I knew what I had to do.

As soon as I woke up the next morning. I knew.

Yesterday I had so many nightmares, all different variations of my father dying in front of me and me being frozen and almost entirely engulfed in ice with only my neck and head being free. Almost like High Lord Kallias' gifts had been used specifically to trap a High Fae such as me.

Unable to move. Barley able to breathe from my own hysteria. The dream felt so real. I barely felt the cold after a while although at first it felt like a thousand needles piercing my skin over and over, not satisfied until they pierced my very bones and tore me apart until I was nothing but sinew.

And I was screaming as I had to watch the blood pool at my father's green eyes. Where white should've been surrounding his green irises there was only red. Blood red that glittered like rubies.

His face and neck were also victims to the tendrils of dark blood that streamed from both his eyes and leaked from his mouth.

Father wasn't moving. Wasn't breathing. And I was so desperate to help him. To save him. But I couldn't. I couldn't do anything to help him.

And I woke up crying and in despair. But I was relieved nonetheless that it had just been a dream, although there was still potential danger for him.

But no matter what it takes I would help him. I couldn't bear to lose him. And I was determined that I wouldn't. I got my stubbornness from him as well.

He was the only one I had left, my only family and certainly the the only one who gave a damn about me.

Apart from Bellamy. Ah yes. My best friend certainly cared and I loved him for it and I cherished his friendship.

I didn't have my mother though. My damned mother. Lady Ivanna of the Spring Court, consort of Tamlin the High Lord of Spring.

Ivanna. Cauldron boil me I hated her guts. For what she did. Abandoning her child and her husband to sneak off to be with her mate from the Dawn Court.

She only returned every decade or so for incredibly important and official events that usually had important members from other courts present. She never returned to see me nor did she even ask about me so I'm told.

She only returned to keep that guise to them at least that the Spring Court's ruler and his consort were still a couple. Or at least that Tamlin didn't have his wife abandon him for a lesser male. And so that she kept some level of popularity and status within the elites of the High Fae. She knew it wouldn't be good business for her to be shunned by them.

I certainly ensured that I was never around when she deigned to return, I usually took to a hunt with Bellamy. Something to take my mind off it.

Or even on occasions I would go on a ride with Shilah, my friend, who was a stable hand. She was a sweet woman, a few years younger than me and certainly more beautiful than me with her bright orange, pretty monolid eyes like fire and her bright orange wings that matched them. I often marvelled at them. How I wished I could fly like her. Perhaps when I get shapeshifting gifts I will be able to join her in the skies.

I was glad I had both of them to be an emotional crutch during those times. Considering I wasn't allowed to travel between courts that much I was blessed to have friends. Being a High Lord's only child can be lonely.

But again I shouldn't complain, not when I had so much. Yes I had so much in terms of wealth and useless objects but so little in the things that truly counted, I had a handful of people who cared about me but I desired more, yet maybe I didn't deserve more.

If I was going to be around for centuries I wanted love, I wanted to be happy or none of it would be worth it. Perhaps I would just have to learn to live with the love of my people, love from a distance because the concept of letting someone truly in was terrifying. Not even Bellamy knew the darkest parts.

Such icy cold rage I carried and it all stemmed from the initial abandonment, that feeling of being unloved, unwanted, like there was something wrong with me, believing that no one else could possibly live me and it was my fault she left. Illogical as I was only a child and yet I couldn't shake it even all these decades later. Strange that these thoughts came to plague me now.

And I supposed I should be thankful that Ivanna had always sent word when she occasionally returned otherwise that would've been a nasty surprise to see her on the doorstep all of a sudden.

My father barely spoke to her either when she returned. As if I couldn't bear to look at her and I can't blame him. And she certainly never stayed in the Spring Court for more than a day.

It would be humiliating for my father and me for people to know the truth. Although most of the Spring Court did or at least suspected. But they were wise enough to keep it to themselves.

