Chapter Text
Elain Archeron thought she may die.
It was the only thought ringing through her head as she tumbled through the darkness, careening through the folds of time and space as she accidentally winnowed from where she had been frightened in the Night Court. She had no clue what on earth she had been doing with her magic—only that she had desperately needed to escape the situation as if her life had depended on it. She collided roughly with the hard ground, landing in a heap against stone and dirt.
As she pushed herself up on her elbows to take in her surroundings, she winced at the sudden throbbing pain in her wrist. She scanned the area to see an unfamiliar forest, the setting sun, and the shadow of a towering figure.
Only now she realized her actions may very well have brought her to something far more dangerous.
She was in the Spring Court, she realized. And the person standing alone in the forest, now walking like a predator over to where she lay prone on the ground was none other than Tamlin.
Elain scrambled to her knees, looking up at the haggard High Lord of Spring. He was thinner than she remembered and the dark circles under his eyes made his pine-colored eyes shine in the dusk light. Faintly, her Fae nose scented the remnants of a whiskey aroma emanating from his breath.
“What are you doing in my land?” His voice boomed over Elain and she wished she could crawl under a bush and disappear from the complicated mess she single-handedly created.
“I—I simply wish to not be found by the Night Court at this moment—” Elain stuttered, holding her hands up in an innocent plea. “I seek refuge in Spring until I can figure…something else out.”
It was the half-truth. It was never her original plan to come here—not that she had a plan at all since everything had gone to shit in the last five minutes of her life. But it would have to do for now, because the idea of Tamlin bringing her back to Velaris like a lost child to hand over to Rhysand and Feyre seemed too mortifying to allow. She hoped he wouldn’t ask any questions.
“I can help make sure you are not found by the Night Court,” Tamlin’s lips spread wide in what could only be described as a feral, cracked grin. His canines glowed in the dimming light.
Elain perked at his response, clasping her hands together in gratitude. She raised herself on her wobbly knees, casting her wide, brown eyes up at Tamlin. “Thank you, thank you. I promise my presence here won’t be a bother to your court and I won’t stay too long. I just need some time.”
“I’m sure you won’t be a bother,” Tamlin raised a lazy hand in the air, cocking his head at her. “Especially not in this form.”
Before she could even express her confusion by what he said, he flicked his wrist. A burst of magic encased her entire body, flooding her with a sensation that rivaled what she had endured in the Cauldron. Her sight went black yet again as she felt her limbs and bones stretch and contract while she was floating in the air, unable to move of her own free will. Everything as she knew it was squeezed and compressed instantly; her body was rearranged as the magic flooded and touched every inch of her essence. Elain felt herself shrink and the world around her expanded in a terrifyingly rapid succession.
As soon as it started, then it was over.
Elain landed back on her feet.
Well, her four feet to be exact.
She would have screamed if she only could. Elain looked down in horror as she saw two dainty, white paws in her line of vision. Her racing, thundering heart felt like it took up the entire space of her chest. Her entire body was covered in white and light brown fur. When she recoiled back, she felt her nose twitch along with her long whiskers. Whipping her head around, she took in the rest of her body, noticing a long and fluffy light brown tail swishing behind her.
Holy gods. She was a fucking cat.
She looked back up to demand an explanation from Tamlin, but he was gone.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Elain said to herself, only it came out as a low wailing sound. She couldn’t even understand herself speaking. No words. Just stupid, little meows.
When there was no one else to hear her cries, it dawned on Elain just how precarious the situation was for her. What was she to do now? She was lost. Totally, utterly, and pathetically lost in a foreign court in an even more foreign body. Her small body trembled—everything felt massive around her. From the trees that felt like giants, to the rocks that were now boulders, and to whatever lurked within the fading light…she felt an awful, queasy dread in her stomach.
A branch snapped behind her.
Elain tried to spin around but tripped up on coordinating her four limbs. It wouldn’t matter, because she heard the growl before she even caught a glimpse.
A wolf prowled through the tree line.
For the second time that evening, Elain thought she might die.
