Smoke billowed against the starry sky as Feyre watched the blaze consume and split the log in half with a crackle. The day's stifling heat turned into a shivering night as the wind buffeted through the trees. They'd found the stones, but it didn't matter. Nova wasn't among them, which might have been a relief, but the knot in Freye's gut couldn't seem to be undone.
If their daughter wasn't buried in the personal Timmons cemetery, then where was she?
Dead somewhere else? Had they never uncovered her body? Had other fae found her first?
She couldn't stomach the thought of her being taken prisoner by Hybern for all this time. It didn't make sense to kill her- she'd have harbored their traits. Nova was too valuable to harm. Though, there was the possibility that they had taken her away and raised her as their own. Taught her to plot malicious intent against her own family. Her own Court. The very thought made Feyre's lip curl.
"I can't feel her," she murmured, eyes swollen from many silently shed tears, "But I can't leave without knowing what happened. I won't. Even if it kills me inside...I have to know."
Rhys nodded and pressed a soft kiss against her temple. "We won't stop looking for answers until we find the truth. I swear to you."
"Nor will I." Feyre glanced at Azriel, who gave a solid nod. "We'll find the truth."
Nodding in agreement, Cassian and Mor would have offered a smile if their faces hadn't looked so grim. Silence filled the space, aside from the fire and spoons scraping against the bottoms of empty bowls of rabbit stew. The need to formulate a next step was tangible, but no one knew where to start.
Rhysand finally broke the quiet. "We'll go into the town in a few hours. When more people are awake. There's always the chance that the Timmons didn't keep her. She could be in the town as we speak, living with another family. Perhaps she hadn't been near the fire at all."
"With that said," he turned his gaze on Feyre. "We need to be at our best. We'll need to ask questions tomorrow, possibly enter minds. Our best equates rest."
Feyre pushed out a sigh. Any other night, she would argue, but she didn't have the energy after the day they'd had. "Just a couple of hours." She agreed.
Sleeping bags were set out, and soon, everyone was nestled in as comfortably as possible. Inside their shared bag, Feyre pressed herself against Rhys' solid frame. His fingers took hold of her chin, and she had no choice but to meet his intense gaze.
"We will survive this. As we always do."
Feyre closed her eyes as he pressed a gentle kiss against her lips. It wasn't a promise to find Nova, nor was it a declaration they'd uncover the answers they wanted. But his words offered enough warmth to help her aching muscles relax.
Feyre felt like she'd barely closed her eyes when she was opening them again to broad daylight. Rolling to her side, she watched Mor pack up her sleeping bag as Azriel shook dirt and debris off his.
"Come on," Cassian sighed as he held up his boots, "Really?"
Rhysand groaned as he shifted to his knees. "What?" Rhys asked with a sigh. He wasn't as patient as he otherwise might have been.
Cas rolled his eyes. "Don't get me wrong, I love a good prank, but now isn't the time."
Az raised a brow at him, then at the boots he held. "What?"
"My laces are gone."
"Nobody took your laces," Mor retorted, "Maybe you misplaced them."
"How would I misplace my laces?"
Feyre rubbed her temples as she sat up.
With a touch of magic, new laces were strung through Cassian's boots, Rhys sighed "Happy?"
Cas grumbled under his breath as he stuffed his feet into them, but said nothing else.
"Let's go to town," Feyre suggested and her stomach lurched with an audible growl, "I'm starved."
The village was smaller in the daylight. It was one stretch of road with designated locations on either side. Feyre could only assume residences were beyond the town limits, much like the Timmons cabin. A broad man on a horse strode in their direction, offering a nod and a tight-lipped smile as he went by. As friendly as the place seemed, Feyre didn't want to linger.
She wanted answers, and she wanted them now.
Passing a blacksmith's forge, they approached a little bakery nestled between a tiny library and what seemed to be a postal service. Feyre's belly rumbled as they entered the lively shop— the tavern-goers from the night before seemed to have traded their location for their morning routine.
Squeezing her elbow, Rhys walked past and to the front counter, where he ordered drinks and fresh-baked muffins.
