!!!WARNING!!! Like always I am putting a warning at the beginning of chapters that deal with harsh and dark topics that may be sensitive to others. I apologize if anything in this book offends you but I'm writing this the way I want to. There will be indicators at the beginning and end of the scenes that need a trigger warning.
Your POV~
My reflection stared back at me, and much like the night of Starfall I was picking and poking at my insecurities. My stomach -not as naturally flat as some females- hip dips, stretch marks, scars, you name it I was judging it. It was an effort not to revert to my old ways, to lock myself up and spiral into a deep, dark hole of emotions. But the dress was magnificent. A piece I had picked out at the Palace of Thread and Jewels courtesy of a woman whose face reminded me of my Mom. The gown itself was black at the bodice - semi-sweetheart style- and formed an elegant gradient to a deep, navy blue. There was a filmy, sheer fabric over it all, reminiscent of the wings of so many fae I had seen in the streets. Accompanying it all, bringing all the colors together, was a delicate silver necklace. It felt like an insult to the dress, and therefore the dressmaker, to see myself as ugly while it was on my body.
The difference between the night of Starfall and this moment is that I had Arlys to help me through my thoughts. The wraith-like being fluffing the train of the gown to flow around me. He had become a constant now that my reserve is as it once had been. Now actually eating and putting in the effort to become whole again, he has become a dear friend. Yet, I had made no effort summoning another spy, for fear of depleting the magic I put into him.
"Stop prodding at yourself, Mistress. The only good it'll do is crumble what had been rebuilt." Even though Arlys was a part of me, of my power, he never felt like it. It was like he was a completely different being solely here because my power allowed him to be. Where I was negative and distrustful, he was always thinking positively, always trusting everyone he talks to. He reminded me of a child at times. Especially when he is taking in the wonders of the world. The day we were walking around Velaris for ingredients, his eyes were constantly wide, taking everything in, yet silent. As if the mere thought of speaking would disrupt the wonder. He hadn't said anything about his experience but I know, the same way he knows, that we both enjoyed being outside.
Yet in times like this, he reminds me of a mother doting on her child. "I know. I know." I chuckle at his serious expression.
"Cassian is waiting in the living room. We should head down." Arlys commented as he fiddled with a hair that came out of place. He had done it the exact way I imagined it and I couldn't thank him enough. With one last look in the mirror, I saw the woman I once was. My muscles were coming back and I was putting on the weight I needed. I found that I quite liked the way I looked in this moment, done up and glowing with anticipation. There was still so much more to do to get me back on track, but my old self was shining through again.
Cassian stood in the living room, staring out of the window and into the night sky. He was dressed in his usual flying leathers and his hair was tied in his normal half updo, but there was an air of elegance around him.
Making my steps audible, I walk towards the front door. "You ready?"
"I was born ready." He grinned and followed me out of the door.
Cold night air sunk into my skin and nestled into my bones, effectively putting a damper on my mood. It wasn't the cold of the Illyrian mountains, but the memory of it was still etched into my skin. Sleepless nights shivering close to my mother for any scrap of heat, frozen hands, and cold feet. A shiver crept up my spine at the memory and I saw it do the same to Cassian. We glanced at each other with a reassuring look.
We made it out.
We are free.
With a deep breath, Cassian had me in his arms and flying straight towards The House of Wind. It was a shame I didn't get to fly myself but the beauty of the dress and the effort Arlys put into my hair was a good enough excuse that I didn't complain. As we flew across the sky of Velaris, I let Arlys fly alongside us so he could see what the world looked like from above. His face was priceless, wide-eyed as he took in the buildings below, still bustling with movement. He turned his head to the cloudless sky and a grin plastered itself onto his face. Despite the glow of Velaris and its buildings, the sky was still an alluring mass of stars and inky darkness. Like it swallowed up any source of light and put it into each and every star.
Cassian let out a roaring cackle at the sight of Arlys taking everything in, yet the being ignored him and kept his gaze on the stars. All too soon we arrived at The House of Wind and my anxiety made an appearance.
"Hey, hey, hey." Cassian started, placing me down and letting Arlys fix my dress. "It's going to be okay. But if things get too much and you feel like you're about to implode, tell me and we will leave."
I took in a deep breath, settling my fears and calming my nerves. It took a while before they were calm and I was ready to enter.
