Tw: this book will deal with triggering topics. If you are easily triggered this is not the story for you, thank you.
(Book three in the Starlight series)
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Danika Archeron was a damn god.
No longer would she be broken, no...
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"Fruit of a poisoned tree."
─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
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NESTA AND AMREN WAITED OUTSIDE the throne room, both of them looking equally as unhappy to be there as the other.
Well that made eight of us.
I didn't doubt Keir's claim about the mirror—and yet risked gazing into it...I wondered if it was something that would become a necessity somewhere along the way. If the cost of one of us would be worth the alliance of the bone carver...
I wasn't going to think about it.
Not now.
We did not bother with good-byes to the whispering court as we winnowed to the town house. To Velaris—the peace and beauty that now felt infinitely more fragile.
Cassian had come off the roof at some point to join Lucien in the sitting room, the books from the wall spread on the low-lying table between them. Feyre sat with them both, her lips pursed as she stared at a book. Each of them got to their feet at the expressions on our faces.
Feyre was halfway to Mor when she whirled on Rhys and said, "Why?" Her voice broke on the single syllable.
I didn't miss the way both Eira and Astrid began inching out of the room toward the kitchen. They likely felt like they were intruding. Hell, I felt like I was too.
And something in my chest cracked, too, at the tears that began running down her face.
Rhys just stood there, staring down at her. His face unreadable.
Watching as she slammed her hands into his chest and shouted, "Why?"
He yielded a step. "Eris found Azriel—our hands were tied. I made the best of it." His throat bobbed. "I'm sorry."
