𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧
: ̗̀➛ In 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 the younger twin of Feyre Archeron
has to fight through the thorns of roses just
to survive.
〔Azriel x oc〕
╰┈˚ · ° . slowburn!
...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
╰┈˚ · ° . EXCITEMENT ALMOST BUBBLED OUT from Rhysand. It was a strange and unusual sight, the powerful High Lord skipping down the moonstone floor.
But not an unwelcome one.
With laughter almost spilling from my lips, I called after the violet-eyed male, "Can you slow down? And where are we going?"
"Put at good use those new Fae legs and walk faster." He took a second to turn around and speak to me before he was once again speed walking down the hallway.
In the end, after various turns to the left, multiple to the right, up several flights of stairs, the High Lord led us to a magnificent library. Ceiling high bookshelves lined the walls made with natural black wood that had hand-carved incisions made with meticulous precision. On three of the four walls, to break the pattern of bookshelves, there were open windows that gave a clear view of the outside. In the middle of the library stood a long table, and from above, a glass chandelier that reflected the light of the stars dangled. Additional glass lanterns were sporadically placed around, helping the chandelier light up the room— which all lit up with flames as the High Lord entered the room.
I didn't even have the time to appreciate the beauty of the room because Rhysand, with a never dimming energy, lips continuing to tug upwards into a smile, brows lowered in concentration, was already looking around himself.
The raven-haired Fae snapped his fingers together and books flew from the shelves and onto the table to the command of his magic.
"High Fae with the ability to manipulate blood are called Bloodsingers. The name— from what I know— has various meanings behind it. No one knows exactly what it is the real one. Maybe it's from the way they can feel the blood coursing through the veins calling to them like a siren song. Or the way heartbeats sound, each different, and so a different song personal to every person."
"Yeah, it does make sense." I mumbled as I heard every word with the most interest. Curiosity coursing through my body.
"Bloodsingers are very rare." Rhysand said almost hesitantly, raising his eyes from the book that he was looking through to glance at me. "There is always just one alive at one time."