Like it always had, The House of Wind was filled will people and the mingling scents of magnificent foods. Cassian, Arlys, and I walked into the main dining room where the laughter and scents wafted in. It was the usual people in the Inner Circle excluding Azriel and including two new females. Their scents were similar to Feyre's and I had guessed these were the sisters she mentioned to Tamlin.
As we walked to the tables and sat at our seats, Mor to my left and Cassian to my right, I let Arlys roam the building and expand his knowledge of the place. I could feel his excitement at meeting new people and exploring a new place.
Mor looked to me, nothing of the events shined in her eyes as she took my hand in hers. "We are so glad to have you back."
Before I could respond with my own relief, I was interrupted by one of Feyre's sisters. The cold hard look in her eyes was enough to make even a grown man run. "And who are you? Another one of Cassian's bitches?"
The shock and sting of her words baffled me enough so that no response came. Where once I would retort with my own knife-sharp attitude, nothing but emptiness remained. The others stared at her in shock, Feyre chastizing her sister with a hissed curse of her name.
Nesta, I learned, just stared at me with unmoving eyes. Awaiting my response. I reeled myself back, knowing that Cassian was going to say something if I didn't first.
I try my best imitation of the girl I became in the camp. Steeling my nerves and stomping down on fear, I give her my own leveling look. "I am not, and will never be anyone's bitch." Sensing the sudden change in mood, Arlys appeared behind me and waited for a command. Shadows that had the potential to become like Arlys writhed over my skin, across my wings, and into the air around me.
Rhysand cleared his throat, likely noting the rising threat in the air, "She is Cassian's cousin."
"And why is she dining with us tonight?" Everything about this woman screamed frosty. Her posture, her glare, the way she looks at me down her nose. She looked so elegant until she opened her mouth.
"That story is not yours to hear." Hissed Cassian. I placed my hands under my thighs to control the shaking and hide the fear from the witch in front of me.
Nesta looked to me, her blue-grey eyes narrowing as her nostrils flared. She took a whiff, scenting me and whatever was radiating from my body. I hoped to the forgotten gods she didn't scent my fear.
She straightened, my presence was no longer interesting to her. "You smell like the other batboy."
The whole table stiffened, likely waiting for the moment I would shatter. I did too. Feeling for any crack in my resolve, anything to undo the weeks of work. Nothing was there. The mere mention of his name was enough to send my heart scattering but tonight, my heart was caged in ash wood. Taking advantage of the temporary iron-like armor that covered my soul, I let the shadows around me curl ever so slowly towards the icy sister. I scent her hesitation, a hint of regret, but more than anything I smell her anger. At me for being another person to deal with, at the world for wronging her, at everything.
Once a tendril of darkness was a few inches from her stone-like face, I snap them back to me. The only shadow in the room now was Arlys, still standing behind me as passive as ever. "And you smell like someone who-"
"Enough," Cassian whispered, most likely knowing where I would go, hitting her where it hurts the most. I notice that I started to stand and I sat back down, my eyes never leaving Nesta's.
"You should leave Nesta. This dinner is for Y/N." Feyre commanded, her voice just as frigid as her sister's.
Nesta stood up, sending the chair flying behind her. The smaller one, the one that resembled a frightened animal where her sister resembled a roaring beast, flinched. Automatically I sent her a comforting glance, trying to soothe whatever her sister had brought up. Knowing all too well that gleam in her eyes. So similar to her sisters' but kinder, emptier.
"Do not look at her!" Nesta yelled.
My body reacted to the feral snarl that ripped itself from Nesta's throat. All too fast memories of soldiers screaming at each other, at my mother, at me. I closed my eyes and willed the memories away but they were too strong. The sound of hatred was too familiar in Nesta's voice. One second I was getting yelled at by an unfathomable beast, the next, I was on my back. Pinned for all to see.
______TW_____
"Do not look at her!" Yelled a male. My mother was in the back of the crowd, screaming at them to stop, to get away. But they didn't. My wings were pinned painfully to the ground by his rough hands.
"She can do nothing to stop this." He whispered in my ear, his breath hot and grotesque enough to make me gag on the spot. I was sobbing, my throat was burning from my screams. But no one stepped in to stop it. They all watched, intent on my suffering being their entertainment for the evening. All the females looked away, knowing what was being dealt to me.
