𝐂 𝐎 𝐒 𝐌 𝐈 𝐂   𝐋 𝐎 𝐕 𝐄   !

𝙲 𝙷 𝙰 𝙿 𝚃 𝙴 𝚁   𝚂 𝙸 𝚇 𝚃 𝙴 𝙴 𝙽   !

( 𝔞𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔥𝔞'𝔰 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔶𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 ! )

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

[ TW: BRIEF MENTIONS OF SA, ABUSE, PTSD, AND TORTURE! YOU WILL NOT ACTUALLY READ ANY SA CONTENT, BUT IT WILL BE STRONGLY HINTED AT! SO READ WITH CAUTION AND GO TO THE AUTHORS NOTE FOR A BRIEF OVERVIEW OF THE CHAPTER IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH ANY OF THESE THINGS! STAY SAFE! ]

          "𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐀 . . ."

Ana sat up, gasping for air. Her lungs felt like they were wrapped in layers of wet cloth, constricting their movement and forcing her to take sharp, short breaths. She reached up to claw at her chest, only for a stabbing pain to shoot through her wrists as they came to a quick stop. 

Her wide eyes looked down to see what was stopping her, a choked sob escaping her lips. "No, no, no, no, no."

Her wrists were encased in rusted metal cuffs chained to a cement floor. Her fingertips were pale and numb, the skin of her wrists rubbed raw and bloody. The chains were only a few inches long, not allowing her much movement despite being made of rusted iron. 

"No, no, no! Please, not again." She looked at her feet to see similar cuffs wrapped around her scabbed ankles. The chains were just too short, not allowing her to bring her knees to her chest for comfort. "Please, no. Please, please, please."

This couldn't be happening. Not again, not after she escaped. Not after she made sure he was dead and buried under tons of smoldering cement blocks. Not after she watched a sharp pole go straight through his chest. He was dead, he was dead, he was dead.

Ana yanked on the chains, hoping that she was strong enough to pull them free from the ground. But it was like every time she tugged, she lost strength. The cuffs seemed to be sucking her of her energy, leaving her weak and powerless to free herself. 

She looked around her, trying to keep her panic from consuming her. She was in a cement room, the only light coming from a singular window located near the ceiling in front of her. Gray-toned sunlight filtered through the iron bars, casting blue shadows along the floors. The corners of the room were covered in ice and frost, a few rodents huddling together to keep warm. 

There was only one entrance to the room⎯a steel door bolted into the walls with no identifiable way to open it. There was no window in the door, meaning she wouldn't know if someone was on the other side until the door opened and revealed them.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she pulled on the cuffs until her scabs opened and blood pooled on the floor. She could feel her throat closing up, her lungs shrinking until they were the size of kidney beans. She couldn't breathe. She could not breathe.

It was happening again. She was back in that awful room, chained down and unable to escape. The only thing that had changed was her body. She was now older, but still stuck in those flimsy clothes that did nothing to protect her from the cold. Ana tried to somehow activate one of her runes, but she couldn't. Her angel-faerie powers must not be able to do that despite Rhys being able to.

Oh no. Rhys!

Ana tried to focus, but she couldn't. She couldn't push past the fear consuming her whole. It started in her heart and lungs, making them constrict painfully until her entire chest ached. Then it moved to her stomach and her veins, turning her blood to ice and making her so incredibly nauseous. And finally, it reached her muscles and bones and skin. She was numb, body shaking from both the cold and fear as she allowed her mind to spiral in all different directions. 

Plan after plan after plan came and went, and her hope of finding a way out of this nightmare kept dimming like the light coming from the window. She knew that if she couldn't think straight, she wouldn't be able to form a decent plan. But the memories of her last time trapped kept replaying in her head on a loop, reminding her of just how badly it had gone.

Years. She'd spent years trapped in his experiments. Years of constant testing, abuse, lack of food and water, and other activities. Years of her constantly begging and screaming for someone to end it all. Either by killing her or freeing her, she hadn't cared. She'd spent so many fucking years trapped, and after so much time filled with freedom, she was back in chains once more. Back in the cement room with ice running through her veins and death creeping toward her like the shadows along the walls. 

"Anastasia . . ."

Her body stiffened, and her eyes snapped toward the door. No, no, no, no, no. He's dead. You killed him yourself. He's dead, he's dead, he's dead, he's⎯

A loud bang shook the ground and the sound of rusty gears brushing against each other filled the cold air. She watched as the metal door slowly began to lift like the ones of a garage. 

