The illyrian camp was busy. Groups coming in and out seamlessly on towering horses or taking of with their great leathery wings.

others resumed their usual chores, sweeping or moving baskets of produce across the market.

Rhys winnowed from the house with Cassian and a still stunned Feyre.

There was a thunderous clatter of hooves on the dirt, and Cassian smirked at the noise, folding his arms as you, the notorious winged commander tugged the huge beast of a horse to a halt in front of them.

From Feyre's face, Rhys was telling her who you were through their mental link.

And her face wasn't an excited one.