Taking place under the mountain…

Amarantha’s whre, the beautiful High Lord of the night court, aided the rotten queen to her demand. But surely he needed someone too? Doesn’t everyone?*

Enter, you. Smart, gentle, kind and gorgeous you. Able to light up a room with a smile that was rarely on your lush lips.

You were the only one he could talk to, knowing your mental shields were incredibly strong and powerful. And the fact he trusted you and harboured a deep adoration for you.

Amarantha would never suspect a thing. Why would she? She was ignorant and one day she would meet a hubristic end.

The dark mountain walls were uneven and seemed to curve in, with the occasional roll of water sliding down the side of the uneven and rocky side.

The hallways were lit by torches and guards stationed every few hundred metres. You were carrying a large box, in a deep green, and a red ribbon looping it all together a pretty scarlett bow on top.

You knocked on Rhys’ door, and heard a low’ “Come in.” And pushed open the door, locking it, feeling the slight wave of power as he set a shield around the room so people couldn’t listen in.

You smiled softly. He looked exhausted. A weary smile pulled at his lips in an effort to appear more.. pulled together in front of you. His black shirt was unbuttoned slightly and rolled up sleeves to his elbows, tanned skin peeking through and veiny, calloused hands on show.

His hair was messy like he’d ran his fingers through it a hundred times, but, but, his eyes softened at the sight of you.

You weakly attempted to hide his large present box behind your back but he caught you instantly. “What’s this?” He asked, his gaze darting to the thing behind your back.

“Your present.” You smiled.

“You remembered my birthday.”