They surveyed the room of patrons and they stared back. The glamour they wore was enough to hide their most apparent attributes. Hopefully, they wouldn't have to stay long; they'd get answers, find Nova, and go home.
Velaris awaited them.
"She would be fifteen by this time…" Rhysand spoke to the baker.
The woman contemplated as she used the back of her hand to wipe away the bit of flour from her forehead.
"I can't say I have. I keep to myself mostly," she paused, "Who you'd want to ask is Ms. Archie."
"Ms. Archie?" Rhys clarified and nodded. "Where might I find her?"
"You keep going down the road there and go left on the trail, ya can't miss it. There's a sign. At the end of the path is a schoolhouse. Ms. Archie is the teacher here. If anyone would know, it'd be her."
Rhysand offered her his devastatingly charming smile.
"Thank you. We do appreciate it." He turned and walked toward them, muffins in hand, as he left the baker to fan herself.
"Was that necessary?" Feyre asked with a slight smile and shake of her head before following Azriel, Cassian, and Mor outside.
I was simply expressing my gratitude.
You were brown-nosing for big muffins.
Feyre side-eyed him as he chuckled, then accepted one of the muffins from the bag. While it was duller than the food from Prythian, it was nearly as big as her head, and she was starving. They all ate and drank as they walked, but like nails in a board, invasive thoughts intruded Feyre's mind with each step they took.
A sudden calming presence balmed her anxious thoughts as they approached the trail the baker had mentioned. With her free hand, she intertwined her fingers with Rhys'.
What if she doesn't have answers? Her question was a whisper against his mind.
Then we continue searching.
It was a long walk along the trail, thickly enclosed with mossy greenery. Somewhat entertaining, however, as Cassian was smacked in the forehead every few minutes by low-hanging vines.
"They have thorns." He rubbed his reddened forehead.
Azriel smirked before saying, "I see the schoolhouse. Just up ahead."
They entered the clearing, and it was probably the most serene-looking schoolhouse Feyre had ever seen. If she'd ever had the chance to learn to read in the mortal realm, this would have been her first choice. Off to the right was a little pond filled with wildlife. To the left, it seemed, were learning stations. They were set with experiments of some sort, and off in the back, Feyre could see a play area with obstacles to climb on and maneuver. It didn't seem like the average schoolhouse. It seemed…fun.
Beyond the open door of the building, a woman walked by the entrance. She pushed dirt with her broom out onto the porch. It was just a little shack painted a soft, peeling yellow, but seemed to double as a schoolhouse and a home. The woman glanced up and offered a warm smile. Her golden hair was cut down to just below her chin, and she wore a simple white frock with baby-blue floral patterns.
"Can I help you with something?" The woman asked as she set the broom against the open space next to the door.
"We're looking for Ms. Archie," Feyre answered, desperately hoping-internally praying, that this visit would prove fruitful.
"That's me," Ms. Archie smiled and walked down the steps toward them, "How can I help you?"
Rhys stepped forward. "We're looking for a missing child," the worry of his brow was unmistakable, "She had lived in the Timmons residence for some time. She would have been three when the fire occurred-"
Heartbreak misted her eyes. "Such a tragic loss…"
Rhysand nodded slowly. "It was," he murmured, pursing his lips into a thin line, "But we aren't certain that the child was lost in the fire. We visited the cemetery. The gravestones of two young boys were there. Not a little girl. Do you remember if someone had brought an infant or toddler to the village? Any time before or after the fire?" Silence stretched as Ms. Archie touched her fingers to her chin, seeming to recall her memories.
"I don't remember a child being abandoned or relocated in this particular area. Are you sure the Timmons had a third child?"
"Yes," Azriel said plainly, his expression void of emotion.
Shuffling footsteps sounded behind Ms. Archie, and a boy stepped through the door and onto the porch. Using a pair of wooden crutches, he dragged himself to the railing. Ms. Archie lightly squeezed his shoulder and offered a tight smile before returning her attention to them.
"This is Zaylor, my son," she pursed her lips and continued, "If she were three during the time of the fire, she'd be a teenager now, yes?"
"Fifteen." Cassian nodded, offering the boy a small smile.
