𝐂 𝐎 𝐒 𝐌 𝐈 𝐂   𝐋 𝐎 𝐕 𝐄   !

𝙲 𝙷 𝙰 𝙿 𝚃 𝙴 𝚁   𝙽 𝙸 𝙽 𝙴 𝚃 𝙴 𝙴 𝙽   !

( 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔨 ! )

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

          𝐀𝐍𝐀'𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌. She didn't even have to look to know that it was Rhys who had pushed her up against the doors, his hands on her shoulders and his violet eyes storming. Enchanting darkness swirled around them, and within it, Ana could swear she saw the outline of a beautiful pair of bat-like wings stretching from his back. Wings that looked oh so familiar . . .

"What did you promise her?" he asked, both concern and anger woven into his words. "Ana, darling, what did you promise her?"

Ana squared her shoulders and met his eyes. "Nothing of your concern."

She tried to walk away, but his grip was like steel. He pressed her harder into the wood of the doors, his chest heaving against her own. His hands moved from her shoulders to her cheeks, eyes softening. "Ana, darling, please. What did you promise her?"

Ana didn't know why she told him. It could've been the fact that he was practically begging her for the truth. Or maybe it was the pleading look in his eyes as he met her own hard gaze. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the warmth of their bargain along her back, spreading comfort throughout her, that had her wanting to confide in someone. Confide in someone who knew what it was like to give themselves in place of the people they loved.

"Myself." Her voice was a whisper. Such a contrast from the dangerous tone she'd used just moments ago. But the shame and fear she felt boiling within her had her unable to speak any louder. For years, she'd fought against the PTSD caused by Viktor. And now, to protect someone she viewed as a sister, she was throwing all of that away. But it was the only way. "I promised her myself."

Heartbreak shone in his eyes. "Oh, my darling."

He pulled her into a hug, and for the first time since arriving in this hell, Ana allowed herself to break. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she clutched tightly to his shirt, her sobs muffled by his clothing. Rhys held tightly to her, as if letting go for even a second would cause her to vanish into dust. He pressed kisses to her hairline and rubbed her back soothingly, right along both the bargain and Parabatai markings. 

"It was the only way," she managed. "But . . . but I . . . Rhys, I don't think I can . . . every other night . . . no rules or anything . . . whatever she wants . . . and she knows all about what . . . did to me and . . . use it against me . . . the pain . . . can't do it . . . can't . . . can't . . . can't . . ."

She was hyperventilating. A panic attack, she was sure of it. The familiar pounding in her head and weight on her chest was enough to tell her that. Her hands shook as she tried to breathe, but she couldn't. It was like someone had a hand around her throat and was slowly tightening it until her airways were closed off and her lungs were shriveled lumps. 

Rhys, noticing her problem, pulled out of the hug and took her face in his hands once more. "Hey, hey, hey. Look at me. Look in my eyes." Ana shakily did as he said, her teary eyes meeting his own. "Breathe, Ana darling. Breathe with me. In . . . and . . . out." He removed a hand from her face, just to take her own and place it over his beating heart. "Follow me. In . . . and . . . out."

Ana's eyes remained locked on his own as she felt the steady beating of his heart beneath her shaking fingers. Slowly⎯so painfully slowly⎯her breathing began to match his. In . . . and . . . out. Inhale. Exhale. He never once looked away from her, his thumb brushing over her cheek in soft circles as he held her other hand tightly. He was there. He was real. And he was bringing her back.

When she was breathing normally again, he pulled her into another hug. "I've got you. I've got you."

Ana relaxed in his hold, allowing her body to slump. He had her. He had her and he always would. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯

Ana found herself standing in the throne room once more. She assumed that it had only been a day since Feyre's arrival to the cursed mountain court, meaning that night would start her bargain with Amarantha. The golden tendrils of power thrummed within her body, as if sensing her growing fear for the events that would occur that night. Torture. She was putting herself through endless torture for her sister not by blood, but by choice. 