Everyone at Rosehall knew. And Ivanna certainly didn't care much about me. Maybe she did when I was young but that was long ago. I vaguely remembered hearing my mother rant about how trapped she was. By my father and the Spring Court both. How she missed her home and her freedoms.

That might've been true but I would pay good money to see her attempt to justify leaving me. I was only a youngling. Only ten.

Me and my father both knew if given the chance she cut ties for good and run away with her true mate, perhaps to the continent. But she can't just walk out of a marriage to a High Lord, not permanently.

Just then a sinister thought corrupted my mind for a moment. What if she poisoned him? She had motive. Without my father she wouldn't be bound to the Spring Court, she could be with her one true love, her mate. The only one she seemed to care about.

If I found at she was behind this I would tear her apart limb by limb. That was a promise.

Cauldron, I hate the whole concept of the mate bond. It destroyed my parents marriage. It made my mother selfish and shallow. It made her abandon me, her only child.

I didn't ever want a mate. If I had to be shackled to a man or a woman, especially a man. I'd sooner slit his throat then be trapped like that. I don't want to be like her.

And my father always taught me to be independent and strong. Like him. Although at times he would contradict that with his own over protective attitude. But I understood. I was all he had. And he was all I had. We stuck together.

So I couldn't let him die from this strange new sickness. I'd never seen anything like it. Perhaps it was even a curse or a mix of both.

No matter, I would get answers today after I trapped a suriel.

I was glad that book told me the specifics on catching one, libraries were very helpful. I had read practically every book there when I was young, my father didn't let me do much else when I was a youngling because he was terrified of me accidentally hurting myself.

But once I'd reached a certain age he couldn't stop me from venturing out, exploring the Spring Court and learning combat. And he didn't want to lose me so he didn't actively stop me. He just looked the other way and lectured me.

And I had hope. There must be a cure somewhere. And if there was I swore to find it, I didn't care about the costs.

I just needed to find one and I knew I would likely find one in the Western Woods, where there are groves of birch trees. Their kind liked it around there. I heard a rumour there used to be two suriel who enjoyed wandering the Spring Court. But now I think there's only one, which is good, for one is the amount I need to catch.

So I walked outside Rosehall, wrapped up in a dark green cloak and carrying another cloak in my bag at my side - a bright crimson one adorned with intricate rose patterns. I hoped the Suriel had a preference for Spring Court fashion I thought to myself drily.

And of course I carried more materials in my bag at my side, to fashion a snare. Strangely, that was something my father taught me when I was only twenty, still very young. High Fae do age so slowly but by that age had I reached the same form the world sees today. My ageing ceased. For now.

It was a long time ago but I never forgot that skill. And I even practised it through the years, making snares are always a useful talent to learn.

But I didn't get far with walking before I was cornered by Bellamy.

"And just where do you think your going on this fine day Thea my love," Bellamy said, falling into step with me instantly as he looked down at me with his usual smirk and twinkle in his brown eyes that I'm sure have made a hundred Fae girls swoon.

"To the Western Woods," I replied emotionlessly as I carried on walking. I didn't have time for Bellamy's antics today.

"With two cloaks?" He questioned as he spied what was in my hands, "it's spring here it's not the Winter Court love though you'd certainly look radiant in their fashion."

I ignored that comment. I barely knew much about Winter Court fashion but it wasn't hard to guess. My silence didn't stop Bellamy from piping up again though.

"But the more I think more on it I can only come to one conclusion on why'd you need that bag I spy and two such fine cloaks ... you're going to try and catch a suriel," he said confidently, watching me intently waiting for my reaction.

I forget how quickly Bellamy picks up on things. How did he even know that? When has he ever needed to catch a suriel? I wasn't even going to ask.

"How perceptive of you," I said dryly as my voice turned monotone, "and I'm not going to try, I am going to catch one," I said simply.

