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!
...
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𝟔 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧
╰┈˚ · ° . THREE WEEKS HAD PASSED SINCE Rhysand had winnowed me to the Night Court. Three weeks since I had discovered who I really was, who I was always meant to be. It hadn't been easy at first, acknowledging that I actually had a place in this word. That i was not only an assassin, a faceless person behind a veil that obscured my features as I delivered death. But days went by and as I would periodically sneak out almost every night and go to the Moonstone Palace with Rhys, it was easy to start accepting the new reality.
And it felt good to be spoken to as I wasn't a walking threat, as if I was a person with feelings and emotions too. Because Rhys never made me feel like a monster, incapable of feeling.
He helped me train my powers night after night, and slowly I could already see the progress. And when he had something else to do, his duties as High Lord or whatever else, I would just sit in my room at the Palace reading all about the previous Bloodsinger. About their lives and history. About their magic and sometimes even practicing alone.
I could just be.
I was back at the Spring Court. It never felt more of a chore. I was the first to admit that if I knew that Feyre was going to be back to her previous self, if I knew that she would have been unconditionally happy and taken care off in the right way— which she wasn't— after Under The mountain, I would have gone back to the human land, back to the League. I never liked the Spring Court, but it never weighed me this much before.
I was laying on the bed in the flower themed room in Tamlin's Court, my arm raised as blood flowed between my hands effortlessly.
Rain, salt and citrus drifted up my nose.
I followed the connection inside of me like I had learned to do in those weeks— it was becoming easier and easier by the day— until I could feel and see those red and black strands that formed our bond.
"Sneak out." Rhysand grumbled without much of a greeting.
"Not even a 'hello, Vee?' " I asked sarcastically, snarking back my reply.