And maybe that was Ana's fatal flaw? She'd do anything for the people she viewed as family. She'd lay her life down for them, put herself through years of trauma, undo her progress, all to make sure they were unharmed and okay. It wasn't healthy, that much was clear, but after losing so many people she cared about, Ana didn't care. Anything to ensure the safety of her friends and family.

The blonde stood to the left of the dais, able to see the entirety of the throne room⎯including Clare's beaten and bruised body. Feyre was before the self-proclaimed queen, everyone awaiting the riddle that would make or break the future of Prythian if Feyre could not go through all three challenges. Ana held her breath in anticipation. Even if it would be against the bargain to aid Feyre in any way, she still wanted to hear every part of the riddle as clearly as she could. 

A crowd of faeries stood along the far wall. Over their heads, Ana could see one of the few doorways that led out of the throne room. It was a door she had yet to come through. Everyone was clad in rich, colorful clothing⎯all of them seeming clean and fed. Dispersed among them were faeries with masks. The Spring Court.

Amarantha was dressed in a gown of rubies, the color drawing attention to her bloodred lips that were stretched into a serpentine smile. 

The Faerie Queen clicked her tongue. "You look positively dreadful." She turned to Tamlin, still at her side. His expression remained distant. "Wouldn't you say she's taken a turn for the worse?"

He didn't reply; he didn't even meet Feyre's gaze. Ana had to dig her nails into her palms to keep from spitting venomous words at the High Lord. How could he just sit there? It made no sense. 

"You know," Amarantha mused, leaning against an arm of her throne, "I couldn't sleep last thing, and I realized why this morning." She ran an eye over Feyre. "I don't know your name. If you and I are going to be such close friends for the next three months, I should know your name, shouldn't I?"

Feyre met Ana's eyes, and the blonde imperceptibly shook her head. No. Don't freely give your name, her eyes screamed. Names held power. A demon's true name could control them. A Shadowhunter's family name could reveal so much about their bloodline. Names were powerful, even in the world of fae and monsters.

When Feyre did not reply, Amarantha frowned. "Come, now, pet. You know my name⎯isn't it fair that I know yours?" There was movement through the crowd, and Ana's eyes flickered to the Attor that was slowly creeping toward Feyre. She allowed her irises to flicker gold, and the monster hesitated. "After all"⎯Amarantha waved an elegant had to the space behind her, the crystal casing around Jurian's eye catching the light⎯"you've already learned the consequences of giving false names."

Feyre remained silent. Ana felt pride swell within her chest at her friend's strength. 

"Rhysand," Amarantha said⎯not needing to raise her voice to summon him. Ana stiffened slightly, her eyes locking on the dark figure making its way through the crowd. They came to a stop beside Feyre, heir violet gaze remaining on Amarantha. But Ana could feel him in her mind⎯a constant soft kiss of darkness swirling within her. 

The High Lord of the Night Court bowed at the waist, and Ana grit her teeth. Night rippled from him, thrumming with power and excitement. The most powerful High Lord in the history of Prythian, bowing to the general of Hybern. It was the dumbest thing Ana had ever seen, and she would make sure Amarantha knew that when the bitch was on her deathbed. 

Amarantha lifted her brows. "Is this the girl you saw at Tamlin's estate?"

He brushed some invisible lint from his black tunic before he surveyed Feyre. His violet eyes held boredom. "I suppose."

"But did you or did you not tell me that girl," Amarantha said, her tone sharpening as she pointed to Clare, "was the one you saw?"

He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Humans all look alike to me."

Amarantha gave him a saccharine smile. "And what about faeries?"

Rhysand bowed again⎯so smooth it looked like a dance. "Among a sea of mundane faces, yours is a work of art."

Ana had to bite back a snort. Really? Taking it a little over the top, aren't we? If you keep up with the dramatics, I'm going to sign you up for drama classes once we are free.

You do such, and you'll see just how dramatic I can be, Ana darling. His tone was filled with humor. Enough to make the corners of Ana's lips flicker upwards in a gentle, nearly imperceptible, smile. 

"What's her name?" Amarantha demanded.