I was exhausted if truth be told. I hadn't slept and was on an emotional numb. I just kept picturing my father dying. And it broke me. But I couldn't think about that. Right now I just needed to initiate my plan.

"It's about your father's illness isn't it, you want to ask a suriel if there's a cure," Bellamy concluded as he kept up with my pace as I marched towards the dense forests, looking as lush, green and perfect as usual.

So my father had told his sentries as I suspected. Lovely.

"No shit," I replied. I wasn't trying to be difficult with him but I couldn't help it. Not today.

I just needed space and I was close to exploding if Bellamy kept at it. I know he didn't mean anything by it. But my temper was even shorter than usual.

"Wait Thea," he said as he turned around and blocked my path with his large form, "I'm sorry about Tamlin and he's my High Lord as well, let me help you save him."

I looked up at his dark eyes. There was genuine concern there. Concern for me. And his High Lord. Bellamy was loyal to the bone. Suddenly I couldn't cope with it all. Not now. Especially that look in his eyes. Where gratitude should've come to the surface, only one emotion did and including control it. Anger.

"Bellamy just fuck off" I snapped, my teeth gritted, "I just ... need to be alone for a bit."

He was silent for a few moments, that usual charming expression was gone as his face turned oddly serious as he didn't move for a few moments until he eventually nodded his head.

I barely ever snapped at him properly, not like that but I was in a state where I felt I had no real control over my emotions, especially when people gave me that look of pity.

Thankfully, Bellamy knew not to push me any further. Not to insist once I had made my mind up. And I wasn't going to be in any danger in the Western Woods. It was an area that was patrolled well. I wouldn't be in any danger. In theory. And honestly, if anything was lurking out there (which was unlikely) I would happily have a brawl with it - I needed an outlet for my anger.

"Alright," he reluctantly agreed knowing I was about to explode with anger or just break down in floods of tears if he continued. And I hated that. I didn't want to be vulnerable but right now I was.

"But be careful," he shouted as I had already taken a few strides towards the Western Woods and I didn't deign to reply.

I could run if I really wanted, with all my immortal speed. But I didn't want to waste a kernel of my strength that didn't need to be wasted. I would save it all for trapping the suriel.

I wasn't leaving those damn woods until I got answers. Until I knew what I needed to do to save my father. There had to be an answer. I felt it. I had faith.

So I just kept on walking. And walking.

The woods didn't change much. I'd been through them countless times. And it stayed the same.

As ancient, alive and foreboding as always. They were silent yet the were present, aware. Constantly listening for the whispers of the wind that brought in news from all of Prythian, from the depths of all the courts, even elusive murmurs from the Middle - where the most archaic and menacing creatures lived.

Some of these trees were likely as old as the old death gods of this world. The likes of the Weaver and the Bone Carver. Those beings that met an end in the war against Hybern over a century ago, my father spoke of them before. The mere mention of them used to give me nightmares once I read books chronicling them and their death powers in all their grisly glory. Until death finally came for them.

It was an unsettling notion, that no matter how immortal or indestructible something appeared to be, it always had an undoing, a downfall. A weakness. In some form or another. It reiterated how death was always waiting, a constant threat and a promise in amongst the shadows. Watching us all dance like mere ants to the melody of life - until the symphony ended and the last note played. That's when we were beckoned into the silence, to an eternal void.

Strange to think that despite all that death and war of Prythian's history the trees still stood and they likely would be here for centuries after my own death.

So I looked up at them for a moment and almost felt their attentions turned to me as I neared the silver birch trees where I was going to set my trap.

They surrounded me. Looming and taller than ever. With their rough bark with crevices stretching all up the tree trunks.

I'd never seen their branches bare, if we were in the Winter Court or perhaps the Autumn Court then maybe. But not here. Not in an perpetual spring.

Leaves of the purest emerald coated practically every branch and viridescent vegetation grew at its roots and all around the brown earth beneath.