Zaylor was meek- sickly looking. His voice matched his appearance, "You're talking about the girl in the woods."
The schoolhouse was small, and the desks were smaller. Cassian smiled awkwardly as he sat in one of the chairs, half his ass hanging off the seat.
Feyre smiled encouragingly at Zaylor, also sitting at one of the desks, as Mor asked, "You say there's a girl in the woods?"
Zaylor nodded as Ms. Archie offered everyone a cup of hot tea, which they all took obligingly, but did not drink.
"He sometimes has nightmares." Ms. Archie pursed her lips, flattening out her apron.
But Zaylor quickly countered. "I have nightmares because of what I saw."
"What did you see?" Rhys asked, his voice calm- patient.
Zaylor met his eyes, and Feyre knew he would be delving into his memories just as she was about to. His mind was soft and mailable, unlike the High Lords minds she'd entered in the past. It was almost too easy to look into his mind- his memories.
"I watched her kill them," Zaylor whispered.
The room was silent. Not even the trees outside seemed to breathe. Zaylor continued, his ashen skin beading with perspiration as he spoke. "Before I was taken in here, I had to travel through the woods. I was eleven at the time and had more strength then. I came from the East. As I walked toward the town, I felt something watching me. Following me," he swept his dark shaggy hair away from his dulled eyes, "I would stop and look around, but nothing would be there. I'd start to walk, and it would start again. After a while, I learned to ignore it. Well, one night I stopped to rest, and built a fire. Everything was quiet. So quiet I thought I'd gone deaf. I couldn't even hear the fire. Then it all came back on, and I heard…"
Feyre inched forward, watching the memory play out in his head, but the details were too blurry.
"What did you hear?" Mor whispered.
"Screaming," Zaylor swallowed. "It wasn't a scream like someone was scared in the dark. It was…" He shuddered and shook his head. "I don't know what I was thinking when I did it, but I followed the screams, and I-I saw her."
"A girl?" Az asked, brow furrowed.
Zaylor nodded. "She looked like me, kind of, but not really. I guess she was my size, is what I mean. My age. But she had…" He touched the tops of his ears and stretched them toward the sky. It took everything in Feyre not to glance at Rhys as her heart thundered against her chest.
"She was standing at the riverbank. I thought maybe she needed help. That she was the one who screamed, but that's when I saw the bodies. Two men on the grass of the bank. They were," he pursed his lips, "Purple and...twisted. I don't know how she did it, but I know it was her."
"Did you approach her?" Cassian asked, crossing his arms a little tighter.
Zaylor shook his head. "I couldn't move," he frowned, "I know that sounds weak, being scared like that, but I didn't know what else to do. I just stood there."
"She walked away then?" Rhys tilted his head with a frown.
"Sort of," Zaylor pursed his lips, "She walked toward me, got so close. Maybe it was a dream because her eyes were purple. I've never seen eyes like that. The closer she got, the more she looked like…" he whispered the last word, "a Faerie." His green eyes were suddenly doused in fear.
Innocent fear that was passed down through generations of learned hate. He continued, "But maybe she wasn't because after she stared at me for a little while, she just left. A Faerie wouldn't have done that. I can't explain who she is or what I saw, but I don't go into the woods now. Not ever."
Ms. Archie pursed her lips. "No bodies were ever found."
Zaylor sighed as if he'd been told that too many times over the years.
"I know what I saw." He muttered.
"It's her. I know it's her." Feyre said as they climbed the incline toward their campsite. Though Zaylor's memory had been hazy, Feyre knew. The girl he'd stumbled upon was Nova. She felt it in her soul.
Rhys took her by the elbow and pulled her back, his expression almost unreadable. "I'm not saying she isn't," he murmured, "But we must remember that this happened nearly five years ago. There is always a chance she's moved on from the area."
"That could be why we haven't sensed her nearby," Azriel added gently.
Mor chimed in. "The important thing is she was alive those five years ago and apparently kicking ass." Everyone glanced at her as she continued, "She's been able to protect herself, which is just as important as her surviving the fire."
Az smiled. "We'll be able to track her."