"How would I know? She lied to me." Ana had to admit that watching Rhys toy with Amarantha was almost as enjoyable as watching her favorite TV series. 

Feyre tensed, as if anticipating the powers of the Night Court. Those beautiful abilities that allowed someone to slip into the mind of another. Abilities that Rhys had used against her once to scare Tamlin into sending her home. Because Rhys had wanted to protect her. For Ana.

"If you're inclined to play games, girl, then I suppose we can do this the fun way," Amarantha said. She snapped her fingers at the Attor, who reached into the crowd and grabbed someone. Red hair glinted, and Ana caught her breath. The Attor yanked Lucien forward by the collar of his green tunic. By the Angel. 

Ana may be angry with the son of Autumn, but like hell she wanted to see a former friend tortured. 

Lucien thrashed against the Attor but couldn't do anything against those needlelike nails as it forced him to his knees. The Attor smiled, releasing his tunic, but kept close.

Amarantha flicked her finger in Rhysand's direction. The High Lord lifted a groomed brow. If the situation was any different, Ana would've probably blushed. "Hold his mind," she commanded.

Lucien went utterly still, sweat gleaming on his neck as Rhysand bowed his head to the queen and faced him. 

Behind them, pressing to the front of the crowd, came four tall, red-haired High Fae. Toned and muscled, some of them looking like warriors about to set foot on the battlefield, some like pretty courtiers, they all stared at Lucien⎯and grinned. The four remaining sons of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.

Ana allowed a small tendril of power to slither from her clenched fists in the direction of the brothers. It broke apart into four whip-like strands that hit each brother like a dart. They jolted, eyes locking with the golden gaze of Ana. The blonde only gave them an innocent smile laced with venom. If they wanted to be dicks, she could do so right back. 

No one messed with those she considered to be a friend. Even if said friend was on thin ice and deserved to be shot fifty-thousand times in the back for how they treated her. 

Another fatal flaw? She had trouble letting go of toxic people. 

Losing too many friends tended to do that to someone.

"Her name, Emissary?" Amarantha asked of Lucien. But Lucien only glanced at Tamlin before closing his eyes and squaring his shoulders. Rhys began smiling faintly, but Ana could read the sadness hidden deep within his eyes. 

Lucien's brothers lurked on the edges of the crowd⎯no remorse, no fear on their faces. 

Amarantha sighed. "I thought you would have learned your lesson, Lucien. Though this time your silence will damn you as much as your tongue." Lucien kept his eyes shut. Ready⎯he was ready for Rhys to wipe out everything he was, to turn his mind, his self, into dust.

"Her name?" she asked Tamlin, who didn't reply. His eyes were fixed on Lucien's brothers, as if marking who was smiling the broadest. And Ana could've sworn she saw a small flicker of excitement pass through his emerald eyes. 

What . . .

Amarantha ran a nail down the arm of her throne. "I don't suppose your handsome brothers know, Lucien," she purred.

"If we did, Lady, we would be the first to tell you," said the tallest. He was lean, well dressed, every inch of him a court-trained bastard. Probably the eldest, too, given the way even the ones who looked like born warriors stared at him with deference and calculation⎯and fear. Eris. He was Eris, she was sure of it.

Amarantha gave him a considering smile and lifted her hand. Rhys cocked his head, his eyes narrowing slightly on Lucien.

Sorry. The words were a whisper in Ana's mind, soft and gentle and full of remorse.

Ana only sent a comforting smile through the bond between them. It would be okay. She had to believe it would be okay.

Lucien stiffened. A groan slipped from his lips, and⎯

"Feyre!" Feyre shouted. "My name is Feyre."

Ana loosed a breath. Of disappointment or relief, she didn't know. Amarantha nodded and Rhys stepped back. He hadn't even removed his hands from his pockets.

Lucien sagged on the ground, trembling. His brothers frowned⎯Eris going so far as to bare his teeth at Feyre in a silent snarl. She ignored him, but Ana did not. The fae-angel hybrid sent another strand of power at the male, stabbing into him once more. Another warning to keep in line.