It barely took a few more minutes before I reached the birch trees, their unique silver bark with black indents scattered around it which was impossible to ignore. Pretty yet something a little cold about it.

But I wasn't here to admire the scenery so I soon got to work, grabbing everything I needed from my bag as I started to form my snare.

I worked fast, perhaps it was my desperation and emotions that had me do it but I completed the snare in record time. Laying down a cloak carefully in the centre.

That library book and Sabin herself had warned me that suriel were a greedy faerie species. And especially of their affinity for new cloaks and finery. Or even meats such as dead turkey or chicken.

I hoped it was all true though I couldn't help but worry a little, it was my nature to overthink. Though I might've been tempted to scream out of pure frustration and anger if I didn't manage to catch one.

But for now patience was required so I waited to see if my snare did the trick.

I sat concealed but in view of my trap for a short while. I kept my eyes glued on it, I didn't want to think.

To my surprise or to my sheer luck it didn't take much time for me to hear a snap and a low hollow cry of rage.

I was almost shocked at how quickly that had happened as I stumbled out, wandering almost hesitantly like a newborn fawn to the malevolent faerie in the amongst the silver trees.

I'd heard the Suriel described before but my imagination didn't do it justice to this gangly tall figure, cloaked in dark grey rotting robes that coated its hunched back.

The hidden knife at my side made me feel a little safer as I approached it directly, watching it warily as it tried desperately to free itself with its grey arms and yellow  fingernails so unkept they almost looked like claws. I wondered if they were sharp enough to pierce my skin.

It stopped struggling though and dropped its hands. As it surely smelt me. It let out a dark wicked laugh as it turned towards me - it almost made me run at the sight. For all my weapons training I'd never particularly faced true danger before. Especially not alone.

I'd never seen something like it. It's face was ancient, seemingly made from such dry archaic dark bones, like it's skin had been worn into nothing after centuries.

It had no nose, no real flesh, only slits instead replaced them, giving it a reptilian like quality. My eyes moved down next, to it's long teeth that jutted out from its black gums from its lipless mouth. Not fangs. But I didn't doubt they could still rip my throat out if the Suriel desired it. If it wasn't trapped.

I glared into its eyes. The one place I'd avoided on its face thus far. They were the most horrifying because of this lack of life in them. Eyes of opaque white that had a gaunt quality to them. Almost ghostly. It made the creature as whole seem like it was in a ceaseless state, frozen between both threads of life and death - like it was born from the very shadows itself.

There was something off about its eyes though.There was nothing to them and yet I could feel the menacing anger that lurked in those perpetual pools of ivory, I wondered if there were trapped souls crying out behind them, trying to claw their way free of their sarcophagus.

I looked up further. The robes and it's body was just like it's face in texture and quality. Solidified, withered and veiny. I wondered if it bled red or black.

I looked at its face again and it simply stared, its eyes still glittered with threatening hatred. It made shivers run down my spine. No one had ever stared at me like that - such a pure loathing. However I suppose I understood. I had just trapped it after all. But still. I couldn't shake the eerie feeling that initial look gave me.

I opened my mouth to speak first but never got the chance as it addressed me.

"A High Fae woman, a young one at that," it mused in its ageless voice. I could never describe a voice like that. It managed to be everything yet nothing simultaneously in both age and tenor. "It's been an age since I've since one of you up close."

It had drawn out the last word and had almost spat it 'you' like it was an insult. There was certainly an undercurrent of venom in its words even as it tried to keep its cool exterior.

"I didn't come here to hear of your history with High Fae women, young, old or otherwise," I retorted without thinking and it was silent for a minute, its eyes narrowing like it would love nothing more than to gouge my dark green eyes out.

"No you did not," it said finally but then its tone turned more dark, "are you going to continue to waste my time ... or are you going to tell me what you want from the Suriel?"

"Aren't you supposed to know that already?" I said bluntly a and I cursed myself. It was a bad habit of mine when I was feeling emotional.