Fluorescent light filled the room first, blinding her. Ana went to rub her eyes to clear them of spots, but the cuffs stopped her, reminding her of her predicament. 

Once she could see, she took in the large black boots standing in the hall just outside of her room. The door kept rising slowly, revealing bit after bit of who was on the other side. Black cargo pants, black long-sleeve, black leather gloves, white lab coat . . . platinum blonde hair, a scarred pale face, taunting green eyes . . .

A scream got lodged in her throat. There, standing only a few feet from her, was Viktor. The man who had put her through Hell again and again. The man who had used her for his own twisted reasons. The man she'd killed with her own bare hands. The man who got crushed under his own stupid laboratory. The man who was dead. Dead, dead, dead, dead.

"Anastasia." His voice was just as deep and cruel as she remembered, sending a tremor down her spine. It felt like her crushed lungs were being filled with icy water while her heart was being stabbed with a branding iron. She didn't want to look into his eyes, but something forced her to. They were scanning her from head to toe, filling her to the brim with rancid memories. "My, my, you've grown in all the right places."

Ana swallowed thickly and tried to push herself into the wall further⎯anything to get away from him. She only made it about half an inch before the chains stopped her. 

Every part of her was screaming at her to curse him, to hurt him. But she couldn't. She was once again left at his psychotic mercy, and she hated it. She despised it more than anything. And he knew that. He knew how much she hated him, how much she disliked being trapped. And he got so much fucking joy from it. 

"Mm, so silent. If I remember correctly, you were quite the screamer." He chuckled lowly as he stepped into her room, the door slamming closed behind him. Ana jumped and curled into herself as much as she could. No matter how many years had passed or how strong she'd gotten, she would always return to being that scared little girl when seeing him. "But, then again, the situation so much different. And much more enjoyable."

Please, someone! Please, please, please someone get me out of here! Let this be a fucked up dream or something! Just please . . .

Viktor clicked his tongue. "I would save my energy if I were you. Those chains"⎯he pointed to the ones around her ankles and wrists with a pen⎯"were made specially for you. A mix of faebane and a special type of iron made by your favorite prince of Hell. Just. For. You."

Ana glanced at the cuffs, and she realized that they weren't rusted. No, they were marbled with a blue-toned metal and a red-toned metal. Fused together, they made a striking silver that appeared as though rusted at first glance. And if Viktor was right⎯if the metals were crafted especially for her⎯then they really were sapping her of her energy and strength.

"Cruel, yes, but with your new enhancements, I need to take more precautions. After all, I don't wish to die at your hands again," he mused, his boots thundering against the ground as he approached her. "I'm guessing you're wondering how I'm alive, yes?" Ana only managed a nod. "Well, that's because a friend of yours lent me a hand."

The door opened again, revealing yet another monster from Ana's past. Standing there, arms crossed and eyes blazing, was Asmodeus. He gave her his usual inhuman smirk as he walked into the room, not bothered by the cold temperature despite being dressed for warm weather.

"I told you that we still had a deal to finish," he crooned. "You know you can't get out of a deal with a demon, Anastasia dear."

Why? Why why why why why why why? What the fuck did I do to deserve this? Whatever it was, I'm sorry. I'm so so so so so so sorry! Please, Raziel or the Cauldron or the Mother or whoever! Please get me out! I'm begging you!

"Prayers won't work here, little girl," Asmodeus mused. "You should know never to try when in the presence of a demon such as myself." Ana just shrunk into herself more. Asmodeus approached her with slow, taunting steps, until he was toe-to-toe with her. He crouched down and looked in her eyes. She could see souls screaming in his own. "Say something, girl. It'll be no fun if you're quiet the whole time. And you know how I like to have my fun."

Ana's heart was beating so fast, she was waiting for it to explode. Her body was both ice cold and burning up, muscles turning to sand and bones stiffening like lead. She was aware of every exposed part of her⎯her arms, her legs, her face. The flimsy material of the tank top and shorts did little to conceal herself and keep her modest, but she doubted the two in front of her cared much. Otherwise they would have dressed her in something different.

Viktor hummed. "Well, if you won't talk now, then I guess I'll have to force you to. Asmodeus, is the lab prepared?" The demon nodded and stood. "Good." Viktor's eyes locked on Ana's trembling form. "We have work to do."

