Chapter One

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          LEAVES CRUNCHED BENEATH HER BARE FEET AS SHE URGED HERSELF TO RUN FASTER. Gods, she was in pain. Her entire body ached with each step she took, and a silent wail escaped her throat when she tore the soles of her bare feet open on the sharp rocks pressed into the soil, leaving a trail of dark liquid in her wake.

Blood drizzled onto her torn dress as she clutched at her side, trying to ease the blood from dripping down her skin.

Willow dodged as many trees as she could, zigzagging through the rural area, trying to make it difficult for them to track her. Her lungs were on fire, burning each time she heaved a breath, but she pushed through it. The woman knew how to survive alone, but not how to fight and that hadn't been in her favour as she fled one of the Illyrian camps deep within the mountains.

Once she hoped she was far enough she paused her steps, clinging to one of the trees beside her. The pain in her side was unbearable and her vision went black for a second before she swore at herself to keep going.

Willow was no Illyrian woman, and these lands were all but unknown to her. The brunette had no idea which way to go, all she knew was that she needed to put as much distance between the camp and herself.

The flap of wings above her caused her to hold her breath, eyes wide as she tried to peer through the tree branches. Shadows slithered down the bark like a serpent and she pushed herself away as if they would burn her. Willow sprinted away, forcing herself harder than she had done moments before.

The girl had grown up with tales of The Night Court, and none of them had been good. Her mother had told her tales of the evil that lurked within the court, and she hadn't been wrong. Evil did lurk here, and she needed to get the hell away from it. The screams still sounded fresh within her mind and a silent sob escaped her.

Willow cried out when her foot caught on a branch and she hit the soil with a harsh thud, pain shooting down her back. Blood trickled down her nose and with shaky arms, she scrambled back to her feet and pushed forward.

They were closing in on her, she could feel the gushes of wind from the sky. Mother above. Willow wished she could just winnow away, but she held no such power and all she could do was run.

Willow let out a panicked gasp as the forest around her was cascaded into darkness. Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated as she tried to keep her footing. She couldn't see anything, it was all black and her heart hammered deep within her chest.

I'm not going to harm you.

It was as if talons caressed the edges of her mind, and she smacked the palms of her hands to her forehead. Get out. Willow had stopped running, feeling as if she had nowhere to go. 

There was a hint of amusement when those talons reached out again, but Willow snapped her shields back in place. The way her mother had taught her. She fell to her knees, covering her head as more darkness crept toward her as if trying to suffocate her.

There was a roar of fury not that far away from where she was crawling and she pressed herself further, nails digging into the mud as she squinted through the darkness. It was a type of darkness where it seemed to have taken all life out of the world. So black that she wasn't even able to see herself. It was just, nothing.

Another scream erupted from behind her, this time closer and as Willow scrambled away she felt the ground shake before her, as if something had crashed into the ground. Immediately the darkness dispersed and Willow squinted at the sudden light before she met a pair of hazel eyes. 

He was tall, and she had to crane her neck to look up at him. His face gave away nothing and his wings stood proudly at his back, his black hair ruffling from the breeze. He had a sword in hand and shadows slithered around his feet, waiting, prowling, ready for an attack. He looked even scarier that the ones that had chased her and she had nowhere to go. Cobalt blue siphons were attached to his fighting leathers, illuminating his eyes from beneath his shadows.

The forest around them had grown quiet, only her quick breaths echoed in the small clearing. 

"Come with me." His voice was soft, but she heard him clearly.

Willow glared at him then, not about to go down without a fight as a sudden bout of rage overcame her. She willed her magic but it only spluttered within her veins, not ready to come out and she was defenceless against what he was about to throw her way. The woman pushed herself to her feet slowly, eyes never once leaving his own. 

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

The Illyrian hadn't expected her to do as he had asked. He could smell her fear from where he stood and as Willow took a slow step back his brows lowered. The woman noticed that he averted his gaze over her shoulder and she spun in her heels, eyes wide.

"There she is." His voice was like velvet, falling from his lips easily. Willow had never seen The High Lord of The Night Court but his reputation preceded him. He stood tall, perhaps a bit less than the other man and his violet eyes pierced her own. He looked terrifying, radiating power and her heart sunk. This was it, she wasn't going to get out of this alive. Willow was sure they were here to kill her. "You've caused quite the trouble back there."

