Many things happened after Rowan's statement. Fenrys choked with his own saliva and started coughing while his whole face acquired different shades of the color red. Gavriel jumped to his feet to pet his friend's back, encouraging him to keep coughing to get out of his system whatever had caused his sudden burst of coughs. Lorcan was just part of the audience, since he had seen the critical event taking place in front of him; but had remained standing in his place with an expression that could only mean pure and utter boredom. Isabella saw him rolling his eyes after Fenrys had calmed down and started drinking from a glass of water that Gavriel had practically run to get for him. Isabella wondered if perhaps Lorcan was used to Fenrys and his dramatic reactions to Rowan's words. And her thoughts were confirmed when Fenrys tried to sit on a chair and Lorcan –oh, so slyly- kicked it with his leg at the same time that Fenrys threw his whole weight on the chair to sit. The blonde, attractive, male ended up with his ass hard on the floor. Lorcan's expression was the same; the only difference was a slight glint in his eyes that spoke greater than any smile or laugh. It was a glint full of mischief well accomplished. Isabella was surprised by this side of Lorcan that she didn't know and she hadn't read in the books. Or maybe she just had missed it.

Rowan was the only one who never even glanced at the other males. He was looking at her from head to toe, a small frown in his face. He was inspecting her, scrutiny written in every single one of his features. He also seemed a little wary of her as if, for the first time, he was not sure of what she was capable of doing. Good, she thought. But having his attention was beginning to have different kinds of reactions on her. Isabella's heart was a constant rhythm in her chest, a fast, deep and exhilarating rhythm. It was a combination of fear and excitement, she knew. And she had started to feel heat moving all over her body, but accumulating intensely on her cheeks. She could imagine she looked almost as red as Fenrys when he had fought for air only mere minutes ago. The thought brought a whole lot of embarrassment to Isabella so she turned her gaze away from Rowan. But he didn't, he kept looking at her –which she knew because she couldn't help but look at him from the corner of her eye-, even when Fenrys tried to stand up and fainted –dramatically- right away. The male fell back on the floor, Gavriel hadn't run fast enough to catch him but he did throw the unconscious body over one of his shoulders and walked with it until he disappeared through the tent's 'door'.

A low, raspy laugh caught Isabella's attention. The sound had startled her. She turned to look at where the sound was coming only to find Lorcan's body shaking with every laugh, his eyes closed as if repeating the moment over and over again in his mind. She had heard him laugh before but it was only at that moment that Isabella realized what made Lorcan's laugh so different and remarkable, it sounded like the kind of laugh that rarely happened. The kind of laugh that, if things were different, people would hear constantly; but that people never heard because things were not different. The kind of laugh that the own male voicing it was not used to hearing, and neither did the people around, because the male didn't usually laugh. It was harsh and restrained. Isabella was sure that many people would find it horrible, but she thought it was beautiful because, despite everything, it was still honest and –even a bit- childish.

In the last three years, she had only heard three types of laughs coming out of someone's mouth: bitter laughs, disregarding laughs (usually directed at the prisoners), maddening laughs (usually coming from both prisoners and captors) and the laugh that followed after someone cried and realized that there was no escape. Isabella wished she never heard those sounds ever again. But she had always wished for many things.

Lorcan's, however, was remarkable and stunning, and it made her chest feel warm. She tried to imagine how Rowan's laugh would sound. He had laughed with Aelin, back in the books, and it had been described. But she wanted to hear it with her own ears, she wanted to see his face when he found something funny, and she wanted to see the way his mouth moved when that sound left his mouth. She knew Rowan had been through terrible things in his long, immortal life, but she still wondered if, perhaps, it was also like Lorcan's.

"Stop it" The sound made Isabella flinch in her seat. She thought that the words were directed at her but they hadn't. Rowan was talking to Lorcan, ordering him to recompose himself and stop laughing.

I guess the interrogation has not yet finished, she thought. Though Fenrys fainting should have been a very good reason for stopping.

Lorcan did stop laughing after hearing his friend's words. They both shared a serious look between each other –in which, Isabella imagined, they agreed to start asking questions again and how- and turned back so that both of them were facing her. They took some steps forward, not enough so that she started to feel uncomfortable, and stopped. Neither of them sat. But they both had their arms crossed over their chests. Bad cops mode was on. Maybe she should have been afraid at the idea of being interrogated by only the two most powerful fae to exist, but she wasn't. Somehow, a weird and burned part of her brain refused to be scared because they did not terrify her. She didn't feel safe but she didn't want to run away, either. It was such an overwhelming realization that Isabella felt grateful for the chair where she was sitting.