It snarled at that, not finding any amusement in it, "I'm not all knowing you foolish child." Child. How old was this creature if it considered me a child? I shuddered to think. "I answer questions that are given to me by another's tongue and inclination, my powers do not extend to mind reading, do not mistake me for a daemati."

That last word. I didn't recognise it but it felt ancient. A word to describe something of immense power or an accent horror - or both.

I ignored its insult and tone, instead just going to the point, "Is there a cure for my father's sickness?"

"Yes," it replied but didn't say anymore. Goody I'd caught a difficult one. What luck.

"Is that all you're going to tell me?" I snapped.

And it laughed at that, a low cruel laugh.

"I answered your question as I must, it is no fault of mine that you lacked the basic intelligence to forgo asking me to elaborate upon it," it said condescendingly, "you presumptuous yet arrogant High Fae never learn, I have no sympathy for your kind, unlike some of my brethren."

I gritted my teeth. Tempted to kill it here and now. But instead I tried to be calm and patient. I tried.

"How do I save my father from death?" I asked, attempting to keep my voice level.

It considered me for a minute. Blinking rather unnervingly with those dead white eyes as if sizing me up.

"Ah so I'm talking to a daughter of a High Lord am I? Tamlin's offspring it would seem," it said with disgust, "what a rarity forgive me if I don't bow."

I went to reply but it continued, "To save Tamlin will be no easy task child, you must journey to the far north in Prythian to find such a cure."

"What is the cure?" I interrupted, growing impatient and desperate. I didn't have time to waste and this faerie was on my last nerve.

It tilted its head at me and then went back to its unnatural stillness. I hadn't expected it to seem so predatory in its disposition even though it was supposed to be my prey. Again. I was thankful for the knife in my hand.

"Not a question of what," it started, "rather a question of who."

It said that word with such delight, which made me even more confused. Who? That left me utterly baffled but again it didn't let me say a word.

"The cure you seek is in the Night Court, you can find a cure in the Illyrian Mountains in the form of a young warrior with such unique lilac eyes."

My mouth went dry at that. A person? How could the cure be a person? A warrior of all things. And I would have to go to the Night Court, to the damn Illyrian Mountains.
I felt like being sick at that and I felt fear. Why that place?

"Who is this warrior, what am I to do with him?" I said trying to keep my voice steady, not even wanting an answer.

"The warrior is known as Nyx," it said as its toned turned spiteful yet gleeful as it had suddenly figured out something that I didn't know.

That unnerved me slightly. I didn't like it one bit.

"Before the winter solstice you must find this Illyrian, carve out and sacrifice his essence Under the Mountain where it all began," the Suriel said with a crooked smile as it inclined its skeletal hand towards mine in a false as I puzzled through his words, "if you want to save the High Lord of Spring that is."

It spoke in such a cryptic way, such a sly tone. Me and the creature locked eyes again and I could smell the stench of decaying bones as it lent closer to me.

"If you want to save your father, Tamlin."

I rocked slightly at that. I had to sacrifice someone. Cauldron. I hadn't expected that to be the answer.

But the nonetheless I disregarded that for now as I mentally took note. Nyx. Under the Mountain. Before the winter's solstice.

"What does this sacrifice entail," I asked feeling even more sick. I had to kill someone. Kill. Sacrifice. There was no coming back from that. That would surely take a bit of my soul but the question is would I be willing to lose myself? To sacrifice a part of my very soul to save my father's.

But that man was from the Night Court, that place of terror. My father was good and true. But saving him would come at a cost.

"You must spill his blood Under the Mountain," it said simply, "spill it and with that sacrifice combine his blood with a pink flowered weed from the lakes of your home, a little of your own blood, you must concoct this over the sacred stones in the centre of the remains of Amarantha's court, her old throne. Then take it back and make your father drink the mixture."

I noted that all down too. Praying I remembered all the details.

