[ 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ]
: ̗̀➛ In 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 the younger twin of Feyre Archeron
has to fight through the thorns of roses just
to survive.
〔Azriel x oc〕
╰┈˚ · ° . slowburn!
...
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╰┈˚ · ° . ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ꜱᴛᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴛᴡᴏ ʜɪʟʟꜱ. The air was cold—far colder than the air at the top of the hill.
"All dark and miserable roads lead Under the Mountain," Alis said so quietly that her voice was nothing more than the rustling of leaves. She pointed to the cave. "It's an ancient shortcut—once considered sacred, but no more."
"I reckon you two are regretting your hotheadedness right now."
"Not really. I'm already a dead woman walking" Maiven mumbled. Oh she knew she was dead the moment Braken would see her again.
The faerie and the older twin looked at Maiven with furrowed brows. Both of them did not understand what the girl was trying to say.
"I will free him." Feyre stated
"You'll be lucky if she gives you a clean death. You'll be lucky if you even get brought before her. A few rules to remember, girls. Don't drink the wine—it's not like what we had at the Solstice, and will do more harm than good. Don't make deals with anyone unless your life depends on it—and even then, consider whether it's worth it. And most of all: don't trust a soul in there—not even your Tamlin. Your senses are your greatest enemies; they will be waiting to betray you."
"There was one part of the curse. One part we can't tell you. Even now, my bones are crying out just for mentioning it. One part you have to figure out ... on your own, one part she ... she ..." Alis swallowed loudly. "That she still doesn't want you to know, if I can't say it," she gasped out. "But keep —keep your ears open, girl. Listen to what you hear."
Feyre touched her arm. "I will. Thank you for bringing us."
"It's a rare day indeed when someone thanks you for bringing them to their death. I'll wish you luck nonetheless," Alis added.
"Once you retrieve them, if you and your nephews need somewhere to flee," Feyre said, "cross the wall. Go to our family's house." She told her the location. "Ask for Nesta—our eldest sister. She knows who you are, knows everything. She will shelter you in any way she can."
