2_-_court_of_mist_and_fury_a_-_sarah_j._maas

An exaggeration, but she had fussed while I’d sat there in hollow silence, letting her
tease the ends into soft curls and pin a section along the top of my head with pretty gold
barrettes. But maybe staying inside tonight, alone and quiet … maybe it’d be better than
facing these people. Than interacting.
Rhys’s wing curved around me, herding me closer to where I could nearly feel the heat
of his powerful body. “I promise I won’t let the wind destroy your hair.” He lifted a hand
as if he might tug on one of those loose curls, then lowered it.
“If I’m to decide whether I want to work against Hybern with you—with your Inner
Circle, can’t we just … meet here?”
“They’re all up there already. And besides, the House of Wind has enough space that I
won’t feel like chucking them all off the mountain.”
I swallowed. Sure enough, curving along the top of the center mountain behind us,
floors of lights glinted, as if the mountain had been crowned in gold. And between me and
that crown of light was a long, long stretch of open air. “You mean,” I said, because it
might have been the only weapon in my arsenal, “that this town house is too small, and
their personalities are too big, and you’re worried I might lose it again.”
His wing pushed me closer, a whisper of warmth on my shoulder. “So what if I am?”
“I’m not some broken doll.” Even if this afternoon, that conversation we’d had, what
I’d glimpsed through his eyes, said otherwise. But I yielded another step.
“I know you’re not. But that doesn’t mean I’ll throw you to the wolves. If you meant
what you said about wanting to work with me to keep Hybern from these lands, keep the
wall intact, I want you to meet my friends first. Decide on your own if it’s something you
can handle. And I want this meeting to be on my terms, not whenever they decide to
ambush this house again.”
“I didn’t know you even had friends.” Yes—anger, sharpness … It felt good. Better than
feeling nothing.
A cold smile. “You didn’t ask.”
Rhysand was close enough now that he slid a hand around my waist, both of his wings
encircling me. My spine locked up. A cage—
The wings swept back.
But he tightened his arm. Bracing me for takeoff. Mother save me. “You say the word
tonight, and we come back here, no questions asked. And if you can’t stomach working
with me, with them, then no questions asked on that, either. We can find some other way
for you to live here, be fulfilled, regardless of what I need. It’s your choice, Feyre.”
I debated pushing him on it—on insisting I stay. But stay for what? To sleep? To avoid a
meeting I should most certainly have before deciding what I wanted to do with myself?
And to fly …
I studied the wings, the arm around my waist. “Please don’t drop me. And please don’t