"Isabella" Rowan called for her. Her head snapped up at the sound of her name coming out of his lips. It hadn't sounded warm or comforting but rather like a fact. And yet, Isabella almost purred, pleased by the sound. She almost slapped her own face for such thoughts and body reactions. She knew that that was her crush but things were serious and even if her brain refused to be rational and fear them, she should be terrified of them. So she counted to thirty to calm herself down and decided to be as cautious and wary as possible.

"That's my name, yes" she said in response, and she was glad when her voice sounded calm and absolutely disinterested.

Rowan arched an eyebrow at her, "I know" was all he said. Isabella waited for the questions to begin but was surprised when, after three minutes –counted by her-, only silence was heard inside the tent. She knew she ought to look confused by the situation because Rowan smirked at her. He. Smirked. At. Her. Holy God.

"What?" she snapped at them both, tired of their games. "No questions?"

Rowan grabbed one of the chairs in front of her and sat gracefully down, his gaze locked on hers. "We will ask you questions, but only after we know that you will answer us truthfully".

Isabella and Lorcan snorted at the same time. Clearly, both of them knew that she wouldn't. She wanted to, yes, but she still wasn't sure. And she still hadn't forgotten the way they had circled her when the interrogation had first begun. Rowan arched one of his eyebrows at her, again, and spoke, "You will".

"So sure of yourself" she mocked.

He shrugged, and the gesture was so casual and looked completely foreign on his big body, that Isabella forgot for a moment what she had decided: males + questions = no answers from her. "I am" said a confident Rowan. And, in another person, it might have sounded egocentric but, in him, it only sounded like a simple and well-known fact. A fact that Isabella could not deny because Rowan had no reason not to be sure of himself. Not with that body and those powers. She swallowed. His eyes fell to her throat and she knew he noticed the gulp falling down her neck. His eyes shone and, with those fangs, she thought he looked feral. Then he turned his gaze away and reclined back on his chair.

"We've got all the time in the world" he told her, and she knew they did, but did she have time? That question brought a series of thoughts that her therapist would have cataloged as 'very negative' and Isabella started to panic. She didn't know what she was doing there, she didn't know where there was, she didn't know what was real, she didn't know if she was hallucinating, if she was actually dead; or, if everything was real, how she had gotten there, she didn't know if she was safe, she didn't know if maybe these males that looked like those characters she adored so much were not completely different from the idea she had of them, because she didn't really know them. She didn't know anything. And she didn't know why all of this was happening to her.

It was all too much. She needed air. She needed to be alone. She needed to stay silent but she also needed to speak. To confess. To talk with someone about everything because, maybe, they had answers. Real answers.

She was panicking. She really was. Her own throat was closing up on her, and she tried desperately to breathe. She couldn't. She couldn't breath, and she needed air. Suddenly, the walls of the tent started to feel closer and closer to her. They were also closing up on her. The tent was getting smaller and smaller with every attempt of her lungs trying to get some oxygen. She needed to get out of there. She needed to feel the grass on her fingers and to see the sky; she had begun to feel claustrophobic. She couldn't speak, nor think. Everything was a blur. There were black dots in her sight. She was going to faint. She didn't want to faint. She felt her body moving but she wasn't sure if it was really her or one of the males. She also couldn't quite understand where or how she was moving.

Black dots. No air. Need air. That was all she could think of. Then, something cold. Something wet. Water. Water running down her face and neck. She blinked at that understanding. Someone had splashed water on her face. She brought a hand to her face and looked at where her fingers had made contact with her skin. They were wet. Seconds later, she took a deep breath. Then, another. She was breathing. It was still a little bit harder than normally, but at least she was breathing. A touch on her elbow surprised her. She looked at the big, tattooed hand and realized it was Rowan's. He was speaking to her but she still couldn't hear him. He was trying to help her get back on her chair. She was on the floor. She had fallen off the chair and she hadn't realized. Rowan's second hand went to her lower back and he got her back on her chair. He had done all the work because Isabella still couldn't feel her legs. Rowan kept talking to her, his hand on her back going up and down, it was a steady caress. It helped quite a bit. His gaze was on her face, his eyes...she didn't know what was going on his mind. She thought he looked worried but she wasn't sure and her brain was still trying to recover, too exhausted to study his reaction.

Seconds passed and Rowan stayed by her side. Minutes passed and his hand remained caressing her. An hour passed when he stood and carefully sat down on his chair in front of her. Lorcan asked him something in their language, she could hear again. Her body and mind still felt weak but she was much better now. Rowan snarled at Lorcan and ordered him something. Lorcan left the tent. Rowan kept looking at her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She looked at her hands, folded on her lap, and realized she was shaking. Rowan leaned over, his hand stretched in his own lap and she was almost sure he was going to grab her hands on his and caress her again. He didn't. Instead, he spoke.