"Feyre," Amarantha said, testing the name, the taste of the two syllables on her tongue. "An old name⎯from our earlier dialects. Well, Feyre," she said. "I promised you a riddle."

Ana stiffened. 

"Solve this, Feyre, and you and your High Lord, and all his court, may immediately leave with my blessing. Let's see if you are indeed clever enough to deserve one of our kind." Her dark eyes shone with excitement. Cruel, sadistic excitement. Like a tiger cornering its prey, readying to strike.

There are those who seek me a lifetime but never we meet,
And those I kiss but who trample me beneath ungrateful feet.

At times I seem to favor the clever and the fair,
But I bless all those who are brave enough to dare.

By large, my ministrations are soft-handed and sweet,
But scorned, I become a difficult beast to defeat.

For though each of my strikes lands a powerful blow,
When I kill, I do it slow . . .

Ana didn't even hear the repetition of the riddle, her mind racing. The answer was there, right in front of her, and she could do nothing to help. Love. 

How petty could a female be to make the answer love? To give Feyre a riddle about love while she proves her love for someone? It was a level of pettiness that Ana didn't know whether to be in awe of or to be jealous of. 

A ripple of laughter spread over those assembled behind Feyre, the loudest from Lucien's brothers. Their laughter was silenced, however, as a golden pulse of light came from Ana's clenched hands. 

Settle, my darling, Rhys purred in her mind. Conserve your strength. You'll need it.

And she would. For whatever tortures Amarantha had in store for her that night. 

Feyre's face was filled with concentration⎯her brows creased, her lips pursed, her eyes swimming. It was then Ana realized just how hard this would be for Feyre. She only had a few weeks of reading lessons from Ana to get her through all of this. And while the blonde was confident in her friend, she wasn't so sure Feyre herself was confident. 

"Think on it," Amarantha said consolingly, and flicked a grin down at her ring⎯at the eye swiveling within. "When it comes to you, I'll be waiting."

Feyre gazed at Tamlin even as she was pulled away to the dungeons. 

He only remained staring at the walls.

Amarantha turned to Ana, giving her a wicked smile. "Now, halfling, it is time to hold up your end of the bargain. Let your screams be the songs that these fae dance to tonight."

Ana squared her shoulders and set her jaw in defiance. She didn't let her emotions show in her eyes as she followed the guards toward her utter doom. She didn't let the cheers of those behind her shake her. She could get through this. She knew she could.

She had to.

⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯

Ana darling. Open your eyes. Open your beautiful eyes.

The blonde groaned as she allowed her eyelids to flicker open. Rhysand crouched before her, his violet eyes filled to the brim with concern. She was back in her dingy cell, every muscle and tendon and vein in her body aching. She was covered with fast-healing bruises and scratches from the hours of torture she'd been put through.

Amarantha wanted to know just how fast a faerie-angel hybrid's healing was. So, the master tormentors spent hours beating Ana⎯draining her of blood, breaking bones, bruising skin, leaving cuts and burns and gashes along her body until she was sure she would die. But she never did. The power within her⎯a mix of High Fae and Angel⎯kept her breathing. Kept her living.

Rhys's one hand was pressed to her cheek, his warmth bringing her from her memories. Her throat was scratchy and dry from hours of screaming. "Oh, what has she done to you."

Ana managed to lift her arm so she could hold his hand to her cheek. She gave him a gentle smile. "I'll be okay," she rasped. "It will hurt for a bit, but I'll be okay."

"I want to be mad at you for making this bargain, but I can't." He ran his thumb along her cheekbone. "I would do the same for those I love. I am doing the same."

"And if you can hold on for nearly fifty years, I can hold on for three months." She met his eyes. "Feyre is the only chance Prythian has until I figure out everything. I have to do everything to make sure she survives."

Rhys sighed and removed his hand from her cheek, only to thread his fingers with hers. He pressed a kiss to her healing knuckles. "This world doesn't deserve you." She went to argue, but he cut her off. "Feyre's trial starts soon. I was sent to come get you and bring you. Amarantha believes I can keep you from helping her."

