"If you want proof that we are not scheming with Hybern, consider the fact that it would be far less time consuming to slice in to your minds and make you do my bidding." Only Beron scoffs at the notion while Rhys remains cool and unhurried while Tamlin gapes. "Yet here I am. Here we all are." Silence embraces the room like an old friend before it's shattered by Tarquin clearing his throat.

"Despite Varian's unsanctioned warning, you were the only ones who came to help. The only ones. And yet you asked for nothing in return. Why?" He asks Feyre and Rhys.

"Isn't that what friends do?" Rhys responds hoarsely as Tarquin take in his words, him, and the rest of us.

"I rescind the blood rubies. Let there be no debts between us."

"Don't expect Amren to return hers." Cassian murmurs. "She's grown attached to it." A smile tugs at Varian's lips while a small one tempts mine as well. Finally, Rhys turns towards Tamlin and my smile grows at the anger on his face.

"I believe you. That you will fight for Prythian." He allows and the male lets loose a low snarl. "War is upon us. I have no interest in wasting energy arguing amongst ourselves." Despite temptation.

"You might be inclined to believe him, Rhysand, but as someone who shares a border with his court, I am not so easily swayed." A wry look from Beron. "Perhaps my errant son can clarify. Pray, where is he?" Lucien, that's who he's mentioned, the one who is now on the continent.

"Helping to guard our city." Feyre responds evenly while Eris snorts and looks over me, then Nesta.

"Pity you didn't bring the other sister. I hear our little brother's mate is quite the beauty." He comments and his brothers seem to shuffle at the thought. My nose wrinkles as Eris's gaze turns to me. "Not that there's a dearth of beauties here." He allows and I snort.

"I assume you haven't found your mate, then. What a stroke of luck for her to have avoided you so far." I smile when he bristles and feel my group's pleasure at the fact.

"The hunt is half the fun." He returns and I hate to think what he thinks wooing a female entails. "I'd be glad to show you, Shadowsinger."

"Mm, I'm afraid you'd quickly find that you would not be the hunter, but the hunted. And I don't play with my food." I flick nonexistent dirt out from my nails as if they were talons. Eris leans forward slightly and his mouth opens.

"You still certainly like to hear yourself talk, Eris. Good to know some things don't change over the centuries." Mor says before he can speak and my smirk fades when he smiles.

"Good to know that after five hundred years, you still dress like a slut."

What happens next occurs in such a flurry of movement that I almost miss it. One moment, Azriel is sitting, then he's across the reflection pool on top of Eris. "Shit." Cassian curses and instantly tries to get to Azriel, but there's a shield around both of them. I do nothing but watch as he bears down on Eris in complete silence as he rips air from his body even as Rhys repeatedly calls him off. I'm happy to watch him tear the male's head off.

"Call off your overgrown bat." Beron orders Rhys.

"Put a shorter leash on your sons and we'll discuss it." I toss back and keep careful watch on the shields around Azriel should he need help. We're all frozen as Feyre rises and walks towards the two males, then rests her hand on the shield.

"Come, Azriel." She commands and he stops. When he faces her, I feel my heart tremble at the rage written clear across his face. It's instinct to reach for him across the bond, but I run into a wall.

"Don't shut me out." I plead and run gentle hands over the wall he'd slammed down between us as he moves to sit beside Feyre. All other conversation fades as I focus on him and that wall. "You gave your word." And that tattoo still sits on my ear, the mark mocking me as I talk to nothing, but as I look over to see him refuse to even look at Mor I realize something. There's...something between us, but it's still relatively new. There's clearly something between him and Mor too and that's been going on for hundreds of years. Even if he doesn't know everything about her. I rescind myself and tune back into the conversation, but make no input.

Only when I feel Feyre's power rising does my head lift. "The fate of the humans below the wall is none of my concern." Beron says dismissively. "Especially in a spit of land with no queen, no army."

"It is my concern." Feyre says and my eyes drift to her to find her stance firm, head high, and back straight. She looks every bit the High Lady that she is. "Humans are nearly defenseless against our kind." Memories of my family dying in front of me flash through my mind as Beron's nose wrinkles.

"So go waste your own soldiers defending them. I will not send my own forces to protect chattel." Nesta, Feyre, and I go still at the words.

"You're a coward." She tells him and I nod my agreement.

"The same could be said of you."

"I don't need to explain myself to you."

"No, but perhaps to that girl's family—but they're dead, too, aren't they? Butchered and burned to death in their own beds. Funny, that you should now seek to defend humans when you were all too happy to offer them up to save yourself." Beron goes on and on while I can practically see the memories flashing through Feyre's eyes along with my own.

