AN: This is merely in the testing experimental stage. I haven't seen to many Court of Thorn and Roses/HP crossovers especially ones with AU parentage. So...decided to experiment. If anyone's interested in me continuing let me know through reviews/adds. I had fun writing this, would not mind writting more but there needs to be some interest for me to.

Prologue

Tamlin said things were going to be different, but they weren't. The guards were still around her all the time, and when she asked him about it he quickly dismissed her.

"I can't have you taken from me again, Feyre." He said, "You don't know what it did to me last time."

She saw her room when she had returned to his home. How every piece of furniture, every gown she had was utterly destroyed. He had ordered her a new wardrobe. The dresses were beyond frilly, they even more elaborate than they had been in the past. She knew that was partially the reason he ordered them, though he told her otherwise.

Corsets. Every damn dress he had initially given her had a corset. They had never really been in the style in the village she was from, when she was wealthy and when she was destitute. However, she was more than used to wearing them now. The last time she had worn such a contraption had been that day of her wedding—the wedding that hadn't happened thanks to Rhys.

The mere thought of her mate's name caused Feyre to frown. She tried not to think of Rhys, it was too much to bear. God knows, just being here enough had caused her to regress in a lot of ways.

She was having those dreams again of Under the Mountain, of being tortured by Amarantha, she watched Rhys being tortured, which was something new. And without a doubt like clockwork she was throwing up again. Most of the muscle that she had built up from her time in the Night Court was gone again, save for her breasts they were as large if not larger than before if a bit sorer.

That should've been her clue, besides the fact that she had stopped bleeding. Though to be fair, she had never been regular. And as a fae her cycles hadn't exactly been the same as a human.

Had she known, she probably would've tried to have done something to protect herself and the babe. Not that she had access to her powers, she found that out a few days after she had arrived here and learned that Tamlin was dousing her food with something that neutralized her powers.

To protect her, of course. Well, that was his excuse. That was always his excuse.

Everything was always to protect her. It drove her mad. How could he think she wanted to be with him, when he was like this. But talking to him, was like talking to a wall. Honestly, Feyre preferred those days where he wouldn't give her any attention.

He still thought they were together—in every sense of the world. Which included him coming into her bedroom every night.

She tried to push him away at first, told him now. But eventually he would not take it. "Feyre, the best thing to do is to move forward." He said when she said she wasn't ready it.

"I…" She said.

He put one of his hands on her. She inwardly cringed at his touch, but she kept a neutral look on her face as she said, "Tamlin, I can't. Not yet. It's too soon."

Not to mention the thought of him touching her made her inwardly repulsed. She felt as if she'd be betraying her mate, even though she knew Rhys would be understanding about the situation. The same thing had happened to him Under the Mountain, he had gone through the same thing.

The first time she had tried to fight back, she remember him pushing her down telling her it would all be okay—that it would be better if she didn't fight it. But she didn't listen, she kept screaming. And then he started slapping her so hard, that had she been remember feeling her jaw pop. She remembered trying to raise her shields only he couldn't and soon after that the skimpy thing that Alis had put her into that evening was ripped off of her body as Tamlin began pawing her.

He didn't care that she wasn't responsive, just as long as he got his.

Feyre quickly learned to lie there when it happened. The quicker she laid down, the quicker he'd leave.

He never stayed very long once he was finished. It wasn't like it was with Rhys…

She didn't know when she realized she was with child. It wasn't like the symptoms were that noticeable—for one thing, she had been getting sick ever since she got to the Spring Court and she had blamed it on the recurring nightmares…, but now she hoped that maybe it meant the baby she was carrying was her mate's and not Tamlin's.

She didn't care.

No matter who the father was, she'd love her child. The babe was what she was fighting for, still finding a way to leave this hell hole.

Because now it wasn't about finding out information, he spy mention was finished long ago. Tamlin had made sure of it.

And especially now that she was with child, she was scared to death to make one wrong move and Tamlin knew it.

She sighed as she put her hand on her rounded stomach. She knew she had to have become pregnant soon after being here—or dare she hope the babe was Rhys.

