"She would have been fifteen two days ago," Feyre murmured.
Again.
She was leaned back against Rhys, his powerful arms hugged around her torso. His lips were pressed lightly against her shoulder.
They'd said nothing over the past hour. Not even in their minds. Their energy on their quest had been drained from one simple sentence.
Nova's home had burned down, and she'd perished with a family that wasn't supposed to be hers.
"I want to visit the site." It was the first thing Rhys had said since they'd arrived in the field.
Feyre took a deep, shaking breath and nodded. "I do, too; I just…"
"I know." He whispered and tenderly kissed the side of her neck. "We can take our time."
Another hour passed, and Feyre softly squeezed his hand before slowly standing to her feet. Hand-in-hand, they walked toward the cabin's empty field and beyond where they said the graves would be situated.
They met with the others on their way. Their faces showed the grief Feyre felt, but there was something different about the look on Azriel's face.
Without hesitation, Feyre stopped and took hold of his forearm.
"Hey," her voice was soft but firm, "don't think for one second that there was anything you could have done to prevent this. No one could have."
Azriel's jaw tightened in acknowledgment, but the guilt and pain of loss he harbored wasn't something anyone could take away from him.
Looking over, a tear loosed down Feyre's cheek as Mor extended a clenched fist and a soft, sad smile that made her eyes glisten. In her grasp was an array of wildflowers, and Feyre took them gingerly so as not to crush them.
It took everything in her power to move her legs toward the edge of the woods. She fit her arm into Rhys' and walked on, jaw clenching as they approached the stones that seemed to crawl from the earth.
Moss covered the four stones, making the inscriptions impossible to read. Feyre lowered herself to her knees and pulled the blanket of greenery from the first stone.
Braize Timmons- father.
Feyre unveiled the next one with careful fingers.
Anya Timmons- mother.
She took a deep breath and moved to the next.
Eldor Timmons- son.
Feyre shivered as she uncovered the last stone.
Verid Timmons- son.
Leaning back on her heels, Feyre frowned at the names.
"There were already two children…" Azriel spoke, breaking the silence among them.
All eyes turned to Az as he spoke.
"There were already two children in this home," he repeated, "a stone is missing."
Rhysand sank to his knees and pressed his hand against the damp ground. He slowly shook his head.
"No magic resides in these graves. Nova isn't here."
Feyre met his violet eyes.
"Then where is she?"