When The Last Petal Falls

10

The atmosphere crackled with an uneasy tension following the verbal skirmish with Nyx. His words, sharp and cutting, had sliced through her composure like a knife. Memories of her family's losses, the bitter legacy of war between their courts, echoed in her mind, fuelling a tempest of emotions that threatened to spiral out of control.

Nyx's accusations had struck deep, probing at wounds she had long kept buried beneath a façade of stoicism. The weight of her heritage felt heavier than ever, and in the presence of her enemies-turned-tutors, Bellona struggled to maintain her composure. The Night Court had welcomed her reluctantly, only because they saw an opportunity to harness her powers for their own ends—to mould her into a weapon against her own kind.

Across the table, Nyx's eyes flickered with a mixture of defiance and concern, his earlier outburst now replaced by an uneasy silence. Bellona knew she should have expected hostility, but the rawness of Nyx's attack had caught her off guard. She clutched the stem of her wineglass tightly, her knuckles white with tension, as she fought to rein in the torrent of emotions threatening to spill over.The other guests at the table exchanged cautious glances, acutely aware of the fragile truce that had been shattered. Feyre, sitting at the head of the table, cleared her throat, her voice calm but tinged with unease. "Perhaps we should all take a moment to breathe," she suggested softly, her blue eyes flicking between Nyx and Bellona.

Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court, leaned forward slightly, his expression inscrutable yet watchful. "Nyx, perhaps you could..." He trailed off, searching for the right words to defuse the tension without further provoking Bellona.

Nyx's jaw clenched, his gaze still fixed on Bellona. "I won't apologize for speaking the truth," he muttered defiantly, his tone tinged with bitterness. "She needs to understand—""That's enough, Nyx," Nesta interjected sharply, her voice cutting through the room like a whip. She regarded Bellona with a cool, assessing gaze before turning her attention to Nyx. "We all have our histories, our grievances. But this dinner is not the time nor the place for personal vendettas."

Bellona felt a flicker of surprise at Nesta's intervention. Despite their animosity, Nesta seemed to understand the delicate balance they were treading. Bellona clenched her teeth, torn between the urge to lash out and the realization that losing control here would only reinforce Nyx's accusations."I think it's best if I leave," Bellona finally spoke, her voice steady but edged with restraint. She pushed back her chair abruptly, the scraping noise echoing in the tense silence. Without waiting for a response, she turned and strode towards the exit, her steps echoing in the grand hall.Behind her, she heard murmurs of concern and the sound of chairs scraping against the floor as some of the guests shifted uneasily. Feyre's voice floated after her, gentle yet firm. "Let her go. She needs time."

Bellona burst through the doors onto the balcony overlooking the city of Velaris, the cool night air hitting her face. The city sprawled beneath her, a maze of lights and shadows that seemed to pulse with life. She leaned against the stone railing, taking deep breaths in an attempt to steady herself.But the storm inside her was relentless. Emotions churned like a tempest, threatening to breach the carefully constructed walls she had erected over years of hardship and loss. The power she possessed—a gift and a curse—was now a volatile force, responding to the turmoil within her.Without warning, she felt the tell-tale stirrings of her fae abilities. Instinctively, she glanced down at her hands, only to see shimmering sparks of energy dancing along her skin. Panic surged within her, mingling with the anger and sorrow that threatened to overwhelm her."No," she whispered to herself, shaking her head as if to dispel the rising magic. "Not here. Not now."