THE GREAT PRETENDER ¬ ACOTAR

chapter xxvi.

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CHAPTER XXVI

YOU HESITATED

THEY WAITED for Rhys and Feyre to come back from the Bone Carver. Vik leaning by the fireplace and Cal on the couch with Cassian's burly legs on her lap. She tried pushing it off her but he kept on putting it back so in the end she just gave up in trying.

When they finally came back, Callaghan listened intently at their comments and plans, thinking of ideas she could suggest to the group.

When the talk about the Book of Breathings came up, her ears perked, ready to volunteer. But then again, Rhys had a plan of his own and that plan needed Feyre to visit the Weaver. "Are you sure that's a good plan, Rhys?" Her brows were furrowed at her High Lord.

As usual Rhysand ignored her, turning to the others. He raised a hand when Cassian opened his mouth, "The test will be to see if Feyre can identify the object of mine in the Weaver's trove. When we get to the Summer Court, Tarquin might have spelled his half of the Book to look different, feel different."

Mor snaps at her cousin, "By the Cauldron, Rhys. Are you out of your —"

"Who's the Weaver?" Feyre pushed.

"An ancient, wicked creature who should remain unbothered," Azriel said, "Find another way to test her abilities."

Callaghan agreed with Azriel, "If you want something back, I'll get it for you. Feyre doesn't have to do it."

"Last time I checked, Cal," Rhys turned to her, "You don't have the power of the Seven High Lords."

That shut her up. She had to grip on Cassian's ankles to prevent herself from lashing out. A slight cold feeling pooled around her legs, light shadows encircling it. One look from Azriel had her reconsider talking back to Rhys.

Rhysand looks at Feyre, giving her a choice — though she didn't directly say it, she agreed to the plan. Also agreeing to make her an Emissary to the Night Court.

Vik watched Callaghan during the whole ordeal. His sister just frowned the entire time. He could tell she wasn't a big fan of the plans.

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CALLAGHAN KNEW Rhys wanted to leave before the sun came up so she had told Feyre a few notes on how to keep her feet light and free of sound. Being a huntress, Feyre had knowledge of those things, but Cal was a spy. Sneaking around and going undetected was her forte.

"Keep your steps as light as possible," she demonstrated to Feyre, "Place your weight on the balls of your feet to have balance and control."

Cal squats down and taps on the floors, "Watch out for creaky wood. One sound from that can ruin everything. Got it?"

The Cursebreaker nods in understanding, making Cal smile at her, "You'll be fine, Feyre. I'll skin Rhys alive if you get hurt."

While she was with Feyre, Cassian had been off with Rhys, trying to convince him not to continue on with the plan involving the Weaver. If he wasn't his High Lord, he would have punched him in the face, but if it was Callaghan in his place, she definitely would punch Rhysand in his perfect face. 

The spy breathed out as she felt the soft winds on her face while she stood on the ledge of the balcony, overlooking the city. She savored the feeling of the winds. The coolness always brought her great tranquility. It helps clear her mind most of the time.

"If you can fly, go ahead and jump," his voice was light, with a hint of concern littered in it, "But you can't, so I suggest you come down."

She raised a brow, "Scared that I'll drop dead?"

He only answered after a breath, "No."

"You hesitated," she smiled, then stepped off.

Without a second thought, Azriel followed her down. Diving into the air as she fell. Just when he was about to grab her, she vanished. Appearing on the ground safely with her hands on her hips as she waited for him to come down.

The shadowsinger sighs as he lands beside her, "I can't believe I fell for that."

"You got scared, didn't you?"

"I did," he said quietly. Callaghan taps her ears, pretending not to hear it. "I'm not saying it again, Cal."

"If there's anything I learned from being trapped in that god-awful Mountain, it's that we don't live forever," she moves towards him, "We're immortal, but we still die. So you better spit it out if you want to say something."

Callaghan lets out a yelp when he pulls her by the waist and shoots up in the air. Azriel still didn't have the guts to say anything so he just brought her to the skies.

The female wrapped her arms around his neck, "As much as I love your flying, give a little warning next time."

"Not a chance," he smiled, "I like it when you scream."

Her eyes widened, "You fucking bastard, I hate you."

"No, you don't."

"I do," she lays her head on his shoulder, "I really do."

After a second, she feels him rest his head on hers. Once again, he has her feel safe in his arms. Her eyes closed in bliss, "I like this. Just us and the stars. Like there's no problems in the world."

"We can do this every night if you'd like?"

She sighs, "I can't ask that of you, dearest. This is enough. Being with you is enough."

Azriel didn't know what to reply so he just said, "Rest, My light. The sun will rise soon."

The shadowsinger didn't know how long they were in the air but when he looked at Cal, she was sleeping peacefully in his arms. As he looked at her, she seemed to glow under the starlight. Like she was one of the stars herself.

Maybe she was, or is.

Maybe she was one of those that fell from the sky.

Maybe she was something else.

Azriel wasn't sure.

"Sleep well, Cal."

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