A Bloody Crown

Chapter 23: Wings

"How?" I asked, eyes wide. "What do I need to do?"

"I've been discussing with Madja and Rhys, and reading in the library after you left last night. Since you have the essence of an Illyrian, you have the ability to grow wings. How were they suppressed? Medicines?" I nodded. "I believe, if Rhys, Madja, and I work together, we can.. build you wings."

My jaw fell slightly open, and I looked to Azriel, but his face was twisted in quiet thought. Glancing back towards Feyre, I asked, "How?"

She pursed her lips, trying to determine how to explain it. "I can extrapolate your essence and force it to create wings. However, I have to warn you, I believe it will be excruciatingly painful. Every growing pain will occur at once, you will feel every inch of the wing expanding and growing. Twice."

I shook my head, waving it off. "I don't care," I breathed. "I want to fly. I want to be like the others."

Rhys nodded, and said, "We will do it, then. Afterwards, Azriel can give you a quick flying lesson tonight. Since it is innate, I don't imagine it will take as long as it took Feyre darling." He shot her a quick wink, which she rolled her eyes at.

"She still never truly learned," Azriel added with a small smirk.

Feyre narrowed her eyes at the two boys, then looked back to me. "I'll retrieve Madja from Velaris and we can begin." She vanished after one last crinkle of her nose at her mate.

Mor stood, pulling me to my feet as well. "In the meantime," she chirped, "Let's get you suited."

* * *

A gentle hand around my mind requested entrance into my walls. Feyre. I let her in slowly, still slightly fearful, but she maintained a respectful distance from anything too secretive.

Madja, Rhys, and I are ready in the tent whenever you, Mor, and poor Az have finished clothes shopping.

Mor had dragged Azriel and I to the tent with various sizes and shades of leather armor, each crafted by hand by an Illyrian woman. I'd been through multiple suits, differing shades of black, and forced to show Azriel each one for his approval.

The vast array of answers were grunts, shrugs, and tilts of the head.

Finally, a few minutes after Feyre's message, I donned a sleek, jet black leather suit with white panels up the sides, curving inwards to cling to my body. The black boots laced up to my calf, blending perfectly into the suit. Turning in the mirror, it accentuated every feature I liked, while hiding the ones I was a little more anxious about.

Walking out of the dressing room, with a warriors braid over my shoulder, I stepped in front of Mor and Azriel, neither of which was paying attention.

Mor turned to face me and gasped slightly, a large grin finally spreading over her face. At the sound, Azriel turned as well, and gave me a gentle nod with a slight smile.

She squealed and ran forward, halfway shoving him out of the way. "Oh Aelfrun, you look incredible! So tight and flattering, ah. I love it! And look, even has holes for your soon to be wings!"

I laughed uncomfortably, letting her feel me up and run her hands over the leathers. I glanced to Azriel in a cry for help, but he just smirked at my awkwardness, and left the tent.

Damn you.

I could've sworn I heard a chuckle in response.

"Oh, Aelfrun.." she whispered, looking at the inseam on the collar, where the names of the woman who sewed the leathers were worked into the fabric. She pulled it around gently, letting me see the name that I overlooked while slipping in. There, in black thread, the name Larya. I looked to Mor with tears brimming in my eyes, with no words coming. "Let's go get your wings," Mor whispered, emotion heavy in her soft eyes.