"Her wings are made of starlight."
In which a mortal girl and an immortal Illyrian
are gifted neighboring cells Under The Mountain
and change each other's lives forever.
𝑨𝑪𝑶𝑻𝑨𝑹 -
...
𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓. chapter eight; Secret Keeper " I keep forgetting that I'm home. "
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AZRIEL HAD BEEN pouring over more books than Rhys believed were in all of Velaris. He had been asking question after question to Rhys, only ones that he seemed comfortable enough to answer, to gather as much information as possible before he spoke.
"I don't think her wings were clipped."
"Not on purpose," Rhys responded, "But with the amount of torment to them. . ."
"Well, the only way to know is to try," Cassian spoke up, nodding, "Once she's ready, we'll try to rebuild her wing strength."
"Cass. . ." Mor started quietly with a deep frown carved into her features, "She couldn't even feel them."
"She's the first female Carynthian, if anyone can come back from this it's her."
The room fell into silence at Azriel's comment. It left no room for argument, no space for doubt.
Nixie would fly again. Azriel would will it into existence if he had to, he didn't care about fate or destiny or the grander plan-- he wouldn't let her suffer any more than she already had.
"Good morning, Nixie."
The trio of Illyrian men perked up to attention at Amren's words encased in a sly smile.
"Should've known I couldn't sneak past you," Nixie spoke quietly, emerging from the hall in defeat, "Good morning."
Rhys attempted a smile, but fell short.
Nixie was nothing if not prideful in her appearances. She's always been that way, from the first moment Rhysand met her when they were nothing more than children, and Cassian had made more jokes about it than anyone could recount. About her seemingly endless wardrobe, intricate hairstyles, bottomless jewelry collection, and ever-changing perfumes.
And yet, hair was still in the braids her mother had crafted, her clothes the same ones from her childhood home. The wrinkles and frizz showed she'd slept in them, and had yet to change them for another.
"Your wardrobe has been fully stocked, Nix," Rhys gently spoke, "And there's breakfast, if you're hungry."
Nixie's cheeks flushed deeply as she realized her attire.
"Oh, I—" She scrambled for the right words, "I forgot—"
"I saved you a seat."
Azriel patted the cushioned chair beside himself, beckoning her over.
The Inner Circle watched as she took cautious footsteps, only taking a seat when Rhys nodded to her.
Cassian quickly filled up the woman's plate as Mor poured water into her cup.