Momentary relief collectively filled them. It was like seeing a light at the end of a dark tunnel. All that time spent locked in the dark under Hybern had taken a toll, but this- this one shred of hope was enough to let Feyre feel that iridescent glow on her skin again. Rhys grazed his lips lightly along her temple, he smiled as she squeezed his hand.
By the time they arrived at the campsite, the hunger had returned. The muffin hadn't been nearly enough to fill them, and they'd eaten everything from the packs they'd brought from Velaris, which had been a slim choice to begin with. Most of the kitchen items were so long rotten that they were practically fossilized.
"There's a river just that way," Cassian nodded through the forest, "Probably the same one Zaylor talked about. There's bound to be fish."
"I'll come with you." Feyre offered quickly, hoping for the off chance they might find a sign of Nova.
"I can set some traps," Azriel added, already set out with his pack.
Rhys glanced at Feyre and nodded.
"I'll go with Az. We'll look for signs of her while we're out there," he turned to Mor, "Mor, if you want to get the fire going and see if you notice anything nearby, this might be near the spot that Zaylor was staying that night."
All in agreement, everyone set off in different directions.
Soon Feyre sat on a flat stone by the water's edge, watching her line. Their eyes wandered the bank, searching for tracks or signs someone had been there before them. But aside from a few deer hooves and snake belly trails, nothing could prove Nova's existence.
"Maybe the others found something." Cassian offered with a small smile.
Feyre nodded as she pulled her legs to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. "And maybe she left a long time ago," she sighed, "I've been thinking…" She caught his eye, and he nodded for her to continue.
"About?"
"Maybe it would be best if you three go back to Velaris. Rhys and I can keep searching and-"
Cas frowned, interrupting her. "Hey, we want to find her too. The more eyes searching, the better our odds."
"I know," Feyre pursed her lips, "But you haven't seen Nesta in so long…"
"Nesta would kick my ass and yours if she knew you were suggesting lowering the search party for her niece. You didn't see her face when I told her you lost her."
Feyre knew her sister had very few soft spots, and it seemed Cassian just revealed one. She didn't bring it up again as they pulled in the fish.
When they approached the campsite with their haul of seven small trout, the sky was bruised pink and purple. The others were already gathered around the fire, waiting. They'd taken more time catching their fish than Feyre had realized- hearty rabbit stew was already simmering in the pot.
"Smells amazing." Cas breathed in as he handed the fish off to Azriel, who already had his blade in-hand to cut and clean their catch. They'd all eat their fill tonight.
Plopping onto her sleeping bag, Feyre sighed and snuggled against Rhys' side, breathing in the scent of citrus.
Looking up at him, she asked, "Anything?"
Rhys shook his head. "You?"
Feyre imitated his response and frowned. "How long should we look in this area before moving on?"
What direction would they even go?
"We could split up if need be," Rhys offered, "Check in with different towns and see if anyone has seen anything. Maybe they have stories about a girl in the woods, too."
Nodding, Feyre wiggled her toes inside her boots and felt the unmistakable squish of river water between her toes. She cringed. While keeping half her body against Rhys, his arm wrapped around her waist, she pulled her bag toward her and dug blindly. Frowning, she peered inside, searching for the wool socks she'd packed.
"Something wrong?" Mor asked, all eyes turning to Feyre.
"My socks are gone…" She trailed off, glancing between them. "I remember putting them in here, specifically because-" She stopped immediately, cheeks red as she met Rhys' knowing gaze.
"I know I put them in here, and they're gone."
"Like my shoelaces!" Cassian exclaimed.
"Nobody would have taken your shoelaces." Mor groaned.
Cassian glared at her. "Well, I wouldn't have taken them myself."
"Is anyone else missing anything?" Rhys asked.
Each exchanged glsnces before they all meticulously searched their packs.
Azriel frowned. "My water container is gone."
"Mine too…" Mor furrowed her brow.
"Same." Rhys and Cassian replied at the same time.
Feyre searched her bag and nodded. Hers was missing, too, "Okay, so we're either all very forgetful, or we have a thief on our hands."
"Hm," Azriel murmured thoughtfully, "A thief that's been watching us since we arrived."