Punishment. I scoff at the man who thought this was punishment. Especially if the punishment is because I made one mistake. But here, one mistake is all it takes.
My mother cried again, clawing her way to the front of the crowd. She fell to her knees, knowing she can do nothing to stop this. But she tried. And ended up restrained. The hatred for these males bubbled up in a roar. Thrashing wouldn't do anything.
A writhing-like sensation slithered under my skin. An unknown source forced its way out of my body and impaled the man on top of me. His blood sprayed onto my face and into my mouth. It was everywhere.
I watch as the light in his eyes dies out. Once bright with malicious intent now dull with surprise. It didn't register to me that he was dead until I was thrown into a cell for a week. No food. Just water, enough to keep me alive, to keep me suffering.
_____TW over_____
Panicked breaths forced themselves out of my lungs in short bursts. The hands gripped n my shoulders, Cassian's hands, felt too much like the soldiers. I look around, no longer on the muddy ground facing the sky, but in a room full of concerned people.
Nesta was gone, her anger still lingering. Cassian was shaking me slightly, trying to bring me back into reality.
"Y/N?" Feyre asks, her voice low like she was talking to a frightened animal that would attack any moment. I look at her slowly, my neck too stiff to move properly. Everything was too stiff.
"Are you ok?" Cassian's hands leave my shoulders but he stays close. I take some breaths, the breathing exercises Cassian had taught me, and calmed my panic. Once I was no longer breathing erratically and my hands had stopped shaking altogether, I answered.
"I'm sorry." My voice came out in a croak.
"Please don't apologize Y/N," Feyre said as she moved closer and embraced me, the hug awkward due to my sitting position. "We are here for you."
I look at each of them in the eyes. Purple, hazel, and shades of blue meet mine. They didn't harbor any pity, no judgment, and I knew then, that I wanted these people to be my family. "Thank you." I choked.
The dinner continued without any incident, concerned stares and light-hearted banter were the only things present. We ate and laughed until the late hours of the night. But all talking ceased when one female cleared her throat.
Elain looked at me, her eyes still dull and empty, and placed her hands nervously on her lap. "I had, I had a vision about you." She confessed. I could tell this was something new when Feyre whipped her head to me and Mor let out a feminine gasp.
"What happened?" I asked, not knowing what she meant by vision but from the reaction of the others, I knew it was important.
Elain's eyes darted around the room revealing more of her nerves. Everyone diligently looked to their plates, absentmindedly moving food around and waiting for her to continue.
"It started with pain. And darkness. But it was all coated in an array of colors so vibrant all I can do was wonder who was hurting so bad. But then it morphed into happiness so grand I fell to my knees. I didn't see your face, but I did see a recurring color. The same shade and hue as your eyes. I knew, in this vision, that this person would bring our family together again. Mend the broken parts and wipe away the stains. When you came in tonight I wasn't sure you were the one. But when you and Nesta were talking, I felt you. Where ever you went it was the same intensity I felt at the beginning. Then," She looked down, shying away from the awed expression on all of us. "When I saw how well you fit in, I finally knew what my vision was telling me."
We all leaned in, waiting for her to finish her sentence. My ass is on the edge of my seat and I brace my hands on the table so I wouldn't fall.
"You belong here." Her voice was like wind chimes twinkling in the summer breeze. She was by far the kindest being I have ever come across, even with all the trauma that had been dealt upon her. Before any one of us could respond, she scurried away with the excuse of being tired.
All of us stayed silent long after she had gone, our plates and wine glasses are forgotten as we let what she said sink in.
Feyre was the first to speak up. "She never told me she had that vision."
"That was the most I have ever heard her speak." Rhysand reveled.
Feeling something slide down my face, I lift my hand to wipe it away. There was a clear liquid on my fingertip and I realized I started crying. Silent, unfamiliar tears fell freely down my face and dampened my chest. As I come to realize this, my face crumples and I let out a strangled sound.
No one had once told me I belonged somewhere. Not even my mother. She knew I wasn't supposed to be in a camp. No one did. But as Elain spoke, the ash wood cage that had clamped around my heart burned away and left the organ pumping wildly.
I vaguely register the sobs violently spewing from my mouth as her words rang over and over in my head. Louder than the roaring in my veins, louder than the pumping of my heart, louder than the comforting words of the people around me.
A/N-
I forgot to mention in previous chapters that none of the images I use are not mine. I just get them off of google.