Amarantha cackled as she watched the fae-angel hybrid tremble and shake within her cell. Oh, how she loved watching people break slowly and painfully. It was like her own personal drug, filling her with a warmth she'd been craving since the war. How she missed torturing her slaves and killing them when bored. But, alas, she had to make due with what she had. And breaking the will of a halfling would definitely be enough.

"Hmm, keep the nightmares flowing. I want her broken by the time I come to power," Amarantha ordered her guards, growing somewhat bored of the whimpers coming from the girl. "I'm off to deal with the Spring Court. Inform me of any changes."

The guards only nodded stiffly before returning to their work. Amarantha's serpent-like smirk curled along her red lips as she walked out of the chamber and toward the throne room. She had havoc to wreak and lives to end. Especially those of the Spring Court, who tried so, so hard to escape her grip. 

"Well, time to make them pay for thinking such a thing was possible," she mused. "Time to make them all pay."

⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯

"She has her," Nuala said, her voice soft and timid. "Locked away in one of her torture chambers. She has ordered for her to relive her darkest memories until she breaks."

Rhysand paced his room, thoughts spiraling as he tried to keep his emotions in check. He knew this day would come, when Amarantha would claim those in the Spring Court, which included Anastasia. His Anastasia. Part of him had hoped and prayed that she would leave with Feyre, but he knew her. He knew how stubborn yet brave she was, and how she would rather fight than hide. Especially after finding out about his . . . predicament. 

But why? Why did Amarantha have to do this? She could get her pleasure in many other fucked up ways, and yet she chose to torture his Anastasia. 

Rhysand knew that Ana had been through a lot. He could see it in her eyes, and the small things she did either out of habit or when she believed no one was watching. He'd seen the scars, heard the mutters, lived through some of the nightmares. Her life had been horrible, and to think that she would be forced to relive it? Rhysand wanted to storm into the throne room and rip Amarantha's head from her body with his teeth.

"Is there anything we can do? Anything to numb the pain or let her know that it's all an illusion?" He knew the answer, but he had to ask. He had to know. That was his . . . and she was in so much pain. "Anything?"

Nuala and Cerridwen shared a look of concern. Despite being mere shadows within the walls of Amarantha's horrid palace, he could still read them well. 

Cerridwen frowned. "I'm sorry, my High Lord. We do not know of a way to calm her mind and heal her spirit."

"But we will look," Nuala promised. "We will search for a way."

Rhysand nodded stiffly. "Thank you. You may both go. Keep hidden and report anything you find out directly to me."

The wraiths bowed before leaving the room. Once he was alone, Rhysand raged.

Furniture was thrown across the room, his power coming undone as shadows attacked everything in sight. Papers were tattered, furniture broken, and sheets ripped apart. The fire exploded to life, roaring with a ferocity that matched Rhysand's temper. His wings burst from his back, claws ripping through his fingers as he let out the most animalistic growl the walls had ever heard. His eyes were alight with the fury of the High Lord of Night. The fury of a male unable to help his tortured mate.

He allowed his power to destroy everything in the room, allowed his emotions to run until they were no more. And when the fury was nothing but embers and the rage had dried up, he concealed his power once more. His wings and claws vanished as if never there, the power within him growing dormant yet again. 

Rhysand looked around his destroyed room and sighed. He flicked his wrist, magic stinging the air as everything repaired itself. Even if all he wanted to do was break into the torture chambers and free Anastasia, he couldn't. He had to wait until Amarantha was weak. And only then would he free her. Only then would he take her to his home and let her heal. Let her know the truth.

He stormed over to his desk and stared down at the hidden plans, a feline-smirk tugging at his lips. "Don't worry, Ana Darling. I'll save you. And when I do, we'll give the world Hell."

⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯

Ana wasn't sure if she was screaming anymore. The ringing in her ears kept her from hearing anything else. She knew her mouth was open, face contorted in pure agony. She knew her body was thrashing about on the metal table, the leather bindings keeping her trapped. She knew her body was in unbelievable pain, but everything was numb. Her muscles, her bones, her blood, her nerves, her veins. Everything was numb.

Sweat slicked her skin, along with blood and vomit. Her hair was a tangled mess, and she didn't know where her shirt had gone during her fight to remain free. 