As if I could ever stop you from helping someone, he added in her mind.

If Ana were not in excruciating pain, she would have hit him. Shut up and help me stand.

Rhys chuckled softly and stood, pulling her to her feet by their joined hands. He kissed her knuckles once more before releasing her hand and moving to hold her by her upper arms. He towered over her, but she didn't feel small. She felt protected, but not in an overbearing way. In the same way she did when with Alec or Magnus or Jace⎯safe, but if things were to go to shit, she wouldn't be put on the sidelines of the fight.

His lips brushed her ear and a shiver ran down her spine⎯down the tattoo that intertwined oh so beautifully with her Parabatai rune. "I'll be right here if you need someone to yell at during the trial."

Ana only nodded and the two started for the arena, where the first task would be held.

The walk was short, and as per usual, Ana studied the path. The loud shouts of the crowd her enough to tell her where to go, even if Rhys hadn't been leading her. 

The two slipped silently into the arena, taking their place by the edge of a massive pit. Amarantha only spared them a wicked smile before continuing to drink from her goblet. 

Ana took the time to study the arena. It was a large, torch-lit cavern that had to be man-made with how smooth the walls were. The floor was slick and muddy, nearly causing Ana to slip once or twice as she turned in her spot. 

Her eyes fell to the pit before her, and she wondered what type of creature lurked within it. What type of horrors did Amarantha have in store for the first task? It had to be big, with how enormous the pit was. A maze of mud and what appeared to be shit, standing tall with sharp turns and dips and trenches. Nothing good would come of this.

Other males stood along the edges of the pit. It didn't take much looking for Ana to realize who they were⎯the High Lords of Prythian. They all shot looks in Ana's direction, some of surprise, some of curiosity, and some of hatred (Beron). Ana ignored them and turned her attention to the doors. The ones Feyre would be coming through in any second.

The crowd grew louder as the doors opened once more. Feyre entered, led by two unarmed guards. She was hauled toward a wooden platform erected above the crowd, where Amarantha and Tamlin sat. She was thrown to her knees before the platform by the guards, and Ana once again clenched her hands into fists.

Feyre stood. Ana had to give her props for showing no fear.

Amarantha had only to raise a hand and the roaring crowd silenced.

It became so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. "Well, Feyre," the queen said. "Your first task is here. Let us see how deep that human affection of yours runs."

Feyre ground her teeth. She looked like she was fighting back a sneer of her own. Tamlin 's face remained blank.

I'm going to nail his balls to the wall once all of this is over, Ana seethed in her mind.

And I'll cheer you on the entire time, Rhys commented, amusement laced within his voice.

"I took the liberty of learning a few things about you," Amarantha drawled. "It was only fair, you know. I think you'll like this task." She waved a hand, and the Attor stepped forward to part the crowd, clearing a way to the lip of the trench. "Go ahead. Look."

Feyre obeyed. She moved to the edge of the trench and looked in. It was probably twenty feet deep, filled to the brim with pits and holes and bumps and hills. It would be difficult to navigate, and Ana knew that was the point. 

Hands slammed into Feyre's back, sending her falling into the pit with a scream. Her fall was stopped abruptly as the Attor caught her by the arm and flew her into the trench, dropping her to her feet.

She swung her arms as she teetered and slipped. Laughter rang through the crowds, and Ana had to dig her nails further into her palms to keep her power and her anger in check. 

"Rhysand tells me you're a huntress," Amarantha said. She flicked her fingers. "Hunt this."

The faeries cheered, and Ana saw gold flash between spindly, multi-hued hands. Are they betting on her?

Yes, Ana darling.

Did you bet on her?

He hesitated a moment, as if fearing her reaction. For her, yes.

Ana managed a light chuckle. Only you . . .

"Release it," Amarantha called. Ana scanned the trenches⎯the maze of walls and pits⎯in a desperate search for the creature that Feyre would be hunting. And when she finally saw it, she felt her blood run cold. Her heart stopped within her chest as her body stiffened. "Run."

