The soft blanket of stars above you was a calming presence, so vast and endless, twinkling with jewels. After what had seemed like an eternity under the mountain, conniving and shedding blood, the unending expanse of darkness above was a luxury you thought you’d never see again. Perched upon the roof, gazing out at the constellations, a wave of vulnerability smashed you like a brick. How could you enjoy such a sight when your hands were coated in the blood of others? When you were so severely wounded that a normal life seemed so far out of reach, as if ties to normalcy had been shredded. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks, such traitorous, salty droplets of hurt.

A warm presence melded into form behind you, the power radiating from his firm body a clear indication of who stood there. A few, cautious steps led him towards you as he sat beside your shuddering form, wings drooping onto the tiles of the roof as he allowed his shoulders to sag. Rhysand didn’t talk at first, instead wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders and pulling you close, gently stroking your shoulder as he allowed you to weep, pouring the emotions like an old faucet that had been clogged for far too long being opened.

An undetermined amount of time passed before your mate decided to speak, his voice smooth and low, an attempt to reach out to you. You were both ruined, scarred and changed by the experiences. But he wouldn’t let you suffer by yourself.

“Just let it out, darling. I’m here now.”

He murmured gently, lips caressing your ear.