She didn't even dare try to think of that out of fear that somehow Tamlin would read her mind. And she knew for the sake of her child, she shouldn't be hoping that he was Rhys's but it was the only hope she had.

The fact that she might share a link otherwise with Tamlin for the rest of her life made her shudder.

She never thought about having children, at least not this soon. Rhys and her had talked about it briefly, that they wanted to wait. She was in no way ready to be a mother, especially in this war. But it seemed like fate had gotten the better of her, or maybe Tamlin had.

He had seemed exceedingly happy when she realized that she was with child.

"Nothing can bond two fae closer together than a babe, Feyre." He told her when the news became obvious.

It was the first time that Feyre had seen Tamlin truly excited in a long time. Since before she was made.

Becoming a fae had certainly put a strain on their relationship; being mated to another fae ruined the relationship all together.

Not that Tamlin knew about the mating bond between her and Rhys. He merely thought the bond was a part of the bargain that they had made.

"What about a mating bond?" She found herself asking. A part of her knew asking that question was just rubbing salt into the wound—that there was no mating bond between them—but she just wanted to see his reaction.

"Having a child together is its own sort of bond." He stated, "And as I've told you before Feyre, mating bond or no bond I am yours. Now, here drink your tonic. We have to make sure the baby's healthy.

He was hers when he wanted her. Everything was always on his terms. Throughout the pregnancy, Feyre found as the pregnancy passed she became more and more dependent on Tamlin. She also found herself forgetting things, and finding herself rethinking things.

She hadn't even been able to talk to Rhys through the bond in months. Not that she had tried—that much—both had agreed it would be dangerous in the brief conversation that they had before she left Tamlin. Not that she even thought of Rhys now. Some days she didn't give a thought to the high lord of the Night Court at all, like he was a nightmare.

Tamlin wanted to get married before the babe's birth much to Feyre's disdain.

"I don't want another disaster like last time," She told Tamlin as he told her his plans to have a big elaborate ceremony on the equinox.

Yes, it had really been that long. She had arrived a little after the fall equinox. She was well within the second trimester of her pregnancy, visibly showing. She didn't see the point of having an elaborate wedding, or for that matter a wedding at all. "It won't be a disaster," He said, "It won't even be that elaborate of an affair, I learned that he likes to intrude on showy things."

For a moment Feyre bit her tongue wanting to make a remark that Tamlin was the one who was showy. The outfits he forced her in were proof enough of that, but after as soon as the rage came it left her. She didn't understand why she felt angry. This was Tamlin, her protector.

He looked at her noticing the blip in her mood, "It will be fine this time, I promise."

How could he promise such a thing? He didn't even know what she felt. He really hadn't even tried to talk to her since she returned, just that over time she'd get over her ordeal.

Ordeal.

He had tried to act like nothing had happened, like Feyre was still the girl he fell in love with all those years ago. And she was it was just that…

"It will just be me and you, Lucien, and Ianthe." He said in a soft voice.

"It still doesn't feel right to me…"

"Feyre," He said, "He can't hurt anymore. I saved you."

She shuddered as she thought about how Tamlin said he saved her. Then she snarled as she looked at herself in the mirror in her latest monstrosity of a wedding dress that Ianthe had chosen for her. This one was different, yet similar to the one she had worn only a year or so earlier. Obviously, the design of the gown had been altered in order to incorporate her expanding figure. However, it was just as wrong as the first.

Her thoughts briefly drifted to another gown that she wore. A gown that was tailored just for her in a secret ceremony where…

And then she forgot.

Feyre felt like she looked like the embodiment of spring if not even more so than at her first wedding. While the gown might have not been lacy petticoat atop lacy petticoat as before, it still maintained a quality about it that was spring. The dress was a simple feel about it, and looked like a gown the pagan goddess's of old might wear. It was draped perfectly highlighting her growing bump, making her look to be the perfect embodiment of Spring's fertility. Or should she say Tamlin's fertility. Her hair was worn down this time in curls. Only a garland of roses adorned her head—undoubtedly Ianthe's touch.