Feyre listened.

The blonde wanted to cry, scream, rage. She wanted to collapse into Rhys's arms and let the darkness swallow her whole. She wanted to throw everything she had at Amarantha and run to Feyre's aid, but she couldn't. Her body was frozen as she looked at the creature within the trench, taking it all in. Taking in every familiar feature that she'd once faced.

A Middengard Wyrm. Of course Prythian had them. Of course. She couldn't seem to escape bits and pieces of her past, no matter how hard she tried to.

Ana darling. Are you okay? Rhys asked, his thumbs brushing against the skin of her biceps.

Ana realized she was shaking. I'd say yes, but we both know that would be a lie. She swallowed thickly. I may or may not have fought one of those before . . . when I was ten . . . and almost died. It's whatever. 

Rhys only blinked in surprise. Yeah, that's how she was feeling right now.

The creature looked like a worm, but it had a mouth filled with ring after ring of razor-sharp teeth. It barreled toward Feyre, its pinkish-brown body surging and twisting with horrific ease. These trenches were its lair.

And Feyre was dinner.

Ana's eyes never once left Feyre as she slipped and slid on the floor, taking turn after turn. She was putting as much distance between herself and the wyrm as she could, allowing herself time to make a plan. Ana was now extremely happy that she'd taught Feyre just a bit of self defense. It would surely come in handy.

She slipped into a gap too small for the wyrm, disappearing momentarily. When she reappeared, she was covered head-to-toe in mud and shit. The crowd sighed, but Ana ignored them.

Feyre bolted into another passageway, heading further into the labyrinth. The wyrm headed in the opposite direction, and Ana was once again thanking the Mother for making these damn things blind. 

A shout slipped through Ana's teeth as Feyre ran right off the side of a pit, falling into ankle-deep mud. She prayed to Raziel that nothing was hurt or broken, letting out a sigh of relief as Feyre began moving once more. 

Feyre disappeared into the darkness for a moment, and Ana felt her heart race as she checked the wyrm's location. It still had no clue where she was.

"Feyre," Amarantha drawled lazily and bored. "You're ruining everyone's fun! Come out!"

When she finally stumbled from the darkness, Ana had started biting her nails. Feyre began to scale the mud-made walls, but she made little progress.

"Use your surroundings," Ana muttered. "Remember what I taught you. Sometimes your surroundings are more valuable than you think."

She knew Feyre couldn't hear her, but she had to do something to keep from freaking out.

Feyre attempted to climb the wall once more, but got the same results.

"A mouse in a trap!" one faerie crooned.

"Need a stepping stool?" another crowed.

Ana saw the realization his Feyre head on.

She whirled toward the pile of bones, then pushed her hand hard against the wall. The place was built of packed mud. Strong enough to hold weight. Feyre then plucked the two biggest bones she could find and jammed them into the wall, and Ana felt her lips quirk up. Things were looking up. 

"What's it doing? What's it planning?" a faerie asked.

Feyre grabbed a third bone and stuck it as high as she could. A fourth, smaller bone was placed in her belt. She tested the bones and began her ascent out of the pit.

The faeries began to shout again, but Ana ignored them as Feyre stopped halfway out of the pit. She suddenly jumped down into the pit once more, and the faeries muttered in confusion. But Ana knew what was happening, and she was loving it. If Amarantha wanted a hunt, Feyre would give her one.

"Oh, you beautiful genius," she muttered.

What's she doing? Rhys asked.

She's hunting.

Feyre snapped the smaller bone over her leg and it broke in two. She then eyed the pit, jammed the bones into the ground, and returned to the pile. Bone after bone was broken and shoved into the mud until the entirety of the floor was covered in sharp, jagged pieces of bone. With only a small clearing for Feyre to land safely.

She climbed her bone ladder once more, leaving the pit mouth within seconds. Feyre secured the three bones she'd taken into her belt and rushed to the nearest wall. With sturdy hands, she grabbed clumps of mud and painted herself. She even rolled on the ground so every inch of her was covered. 

