Game of Prythian

Chapter Four

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Kana's POV: 

I sat on the edge of the bed where Feyre was laying. I ran a cold cloth over her head. The fever hasn't broken yet. It took three weeks to visit all the dead's families.

Feyre's legion took such heavy hits it took them four weeks to get everyone back in one piece. Or what pieces were left of them. I sighed at the thought. Matt had pulled through in the end. Regina watched over him like a hawk.

I was the only one who had realized her protectiveness though. That protectiveness came with a reason. One that was not so easily seen. I suppose the reason I knew was because I'm a 'Ghost-singer.'

I sighed and set the cloth in the bowl of water I was using. I laid down next to Feyre , shielding her in a way a mother would her daughter. The way our mother should have shielded us.

I dozed off shielding Feyre from the door a person might burst through. Awakening hours later, realizing what I had done. Feyre stirred. The whole fae community thought she was dead. And Amarantha was pushing us harder than ever.

Nesta held her off well. Elain was busy at all hours and barely had time for her own fiance. I could see the tension between her and Graysen. They needed a few weeks away. Sitting up, my hand went for the cold water. It was room temperature. I gritted my teeth.

I didn't have the bone knife on me at the moment. I ground my lips together and made the water cold again. When I appeared as Reaper, I was bed ridden for days. Sometimes weeks afterward.

Feyre shifted again and I knew she would wake soon. I pressed the now wet cool cloth to her forehead. The fever was just now barely breaking. I watched as her eyes finally fluttered awake.

I smiled down at her, moving the cloth away from her head. I murmured, "You gave your soldier quite a fright Feyre. I think a few swore to destroy all of Prythian if you died then."

A breathy laugh escaped her dried lips. I moved over to the dresser and poured her a glass of water. I swiftly made my way back over to my baby sister and pressed the glass to her lips. Feyre drank until half the glass remained.

She giggled as I sat the glass on the side table. She pressed her hands to her face, "All these years and you still act like our mother." Her voice was thick with pain. I laughed softly, my throat still hurting weeks later. "Perhaps I take it in pride. I know I'll never be able to bear some of my own."

The humor was swiped from the room. Feyre looked at me with the eyes of a mourning friend, "I'm sorry I didn't think about it that way."

I smiled at her, "not your fault darling. Besides, I believe you are my children in a way. It's the love that counts Feyre, never forget that. It's love that makes family not blood."

She nodded and wrapped her arms around my waist. She mumbled like a child, "Can we take a nap?" I nodded and laid back down beside her. I murmured softly, "Wake me up if you need anything." Feyre laid her head on my shoulder. We fell asleep tangled together.

I felt the steady presence of Nesta enter the room what could've been hours later. She laid on the other side of Feyre, leaving space for a missing piece. I fell asleep again.

Our missing piece entered later on. I smiled sleepily at Elain. She leaned over me and pressed a kiss to Feyre's forehead. She crawled across the bed and laid in the space between Nesta and Feyre.

We were a tangled mess of limbs and bodies. Tangled mess of memories and past pains, of grudges, and hopes, and dreams, and failures. We were a tangled mess of sisters. A tangled web of love.