When Asmodeus had removed the cuffs, Ana had made an attempt at escape. She'd used her years of Shadowhunter training to take down the demon, only to get injected with a tranquilizer by Viktor moments later. And when she'd woken up, she'd been strapped down to the table, tubes attached to her arms and allowing a multitude of liquids to enter her body and leave. 

Through her blurry vision, Ana could see Asmodeus, Viktor, and another figure standing above her. The third figure's face was in the shadows, remaining unknown to her. Ana could feel her tears sliding down her cheeks, but that was it. They were cold against her feverish skin, falling into her mouth and ears and onto the floor. They were the only thing she knew.

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

She wanted to know why. Why her? Why was this happening again? Why? Why? Why?

Just when she was sure she would pass out from pain, it all stopped. The liquid stopped flowing and the thrashing stilled, leaving her heaving in painful breaths as she waited for something worse to happen. Something even more horrible than what she'd already been through.

Viktor hummed as he wrote on his clipboard. "Same results as before. Your body rejects demon blood yet accepts the blood of Seelies, who are part demon. Very strange, indeed." He looked down at her and smirked. "Oh, don't look so sad, Anastasia. You're helping a very noble cause."

The blonde grit her teeth, her throat raw from screaming for so long. "Fuck . . . you . . ."

It hurt to talk. It felt as though the letters were covered in razors, the consonants and vowels dipped in acid. They tore up her throat as they escaped her chapped lips, barely making a dent in Viktor and Asmodeus. In fact, all they did was make them laugh.

"Well, if you insist, my dear," Asmodeus mused. "Though, we were planning on waiting until later tonight. But, if you wish to speed the process up, that can be arranged."

Ana's skin paled further. No no no no no no no no no no no. No, please, no! Not again! Not again! NOT AGAIN! "N⎯n⎯no. N⎯no."

Viktor pulled a mocking look of sympathy. "Aw, she thinks we'll listen to her. How adorable."

Finally, the third figure stepped into the light, and Ana almost sobbed when she saw them. Dmitri stood alongside Viktor and Asmodeus, looking healthy as ever. His skin showed no signs of damage, the burns gone and the scars healed over. He even had both his eyes. It couldn't be.

"Dmitri!" Ana screamed, her eyes filled with tears as she watched the building collapse. He was still inside. He was still in there, trying to find Viktor's notebook to make sure no one else would find it. "Dmitri!"

Nadia pulled Ana back as the blonde ran toward the building. "No, Anie! No! No, I can't lose you, too!"

"But⎯but Dmitri!"

"May we see him again, in the fields of the blessed."

Ana couldn't form words, but she tried. "Dm⎯Dmitri?"

He smiled at her, but it was different. It wasn't the smile she was used to. It wasn't the one filled with kindness and brotherly love. It was twisted, a darkness in his eyes letting her know that this was not her Dmitri.

"You left me, Anie," he said, voice monotone despite his expression. "You left me to die. Now, I'm going to help them kill you."

Her heart officially stopped. "What?"

He rounded the table so he was right beside her and crouched until he was eye-level. "Look at me, Anie. Really look at me. At what you did to me."

He looked like how he did before, just older and fitter. Same red-toned hair. Same kind, hazel eyes. Same freckled cheeks. Same dimples. But when Ana blinked, everything changed.

Gone was the humor. Gone was the boy she used to know. Gone was her friend, her brother. 

His left eye was gone, replaced with a gaping hole so dark, Ana felt like it was consuming her whole. His hair was patchy and singed, scars littering his skin along with grotesque pink burns. His lips were stained black from soot and purple veins ran along his body like lightning bolts. One of his fingers was missing, and the marking they all once shared had been carved from his forearm, leaving behind a ragged patch of scar tissue. 

She screamed, tears falling faster down her cheeks as she tried to get away from him. From the truth.

"Look at me!" he shouted. "Look at what you made me! What you and Nadi did to me! You left me to die here! Left me! After the promise we all made each other. After everything, you left me to die!" He leaned closer to her, that black hole boring into her more than his remaining eye. "Do you know what it feels like to burn alive? To have your whole body consumed by flames? I'm sure you don't, considering your perfect skin."

Ana whimpered, clenching her eyes shut to get away from him. But he forced her eyelids open with his burned fingers. "No, no, no. You can't look away from me. You can't get away from me. This is what you get, Anie. For leaving me behind. For leaving me to burn slowly and painfully in the Hell that was my childhood. While you got to move on and become who you are now, I was left stuck as who I was. I never got the chance to grow. And it's all . . . your . . . fault."