"Must I kill this warrior for the sacrifice?" I asked, my heart dropped. I knew what answer it would give me but I just needed to confirm it.

Amusement gleamed in its eyes as it nodded. Barely. not deigning me to give a verbal answer although it looked like it was warring with itself to spit more words out.

"How will I locate him specifically?" I asked and could've sworn the Suriel breathed a sigh of relief that it could now open its mouth and speak.

"I will be kind to you child," it said, too sweetly, "I will give you a bond, a bond to find him."

I nodded at that. Surprised. I didn't know the Suriel could do that but then again. These creatures were older than time, a book might not know all the answers. All their secrets that surely only the wind knew of.

"Alright," I said finally, my mind reeling from the knowledge of all I must do. I was to become an assassin of all things. Me? The future High Lady of the Spring Court. It was almost a ridiculous and sinister notion that I had to laugh.

But then I thought more seriously. I would have to travel father than I'd ever been into enemy territory. To find and kill this man, a trained warrior no doubt. And take his blood Under the Mountain. That would be incredibly difficult.

Suddenly I was glad that I knew how to handle weapons, Bellamy's training would be handy for the journey ahead. But the sudden realisation of how naive I was in the ways of the world outside my own court dawned on me, how naive I was of real battle or confrontation as well.

I looked back at the Suriel and it continued to give me that gloating looking. Like it still knew something that I didn't. But I ignored it. Perhaps I was just being paranoid.

"Free me," it commanded not waiting for a thanks from me.

So I did, surprised that it didn't try and attack me as soon as I undid the snare.

But it only looked at me for a moment more and murmured with a smile,

"Fool."

I didn't have time to ponder that before it was nothing more than a flash and a whirl of darkness and death between the trees as it took off.

I sat down on the ground and simply puzzled through those words for several minutes.

Sacrifice. Nyx. Under the Mountain.

Nyx.

Nyx.

Nyx.

Who was he? Likely someone horrible like the people of the Night Court tended to be. They were sadistic my father had told me. And he was an Illryian, a warrior who had likely killed many.

Me killing him will not rival in comparison to the lives he has surely taken. Or that's the excuse I told myself but deep down I felt horrible. That I would have to take someone's life. A stranger. How could I do it? I wasn't sure I could. But I owed my father to try, now that I knew of a way. I almost wished for a moment I had never asked. I was entirely torn.

But I had to push that away, that emotion. My humanity. It would only serve as a weakness. The one thing worse that doing this would be having to live with the fact I could've done saved my father and I didn't.

That couldn't happen. It would all be worth it I promised myself. When I saw my father returned to his health.

"You've got yourself into quite a mess love," a familiar face said from behind me and I instantly got up and spun around.

Bellamy. I rolled my eyes. Of course. My look must've betrayed my confusion yet irritation. Because he spoke first.

"You really thought I would let you hunt the Suriel unguarded?" He said, shaking his head in amusement as he leant on a tree casually, crossing those veiny arms of his. He looked so laid back yet always ready for a fight simultaneously.

"You followed me ... of course," I said with distain and he chucked.

"Obviously," he said, "I'll follow you anywhere Althea, you are quite irresistible."

I cringed automatically at the use of my full name. But something about the way he said it drew me in. Even in serious matters I could always count Bellamy to bring his humour into it.

He continued, "though I am surprised you managed to catch it, these things are even older than Sabin."

"You're not underestimating my abilities are you now?" I questioned, my mood lightening just a little at his presence as our conversations settled back into the usual bantering.

"I would never dare Thea, I have the upmost faith in you," Bellamy said with his usual smile that automatically made me smile with familiarity in return, "but I couldn't let you get hurt."

My smile faltered a little. He usually wasn't so serious. Didn't say things so directly. It made me a little uncomfortable.

"I care about you," he said, his tone anything but a joke,
"And I will always protect you, that is why I'm coming with you to the Illyrian Mountains, I'm going to help you save Tamlin."