"I grew up with my cousins" he said and turned his gaze away from hers. When she didn't speak, he looked back at her. He noticed that she was listening attentively to what he was saying, nodded, and looked away again. "My parents were already old when they had me. I was a miracle" a long pause. "They passed away when I was very young so I grew up with my uncles, aunts and cousins"

"You had a happy childhood" she said, a statement, not a question; because she already knew all of that, and she already knew the answer.

He breathed, "Yes, I did"

"Me, too" and she had. Her family had been amazing. Understanding and loving. Her mind had always been the only problem, and her parents had never blamed her or shamed her for it.

He appeared surprised, "Is that so?"

"Yes" she whispered.

"Then what happened..." he asked and trailed off to look at her from head to toe and then lock his eyes with hers, "...for you to react like that?" He whispered, too. It was as if they both knew the depth of what he was asking, as if he could already imagine the answer, had already imagined it; and as if he feared it all just like her.

She considered her answers. She considered how much she wanted to reveal of her close past, and how much she wanted to spill everything out.

"I was..." the confession, the admission was always the hardest part, "...a prisoner of war" she spoke so low she thought he hadn't heard her. But he was fae, and fae had great hearing.

"Prisoner of war from your world" he said. She nodded. "And how did you end up here?" he asked her, so softly and understanding that Isabella –who already had almost all of her walls down- felt like crying.

"I don't know," she confessed.

He nodded, "Tell me everything, then". It was not an order, or a request, it was almost like a friend waiting for their friend to open up. So she did.

"Three years ago, soldiers from another country invaded my nation. They killed many of my people" she swallowed, "And captured many of them, too. I included. They...they only captured women" and she decided to correct herself, not for herself but for the other prisoners, "girls. They liked to capture girls" Rowan closed his eyes momentarily, as if the confession hurt him just as much as it hurt her. But of course, it didn't. She felt grateful, though, and encouraged to go on. "They used us. Many of us were killed. And many of us killed themselves" She blinked at the memories and realized she was crying.

"But you didn't," he muttered. She shook her head.

"I didn't" Rowan opened his mouth, as if ready to ask her something but then thought better of it and closed it again. "Go on," he told her.

"Almost two weeks ago...I managed to escape. We had just crossed the border and were in the middle of a forest, camping. I ran away but they followed me. I ran faster, and kept running even after I couldn't hear or see them anymore. I never left the forest" then she thought better of it, "Or so I thought. I slept on a tree and drank from a river. Then I heard the sound of voices and footsteps. Men." She said the last word and heard the fear that that only word brought to her.

"It was us, but you thought it was them," Rowan concluded.

"Yes" she whispered, and a weak sob escaped from deep inside her. "I thought they had found me. I wanted to run but when I had already decided where to, one of you had a sword pointing at my chest. I didn't understand anything. Then more of you appeared and I realized I was outnumbered" she sobbed again, freely this time, at the memory of how afraid she had been. At how much she had tried to control her fear, and at how much she had wanted to get out of that situation. "But then you appeared and I noticed your ears" she said and her gaze found his ears, that could still be seen through his silver hair. His long, pointy ears. He knew where her gaze had wandered to. "And you took me here. You know the rest" she finished.

He looked at her for a long moment, processing everything she had confessed and, probably, trying to find an answer for her dilemma. "How did you know our names, then?" he asked her, cautiously. It was obvious he didn't want to scare her or overstep after she had confessed more than what she had told the others.

She sighed and tried to compose herself for what she was going to admit. "I..." she started and trailed off, unsure of how to continue, "I knew your names because I had read about you. About the rest, too"

Rowan frowned and tilted his head to one side. The gesture so innocent and animal-like that Isabella remembered that Rowan could turn himself into a hawk. The gesture had reminded her of a bird. A small, confused bird. She smiled a little at that. "You...read about us? Are there books in your world about other worlds?" he asked her.

She shook her head, "There's no magic in my world. Fae do not exist. Only humans. Magic only exists in books from where I come from". She hoped he would get it.

Isabella saw the moment when realization crossed Rowan's mind. His eyes went wide and his mouth was slightly opened. He looked cute. He looked at her, stunned. "So you read about us in...a novel?" he asked, and Isabella could have sworn that he sounded scared of her possible answer. She nodded and he let out a long, tired sigh. "And who wrote it?"

