Nala and Azriel sat the morning table in silence, their focus was on the whispers of their shadows. Rhys walked back inside after leaving Feyre to her magic training, giving his Shadowsingers a nod. They shifted their focus, and their shadows shot out in every corner of the forest, searching for the Attor all the while keeping an eye on Feyre.

"How close?" Rhys said with a strain of stress in his voice after an hour of the two of them searching the forest for clues and chatter in the shadows. 15 minutes ago, they had located the Attor and quickly noticing that it was tracking Feyre.

"A few meters," Azriel looked past shadows to look at the High Lord, while Nala kept listing and looking into the shadows, keeping taps on the creature and her sister. "You should go now; you have to be there before it."

Rhys winnowed away just as the Attor got a hold of Feyre.

"Hold still or I'll break your neck " a hoarse voice ran through the shadows, making Nala snap her head up to look at the male. We need to be there.

Azriel nodded and the two stepped into the shadows.

The Attor screamed - screamed - as the night completely enveloped them and Feyre was wriggled free of its ruffled, strong arms. Its nails ripped her leather clothes.

She landed with her face in the hard, frozen snow.

Feyre rolled back, swirled around to gain a foothold.

The light returned as she crouched up with the knife drawn.

There stood Rhysand. He was in the process of tying the Attor to a snow-covered oak tree with threads of the night. Rhysand even stood with his hands in his pockets, his face was icy cold and beautiful as death. "I've been wondering where you're gone."

The Attor gasped and struggled to get free.

Two shadow-spears, which appeared to have been set on fire, set in its wings. Nala stepped out of the shadows by Rhys' side, her face as dark and deadly as his. She looked like she belonged at his side.

The Attor screamed as the spears drilled their way through the flesh and deep into the tree trunk behind it.

"If you answer my questions, you will be allowed to crawl back to your master," Rhys said casually, as if talking about the weather, not acknowledging that Nala had emerged from the shadows next to him.

"Man whore," hissed the Attor. Silvery blood dripped from its wings, and it hissed when the blood hit the cold snow.

Rhys smiled. "I think you forget I enjoy this kind of thing." He lifted a finger and Nala flexed her hand.

"Noooo!" shouted the Attorney. Rhys hesitated. Nala held onto her magic. "I'm sent out and need to catch her," it groaned.

"Why?" asked Rhys with his careless, frightening calm.

"It's an order and I'm not asking questions. The king wants her."

Nala's blood burned while Feyre froze to ice.

"Why?" repeated Rhys. The Attor screamed again - Nala increased the pressure of the Shadow-spears, shoved them into the Attor's vein, burning it from within. Feyre flinched back.

"I do not know. I do not know. I do not know." Feyre thought so. Nala not quite.

"Where is the King now?"

"Hybern."

"His army?"

"Coming soon."

"How big?"

"Infinite. We have allies in all territories, all waiting for orders."

Rhys turned his head away, looking down at Nala, who was still staring at the Attor with murder in her eyes. Rhys looked like someone considering his next question. But then he straightened up, and Azriel came crashing down into the snow, so cascades of snow flew around him. He had come so quietly that Feyre had not even heard the sound of his wings. Nala had felt him, always felt him. Cassian was still in the house to protect the older Archeron sisters.

As the snow calmed down around Azriel, there was no hint of kindness on his face - he carried the Shadowsinger's rock-solid face. The other half to Nala's terrifying statue.

Nala moved for the first time and the Attor turned his gaze on her. She now stood by Azriel's side, her leather uniform matching his. They were Death Incarnated as they stood side by side.

The Attor began to tremble, and Feyre almost felt sorry for it as Azriel, and Nala stepped toward it. But also, only almost.

Rhys went to Feyre, as the Shadowsingers reached the Attor. "If you try to take her again, then I will kill you without asking questions," Rhys said.

Azriel looked at him questioningly. Rhys nodded. The amulets on his scarred glitter flashed like crackling blue flames as he reached out for the Attor and Nala. Before it could scream, they disappeared.

"Tell me how you found her?" asked Azriel in his calm voice, the voice that had cracked a myriad of enemies.

Rhys stood at the cell's farthest wall with folded arms. Nala stood by Azriel's side, her hands and leather smeared in silvery blood and a cold smile sat on her lips. Azriel squatted down in front of the Attor, who was chained to a chair in the middle of the room. A few meters above, life continued unabated at the Court of Nightmares, no one knew their High Lord was visiting.

A laugh escaped the Attorney. "I got word from the King about where you were and was ordered to fly to the wall immediately."

Azriel had drawn his knife, resting it on his knee, Truth-teller - the name was imprinted in the vagina with Illyrian silver runes. Nala had Cleaver in her hand. It rested on her shoulder; it was already stained by the blood of the Attor. The Attor had already told that it and some others were stationed on the outskirts of the Illyrian territories.

The Attor lifted his gaze and looked at Rhys, his eyes shining with a hatred he had long since become accustomed to. "Good luck keeping her, dear High Lord."

"Why?" Azriel asked, while Nala snarled behind him, her eyes still burning and the Attor flinched back, had already felt the power behind the little woman's fire.

People usually assumed that it was Cassian who was the wildest of them, was he who could not be tamed. But Cassian's warm-blooded anger could be processed. There was an icy rage in Azriel that Rhys had never managed to thaw. In all the centuries that Rhys had known the shadow singer, it was minimal what he had told about his life, about the years in his father's custody, locked inside darkness. The only ones that Azriel had let in was Nala and Amren, those two were the only one who really showed what had happened over the years in the dark.

"You may not know that everyone knows there. Know that you took her from Tamlin?" Said the Attorney. Nala laughed loudly, could not hold it inside. She almost danced around the Attor, laid Cleaver against its neck and leaned into its ear, making eye contact with Azriel.

"Can I please?" she whispered seductively and Azriel smiled cheekily at her with a shake of his head.

"The king can help you keep her. Will also consider sparing you if you cooperate with him ..."

As the Attor spoke, trying to speak its way out of Nala's grip and the flirtation between the shadowsingers, Rhys searched its mind, one thought more terrifying than the other. But there was no useful information that the High Lord did not already know. It was therefore worthless now.

Az looked over his shoulder. The Attor had no more to give. Now it just chattered to gain time.

Rhys pushed himself away from the wall. "Crush that leg, stretch its wings, and leave it on Hybern's coastline. Then we'll see if it survives." The Attor beat wildly around him, begging and praying. Nala had a big smile on her lips as she let a burning hand slide over its one wing. Rhys stopped at the door. "I have not forgotten a single minute. Also be grateful that I let you live. So far," he told.

The Attor already screamed as Rhys left the cell. Nala's laughter could be heard afterwards, followed by a masculine chuckle. Azriel.