While she didn't feel much these days, she still felt an unbinding rage towards the priestess. Especially when she started talking about the baby.

She still remembered Ianthe's reaction to her pregnancy

"This proves that you and Tamlin belong. The Mother has blessed the union with a child."

There was something so calculating about he way she looked at her. As if she had known.

Known what?

Feyre blinked, as she found herself at lost again as there was a knock on her door.

She didn't even tell the knocker to come in when the door opened.

Feyre honestly wasn't surprise. Privacy had all but vanished since she had returned to the Spring Court.

Tamlin had made sure of it.

For her safety and now the babe's—of course.

It was Alis she clicked her tongue when she saw Freya. "They're waiting," She told her.

Freya nodded as she turned to go towards the door. Alis shook her head at her and motioned for her to stop.

"What?" Feyre asked.

"You don't have to go through with this."

"What?" Freya was caught off guard.

Not have to go through with this wedding? That was ridiculous. Going through this wedding. Was what everyone had been telling her to do—well Tamlin and Ianthe, and anyone else who was allowed to talk to her.

Which wasn't many people these days come to think of it. Even Lucien's presence n her life had dwindled.

As she was thinking this Lucien seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"I'll take this from here, Alis."

She nodded, "I'll make sure that wretched wraith gives you two a moment. Talk some sense into her, Lucien."

The maid then turned to Feyre one more time, "Remember, Feyre, you have a choice."

After she left Lucien turned towards her. "We need to talk."

"If you're asking about Elain, I told you already. I have no idea where he sent her." Feyre said.

And she didn't, have any recollection of what really happened with Rhys. Or at least at that moment. She didn't even know why she was thinking of him as Rhys at all. He was Rhysland, her kidnapper. The one who kept her away from her beloved.

Lucien frowned as he looked at her, "Something is not right."

Feyre didn't say anything right away until she said, "It's the garland isn't it. I told Ianthe it was too much. I really don't know why Tamlin has her dictating the wedding after everything."

Lucien practically growled when he heard Ianthe's name mentioned. Well, at least someone understood where she was coming from.

Though, she had given up long ago arguing with Tamin about Ianthe.

"I know what she did to your sisters seems wrong, but she had her reasons."

Yeah, reasons to throw Elain and Nesta in the cauldron. Feyre had no idea where they were, or for that matter how they were holding up.

"I keep telling him not to trust her," Lucien said looking at Feyre. "I do not like how much control she has over the court."

"Neither do I," Feyre replied.

"Do you?" Lucien said, "Because you seem to be quite buddy, buddy again. This wedding for example, you don't want it."

Feyre gave him an odd look.

"Don't bother lying. I'm not Tamlin, Feyre. I'm not stupid. I saw the looks you gave him when you first came here, you didn't want to be here."

She still didn't be here, or at least a part of her didn't. There another part of her that seemed resigned. Why leave, she was safe.

Lucien frowned as he looked at her, "There's something wrong."

"What?" She said caught again in a daze. I'm sorry, Lucien, I guess my thoughts are caught up with the wedding and the baby."

He shook his head as he looked at her before he finally said, "Try conjuring those wings again."

"What?"

Wings? What was he talking about.

"You have no idea what I'm talking about?"

"I don't know what you're saying. I don't have wings, I…"

"You don't remember that day in the forest?" He asked.

Feyre frowned before she finally said, "A lot of things are blurry about when I was away, Lucien. Tamlin thinks Rhysland had a failsafe, if I was to ever break free…"

"You didn't break free, Feyre." Lucien snarled which had Feyre giving him a confused look.

"But I did," She said, "Tamlin took me home."

"Against your will, "Lucien said, "And he did something to you. Or Ianthe did."

"I don't…I don't...they wouldn't do anything to me. Not Tamlin."

But Ianthe?

Feyre certainly didn't trust her, not after what she did to Nesta and Elain, but at the same time…

"What's wrong with me?" She found herself saying out loud.

Lucien gave her a quizzical look. "Feyre?"

