Devil's Backbone ✶ Luke Castellan

𝟬𝟬𝟰 the rise of a forbidden child

     However, Feyre was forced to cut the conversation short when she looked to her left to see Percy Jackson sitting alone on a bench a few feet away from the bonfire. Feyre grew sympathetic and stared at the younger boy with a pair of sad eyes. It lasted for a few short moments before Feyre turned her attention back to Chris, and explained she would be right back. The boy nodded his head and regrouped with a few other kids from his cabin. This allowed Feyre to walk over towards Percy, a warm smile etched at the corners of her lips, and a kind look burning in her eyes as she continued to approach him.

     When Percy noticed the familiar sight of the older girl, the boy forced a sheepish grin of his own, watching as she took a seat next to him. Feyre looked around her surroundings for a moment in search for a familiar Satyr before she parted her lips to speak. "No Grover?" She questioned.

     Percy shook his head. "He had somewhere to be. Satyr stuff," He answered. The boy then shrugged his shoulders and Feyre shot him another look.

"Well, unlucky for you, you have me to keep you company," Feyre joked, and Percy couldn't resist the urge to smile again. Then he thought back to what Luke had said to him earlier that day and he was right — Feyre does have this effect on people. She could light up an entire room and bring joy into people's hearts with little to no effort. It kind of reminded him of his mom, and it made him miss her even more.

     Feyre picked up on this. She didn't know what was troubling the boy, but she didn't want to pry unless he gave her an opening to talk about whatever it was that seemed to be troubling him. So she gave the boy a gentle nudge. "So, how are you finding your first bonfire?" She asked, a glimmer of curiosity dancing around her eyes as she nodded towards the burning flames, rays of light illuminating their faces in a bright orange hue.

Percy remained silent for a moment while he looked around, nodding his head. "It's very enlightening for the most part. So you guys do this every night before a Capture the Flag game?" He then asked, lifting his gaze to meet Feyre's again.

     "Kinda..." Feyre trailed off, coming to a brief pause. "We have bonfires whenever we want but we always have one the night before a big Capture the Flag game. I mean, it's not everyday you fight your fellow campmates to the death, am I right?" She explained in a jokingly manner, her choice of words being enough to make Percy's smile falter, his expression dropping completely. "Percy, I was joking."

     Feyre's words of affirmation caused for Percy to laugh nervously, shaking his head. "Yeah. I knew that," He muttered, looking down at the ground, but Feyre wasn't convinced as she began to chuckle quietly.

The air grew stiff with silence as it began to flood the air surrounding the duo sitting together on the bench. Feyre stared longingly into the burning flames displayed in front of her eyes. There was this strange foreboding feeling that formed in the pit of her stomach, like something was making an attempt to twist her insides into knots caused by the endless motions of anxiety that poured into her bloodstream. She could only guess it was because she finally allowed it to dawn on her that she was sitting next to the boy that would be there for her when she met her end. An end she was fighting every tooth and nail to avoid.

     And most nights Feyre would have allowed that anxiety to rip her apart into two. No, she told herself. She wouldn't let her endless string of constant worrying about her future trouble her this time. Feyre wanted one night — one night where she didn't force herself to think deeply about her fate. Tonight she would live carefree and act as if the claws of death weren't digging their way into her shoulder. It was always a difficulty, but Feyre reassured herself. She would persevere and leave her worries in the dark until after the game tomorrow.