"As my lady said, she does not need to explain herself to you." Rhys says smoothly while Beron leans back in his chair.

"Then I suppose I don't need to explain my motivations, either."

"Your staggering generosity aside, will you be joining our forces?" Rhys asks with a brow raised.

"I have not yet decided." He returns and even Eris seems at least slightly worried about his father's lack of concern.

"Armies take time to raise," Cassian says. "You don't have the luxury of sitting on your ass. You need to rally your soldiers now."

Beron only sneers. "I don't take orders from the bastards of lesser fae whores." Rage and wrath war on our faces and I know my shadows are writhing around me when his eyes lift disinterestedly to mine.

"Keep talking like that and you'll squirm under the hand of a human Made High Fae." I threaten and not a soul speaks against me. Beron laughs darkly with eyes skittering over me.

"I'd like to see you try."

"Is that an invitation?" I ask sweetly and his sons, all but for Eris, shuffle at the shadowy tendrils I send dancing around their father.

"That bastard," Nesta surprises us all by speaking, "may wind up being the only person standing in the way of Hybern's forces and your people." Cool and composed until the end, she doesn't even spare Cassian a glance as she speaks.

"Get out if you're not going to be helpful." Feyre spits, but Beron seems to have accumulated nothing but stupidity during all his time living here.

"Did you know that while your mate was warming Amarantha's bed, most of our people were locked beneath that mountain? Did you know that while he had his head between her legs, most of us were fighting to keep our families from becoming the nightly entertainment?" What do you think he was doing? I want to scream, but I know if I did, then I'd kill him. Rip him to pieces. Cassian too, is trembling with restraint down our row.

"That's enough, Beron." Tarquin bids quietly.

"And now Rhysand wants to play hero. Amarantha's Whore becomes Hybern's Destroyer. But if it goes badly..." He smiles slowly, cruelly. "Will he get on his knees for Hybern? Or just spread his—"

It's a relief when Feyre bursts and shoots white-hot flame towards Beron like a lance.

Water joins it when Beron shields, but then white light bursts through the room and the barriers around him begin to fray. I take my chance. My shadows slink through the frays and amidst the chaos I get a glimpse into his mind.

Darkness engulfs everything. Large hands reach out, but find nothing. No flames to call to his fingertips, no heat, no power, nothing. For hours, or days, he wanders but finds nothing. He's not starving, but he's hungry. He isn't dehydrated, but he's thirsty. When someone does reveal themselves, it's his wife in the arms of Helion. Their children surround them, but slightly different. Their skin more closely resembles the dark skin of the other High Lord. His wife doesn't even look at him as they smile at one another, then kiss with an indescribable amount of tenderness.

I blink and find the room has since stilled, but Beron's enraged eyes are on mine with a twinkle of fear in their depths. I smile. "I made her High Lady, because I love her. Her power was the last thing I considered." Rhys says as I focus back on the stiff, deadly people around us.

"You knew of her powers?" Helion asks Tamlin. His expression remains empty.

"It was none of your business."

"The power belongs to us. I think it is." Beron seethes as Mor shoots him a look that most men would see and start running. Feyre looks to the Lady of Autumn with her seared arm and I see something close to regret flash through her eyes.

"I'm sorry." She says as most of us once again settle down in our seats. The woman's eyes go wide.

"Don't talk to her, you human filth."

In a moment, Beron's shields are shattered, his chair has turned to ash that collects in his hair, and his ass is flat on the floor.

"Don't ever speak to my mate like that again." Rhys says lowly with concentrated power laced into every word. Beron pops to his feet with rage coming off him in waves.

"This meeting is over. I hope Hybern butchers you all."

"This meeting is not over." Nesta declares as she rises from her chair. "You are all there is. You are all that there is between Hybern and the end of everything that is good and decent." Her gaze steadies on Beron who has my eyes as well so he knows if he makes a move against her, then I will haunt him until he dies. "You fought against Hybern in the last war. Why do you refuse to do so now?" She asks and receives no answer, but the Autumn Court settles back down. Nesta hesitates as she weighs the words in her mouth before speaking.

"You may hate us. I don't care if you do. But I do care if you let innocents suffer and die. At least stand for them. Your people. For Hybern will make an example of them. Of all of us."

"And you know this how?" That idiot Beron opens his mouth again.

"I went into the Cauldron." Nesta states flatly. "It showed me his heart. He will bring down the wall, and butcher those on either side of it." Her eyes move to the side towards the Winter Court. "I am sorry for the loss of those children. The loss of one is abhorrent. But beneath the wall, I witnessed children—entire families—starve to death." Her chin jerks towards Feyre while the same images parade through my head. "Were it not for my sister...I would be among them."