"What's it doing?" a green-faced faerie whined.

Rhys's eyes twinkled. "She's building a trap."

"But the Middengard⎯"

"Relies on its scent to see," he answered. Feyre looked at him with a glare. "And Feyre just became invisible."

Ana cupped her hands around her mouth. "Beat its ass, Feyre!"

The girl grinned and saluted before getting to work.

The next few minutes passed in a blur. Feyre placed the bones at especially tight corners to make sure she could turn fast enough. She then crept up on the wyrm, which had become distracted by a group of ten frost-colored faeries. With the remaining bone-sword, Feyre slit open her palm, blood bubbling to the surface. 

The crowd went silent.

Ana looked around, fear creeping up her throat when she realized why.

The wyrm was gone.

Lucien's voice then ripped through the silence. "TO YOUR LEFT!"

Feyre bolted, getting a few feet before the wall behind her exploded. The wyrm burst through, a mass of shredding teeth just inches away.

The Archeron wove through the turns, the wyrm following close behind. She swung around each turn, picking up speed to keep in front of the creature. 

When she reached the straight away, Ana felt every fae inhale and hold. 

Feyre leaped. Her body aimed for the hole of clear ground, hitting with a force that made even Ana's bones ache. She rolled, screaming in pain.

Ana didn't have time to see what happened before the wyrm plummeted into the pit. Feyre ran as far into the den as she could to keep from getting crushed. 

It hit the earth and lashed its massive body to the side, ready to kill. But a wet, crunching noise filled the air, and the wyrm didn't move again. Ana released a breath of relief. It was dead. Feyre had won. 

There were gasps, then loud cheering filled the arena. Feyre stepped from the den, and Ana joined in. She clapped her hands, eyes shining with tears of relief. Her friend was okay. She'd beaten the first task.

"Well," Amarantha said with a little smirk. "I suppose anyone could have done that."

Feyre gripped the bone in her hands tightly, took a few steps, and hurled it at Amarantha with all her strength. Ana had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing as it embedded itself in the mud at the bitch's feet, splattering filth onto her white gown.

The faeries all gasped, and Amarantha stared at the bone before touching the mud on her bodice. "Naughty," she tsked.

Feyre looked absolutely murderous.

"I suppose you'll be happy to learn most of my court lost a good deal of money tonight," she said, picking up a piece of parchment. "Let's see," Amarantha went on, reading the paper as she toyed with Jurian's finger bone at the end of her necklace. "Yes, some said you'd last five, and"⎯she turned the paper⎯"and just one person said you would win." She frowned at the list. "Take her away. I tire of her mundane face. And send the halfling with her." Her hands clenched around her throne hard enough that the whites of her knuckles showed. "Rhysand, come here."

Feyre was led from the arena as Rhys joined Amarantha on the dais. Ana didn't fight as she was taken by the arms and dragged toward the doors. 

The first task was won. Two more to go. And since Ana didn't trust Amarantha not to screw them over, that meant Ana had two months to figure out how to unleash her power.

Two months too little.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

𝐀 𝐔 𝐓 𝐇 𝐎 𝐑 𝐒   𝐍 𝐎 𝐓 𝐄   !

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Okay. First task done. Shit is getting real. But, for those of you who thought Ana would sleep with Amarantha, I hope you're happy to know that that's not the case. Remember, Viktor did a lot to Ana to cause her to have PTSD. When she offered herself, she was allowing Amarantha to torture her without restraint, knowing that it was something the female craved after Clare died. So that's what happened.

I hope I wrote the task well. It was kind of hard since Ana wasn't a part of it, but I tried my best. Also, expect more Rhys and Ana scenes since you can bet your pretty asses that Rhys is gonna sneak out to see Ana more and more. I honestly love them so much it's unhealthy.

Fair warning, I start college next week. Move in is coming so quickly and I'm nervous as fuck. So if I'm not updating as much, it is because I'm going through packing and shit. But I will not leave you hanging. I will try to finish part one before I move in!

Please comment and vote!

Love you all!

~ a.h.