Acotar and Tog [Discontinued, Will be deleted]

Trust Me

She can’t read… I realized, holding back a gasp of surprise. She hadn’t been paralyzed with fear of the blades at her head or the screams from Lucien. No, Feyre was freaking out because she was doomed to fail this trial from the start! And Amarantha did not know, she couldn’t have or this would be taking a far worse turn than it had.

Slowly with each word she tried and failed to read, I felt Feyre give up. My stomach dropped as her focus on the words stopped entirely and turned towards Tamlin, Tamlin standing on the edges of the pit watching her with no love or real emotion in his eyes. Even Lucien had cried out to save Feyre from the Middengard Wyrm. What had Tamlin offered her in the way of help beyond his mere existence? And now Feyre stood thinking of him, wishing to say her goodbyes because she knew she would die and wanted him to be her last thought.

I gutted me. I was drenched with anger and grief all over again, my now constant companions.

“Just pick one!” Lucien shouted. The spiked blades were close, too close. She had to choose or it would really be over. I looked at Tamlin and gave him half a second to do something - anything that might help Feyre win and when he remained inert, I acted without hesitation as Feyre’s hand made to pull the middle lever.

A wave of intense pain coursed through the bond between us, a bond Feyre hadn’t yet realized we shared. Her hand jerked back and I wondered if Amarantha would notice as Feyre looked at the narrowing eye staring up at her from her palm. Confused, she tried to reach the first lever and again, I sent pain coursing down the bond. But when she touched upon the third lever - the one I knew would save her - I gave her a silent approval.

Her head darted up at the silence, her eyes rushing to find me through the grate that had lowered enough to separate us physically now and she found me with stars in my eyes waiting for her.

That’s right, I thought to myself. Me. If Tamlin won’t be your rock in this, I will.

She continued to stare at me as she tried the first lever again and I doused her in more pain. I grew bored on my face, letting her see my ruse and I knew she understood.

“Feyre, please!” Lucien moaned against the backdrop of his smirking, snarling brothers who delighted in his pain. His parents were noticeably absent. In my heart, I pitied him, maybe for the first time ever.

And then all was silent.

Feyre stood, the third lever lowered before her, as the chandelier spikes retreated. I meant to release my held breath, relieved and proud that she had trusted me enough to survive, but then I saw Feyre collapse in a heaping puddle on the ground, tears spilling over her face.

No, no, no, no, no, no!

I crossed my arms, clenching my fists whilst trying to maintain my dull expression even as my heart ached for her. She couldn’t falter now. If Amarantha saw her weakness coming out of that pit, we’d be doomed. Whatever cruel words she would say to Feyre if she realized she was on the verge of cracking could be enough to undo her.

And again, Tamlin did nothing.

Don’t let her see you cry, I said into the bond. It was a command, not a request, meant to inspire, not to soothe. Put your hands at your sides and stand up.

Feyre didn’t budge and it took every ounce of restraint in me not to jump into the pit and pull her up myself.

Stand. Don’t give her the satisfaction of seeing you break.

I said it mercilessly knowing how unrelenting my voice in her mind must sound to her, but it worked. Slowly, she stood and managed to turn with a clean face towards Amarantha just as the floor put her back on our level.