Autumn's Captive

Chapter 10

Lucien

His eyes were getting tired. Legs getting weak. The land beneath his feet becoming hot embers as the leather of his shoes become more worn and uncomfortable. As a matter of fact, his whole body could use some long awaited rest. But Lucien punched himself in the gut, anything really to keep his body and mind awake till he reached Tamlin.

The Spring Court was in his sight. He couldn't rejoice quite yet.

Lucien needed to confront his High Lord.

He remembered when he last spoke to Tamlin. It had been just before he left with Feyre and Hybern's people. He had abandoned him. Making him the lousiest emissary ever. What kept him going was the image of Feyre with Eris in the Autumn Court. He formed a fist at his side.

"Dammit!"

Lucien shouted as he picked up the pace. Ignoring the pain from his foot. He limped much faster. Soon the Spring Court came into view.

The mid-sun landscape captured the mansion of Spring. A plethora of trees surrounded the land in several vibrant shades of green. Although he wasn't there to enjoy the scenery. He passed the main tree on the hill and descended down.

Although that's when his vision blanked and he collapsed.

The next moment, Lucien opened his eyes to see that he was in a bed. His leg propped up on a pillow and his foot had been wrapped with some sort of healing salve. He then locked on a figure that was standing near an opening in the wall overlooking the entirety of the Spring Court.

The High Lord stood just a few feet away. His long-flaxen hair had been a bit disheveled. He face was filled with anguish and grief.

"You're awake."

Tamlin's voice was rough. It was enough to make him wince.

Lucien fist formed once again.

"Tamlin, listen…"

Tamlin jerked his attention from his court to look upon his emissary.

"Why should I listen to anything? You've already abandoned this court. I was the one who took you in when Autumn threw you out. Yet that was how you repaid me. How Feyre repaid me."

"That's what I want to talk about…"

"Silence!"

"Tamlin, please just listen. It's about…"

Lucien struggled to tell Tamlin about Feyre's whereabouts. Every time Tamlin heard him he had made it quite clear to him that he wasn't able to speak. He had lost that privilege when he sided with Feyre.

"If you say Feyre, I don't want any part in it."

"Look Tamlin. I know that I have no authority whatsoever…"

Tamlin pierces Lucien with his gaze. His eyes glowing amber on the verge of transforming.

"But if you've ever loved Feyre you need to hear about what I have to say. She's in danger. She's in the clutches of Eris and Baron. And if you still won't help I will go to the Night Court and alert the High Lord of her whereabouts."

"You just had to mention that pathetic High Lord."

RHYSAND

Rhysand - High Lord of the Night Court - currently could be found in Velaris. His city of starlight that he had shared with his mate and High Lady.

He smiled at the thought of her, but soon the smile became grim.

He couldn't feel her through their bond. And she had been missing for days now. He couldn't panic. A High Lord did not panic, but a High Lord would think and plan. And that was exactly what he was doing.

He'd sent Azriel and Cassian out searching the land, even searching through Kallias' territory, that's where he last felt her and her fear.

He wasn't going to let worry creep into his body. Admitting that he was worried would only be the first step into believing that something could be wrong. And he prayed that his mate was alright. If she was… he would winnow each part of Prythian in order to search for her. And if she was in her enemies hands… Rhys closed his eyes.

A pat on the shoulder made him look at Mor. She wore an unreadable expression.

"Rhysand, we will find her."

"Mor, I hope you're right."