Feyre shook her head as another round of dizziness came over her. She wanted to say something, but what. Again her thoughts and words seemed to get away from her. She notice Lucien frowning at her as he murmured something under his breath.

"What?" Feyre asked.

"We're getting you out of here now." Lucien said grabbing her hand and winnowing them out of the manor.

They ended up in what appeared to be a small hunting lodge of sorts.

Feyre found as she looked out the large window in the cabin. They were definitely not in spring lands anymore. There was a brisk chill to the air, like fall.

"This cabin was in my mother's family." Lucien explained.

"We're in the Autumn Court?" She said, "Isn't that unsafe?"

"Normally, I would agree with you, but I don't think the Spring Court is exactly the safest place for you at the moment. Especially given your condition."

"Tamlin would protect his heir." Feyre said automatically.

Lucien didn't say anything, rather he just raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Feyre said. "Tamlin is already protective of his heir you and I both know it."

"Oh, I'm aware Tamlin would be protective of his heir. But it's not his child, is it, Feyre?"

Feyre gave him an odd look. "Of course it is, whose child would it be."

Rhys's. A little voice in the back of her head said. It was so faint now, like everything else.

She looked at him, "I don't understand."

"You looked like you did, for a second. Tell me, Feyre, how much do you remember of your time with Rhylsand?"

"Nothing," She said suddenly. "I remember nothing."

A part of her was screaming that there should be something there, that there was something there. But she just couldn't pinpoint where exactly that part of her was coming from.

Lucien frowned. "You were there for six months, and you're saying that nothing happened?"

Feyre frowned, "Something did happen…I just can't, Lucien I can't really recall anything. This isn't right."

"It's not," He motioned for her to sit down on one of the chairs in the lodge. The chair's reminded Feyre of something that might've been in that cottage she and her family called home for years upon years, they were covered in animal hides. However, unlike the patched up furniture that was made up of necessity the chairs seemed like they were made for a king. Or as Feyre wearily thought, a high fae. "I have my own suspicions but I'm not sure."

"Now's not a time to be cryptic, Lucien." Feyre snapped. She was actually surprised at how aggravated she was. The pregnancy had tended to make more docile than she was normally. In other words, it caused her to act very un-Feyre-ish.

"Finally," He said with a small smile.

Feyre shook her head at him, "You're happy I'm pissed?"

"I'm happy that you're acting remotely like you again not Ianthe's doll. I should've known that something wasn't right sooner, I've just been…"

"Overwhelmed with Elain." Feyre stated.

She knew how difficult it had to be for him, being apart from his mate. Something about that resonated with her. Probably when she was away from Tamlin. No, that didn't sound right.

She frowned as Lucien looked at her, "Are you okay, Feyre?"

"It's not right," She said again. "Lucien, what is going on?"

"I suspect you're being dosed with a couple of potions." He stated bluntly. "Or maybe more than a couple of potions."

"Potions?" Feyre said. "I don't remember taking any potions other than the tonic…no, you don't think?"

Stupid. A voice in the back of her head screamed. How careless could she have been. She should've been more skeptical about the tonic than she was. But she had thought, she had thought Tamlin wouldn't do anything to hurt her or the babe.

"The baby," She finally said to Lucien.

"I'm not a healer," He said, "But I suspect that the tonic won't hurt the child, if that's what you're asking. Tamlin wouldn't want to hurt his own heir."

"But he would want to hurt me?"

"Feyre…it's not that and you know it…. "

Did she?

Did she really?

She frowned, as she found the sudden onslaught of a headache. "I need to lay down."

Lucien frowned, "Of course, the bedroom's in the back. There should be some clothes in the wardrobe that should fit if you want to change."

She nodded, grateful. The last thing she wanted to do was continue to wear yet another disastrous wedding gown.

When she woke up the next morning, her head felt a little clearer. She was able to make sense of things a little more. Like the fact that she could actually focus on Rhys and that he might be her baby's father without getting a headache.

She frowned as she heard voices coming from the other room.

"The dosage is quite high," The voice said. "It's been in her system for quite awhile, and it's overwhelming the effects of her blood. I'm not even sure if it would work, or for that matter what it would do to the babe."