"No," I protested immediately. I couldn't bear Bellamy getting hurt because of me and I felt better off alone. A part of myself would die if Bellamy suffered.

"Don't be a fool Thea, it will be extremely dangerous, I have more experience travelling between courts, in combat and dangers like this, not to mention more life experience," he said. He didn't say it intended as a slight but it still felt like one.

"You're only ten years older then me Bellamy," I said, feeling satisfied as I saw his face cringe at the way I said his full name, "more life experience? That's bullshit." I paused for a moment considering his other points, "besides I've read countless books about the geography of each court to be well versed in my knowledge and I've trained in combat with you for ages."

I knew I was being naive with my words but still I couldn't stop myself. Secretly I was trying to convince him and me both that I was prepared.

"Reading a book and facing something in reality is far from the same thing," he argued with a stubborn look in his dark brown eyes, "and you've practised with me? Sparred at best? Training is a hell of a lot different to facing a true opponent believe me, for one training with me your life isn't in the balance, only those pretty curls off yours I'm so fond of."

That made me eyes light up a little as I almost smiled at the memory. Of Bellamy accidentally cutting a part of my precious afro hair off. It had pissed me off because my hair took ages to grow. But that didn't matter now. It seemed like so long ago now.

And part of me was secretly glad. That I wouldn't have to face this alone. That I would have someone I love by my side. So I was silent again as I considered it.

"I don't want you to get hurt because of me," I said finally, avoiding eye contact but Bellamy's eyes softened.

"Aw Thea who knew you were so sentimental about your dear old trainer?" He teased but he looked happy at my words nonetheless. At my admission that I cared about him. I rarely said such things. I didn't like to admit my emotions, it was just another vulnerability.

I rolled my eyes, shoving him lightly.

"Bastard," I muttered but smiled as I caught his eye, "it's going to be hell you know," I reminded him, "you've heard tales of the Night Court and those brutal Illyrian warriors."

He nodded, "yes, we'll need to plan this well but it appears for now that we're going into hell together."

He said it with such enthusiasm but even I could detect the slightly apprehension behind is words - that both of us had just realised how much danger we were potentially going to be in.

I smiled faintly, "I didn't expect life to be like this," I admitted feeling weary already.

"A few weeks ago all I had were goals and dreams to prove myself, and the sparing or adventuring with you, my father was healthy, my life was relatively normal," I said then laughed coldly, "and now my father is dying and I'm to travel to unknown lands and become an assassin to save him."

I knew how much this would break me and taint my spirit. To kill this Illyrian warrior. But I didn't have many I cared about, but for the ones that I did I would break myself a million times to save them. So that was why I had to break myself. I would deal with the consequences after it all. As long as my father lived it wouldn't matter. That's what I repeated to myself for now. But I could feel the guilt starting to stir already. Those pesky emotions trying to deter me.

Bellamy looked at me, "you are doing what you must, why do you think soldiers go to war and kill countless souls? Why do High Fae, lesser fae and humans alike to anything in this life? They do things to protect those that they love, you are doing this to protect Tamlin, to save him," he said, putting his hand on my cheek and I didn't brush him away, "I won't leave you to face this darkness by yourself."

I was eternally grateful to have Bellamy by my side but we both knew this situation was different. He was trying to rationalise it - make it sound better and more honourable than it actually was. We were actively going to seek someone out to kill them, someone who had done nothing to us. It made me feel sick. As though my best friend had read my emotions all over my face he nodded as if he understood and changed his demeanour.

"This is all getting a tad dreary now love," he said after a moment, his tone more upbeat as he dropped his hand from my cheek and turned to face the way home, "we should get back while we still have the sunlight."

"Tomorrow we will plan," he said, though now he sounded just as weary as I felt.

Yes. Tomorrow. We would plan and deal with the realisations that we, or more accurately, I, was going to become a cold hearted assassin.