A broken sob left her lips. It wasn't her fault . . . was it? She could have run back into the burning building and saved him. Found him and dragged him from the flames. But she hadn't. She'd allowed Nadia to pull her away and toward a better future, leaving him to die alone. The person he was now was all because of her choices. She'd broken that promise made to him so many years ago, and now he was back to punish her for that.

"Promise that if we ever get the chance to escape, we'll do it together?" Dmitri asked Ana and Nadia through the cement walls. "That we'll get out of here and start a life together? A better one?"

Ana nodded. "I promise, Dmi! We're getting out of here together or not at all."

"Together," Nadia promised. "As a family."

She'd let her brother die. She'd let him die alone in the place they'd wanted to escape. In the place that had taken so much from them. And she hadn't thought back on it until now. Until she was faced with the consequences of her actions. And it hurt so much. So, so, so much.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Dmitri glared at her. "Stop apologizing! We both know you don't mean it!"

"I'm sorry!" she muttered. "I'm so, so sorry."

He just looked up at Viktor and Asmodeus. "Start her on naga and lycaon blood. Time to see how resilient she really is."

Ana begged and begged him, but he looked away from her as Viktor flicked a switch. Immediately, her body was engulfed in white-hot flames of pain. Her back arched off the bed.

"I'm sorry!" she screamed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Dmitri chuckled darkly. "You weren't before, but you will be. Time to know what it feels like to burn alive."

Ana's screams echoed through the underground palace, loud enough for everyone to hear. While Amarantha smirked in pleasure, Rhysand had to keep himself from slamming his hands over his ears. He would never⎯never⎯get that sound out of his head. The sound of her agonizing pain that he could do nothing about. 

I'm sorry, Ana Darling. I'm so, so, so sorry.

Amarantha glanced to Tamlin, who sat emotionlessly at her side. "I'm thoroughly enjoying my new plaything, Tamlin. Are you? Do you enjoy hearing the screams of your once friend?" He said nothing, and Rhysand had to grit his teeth to keep from yelling. "I'm sure you do. After all, you put her through your own share of tortures. So much like me. Yet so adamant not to be."

Tamlin remained silent, but his eyes were filled with a sort of sorrow Rhysand thought he was incapable of. Despite not getting along with Ana, it was hard not to love her. And her pain was enough to cause everyone else pain. Even the guards who watched over her and forced the nightmares upon her. Even them.

Amarantha stood from her throne and raised a glass, the room falling silent. "Let the screams of the halfling be our music tonight! Let us celebrate her pain!" She settled into her throne as the party continued, smirking. "For I sure will."

Ana's body was numb as she sat in the corner of the cement room, curled into a ball as tears kept falling down her cheeks. Her tank top was back over her upper body, but it did nothing to stop the trembling. Her body shook with sobs and pain, blood running from the cuts along her skin and her veins aching. She felt both empty and full, unable to calm herself despite feeling nothing. 

Only her one wrist was cuffed to the ground, allowing her to move much more. But with how much pain she was in, she couldn't. She only had enough strength to curl into herself before everything started burning. It felt like fire was running through her veins while her skin was encased in ice. It hurt.

"So weak." Ana didn't want to look up. God, she didn't want to look up. "Look at me, you pathetic bitch. Look at what you did."

Slowly, her glassy eyes looked up, lips wobbling at what she saw.

Nadia stood in the darkened corner of her room, arms crossed over her chest and eyes glaring at her. She appeared like Dmitri had, clean and healthy, but Ana didn't trust it. Not after Dmitri. 

"Always crying. Always broken. God, it's pathetic," Nadia hissed as she walked out of the darkness, revealing the truth. Her once bright eyes were now creamy white. Her tanned skin was pale and covered in blue veins. Her hands were encased in black, and her one ear was missing. Frost glinted in her dark hair, shining like a million shards of glass ready to cut Ana to pieces. "You see, don't you? You weak, lying coward! You see what you did to me? Does it scare you? Does it hurt? Good."

The words were like fuel to the fire in her veins. Venom penetrating every pore and burning through her muscles and bones. And the look she was giving Ana was enough to make the blonde want to curl up and die. So much hatred and disappointment. Oh, God, did it hurt.

