The Prophecy - ACOTAR

Chapter 46

In a whirlwind of shadows and darkness, Astrid careened into the wooden floor of her mother's Illyrian house. Her breathing was short and erratic, her chest felt like someone had tightened a belt around her ribs and was trying to pull it tighter. Her eyes were red and puffy from the tears that had begun to spill when she was yelling at and to Lucien, the tears that were still falling down her cheeks in a salty waterfall.

Her whole body was shaking like leaves in a storm as her back slammed against the nearest wall, her legs finally giving out as she fell to the floor. Her mind was so focused on Feyre, wings, and missing Az that she didn't notice the pain of the wooden walls slamming against her back.

Astrid knew that it wasn't Feyre's fault that she had Illyrian wings, Feyre didn't choose those out of spite. It was just how the magic was manifesting for her, and it wasn't a form of magic Feyre had practiced with Rhys yet, so she had no control. But it didn't make it hurt any less, it didn't make it feel any more fair. She was more than likely going to get to learn how to fly with those wings as soon as she was able to control their coming and going. It was something Astrid had wanted to learn with Rhys when he helped her manifest them Under the Mountain.

Now, she didn't know if she would ever be able to fly, and she was scared to try. Not many things could make her scared, she could count the number of things that scared her on one hand.

1. Losing Camryn

2. Losing Wren

3. Losing Az

4. Losing Rhys

5. And never being able to fly...

It was no surprise that she was afraid of losing her companion, her best friend, her mate, and her brother. But Astrid never would have guessed that she would be afraid of not flying. It was something that was literally ripped from her before she could experience it, and now, she may never get to experience it while she watches Feyre do just that.

She barely registered the sound of the front door opening and shutting before delicate yet slightly calloused hands were gripping her chin and forcing her gaze from the floor. Her eyes met Mor's golden-brown ones; she could see Mor's mouth moving but she couldn't hear the words through the pounding in her ears. All Astrid could do was shake her head back and forth, it was the only way she could let Mor know she couldn't hear her.

Mor said something that looked a lot like the word "Fuck!" before she rushed back outside. Astrid tried taking in a deep breath, but her chest still felt like someone was trying to crush her ribs with a belt. The longer she went without being able to take a full breath, the more her body began to shake and feel weak, the pounding in her head grew louder, and her head began to feel cloudy.

Before long, the large, booted feet of Cass came into view as Astrid was staring at the floor again. He crouched in front of her, gently moving her chin in the same way Mor had, to bring Astrid's gaze from the floor. Astrid hesitantly met his gaze; he didn't try to say anything to her he just looked over her face as she tried to stop her crying.

Cass's eyebrows scrunched together before he sat next to her. He didn't move to try and hug her, he just extended one arm, an offering for comfort. Her brain started to panic more, but if she could push the panic away by a sliver, she knew she could trust him. She forced herself to scoot closer to him and Cass wrapped his arm around her. When she didn't tense up more or scoot away, he tightened his arm and pulled her closer.

The extra bit of pressure helped her gain a bit of control back in her breathing, letting her body relax enough so her head was able to rest against Cass's shoulder. Astrid was thankful Mor had gone and gotten him, because he seemed to know what she needed as he gently pulled her into his lap and tightened his hold on her.