Glancing up, Feyre found Az staring at something to his right. She followed his gaze, and deep in the shadows of inside a tree trunk loomed a pale face and watchful, violet eyes. The girls features gradually reverted to the inner darkness of the trunk as if she were made of smoke and shadow.
Feyre sucked in a soft breath and whispered, "Nova."
Nearly an hour had passed with very few words exchanged. Everyone did their best to ignore the tree, though all were guilty of sneaking glances.
We don't want to scare her away. Rhys' voice echoed through their minds. We wait for her to approach us.
Feyre had a feeling this would be a very long wait. Each time she let her eyes wander to the trunk's opening, she'd see the pair of eyes observing them with quiet curiosity.
She didn't seem afraid.
How did we not feel her presence? Feyre asked Rhys, and while his expression didn't change, she could feel the curl of his smile.
Her shield seems quite advanced, especially with no official training. I haven't a clue how she taught herself.
Instinct?
Maybe.
Cassian finally broke the silence. "We can't be quiet forever," he said, his voice soft, "Maybe she'll be more inclined to investigate if we act…normal?"
"Maybe you're right." Rhysand nodded.
Speaking at a normal volume, some of the tension ebbed away. It did feel nicer, Feyre could admit. Maybe Nova had been feeling the emotional strain, too.
The stew was finished, and the fish were cleaned and cooked. Feyre held her fork in her hand, but she couldn't bring herself to take the first bite. She was hungry- starved, but knowing Nova sat inside a tree trunk not ten feet away, turned everything in her mouth to ash. Instinctually, she wanted to give Nova every last bit of the food on her plate to ensure she had a full belly and avoid the twisting pangs of hunger.
"I know it's difficult," Rhys murmured gently, "But she needs to see what our normal is. To know we are not a threat to her. We can't approach her yet, even to offer food."
Feyre nodded, swallowing hard. "I know that," she glanced toward Nova and found the eyes were gone, hidden in the shadows. "Do you think she's been out here since the fire?"
"It seems the likeliest scenario," Az nodded, "Nobody ever reported seeing her, at least."
"I agree," Mor added after tasting the trout, "If Zaylor is the only one to have seen her, she must be cautious about being noticed."
Cas pursed his lips and smiled a little. "You think she's allowing us to see her now?"
"It's possible she feels a connection toward us. Like a level of trust she doesn't understand," Rhys responded.
As the sun set below the trees and dusk turned to night, Nova never ventured from her tree.
"We can take shifts," Az suggested. "If she leaves, we'll at least know which direction to go in."
"I'll take the first watch." Cassian offered and shook his head when Feyre opened her mouth to argue.
"You both are exhausted, and she might be more active during the day. You'll want all your energy in a few hours."
Rhys squeezed her shoulder and smiled softly. She knew the situation wasn't ideal for him either. They'd both like to never sleep again if it meant they could talk to her, even just once.
The hours of patchy sleep left Feyre feeling groggy, but the moment she reopened her eyes, she rolled over in the sleeping bag and looked directly at the hole in the tree.
"She hasn't come out," Az whispered, and Feyre looked at him. He and Cassian must have switched off sometime in the night as he was the only one awake. With a soft sigh, she nodded and sat up to stretch.
"Go ahead and sleep. Rhys and I can watch through the day." She leaned over a bit to look deeper into the hole and frowned, "You'd think she's not even there."
"That's because she's not…" Rhys murmured, slowly sitting up with his head tilted back.
Feyre and Azriel looked up, and there, crouched on a branch, was Nova. Her complexion wasn't as pale as she originally appeared, though it made sense she wasn't sun-kissed. She hadn't had much direct sun exposure in this climate. The amount of rain that fed the moss ensured that. Still, she didn't look sickly.
"She's your spitting image, Rhys…" Feyre murmured, and she was right. She knew she was right.
Nova looked like a female version of her mate. Younger, yes, but the similarities were striking.
"Hm, the eyes, maybe," Rhys smiled against her temple, though he didn't take his gaze off Nova, who stared down at them, with dark brows furrowed in curiosity, "But that expression is all you. I have a feeling…" he whispered in her ear with a purr, "She has your brazened attitude."