She was surprised he was not bombarding her with questions. But she could imagine why. Maybe, he was also afraid like her. "Sarah. J. Maas"

A dark cloud covered Rowan's face. He didn't seem confused anymore. He looked angry. Not at her but...at the name she had spoken. "Do you know her?" she asked him, eagerly. He didn't answer her, but he did nod. She gasped and asked, "How?"

He had stopped looking at her after he had asked for the writer but now, at her question, he looked back at her. No expression or a hint of what was going through his mind right now. "Because I've met her before. She's from this world, too".

Isabella didn't know what to say, there were many things she wanted to ask, answers she needed but just when she was about to open her mouth to ask more, Rowan stood up, his chair scraping loudly. "Enough for one day, you should sleep, '' he told her, harshly, and left the tent. She heard him ordering the soldiers outside around and then silence. She was alone.

It was true she was tired, true that she needed to sleep, true that it was more than enough for one day but she also needed answers. After opening her heart to him, he had just simply closed himself up and left her alone with no new answers. She felt broken and angry. She was shattered and outraged. She wanted to follow him outside and scream until he gave her the answers she so much needed, but she couldn't. The soldiers wouldn't allow her and she was still too weak to try to make her way to Rowan. So she stood up and made her bed with the sheets that Lorcan had given her, her first night in this world, and fell asleep.

She dreamed with books and lies, tattooed faces and beautiful laughs.

. . .

She woke up the next day thanks to her growling stomach. Something in the air smelled delicious and she sat down on her 'bed', with the covers hiding her lower body, when she saw the four males talking quietly in the tent, near the table. Fenrys looked pale and Isabella wondered if maybe he would faint again. Lorcan, to her surprise, didn't look bored but rather prepared. For what, she did not know. Rowan seemed angry at Gavriel for something but the other male was simply shaking his head at him, a plate full of food in one of his hands. They all stopped whatever they were doing when they realized that she was awake and looking at them. Gavriel left the plate, slowly, on the table and took a step towards her. Rowan snarled at him, a clear warning that he shouldn't step closer to her. She was thankful to Rowan for that, but then she remembered how much of a jerk he had been to her after everything she had confessed and felt angry all over again.

Fenrys cleared his throat, "Good morning, I survived. In case you were wondering" he joked. She was surprised by his words. It didn't feel like an interrogation –though she was sure Rowan had already told them everything- or as if he were wary of her, but rather as if he had decided that she was a friend. She was confused by the thought and felt suddenly wary of Fenrys. He was weird.

"Why don't you come and eat something?" Gavriel asked her, "You must be very hungry" and he had the decency of looking guilty. Not enough for her, though.

"Yes, I am hungry. Nobody offered me any food yesterday" she told the male, her voice and words cold. Nobody cared, she thought bitterly.

Gavriel's lips were in a thin line and she noticed that there were dark circles under his eyes. He let out a sigh, "I'm deeply sorry about that" he apologized, and Isabella was angry by the fact that he sounded so sincere. "But hunger is a very useful tool for successful interrogations" he tried to joke.

Isabella raised an eyebrow at him while Fenrys coughed and said in between coughs "idiot", and Lorcan said loudly "pathetic" at the same time. Gavriel shot a deadly look at both males. Rowan turned so he was looking at her, "Eat" he ordered. She shot him a deadly look herself. What. A. Fucking. Jerk. She had cried and opened herself to him and now, after he had completely left her with no new knowledge the night before, he was ordering her around? Uh, no.

"I need to attend to my necessities" said, ignoring Rowan and his order. She looked at Lorcan, "Would you lead me there?" She thought about adding a polite 'please' but she wasn't really in the mood for being polite. Not after last night. Not after this morning. The male nodded and led her outside. The sun blinded her for a minute and then followed Lorcan to the woods. She relieved herself and then went back inside the tent. She strode inside and sat on the table as if she were completely alone. Then grabbed the plate that Gavriel had brought and started eating. She didn't say a word, just ate. She took her time with her food. Partly, because she knew that the males were waiting for her to finish talking, and also because she wanted to bother them. So she enjoyed her food and ate as slowly as possible, without looking at anyone. It was as if she were in her own world. Huh, funny.

When she swallowed the last bit of her food, she grabbed a napkin and cleaned her mouth. Then, she drank long and deep gulps of water. And only after that did she avert her gaze to the males standing in front of her. They all looked pissed at her except for Gavriel, who still looked a bit shaken with guilt. Good.

"So..." she said, "...are we still going on with that interrogation or not? I must admit that the food might have confused me a little" She sounded bitter and she did not care.