At the mention of the baby, Feyre put her hands protectively over her abdomen. She would not put her child's life at risk.

Frowning she looked in the room, and found a robe had been set on the chair that set next to the bed. The robe matched the nightgown. It was made out of a soft looking flannel material. Warm, but not overly so. Perfect for the brisk days of fall. The garment did fit (sort of). It strained quite a bitaround her belly. Feyre frowned, not realizing just how heavily pregnant she really was until now. Surely, she wasn't that far a long. Ianthe had said she was only at the beginning of her second trimester.

But again, this was Ianthe.

After she tied the robe, she walked in the room, to see that a woman was sitting next to Lucien.

She didn't looked like she belonged to the autumn court. Her features were sharp, and reminded Feyre vaguely of someone else she knew. She couldn't quite pinpoint the name though, as her attention drew towards the mechanical hand that the woman had it oddly reminded her of Lucien's eye.

"Feyre this is Nuan. She's the best alchemist slash healer I know."

Nuan rolled her eyes. "He's just saying that to be kind."

"It's true though," Lucien said giving her a wry look. "She's been helping me look into the tonic that Ianthe has been throwing down your throat."

"I'd hardly call that poison tonic." Nuan said looking at Feyre. "You seem to be in better condition than you should be."

"Sit down, Feyre," Lucien said. "This isn't going to be a hard conversation."

It turned out she had been dosed with a combination of fae bane, forget me not potion, a mind altering draught, and a blood binding potion of all things. Each potion had its own was volatile; the combination together was unprecedented and could lead to lasting consequences.

"Lasting consequences?" Feyre asked.

Nuan nodded her head solemnly, "The effects could be permanent if not treated accordingly. Then there's the fact you're with child. How far along are you?"

"I honestly don't know. I was told I was sometime in the beginning to middle of the second trimester, but I think I may be further a long than that," Feyre said eying her stomach.

"You're not sure about the date," Nuan said with a frown.

"Honestly, I don't remember a lot of things these days." Feyre said, "It has gotten worse as the pregnancy has progressed."

The alchemist frowned. "I think they probably have been upping the dosage. This is bad."

Feyre didn't need Nuan to hell her that to know it's bad, but she didn't say that. Instead, she said, "Please, tell me the baby is going to be alright."

Nuan and Lucien gave each other looks.

"You have to save my baby." Feyre said, "Nothing else matters."

"Does it?" Lucien said his voice, "Feyre, think about what you're saying."

"I know what I'm saying," She hissed. "And damn the consequences I want to save my child."

"You don't even know what the consequences are." Lucien snapped.

"Then tell me."

"Nuan," Lucien said asking the alchemist rather than himself to explain. Perhaps, it would be easier for him. But not for Freya.

Nuan frowned, "If we give you the antidote at full dose now it will kill the babe, and even at that we don't know if you'd be able to completely recover. Some of these potions can't even be cured by an antidote."

"And if we wait to save the babe."

"You'll more than likely severe permanent side effects." Nuan said. "And I can't be sure what the baby will recover."

"What do you mean, recover?" Feyre asked.

"The babe is getting nutrients from you. Therefore, it's been exposed to the potions you've been taking as well." Nuan said.

Feyre looked at the alchemist in horror. "Surely, there has to be something we can do."

Nuan frowned, "As I told you previously, administering the antidote at this stage would likely cause the babe to die. However, we might be able to try giving you a diluted form of the antidote. However, I don't know how much good it would do you."

"But for the babe?"

"I honestly don't know. However, it's less likely that the effects of the potion will permanent for the child if we begin it now. If we wait though…the child will be permanently stunted."

"Then we'll do the alternative form of the antidote." Feyre said.

"You didn't even let me tell you of the consequences." The alchemist stated.

"It's the only chance for both of us though." Feyre said.

"For the babe for sure," The alchemist said with a sigh. "I don't think the alternative antidote will help you, Cursebreaker. In fact, it will progress the side effects of the concoction that you were given. That once the babe is born the potions effects will be completed."

