Another World

Part 3

~~~

Aelin's sharp intake of breath could be audible from the floors above. Everyone was silent for what felt like an eternity. Elain, in surprise to everyone but Azriel, was the one who broke the silence.

"I always thought Feyre and Rhysand had a curse." The female licked her full lips, her voice quiet. "Three blessings stolen by a Fae Queen."

Amren snorted. "Fae Queen—I think not, the rotten bitch. Maeve is a Valg Queen, who escaped from the Valg realm and made the world believe she was one of the Fae Sister-Queens, Mora and Mab."

Aelin stopped breathing. She swallowed, hard. "No."

Everyone turned to look at her. She shook her head. "No..." She said again. "That's not true. Fenrys and Connall are her cadre... and—and she is my aunt. She caused so much destruction... but—"

Mor took a step toward Aelin. "It is true, Aelin. I sense it, Amren is right."

Aelin just shook her head as her gaze darted crazily. Her eyes took a mad look. "I know what this is." She said, slowly, as she bared her teeth. "Another one of Maeve's glamours."

Rhysand frowned. Cassian looked at Aelin's fighting stance and his eyes turned cold. Azriel's shadows curled around him and Elain.

"I do not know what your... aunt put you through, but I assure you this is no trick." Feyre said.

Aelin sneered. "This bullshit is getting more real by the second." With that, she lunged at the closest Fae.

Nesta.

The world became a blur as Aelin tackled the female to the ground. She was another mirage, Aelin was sure of it. When her nails scratched skin though, she startled. Nesta's eyes were wild, the savageness Aelin found there was a mirror image of herself. And as her nails cut at Nesta's arms, someone threw her off.

Aelin raised her head, looking now as Cassian knelt before Nesta and cradled her in his arms, he lifted her up and took a step back.

"You crazy, bitch." He snarled.

Aelin's nostrils flared. As she went forward again, the complicated dance of killing she had learned from her earliest years came back at her.

Aelin saw nothing, and yet everything. She swept her foot under Cassian, who, carrying Nesta, fell back. Hard. Then she went for Mor, feinted up and hit the female's bare abdomen. After some blows, Mor was writhing in the floor. Azriel was next to her in a second.

"Mor, are you alright?" He asked, his scarred hands hovering over her.

Aelin didn't hear Elain's screams to Stop! or little Elanna's weeping, her body welcomed back her gift of fighting. And she became wild as a lioness.

Because in that room, she finally lost it.

In that room, she again became Celaena Sardothien.

She realized, she was so fucking tired. She did not give a shit. Aelin snapped, enough was enough. And as Rhysand left Feyre's arms and winnowed to Aelin, as he appeared behind her and winnowed her away; Aelin only thought about her life.

Her whole life, she had been deprived from her freedom.

By Arobynn.

By Endovier.

By The King.

By Maeve.

And as Aelin materialized in the nothingness, below a dark sky lightened by hundreds of stars—she just gave in.