Eighty-Four

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Oml guys, this song, and literally every song by the Weeknd, quite honestly embodies my oc in my original book. She literally rips out someone's heart in the second chapter🥰she's so sweet

─── · 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───

"Do you want help decoding it once we get the other half?" I questioned Amren, lingering at the threshold of her apartment as I looked at her in front of many scattered papers.

She owned the top floor of a three-story building, the sloped ceiling ending with massive windows on each end. One looked out at the roaring Sidra, the other a tree-lined city square. The entire apartment consisted of one giant room.

Only her bed, a four-poster monstrosity of canopied gossamer, seemed set in a permanent place against the wall. There was no kitchen, only a long dining table. A burning hearth lay on the far side of the room, burning hot enough to make the room near stifling.

Seated on the floor before a low-lying table scattered with papers, Amren looked up from the gleaming metal book. Her face was paler than usual, "Possibly. Although I have no doubt, you will be dealing with something else regarding the war once we retrieve the other half." She said, her eyes returning to the Book. "It's been a long while since I've read this language—when speaking, I am fluent. But I want to master the language again before tackling the Book. Hopefully, by then the haughty queens will have given us their share."

I raised my brows just slightly, inviting myself in as I walked to the dining room table. "And how long do you think relearning it will take?"

"Didn't his darkness fill you in?" She questioned.

I had fallen back asleep after...I'd snuck out. I'd woken up again to a note on my bedside table.

Thank you—for last night, was all it had said. No pen to write a response.

I blamed my lingering guilt for leaving his room before sunrise which made me go search for a pen and write back.

I was curious anyway, What does the star and mountain tattoo on your knees mean? I questioned.

The paper vanished a heartbeat later. When it hadn't returned, I had dressed and gone to Feyre, a large mistake on my part, I admit. I came back once Cassian had taken me back to the townhouse, neatly folded and in pristine—lint-less and dust-less condition, not surprising at all granted Rhys thought there was lint and dust on everything and likely cleaned the paper.

That I will bow before no one and nothing but my crown, the note had read back.

This time a pen had appeared. I'd simply written back the thing that had come to mind first: You are so very dramatic. And though our bond, on the other side of my mental shields, I could have sworn I'd heard a laugh.

I popped the lid on the jar of blood, the coppery tang quickly invading the air.

For some reason, the stench of blood brought back a familiar feeling. Almost a sweet nostalgia.

Gods, I must have had a terrible childhood if the scent of blood brought back fond memories.

Amren sniffed and whipped her head to me and the pints. "You—oh, I like you."

"I should hope so."

She scrambled up from the floor, rushing to the blood as though it were the greatest wonder in the world. I watched as she clutched the jar with both hands and brought it to her lips, chugging the blood like water.

She drank half in one go. A trickle of blood ran down her chin, and she let it drip onto her gay shirt without a care. Smacking her lips, she set the jar on the table with a sigh, "Thank you."

A pop of color to the left caught my attention, and I turned my head just slightly. Raising a brow at the blood ruby being used as a paperweight when I did. "I take it Rhys convinced you not to destroy Adriata?"

Amren's eyes flicked up, full of storms and lightning. "He did no such thing. That convinced me not to destroy Adriata." she flicked a hand to her dresser.

Sprawled across lay a familiar necklace of diamonds and rubies that I'd seen in Tarquins trove. "I assume it's not from Summer Courts High Lord?" I prompted, knowing full well who was most likely to send it.

She shifted in her seat, smiling to herself. "Varian sent it to me. To soften Tarquins declaration of our blood feud."

I smirked, "You and Varian, eh?"

"Tempting. But no. The prick can't decide if he hates me or wants me."

"Can't it be both?"

A low chuckle. "Indeed."

─── · 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───

A/N: BROTPPPP

𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 (Book 2)Όπου ζουν οι ιστορίες. Ανακάλυψε τώρα