Gavriel cleared his throat, "Yes, we are not going to interrogate you" and he quickly glanced at Rowan –who had obviously told them everything- and added "But we would like to talk"

Isabella remained silent so Gavriel asked, "Is that okay with you?" she shrugged. The male sat and Fenrys followed his actions. As always, only Lorcan and Rowan remained standing. Was it a surprise that they were also with their arms crossed over their chest? Not really.

"Okay" began Gavriel, "Yesterday you said...certain things to Rowan. Is that correct?" Isabella gave them all a short nod. "Okay and you said that you had just...run and then Rowan found you?"

"No," she said uninterestedly.

Gavriel blinked and Rowan tensed, "Excuse me?"

"I didn't say that"

"Okay" he told her. He was saying that a lot today, "What did you say, then?" he asked her cautiously.

"I said that one of you" she spit out the last word, as if it were an insult, "pointed a sword at me and then Rowan appeared. Don't forget about the sword".

Gavriel nodded, "Of course, my badness" Isabella snorted. He went on, "So you have no idea how you ended up here because you didn't do anything. And you knew about us because you read a novel about us written by Miss Sarah. J. Maas" he resumed and looked at her expectantly.

"Pretty much, yes" she said, lightly.

The four males were tense now. They started talking to each other in their tongue and Isabella was furious. "Hey!" she exclaimed at them. They all looked at her. "It's rude to speak in your tongue when you all know I can't understand you. Don't be assholes" she was practically screaming but not quite yet.

Gavriel cleared his throat again, "You are right. Our apologies"

"No" she said.

Gavriel blinked, "No?"

"No. You apologized but the rest didn't. And all of you were being rude. So apologize" when nobody spoke, she reclined in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest, trying to imitate the two most intimidating males. "Go ahead," she urged them. "I'm waiting"

Fenrys seemed rather shocked by her words but recomposed himself fast enough, "I'm sorry" he told her. She nodded at him and then looked expectantly at Lorcan. The male looked as if he found the whole demand ridiculous and he would rather jump out a window than apologize to her but then Gavriel kicked him with one of his legs and Lorcan blurted a "I'm sorry" very fast. She nodded at him, too. Rowan was the last one and, as usual, he was looking at her already. His eyes were narrowed at her and he seemed to be considering his options and her attitude. He relented. "My apologies" he told her.

She clasped her hands and Fenrys flinched. "Good. Now that that is done, I would like to know who Sarah. J. Maas really is" Gavriel seemed surprised by the fact that she knew about Sarah. "Rowan said that she was from this world and not mine" she explained. It was now Lorcan who kicked Rowan but he didn't make a sound of pain or surprise, he just took the blow.

"I see, well, she was..." Gavriel began but she interrupted him. "No" she said, "You tell me" and looked right at Rowan when speaking. He looked ready to kick her but she didn't back down. She was tired of being played and weak. She wanted answers and she wanted them now. And she wanted him to answer her questions, since he had refused to do so the night before.

Seconds. Minutes. Then Rowan sighed and Isabella had to hide the smile of triumph threatening to erupt in her face. "She was a fae from our world. Older than me but younger than Lorcan. She was a soldier, like us. She trained with us and also trained us" based on the sound of his voice, Isabella imagined that they were all closer than just fellow soldiers. "She was...powerful. And fast. When the Big War peaked she disappeared" he told her. "We never heard from her again after that" he concluded.

"Okay, so she was a..." Isabella struggled to remember the word, "...a world-walker?" she asked. They all nodded. "And you all knew that?" she asked, and once again they all nodded. "But neither of you knew that she had walked into another world" they all shook their heads. "Or knew that she had written eight books about this world with the four of you as main characters?" they shook their heads again. Isabella sighed. Did this mean she was not crazy? That she was not imagining things, that this world was real and she had somehow managed to travel through it. That reminded her..."I'm not a world-walker, how did I end up here?" she asked and hoped they had an answer.

"We don't know, yet. We are trying to figure it out but we need time and resources" answered Gavriel.

"Resources?" she asked, confused.

"Yes, we need to make sure if there is an answer to what happened to you in a book or if it is not something someone did or if...there are more like you" he said and Isabella felt like he had wanted to say something else in the end but ended up changing his mind.

"More like me?" she repeated.

Fenrys nodded, enthusiastically, "Yes, more outsiders like you" Okay, auch. No need to put it like that.

"So what do we do now?" She asked them because she couldn't wander around this world alone and Gavriel had said that they were all trying to look for an answer and she knew that they would need her along the way. After all, she could be able to recognize others like her more easily.

Gavriel looked to Rowan, expecting him to answer, so he told her, "We travel".