It hadn't been her fault, she had only been defending herself. Willow kept her mouth shut as she looked at him, trying to keep her face neutral in fear of angering the High Lord. His gaze fell to her side and lingered at the wound for a moment, teeth clenched and a muscle in his jaw flexed as if angry. 

"You have no right!" Willow flinched at his voice. "This is my camp! You have no right barging in here and interfering in my business."

The man she had come to escape came into view, being held by his collar by another dark winged Illyrian. Willow was too stunned to even look in their direction and instead cascaded her gaze downwards.

"Do I need to remind you that I am your High Lord and you answer to me, Roman?" If he had spoken to her with that tone, Willow would have cowered and begged for her life. Her hands were shaking and she kept them pressed to her wound, blood still trickling down her side. "Is there a reason this female is covered in blood, and getting chased by your men? And you better answer honestly or i'll obliterate anyone still left alive in that camp."

"This bitch killed three of my guard and set my tent on fire." snarled Roman and let out a cough when the Illyrian holding him tugged a bit harder on the collar of his fighting leathers. "You cannot take her." he continued, trying to free himself from the tight grip. "She's my wife."

Take her? Willow wasn't going anywhere with anyone and she opened her mouth in anger. "I am no ones wife."

The High Lord turned his head towards her and studied her for a moment. There seemed to be a permanent scowl on his face or perhaps that was just to show how angry he was, she didn't know. His shoulders were tense and he turned back toward Roman and said, "The lady said she isn't your wife, you have no such claim over her and therefore cannot keep her here."

Willow furrowed her brows at his words and felt eyes on her and carefully she lifted her gaze toward Roman and the Illyrian. Perhaps he looked even more frightening than The High Lord in that moment, his face contorted in pure rage. He stood taller than all of them, shoulder-length raven hair pulled in a small bun behind his head. His massive wings blocked the sun from the small clearing and his hazel eyes were solely focused on her. The General Commander of The Night Court Armies and the most dangerous Illyrian alive.

The woman almost stumbled backward but she managed to keep her footing as she held his gaze. Willow stood frozen in her spot, unable to shy away from his intense stare. There was a small tug within her chest and she blinked, startled.

Before she could even form a coherent thought, he had pinned Roman to one of the many trees and the bark split underneath the force of it.

Rhysand took a single step toward them but didn't intervene, instead he watched intently. The General Commander had twin siphons as the other, but his were red and they seemed to brighten as he pulled Roman back and slammed him down a second time.

"Cassian," uttered The High Lord, narrowing his eyes. "we do need him alive if we're to question him."

"Fuck you," spat Roman, gobble of spit sliding down Cassian's leathers. "I have nothing to hide."

"Oh?" Rhysand sauntered toward them, hands clasped behind his back in amusement. He offered Willow a quick once over and said, "Then explain to me what you did to make her kill those guards and set a fire? I'm sure it wasn't your impeccable hospitality."

"I told you, she's my wife." glowered the Illyrian, wings uncomfortable against the broken tree bark. "We just had a disagreement, that's all."

Willow felt the Illyrian with the blue siphons inch closer behind her, his shadows slithering over her feet. Though, she was still very much afraid of her life, it was like a weight had fallen off her shoulders as she met Cassian's gaze once more.

"Are you his wife by contract?" It was Rhysand who had asked her, his voice a lot softer than it had been moments before. "Is there anything to prove he is your husband?"

The woman furrowed her brows and shook her head, hands shaking. "No, he is not my husband. The ceremony was to be tonight, but I do not want him to be anything to me."

"Rhysand," This time it was Cassian and as his hazel eyes left her he looked toward his High Lord, a silent conversation passing between them. The High Lord gave a single nod and before Willow could take her next breath, darkness clouded her vision and she felt someone grab a hold of her waist carefully before she was submerged in that darkness.

A dreamless sleep overcame her.

welcome to my first every acotar story, one that i am very excited about. I've never written something based a book without tv material to go along with this so we'll see how it goes. hope you like this cassian story <3