𝒜 𝒞𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑅𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈 | ᴀᴢʀɪᴇʟ

Chapter 72

Chapter 72

Arwen had forgotten what day it was. In hindsight, she was sure Rhysand never mentioned it for that exact reason. Feyre had left an hour ago with a remark about a painting studio in the city and Elain was curled up in her room somewhere as usual. Mor and Azriel were likely at the House of Wind, and Nesta... Well, Arwen didn't know where Nesta had gone. Nobody told her and she never asked. But she was well aware that Rhysand wasn't particularly happy with whatever those circumstances were. Arwen commented that his love for Feyre must be stronger than the mountains the city was built within if he kept his temper for her.

"It's testing me," he had replied lowly.

Now she sat with him in his office, sorting through his personal letters as Rhysand reviewed the drafts for the new treaties with the other courts that he and Mor had been working on.

"With love?" she read aloud. Rhysand frowned at her, then at the letter she held up which was signed with a beautiful cursive signature that led into a heart. "Do I have to inform our darling High Lady of your relations with..." Arwen checked the letter again. "Helion?"

He snatched the letter from her hands, tossing it to the side. "Prick." But a chuckle came a moment later. "What are you thinking for lunch? I don't expect Feyre will be back till late so we can do whatever you want."

"Oh, I see." Arwen pulled up her knees to press them against the edge of the desk. "So I wouldn't have had a choice if Feyre was here."

Rhysand thinned his eyes at her. "I meant," he began slowly and flicked her nose, "that if she was here we would have come to a compromise. But she isn't so it is entirely your choice." Arwen winced at the flick, swatting his hand away, a smile played her lips. A loud knock reverberated throughout the entire house. Rhysand peered up over her head towards the office door. "Maybe you will have to compromise after all."

She didn't understand what he meant until the second knock came along with a guttural call of complaint. Arwen bolted to her feet, the legs of her chair scraping against the floor, the loose dress catching between her legs. Veering out of the office, she looked down the long hall to the foyer entrance on the far side.

Cassian had grown impatient as she felt, already stepping inside, the talons on each great wing just missing the top ledge of the doorway. She met his hazel eyes. He smiled. Arwen's feet were moving before she commanded them to, barely feeling the thud in her knees, her pace quickening into a run. His arms were open before she reached him.

"Cassian!"

Leaping, she flung her arms around his neck, latching her legs around his waist. He caught her weight, not even a stumble under the brunt of her force. His scent filled her and for the first time in a week, she felt perfectly safe.

His laughter flooded her ears and if it was possible, she held him tighter. He kissed her cheek where he could reach, her head buried deep within the slope of his neck and shoulder.  "Hi, sweetheart."

After the past three nights spent in doubt of his return, running Nesta's words over and over and over again in her head, feeling him hold her back with the same vigour, the same unwillingness to not even let air slip between them was a relief that Arwen would never find the words to describe.

~

Rhysand knew what was coming when he situated himself in the middle seat of the longest lounge, guiding Arwen to the one on his left, Feyre taking the right. Mor and Cassian each took up an armchair. Amren, like Azriel, was ignoring his existence for an undefined length of time. Though, he assumed Amren's annoyance was less with the memory itself and more to do with the fact that Rhys meddled with her head at all. But his balls were still intact so he was pleased with that outcome.