Velaris Archeron was the light in her three older sisters' dim life.
When their life is threatened as war approaches, Velaris and her sisters' life will change forever.
When her true identity is revealed, will Velaris' light be ruined by darkness? O...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Mrs. Laurent?" Velaris questioned as she noticed the woman standing tensely in the doorway to their manor next to Elain.
"What is it?" Nesta asked as she walked towards Velaris.
"Feyre?" Elain gaped at her younger sister and the two other Archeron sisters froze at the name.
"Mrs. Laurent, draw up some tea and bring it to the drawing room," Elain said after hugging Feyre tightly.
Velaris held Nesta's hand in a tight grip as the two walked down the stairs tensely.
Feyre missed Velaris. To finally see her—out of bed and healthier than the last time she saw her—made the female want to burst into tears and hug the younger girl tightly but she attempted to keep calm.
"Vel," Feyre whispered the name like a prayer as she walked a step towards Velaris—who immediately flinched away. While Velaris has made huge progress, it took her time to even be able to be near her eldest sisters, and Feyre—she hasn't seen her in months and her first reflex was to stay as far away as possible from someone who's not Nesta or Elain.
"Hey," Vel muttered quietly, her eyes stuck to the floor.
Feyre sent a questioning frown to Nesta—who immediately glared at her. It's none of your business, Nesta seemed to say.
"Shall we go to the drawing-room?" Elain's voice cut through the tense silence.
Seated across from Feyre on a small sofa, her older sisters stared —and waited. Vel just stared at the floor as she curled up to Elain's side.
"Where is Father?" Feyre said unexpectedly, making Velaris flinch.
"In Neva," Nesta said, naming one of the largest cities on the continent. "Trading with some merchants from the other half of the world. And attending a summit about the threat above the wall. A threat I wonder if you've come back to warn us about."
Elain lifted her teacup. "Whatever the reason, Feyre, we are happy to see you. Alive. We thought you were—"
Vel heard her sisters gasp so she looked up at Feyre for the first time—to the sight of pointed ears. Feyre's pointed ears.
Oh dear gods, she's going to vomit.
"I was dead," Feyre said roughly. "I was dead, and then I was reborn—remade."
Elain set her shivering teacup onto the low-lying table between her and Feyre. Amber liquid splashed over the side, pooling in the saucer.
And as she moved, Nesta angled herself—ever so slightly. Between Feyre, and Elain and Vel—who were still in a state of shock.
Feyre held Nesta's gaze as she said, "I need you to listen."
Feyre then told the three her story. And while Vel loved stories—she wasn't a fan of the story Feyre told.
