Females were very rare in the night court's ruling family as it was, all either die young or end up forgotten in the abyss of history.
Rhysand ever thought he'd have to father one of these, in fact, he did't believe he even deserve to be a father, u...
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CHAPTER TWELVE
I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror
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Hues of blue, pink and orange painted the skies of Velaris at dusk, the fresh air turned colder with every passing second, sending chills down Elayla's skin as she sat in a one of the multiple terraces of the House of Wind, facing the calm scenery of the Sedar River.
According to what she had read many times before, the nights are the most beautiful in the night court, not that she would know, since she have spent the entirety of the fifty nine years of her existence in the city of Starlight.
She had no chance of leaving, with Amara- her on sight and the conflict-torn Prythian that existed behind the shields around Velaris, there wasn't much to discover, anyways. Nothing if not torn wings and bloodshed...
She should've been grateful, for being spared from the atrocities she had committed, she should've be happy that she grew up safe, sound and warm. Should've was a key word.
She should've been thrilled for her father's return, She should've be grateful for Feyre, the Cursebreaker. She should and should and should...
And yet, all she felt was nothing, miles and miles of a dark endless abyss of falling and falling and falling.
Catch me...
Bring me up...
Help me back...
She wanted to scream, but no one would hear, no one would listen, why would they, she was after all supposed to bounce back every single time, she was meant to shine like the stars in the ridiculous tiara she used to wear for the stupid occasions people had to see her in. She hated it. She hated it so very much that she might just throw up at the thought of it...
