Chapter 6

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"It's been two years," Feyre said to her sister.

"Stop nagging me about him, we decided to take things slow," Nesta tightly said.

But Feyre heard that same phrase for the past year and a half.

Taking things slow.

Feyre was getting impatient, perhaps even more than Cassian himself.

He saved her, he saved her in the same sense that Rhys had saved Feyre when she was failing herself. Nesta was becoming a person who lived life carelessly, and out of all people, Cassian, brought her back.

Feyre rolled her eyes and resumed to heating the soup.

Heating the soup, she thought to herself and smirked.

Wanna relive that memory a bit more vividly, Feyre darling?

Don't read my thoughts Rhysie, Feyre said sarcastically.

Your barriers are down and I have a feeling it was on purpose...

She could feel the wink as Rhys faded away again.

"The soup!" Elain blurted. Indeed, the soup was about to the brim.

"Ew," Amren muttered, most definitely from the scent coming from Feyre, not the food. The little devil was picking her nails with a knife by the breakfast bar.

The inner circle, and Feyre's sisters had decided to have a formal dinner tonight, in celebration of Cassian's birthday. But the General seemed to have been caught up else where, while Rhys and Azriel were-

"Smells good!" Cassian sniffed obnoxiously loud for all the females to hear. Following him was, Rhysand and Azriel.

"Happy birthday Cassian," Elain said. Cassian nodded in thanks.

"Happy birthday dork," Feyre said right after. Cassian rolled his eyes at her.

Then his eyes went straight to Nesta's fiery eyes.

Your sister seems to have a talent for staring, Rhysand sent through the bond.

Feyre subtly nodded back at him.

But then a smile formed on both of their lips as Nesta said, "Happy birthday." Cassian gave a soft smile.

"Everyone take a seat, I'll set the table real quick," Elain said. Azriel followed behind her, no doubt to help.

"I'm so hungry for that smell," Cassian said rubbing his stomach and sitting down. Amren just made a sound of disgust at him. But before Feyre could take a seat and watch the two fight it out, she looked towards her husband and mate.

Rhysand's worried eyes found Feyre's as he uttered the silent words, follow me.

And so Feyre did.

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