𝒜 𝒞𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑅𝑒𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝒸𝒶𝓇𝓈 | ᴀᴢʀɪᴇʟ

Bonus Chapter

Chapter 119

Arwen giggled in a song of delight, jumping on her toes as she pinned silver and blue streamers over the hearth. Her dress, a pale green, hung at an unusual length around her calves, the sleeves loose and dancing over her shoulders. The front door of the townhouse opened but the sharp click of heels assured her that Azriel hadn't returned home early. The knife in her kitchen would be finding the thin skin of her brother and Cassian's neck if they didn't pull their end.

"Oh."

Arwen grinned at Mor who stood wide-eyed at the entrance into the sitting room. Feyre smiled behind her, head tilted back to gaze over all that Arwen had spent her morning on—an elaborate arrangement of decorations that would stretch throughout the entire floor level of her home once they were done. 

"He's going to hate this," Mor said, though looked appreciative of the effort.

"I know." Arwen wrung her fingers behind her back, biting her lip as she gave a moment to think that perhaps it was too much.

Feyre loosely crossed her arms as she inspected a vase of blue roses that Arwen had bought fresh at the morning market. "It's about time that was someone brave enough to do this for him."

Arwen shrugged with a sheepish look. "I barely slept last night. I know he doesn't usually enjoy celebrations and one that's for him... But he deserves it and if it's too much, I'll kick you all on the street and let him sit alone in the shadows until he's ready for company again."

"Thanks," Mor drawled as Feyre tried to be inconspicuous as she re-arranged the blue roses in the vase. "I've always loved your hospitable nature."

"I need to get some food ready."

Feyre offered to help, leaving Mor to her own devices with the remaining portion of the house that remained undecorated. Arwen swore she saw her cousin dubiously tapping her fingers before she turned into the hall.

"Any word from Elain?" Arwen dared asked as she sweated over a mixture of dough that required all the muscle Cassian had been building on her. "And Nesta?"

Feyre nodded slowly as she dusted sugar over a batch of cookies. "They both said they'll come. Nesta has been getting along with Azriel from what Cassian has told me."

Arwen frowned at her sister. "Will I have to worry about all three of you Archeron sisters turning your eyes on my mate?" Feyre scoffed and sent her a look over the expanse of the island bench. Chuckling, Arwen added, "Azriel actually mentioned something about it. I think it's because he doesn't talk too much. That and his body. I'm not allowed to train with him anymore. Cassian thinks I get too distracted."

"Perhaps it's a good thing you don't have a mental link with him then. Rhysand likes to distract me when I'm training."

Arwen smiles with tight lips. "With images of puppies?"

"I—"

"With images of puppies?"

Feyre laughs behind her sugar-covered fingers. "Yes, with puppies. So cute and adorable."

"Good. That's what I thought."

Feyre moved the rack of cookies to the side where the rest of the plattered food had been stored before joining Arwen's side of the bench. "And how have you been? Rhys says you still don't like him going into your head."

She snorted. "Who would?" But Feyre only raised a brow. "Honestly it is such an invasion of privacy!" Feyre crossed her arms and leaned close. Arwen sunk lower into her feet, the giddiness of her secretive planning ebbing away. "Everybody here has gone through a lot and Rhys most of all. My head isn't always the best place to be... I want to keep him from that." Righting her shoulders and lifting her cheeks, she went back to kneading the dough. "Besides, I talk to Azriel. And Cassian. Rhys just gets pissy when people stop dumping things on him. He thinks if people stop telling him everything that he's not doing enough."