They stared at each other as her heart beat loudly. Prey. She was his prey. She was actually his prey. All of her muscles were frozen and pinned in place as they stared down at each other—then she saw his front leg move just a hairsbreadth.
With swift reflexes she had never possessed before, she began running.
Elain stumbled at first as she had to figure out how to maneuver her brand-new body. She had injured her left wrist when she had winnowed and that pain was translating to her front left paw that sent shooting pains with every step she took. More branches snapped as her feline ears picked up on the sound of the wolf launching into a chase behind her.
If she could cry, she would have been sobbing. She had to instead direct every ounce of fear and despair into her escape, even if it felt as though her little heart would explode from the exertion. She was fast and agile, but she doubted it would be enough. The snarls and snaps of the wolf’s jowls were closing in behind her as his powerful paws ripped into the earth. Is this how she would meet her end? And no one would ever be the wiser that this was how it happened. Forced into another body against her will, she wouldn’t even have the dignity to die as Elain Archeron.
A taut, sharp pain in her chest sent her sprinting in another direction.
Her vision was nowhere near the same in this form. The colors were muted and the horizon was blurry. But she spotted a hollow opening in a tree trunk and dashed to safety as fast as she could.
She curled into a tight ball and shut her eyes as she prepared to meet her end.
Except—those teeth and claws never found her.
From inside the trunk she couldn’t see what was happening, but she heard a scuffle of feet. The wolf growled, only to be met with a deeper, more ferocious growl. Elain realized someone else was there. Another predator? A larger, possibly scarier one knowing her luck. There was a crackle and her nose detected the smell of fire, which made the wolf whimper.
“Get out of here!” A warm voice shouted.
Elain wrenched her eyes open. That wasn’t an animal. A pair of leather boots appeared in the opening. A part of her wondered if Tamlin had returned to help or even torment her further. But then the voice spoke again. “Are you alright in there?”
Wait a second.
She knew that voice. She’d know that voice from anywhere.
Oh gods. Oh gods.
“Hello there, Little Lady,” Lucien said as he crouched down and peered into the tree. “You’re safe now.”
His unmistakable face came into view. Lucien’s mismatched orbs found her shaking as she had pressed herself into the furthest crevice of the hollowed-out trunk. His golden eye whirred as a gentle smile formed on his full lips. As her sight was altered in her cat state, the red hues of his hair and his tan skin appeared more like gleaming shades of gold.
“You don’t look like you’re meant for the woods. Why don’t you come home with me tonight?”
Lucien’s broad hand reached inside and suddenly she was being pulled out. Her world went dizzy momentarily until he settled her against his firm chest. Everything swayed around her. He was cradling her, she realized. Oh, this would not do. No, no, no.
“Lucien! It’s me, Elain! Stop it—stop it right now!” She squirmed and wiggled in his arms, meowing frantically for his attention.
He was her so-called mate after all. Surely he’d be able to understand her?
“Now, now, that’s no way to thank me, Little Lady.” Lucien chuckled at her misfortune and she wondered when the hell she would finally wake up from this absurd dream. Nope. Of course, he didn’t understand her.
He stroked the top of her head with his thumb. They had barely spoken beyond stilted conversations and polite greetings. Now he was petting her affectionately. Petting her! It was patronizing. Something indignant boiled in her stomach.
”Let’s get you cleaned up back in the manor,” he scratched behind her ears and then returned to cradling her. The Spring Court manor—that was the answer!
Tamlin would be in the manor. She needed to find Tamlin to change back. And Lucien was the only way she’d survive and get into the manor. Perhaps she could find a way to communicate with him and then he would help her. She didn’t know him very well, but something in her heart had always known she could trust him.
“You have to help me Lucien or I swear I’ll find a way to ruin your life, even as a cat.” Elain meowed at him.
“You’re very mouthy,” he said to her with a bemused look.
As he carried her into the manor, Elain thought for the third time that night she might very well die—only this time it would be from the mortification of being squished against her mate’s chiseled chest.