Chapter 21 | Arlo

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Hey Guys! 

This is an early chapter because I've split it into two. I will post the second part this Sunday. The reason I split it into two is because - although I've edited so many times - I haven't found a way to make it any less heavy. So instead of breaking your hearts once, I'll break them twice with a few days in-between :* 

Thank-you as always for the wonderful feedback on the last chapter. I hope everything in this one makes sense ( and I will look forward to your constructive criticism if it doesn't!) I spent so much time planning the plot of this chapter and re-reading/ re-writing, so although it's heavy, I hope you enjoy it! 

Much love, and happy Friyay!

Daisy xo


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Chapter 21 | Arlo


*

'And sometimes I have kept
my feelings to myself, because
I could find no language to
describe them in.'

- Jane Austen

*


IRIS


Iris woke in the morning after a restless night's sleep. It was already bright in her room and yawning, Iris stepped out of bed, wandering over to peek through the window. The storm that had battered her windows last night had cleared, and the view down to Aether was crisp and clear.

Iris bathed quickly and rang the servants bell to request breakfast. Soon, she was curled in the window seat with a warm cup of coffee cradled in her hands as she gazed down at the township below, lost in thought.

This was Iris's favourite place to be when she wasn't training. She could watch as the city of Aether woke sleepily. First it was just a light trickle, but gradually the streets would become bustling as the lycans who called the Jade City their home, went about their day.

When she pulled the curtains, Iris could hide herself completely within this space, enveloped by the smell of coffee and sunshine, with the noise from the town drifting through the open window.

But this morning, she could not find the same semblance of serenity as she usually did. Her thoughts kept floating back to Aelin, and she could not help remembering the empty, barren streets, filled with water and death. The contrast to the lively township below really was too tragic.

And to think ... it was Aelin from which her family had come.

Finishing her coffee, Iris hugged her knees to her chest and leant against the windowpane with a sigh. The glass was warm with the heat from the sun beyond and Iris's eyes lazed closed as she mused over Balthazar's words.

One of the sun and one of the moon.

She took a steady breath inward and tried to calm her racing heart. It was this statement that had shaken her the most – shaken her down to her core. She had always known she was Royalty; Arlo had never hidden that from her. But a direct descendant of the first Lycanthrope? Iris could never have dreamed such a thing.

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