"Too long. For too long have humans beneath the wall suffered and died while you in Prythian thrived. Not during that—queen's reign. But long before. If you fight for anything—fight now, to protect those you forgot. Let them know they're not forgotten. Just this once." Thesan clears his throat.

"While a noble sentiment, the details of the Treaty did not demand we provide for our human neighbors. They were to be left alone. So we obeyed."

"The past is the past. What I care about is the road ahead. What I care about is making sure no children—Fae or human—are harmed. You have been entrusted with protecting this land. How can you not fight for it?" A rousing speech that leaves everyone quiet and staring for a fleeting moment.

"I shall consider it." Beron allows and my eyes roll as the Autumn Court vanishes with Eris leaving last. The meeting goes on, but with Beron and his ilk gone I relax slightly. Six out of the seven High Lords agree to fight with us and at least that's a weight off my mind. All our minds. Hours later, we finally leave the room in exchange for a suite around a decadent sitting area and private dining room. Birds in gilded cages cover every corner and my nose wrinkles at the fact. Most of this palace is beautiful, but I could do without the birds.

"How did Thesan keep Amarantha from trashing this place?" Feyre asks as everyone settles down in their prospective places. Rhys on a pile of pillows, Mor almost horizontal on the couch, Cassian at her feet, and Azriel in an archway staring out at the land. I reach for the bond, but once again receive nothing in return.

"It's his private residence." Rhys responds as his wings vanish while he slides down further into his spot. "He likely shielded it the same way Kallias and I did." I sigh and walk to the couch facing Mor and Cassian before settling into the corner that leaves the rest of the room open for me to see. My eyes shut for a moment as I shuck my boots, then tuck my feet under myself.

"You did well today." Cassian's voice has me opening my eyes as I stare at him critically.

"I all but killed them." He flashes a crooked smile at me.

"Clearly, not trying means you did well." Feyre teases as she walks to the door, but before she can reach it there's a knock.

"Don't open it." Mor warns without moving an inch from her spot. "Even with the shield, don't open it." Rhys rises to his feet and heads to the door.

"Wise, but unnecessary." He tells her before opening it to reveal Helion without his entourage. The High Lord leans against the door frame with a wide grin that suits his handsome face.

"How'd you get Thesan to give you the better view?"

"He finds my males to be prettier than yours, I think."

"I think it's a wing fetish."

Rhys laughs and it's good to hear as he allows Helion inside. "You've really mastered the swaggering prick performance, by the way, expertly done." His steps are long and sweeping before he comes to Feyre and pauses to bow deeply.

"Apologies for the bastard act. Old habits and all." He says and the joy coming off him is almost visible like rays of sunlight. He frowns playfully over at Rhys as he goes on. "You were on unnaturally nice behavior today. I was betting Beron would be dead by the end of it—you can't imagine my shock that he walked out alive."

"Barely." I grumble and Cassian smirks.

"My mate suggested it would be in our favor to appear as we truly are."

"Well, now I look as bad as Beron." He says while striding straight for me, but slows to grin at Azriel. "You handing Eris's ass to him will be my new fantasy at night, by the way." The Shadowsinger doesn't move, but Cassian snorts.

"I was wondering when the come-ons would begin." He says while Helion plops onto the other side of the couch from me.

"It's been what—four centuries now, and you three still haven't accepted my offer." His eyes turn to me and alight with some inner heat. "An invitation which I gladly extend to you, lovely." My brows raise as a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth and Mor's head lolls to the side.

"I don't like to share, unfortunately." She says and I don't dare look over at her to see if she's talking about me.

"You never know until you try." Helion purrs and I hum with amusement as those eyes turn back to me.

"Careful, Helion. That is my little sister you're talking to." Rhys says despite his attention seemingly wholly to belong to Feyre before him. I snort.

"Be that as it may, I certainly won't be allowing you to vet my potential partners." I remind him and a light frown takes over his face while Helion's smile brightens. Laughter leaves Rhysand and we glance over to him before arousal hits our noses and mine wrinkles.

"Whatever you're saying mind to mind, either share it or go to another room so we don't have to sit here, stewing in your scents." Mor comments and I hum my agreement even as Feyre sticks out her tongue at us.

"Apologies for offending your delicate sensibilities, cousin." Rhys bids while Feyre settles in a chair nearby. The atmosphere switches from playful into business and I sigh softly. Our work isn't even close to done.