CARDIGAN, acotar ¹

chapter fifteen

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

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BY REQUEST, DAHLIA had left her books about the types of faerie in prythian on her bedside table, along with a steaming tea pot of chamomile tea. the moon had just rose when she began reading. so far, she had read about the high fae, who were made specifically to be the rulers of all faeries, and some races of the lower fae — like the naga, wraiths, and the bogge.

she had just flipped the page, her gaze skimming the title the illyrians, the warrior race, when she heard shouts from downstairs — followed by screams.

carson was out of her bed in a heartbeat. the screams were coming from downstairs, yet she ran to feyre's room first, throwing open the door. her gaze locked on her sister, who'd clearly just woken, because she was panting and wild-eyed.

"what is that?" feyre breathed.

"stay here," was all carson said before she was moving again. she headed back for her room, only to grab eris's blade that she had kept hidden underneath the bed for weeks now. her footsteps were swift and lethal as she trailed down the grand staircase, just moments before the front doors of the manor were viciously thrown open.

tamlin rushed in. a screaming faerie slung over his shoulder.

carson's eyes went wide.

the faerie was almost as big as tamlin, yet he showed no sign of struggle as he carried him in. he was another species of the lesser faeries, with his paling blow skin, gangly limbs, and long onyx hair. but the blood gushing down his back shone out more than anything, glinting like a beacon against the night.

someone shoved into her from behind — cecelia. only a silk nightgown covered her decency, but it was the last thing on her mind as she raced for tamlin.

"what happened?" she demanded, immediately studying the blood coming from the black stumps protruding from his shoulder blades. wings — wings were supposed to be there. those golden shadows appeared from nowhere, gathering on the wounds — as if attempting to fix what it could.

"scouts found him dumped just over the borderline," tamlin explained, but then his eyes darted upward. he glanced at carson — then behind her. carson turned, finding feyre watching at the top of the stairs.

lucien rushed into the foyer below, just as tamlin shouted,  "the table — clear it off!" he wasted no time shoving the vase of flowers off the long table in the center of the hall. the faerie shrieked as tamlin eased him face-first onto the table.

"he's summer court," tamlin added to lucien.

"by the cauldron," lucien breathed, surveying the damage.

carson didn't realize she had moved until she could see the trickle of sweat bedding at cecelia's temple as she focused. she wasn't good at healing other people, carson remembered cecelia telling her that. but after the encounter with the bogge, she had been slowly training herself to try.