𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 (Book 2)

Ninety-Nine

The soft pat of my foot on the tallest step of the stairs drew her attention and her wary eyes slid to me. As if on instinct, Feyre's spine straightened and her hesitant manner disappeared as though it were never there at all.

"Hi." she said.

"Hi." I said.

Silence consumed us as I very slowly descended the stairs, stopping a good few feet away from her as I reached the bottom.

She looked like a statue. Frozen in place with her limbs locked up and tense. "Hi." she said again.

I arched a brow, "Is 'hi' all you know how to say these days?"

She exhaled, shaking her head a fraction. "No." Feyre breathed, looking up again her blue eyes that used to be so familiar, now like a strangers. Maybe they had been for a very long time. Maybe since Under the Mountain. "Can we talk?" she asked.

I stared at her for a long moment, my mind ringing with the same words. The one I had asked just before she had told me how she truly felt about me. I wondered if she remembered it like I did.

But it was my last day in Velaris. And maybe it was just me being selfish but I didn't want to leave without hearing whatever it was she had come to say.

I inclined my chin down the hall, "I'll make tea." I said, my voice no more than stone as I began walking again.

I had become a tea fanatic these days. Tea day and night. I dreamt about tea, even.

My steps were slightly hurried as I waltzed down the hall, silence acting as a blanket over my sister and I. An awkward, all consuming silence that made my skin crawl.

I turned into the kitchen quickly, gesturing a hand toward the island where I had sat with Rhys just hours ago. I busied myself, grabbing the kettle and filling it with water in the hopes that the motions would distract me from the tense air between Feyre and I.

It was only after I had set the pot on the stove did I turn to meet my sister's eyes again. Feyre sat at the table , her hands clasped together as she stared at her palms. Studying them as though they held stories. Answers. Truths.

Blue eyes looked up. Sad and regretful before that emotion washed away into sorrow. Feyre's eyes shut for a moment, opening her mouth and then shutting it as she formed whatever words she was dreading to say. "I...I don't know how to start."

I looked away, crossing my arms in a fluid motion as I leaned against the counter. "Then start with why you're here." I didn't realize my words held a bite until they had escaped my mouth. Maybe I was still a bit bitter.

Feyre took it, merely sighing a breath. "I...can't leave on bad terms. I don't want us to leave while mad. Not with Hybern getting closer. Or the Flame..."

I closed my eyes for a moment, my hands clenching where I held the counter top. "It wasn't my choice to be mad at all." I said almost desperately.

"You're right." she said, "And I make no excuses for my actions. But, after Tamlin...I was hurt. He never really showed me who he really was, I had an image of him in mind. One he manipulated me to believe. And after finding out you had a secret identity, I guess...it reminded me of that."

Finally, something I understood.

"I don't mean to justify what I said to you. I was awful. But I want you to understand why I acted that way."

It wasn't truly her words I cared about. But the doubt. The hatred I saw in her eyes that day. The resentment. The thought of her believing me to be so selfish; a cruel liar. It hurt me. Branded me. Cut me.