"I don't…"

"I'll be altering the antidote so it doesn't kill anything foreign in your body, such as the babe." The healer explained, "However, by doing this a full dose of the actual antidote will no longer be a viable option for you in the future."

"Can't the alter form of the antidote work?" Feyre asked. "I mean, it's going to help the babe, why shouldn't it help me."

"Because the concentration of antidote will not have the same effects. Think of it in terms of your blood," The healer said. "Lucien said you were gifted with the lord of Dawn's gift of healing, is that correct?"

Feyre looked at Lucien, "She analyzed your blood, Feyre."

Feyre reluctantly nodded. "Yes."

"The potions you have been given have increased and the amount of potions in your system has grown and developed like it has intended. Rendering your blood pretty much useless."

Feyre frowned, "So what you're saying is that if I don't have the antidote in its full amount, it's likely to be overcome at some point by the potion that is still in my system."

The alchemist nodded. "Now, we could try to accelerate the birth of the babe…"

"No," Feyre said putting her hands protectively over her protruding stomach. "I won't do that to my child. It comes first. Even if I do end up being Tamlin's love slave."

Because that undoubtedly was what the potions were intended for.

The diluted antidote had more side effects than initially thought. For one thing, Feyre found herself having no energy at all and was soon on bed rest.

Lucien was right, no one seemed to know where this cabin was. He had told her his mother's family was quite paranoid. When he had given up on trying to get her to drop this ludicrous plan.

"You'd do the same," Feyre snapped when he had pleaded with her to just take the full version of the antidote, to risk her child's life. "Don't deny it, you and I both know if you were in my position you'd do the same."

"I still don't have to like it." He said frowning at her. "I can't believe I didn't interfere earlier."

She shook her head. "I'm sure Tamlin kept you in the dark. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time you were blinded by loyalty."

"I'm sorry about that day in the forest, you know."

She knew what day he was talking about. Memories of the past were a little clearer now. Just like the fact that this child might not be Tamlin's.

Rhys.

Thinking that she had forgotten him like some sort of bad memory made Feyre grimace. A part of her wanted Lucien to take her to her mate, even though she'd probably only have a few months with him at best before…

Looking at Lucien she said, "I need you to take my child when this is over."

"What?"

"This child does not need Tamlin destroying his life like he destroyed mine. And you know Tamlin will stop at nothing to get his hands on him. And if he finds out…if he's not Tamlin's like I suspect."

"He'll kill him." Lucien said with a resigned sigh.

"You do realize what you're asking me to do is likely going to get me killed."

"You're already putting your life at risk," Feyre pointed out. "I'm sure by now Tamlin has a price on your head for taking his bride away. If he does find out it's you."

"I can't take the child to him though Feyre. It's too big of a risk."

By him, she knew Rhys. And unfortunately she agreed. "I know, but there has to be some way to keep the child safe. A way from this mess. And he would understand, I know he'd do the same thing."

Lucien frowned, "I…there might be something. But if I attempt to do this, just know that there might be a way the babe cannot return to this world."
"World?"

"Hybren isn't the only one thirsty for power." Lucien said, "Beron had his own quests once upon a time. The point is, I know how to access another world. I can make sure your child has a good life. If that's what you want."

Feyre nodded, "More than anything."

"Than it will be done." Lucien said, "Mother, help me, how I'll accomplish it. But it will be done."

Feyre was in labor sooner than she hoped. Unfortunately, like everything else in her life, it was done at a very inconvenient time.

Hybren apparently was making his move and attacking the Night Court per Lucien or at least that was what Feyre had managed to get out of him.

"Tamlin sanctioned it?" She asked.

Lucien rolled his eyes, "Of course, he sanctioned it. He thinks Rhys has taken you again. As I told you, I made sure I had a decoy. Besides, it's not like Hybren really gives a rat's ass what Tamlin thinks."

He had a point there. Tamlin was just a pawn of Hybren's nothing more.

"I told him not to make an alliance with him," Lucien said. "But he was insistent."

"Insistent because of me." Feyre grimaced knowing that as soon as she gave birth, there was a high chance that she would be adoring Tamlin again.

