones, and I felt my mental fortitude falter momentarily, as the mental shield I had so carefully constructed around her tugged at my power. I spun around, placed a hand at her waist and one on her jaw, and subtly tilted it ever so slightly to my gaze.
“I think we should go to the cabin. I’ve asked Nuala and Cerridwen to pull out something for you to wear,” I told her, briefly using my daemati power to send the command to the sisters. Feyra’s lips twitched, as though to say, why can’t I wear what I have on? In response, I brushed a light hand against the adamant her mind; she obliged to allowing me in. I watched her face, as I sent the image of her in the black dress she’d worn to the Hewn City the first time. I allowed my eyes to darken and savored watching her jaw as it went slack and she let out an indignant sigh.
I doubt that even your shield could prevent others from seeing my condition in a dress like that, Rhys, she chided. I swallowed heavily, as I imagined her in that dress while in this condition. She noticed. A self-satisfied smile danced on her lips, as she sent me her own image down the bond. I balked.
She stood before a mirror, gold framed - the one in our bedroom in the River House - this house. Her tousled hair was slung over her shoulder, the ends wet. The rest of her tanned skin, also slightly damp from the bath, glistening in the candlelight of the room. Her slender inked fingers traced along her collarbone, down the side of her plump breasts, over the taut skin of her barely discernible bump. Her fingers skipped over the dark bruise on her hip, left behind from our activities that evening. And slowly, painfully slowly, her long fingers dipped between her legs and —
Before I even noticed how my mouth had gone dry, she pulled her mental shields back up around me, tsking her tongue at how easily I had been distracted.
“I’ll go get changed then,” she said, as she took a step back, a devilish grin on her lips. I quickly slid my loose hand around the back of her neck, tightening my grip as I tipped her head back, and quickly closed the space between our bodies. Already, her eyes were closed and lips parted to taste mine. I kissed her, my mouth fervently pressing against hers, my tongue tracing along her ample bottom lip. I used every strand of self-restraint I had left to stop myself and quickly spin her. I gave her a hearty tap on the backside, as I thought hurry up, Darling.