"You left me in the cold to survive on my own. That is, after letting Dmi die in that fire," she said, chuckling darkly. "Huh? You let one burn alive, and the other freeze to death. Ironic, right? And what do you get? To live. To grow. To be free."

Ana shook her head. "I didn't mean⎯"

"Don't say that," Nadia growled. "It doesn't matter what you meant. It matters what you did. You let me die. You let Dmi die. And then you went off, got another family, and forgot all about us!"

"I did not forget about you!" Ana argued, her voice shaking. "I could never!"

Nadia stormed up to her, grabbing her by the hair. Ana didn't have it in her to scream, too weak. The pain didn't even register. "You lie! You always lie! You forgot about Dmi! You forgot about me! Your original family! You gave us up for a new one! You let us die so you could live, and now you're paying the price. A coward's price."

Nadia threw her against the wall, Ana's back aching at the contact. "To think I saw you as a sister. You know, while I was buried in the snow, I kept praying that you would come back. That you would get to me before the cold did. But you never came."

Ana watched in horror as Nadia's body disappeared beneath layers of snow. The avalanche had come so quietly and so quickly, neither girl had had time to react. Ana had been lucky to be a few paces in front of Nadia, but her friend⎯her sister⎯hadn't been so lucky.

The blonde screamed and ran over to the pile of snow. She started shoveling it away, her fingers numb and blue. She scratched at the snow and ice, not caring if she lost a finger or a hand. She needed to save Nadia. She needed to get her out of the snow.

"Nadie!" she called, tears freezing on her cheeks. "Nadie! Please, are you there?"

Nothing. No shout of confirmation. No plea to get her free. 

Ana kept digging, but the snow kept coming. By the time someone found her, it was too late. Her hands were numb and blue, and Nadia was dead. Buried under the snow that had once meant freedom. Now all it meant was death.

"You didn't try hard enough to free me," Nadia continued. "If it weren't for your laziness, I'd still be alive. I'd be warm and free. It's all . . . your . . . fault." She kicked Ana's exposed foot, sending a shock of pain through it. "Now you'll know what it feels like to freeze to death. Enjoy."

Nadia disappeared, leaving Ana alone to her thoughts as the ice grew closer and colder. She was going to die the same way her brother and sister had. And there was nothing she could do about it.

Because, in the end, she deserved it.

She deserved it all.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

𝐀 𝐔 𝐓 𝐇 𝐎 𝐑 𝐒   𝐍 𝐎 𝐓 𝐄   !

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⬩❖⬩ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Okay, quick summary for those of you who did not read. Ana woke up in the same room she'd been kept in during her childhood. The man who tormented her, Viktor, was back along with the demon, Asmodeus, who you met earlier. They made a type of chain that sucked Ana of her powers, leaving her defenseless. They did experiments on her like Viktor did when she was a child. Ana also was greeted by her old friends/family⎯Nadia and Dmitri. They blamed her for their deaths⎯Dmitri died when the lab burned down and Nadia died in an avalanche. Both situations, Ana was able to save them, but she couldn't. She was a kid who wasn't trained in her abilities, so they blamed her.

The entire thing was just magic used on her by Amarantha, who wanted to break her because that's what she does. Rhysand also admits to you guys, the readers, that he and Ana were mates. And this all takes place a few days before Feyre comes to Under the Mountain to save Tamlin and everyone else. Okay?

If any of you are dealing with something, know that you are not alone! This chapter was not meant to make you relapse or anything! It's not to just put Ana through shit and make her more relatable. People go through shit every day, and just because it may not match your level doesn't mean it's not causing them pain! So, if you need to talk about anything, the comments are a SAFE SPACE! I will delete any comments that ARE NOT SAFE because I want you guys to feel comfortable. Also, reach out to me if you need to! I'm always here!

Now, Ana has been through it during this chapter. I cried while writing Dmitri and Nadia's parts because it's truly so sad. They were her family, and she's the only survivor. She has a shit ton of survivor's guilt, as seen in this chapter, and a lot of other problems she needs to deal with. And you can bet your fine asses that Rhys is gonna help her with everything. As well as Mor and Amren, who will also absolutely love her. 

But, the next chapter is going to be the one where things start to change. Feyre won't arrive for another chapter, but things are getting started next chapter. Hold on, guys. It's gonna get real.

Please comment and vote!

Love you all!

~ a.h.