The thought of it made her want to puke.

Most things did.

It was a side effect of the antidote.

Since taking the diluted cure, Feyre had lost all of her appetite. Her belly while larger than it had been a few months ago was the only part of her that was large. She was merely living off of nutrient potions alone at this point.

"I hate this," She said, "My people shouldn't have to suffer because of me."

"Not you. Tamlin." Lucien said. "And trust me, Rhysland was prepared."

"He's always prepared." Feyre said with a small smile as she thought of her mate. "I wish he knew about the babe, Lucien. I'm pretty sure it's his."

More than sure since she started taking the antidote, she felt the child. She felt that it was their son the one that she saw all those months ago when she visited the Bone Carver, despite what the blood binding potion that Tamlin had given her.

Lucien smiled sadly, "There's still time…if you want me too…"

"No," She said, "You promised the life your taking my child too…he'll be safe."

"He will," Lucien told her.

He hadn't told her much of where he had planned to take her child. Only that he had found a family. A suitable family, whatever that meant. He had already made all the arrangements, and the family was more than willing to take in the child.

Feyre sighed heavily hating that she had to give up her child.

"They'll tell him about you, you know." He said, "I made her promise that. He will be told that his mother gave him up to protect him, he'll know about you."

"What about Rhys?" She said.

"Or Tamlin." He pointed out, "You and I both know the baby could be Tamlin's."

Feyre blanched as she thought about her former lover. The man, who after she gave birth, she'd undoubtedly adore again despite—well, despite everything he had done to her.

A part of her grimaced at the future that awaited her. Undoubtedly, to become a brood mare for Tamlin, to become Ianthe's doll. She didn't want any of it. She wanted Rhys, their child, she wanted to be the high lady of the Night Court.

But she didn't have that option. Not when her child's life was at risk. For his future, she'd accept the future that Tamlin wanted for her. Not that she'd really have a choice after she had the child.

"Feyre…" Lucien said.

She frowned realizing she had gotten lost in her thoughts. "I'm just thinking about afterward…how I'll be. I probably won't remember any of this. I'll probably look at him like his dewy eyed bride. It makes me sick."

"I told you I'll have Nuan keep on researching. Who knows, maybe the diluted antidote won't work like we think. Maybe you'll be cured."

She laughed. "Oh, come on, Lucien. Don't sugar coat things. Look at me. We both know that the potion is already fighting the antidote. The only reason I am even getting anything down at this point is because of the potions Nuan is feeling me with."

He sighed, "You remember more though. She says the baby…the baby's levels are a lot lower than before. In another month when you give birth, he should stand a chance."

A chance to get past what Tamlin and Ianthe put in front of him. "What if…"

"The woman I'm bringing him to," Lucien said, "Is a trained healer in their world. She knows what's going on. She should be able to help him if there's any remaining side effects."

Feyre frowned as she thought of another woman calling her son mother and what could've been when the first spasm of pain came.

It started so gradually, but then intensified. She bit her lip. It was too early and she told Lucien as much.

"It's not time yet," She hissed as she felt her water break.

Despite Feyre's pleas she was in labor. The birth itself was quick and violent. Lucien had not had time to get Nuan to the cabin. All Feyre could think throughout the labor was her son. Would she even remember seeing him and that Rhys would never see his son.

Oh, how sorry did Feyre feel for her mate. And for the first time in a long time as she pushed, she thought she could feel their bond. That bond that had been silent for so long. She pushed her thoughts through it one time telling her mate she was sorry.

Not that Rhys would know what she was sorry for, he had no idea. She had made sure of it. It was for both of their safety.

As she was thinking this another rush of pain came over her as Lucien told her to push. The pain was unbearable, but she managed to push until she heard what was the most glorious noise in the word—her child's cry.

Feyre leaned over to see Lucien holding her child. For one moment she felt relief as she smiled and her eyes met the child's eyes. From deep within her, she thought she heard someone—Rhysland—calling her name and then she knew no more.

Chapter One: We see how Feyre and Rhys's child is fairing after eleven years.