The price of a bargain
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The Night Court was quiet beneath the starry sky, the moon casting silver light over Velaris. High above, in the House of Wind, Rhysand stood on the balcony, his hands gripping the stone railing. He could feel her presence even before she spoke, as if his soul knew her touch, her scent, her very heartbeat.
“You’re brooding again,” Feyre teased, her voice soft as she stepped beside him, leaning her elbows on the railing.
Rhysand let out a low chuckle. “I don’t brood. I contemplate.”
Feyre raised a brow. “Contemplating the weight of the world again?”
Rhysand didn’t answer immediately, his violet eyes fixed on the sparkling city below. After a long pause, he turned to face her, his expression unreadable.
“I’ve been thinking about bargains,” he finally said, his voice a deep, velvety whisper that made her heart skip a beat.
Feyre tilted her head, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “You’re not regretting ours, are you?”
Their bargain—the tattooed promise that had bound them together long before they had even realized the depth of their feelings. It had been a simple deal on the surface, but beneath, it had tied their souls together in ways neither could have anticipated.
“No,” Rhysand said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “I don’t regret that. I could never regret that.” His gaze darkened, the amusement fading into something more serious. “But bargains are dangerous things, Feyre. And we’re about to make another.”
She frowned, her brow knitting as she studied his face. “Another?”
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Rhysand pulled away slightly, his wings rustling as he moved, tension radiating from every line of his body. He reached into his jacket and withdrew a small piece of parchment, handing it to her without a word.
Feyre took it, her fingers brushing his as she unfolded the paper. Her eyes scanned the text, her heart slowing as she understood. “Rhys…”
He took a step closer, his voice low. “We’re about to face a new enemy. One unlike anything we’ve seen. And they want something. Something only we can offer.”
The words on the paper were simple, but their meaning was heavy, a new alliance written in blood. A bargain made not with another court, but with something older, darker. Something ancient that required a steep price.
“They want me,” Feyre whispered, her voice barely audible.
Rhysand’s jaw tightened, his fists clenched at his sides. “No. I won’t allow it.”
Feyre shook her head, stepping closer to him, her hand pressing against his chest. “You can’t stop me, Rhys. You know we have no choice. If I don’t—”
“We will find another way,” he interrupted, his voice sharp. “I’m not trading you for this. I’m not making that bargain.”
She cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her, her blue-gray eyes soft but determined. “We’ve made worse bargains before. And we’ve survived. Together.”
Rhysand’s gaze was tormented, his emotions a storm of conflicting thoughts and feelings. His love for her warred with his fear, his desire to protect her battling against the reality of what had to be done. “I can’t lose you, Feyre. Not for this. Not for anything.”
“You won’t,” she whispered, leaning up to brush her lips against his. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Rhysand’s hands slid around her waist, pulling her against him, his forehead resting against hers. “And if the price is too high?” he asked, his voice raw. “What then?”
Feyre smiled, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Then we’ll bargain again. We’ll always find a way.”
A shadow passed over his face, but Rhysand nodded, though his grip on her tightened as if he couldn’t bear to let go. “A bargain, then,” he murmured, his voice husky.
She smiled up at him, her eyes glinting with mischief. “For every day I’m gone, you owe me a night in Velaris. Just the two of us.”
Rhysand’s lips curved into a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “And when you return, Feyre darling, I’ll owe you the stars.”
With a final kiss, Feyre stepped back, the warmth of his touch lingering on her skin. She turned, heading toward the darkness where the ancient being waited for her answer. Rhysand’s heart clenched as he watched her go, his every instinct screaming at him to stop her, to take her place, to shield her from the danger that awaited.
But Feyre had always been his equal in every way, his High Lady, the only one who could stand by his side through every storm.
The bargain had been made. The price agreed upon.
And now, they would face whatever darkness awaited them—together.
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.・゜゜・End.・゜゜・