Nova wore a long, black cloak that covered her from her neck to her ankles. Her feet, which gripped the tree bark with natural ease, were bare. From where they sat, they could see the accumulated dirt and grime on her skin and hair.
Nova tilted her head to the side, assessing them.
She held intelligent eyes- cunning even. It was no mystery how she'd survived these years on her own. Listening and learning from the environment around her. Now, she was suddenly faced with something strange and new. She refused to take her eyes off them.
Feyre tried to stroke against her mind lightly but was met with a wall nearly as impenetrable as stone. But even stone could be porous- should she try to pry?
"If she's not been around people for…twelve years, do…" Feyre frowned. "Do you think she understands us? That's so long to be without anyone to talk to, and if she was three…"
"She probably lost anything she had learned." Rhys finished her thought with a whisper. A deep sadness weighed his shoulders.
Their daughter probably knew only what she'd learned living alone in the forest all those years. She wouldn't know how to speak- to communicate. How would they explain what had happened? How would Feyre tell her she loved her more than life itself?
Feyre wiped a quick stray tear from her cheek just as Rhys took her face between his hands, "We teach her; that's what we do," his eyes devoured hers, "No matter how long it takes. We will take her back to Velaris when she feels safe. She will learn to speak and read and she will learn that she has a family that loves her." Rhys stroked another stray tear with the pad of his thumb.
Feyre's lower lip quivered slightly. "What if she never wants to leave?"
Quiet for a moment, Rhys swallowed. "Then I suppose we bring part of Velaris to her."
"She hasn't come down at all?" Mor asked, glancing up at the branch Nova was still perched on. She'd moved a little bit. Just enough so that her back was against the trunk, but still stared down at them with intense, watchful eyes.
Feyre shook her head, looking up. "Not since she went up."
"I can't believe Az never even saw her," Cassian smirked, "Losing your touch there, shadow boy?"
Azriel rolled his eyes, but it was apparent it did bother him a little. "I have no idea how she managed it."
"Well," Feyre shrugged as she took a small bite of bread Mor had picked up at the bakery a little while ago, "Remember when Zaylor talked to us? About that night? He'd said all the sound went off in the woods. That he'd thought he'd gone deaf."
"You think she manipulated Az's ability to hear her?" Cas arched a brow. "That's… very impressive."
And a little scary, Feyre internally admitted.
"Maybe we're wrong about her," Mor nodded, "Maybe she has had training of some sort."
They all ventured a peek at her in the trees, but she wasn't looking at them anymore. She was staring off into the distance, head lowered as she slowly rose to her feet. At first, Feyre thought she might jump down, but then her lip curled, and she scuttled further up the tree. This time, the mossy branches covered her completely.
Panic filled the area- Nova's panic. It was her uncertainty that felt as tangible as smoke.
"She was over there!" A man chortled somewhere through the trees. "Yeah, real pretty, too. I swear! They'd pay big for someone like her."
So Nova hadn't stayed as secret as she'd likely always tried. Sometimes, even the worst lot was bound to catch a glimpse of her. It was evident Nova had had run-ins with these men before. What had they done to her? Everyone slowly rose to their feet. The playful smiles from moments ago were gone, replaced by rigid, angry features. These were the faces they wore at the Court of Nightmares, but this wasn't an act.
It wasn't a show.
The Illyrian Warriors were ready to defend and protect their star in the tree.
Feyre walked alongside Rhysand and Azriel toward the offenders, who grew louder with each passing second, while Cassian and Mor guarded her tree.
We can't let them continue hurting vulnerable people. In these woods or anywhere.
I know, Rhys responded.
It rained a lot.
Far more frequently than Feyre was used to. She wondered if the weather was why Nova stayed here for so long. It was at least flourished with life, letting her live off the land without running the risk of drought. A few days passed since Azriel had taken the two men away from the area to…deal with. When he returned, he didn't say a word. No one asked, but everyone knew.
Nova knew.
Later that night, she slowly crawled down her tree. She stayed a safe distance away, but rather than hiding in shadow, she'd leaned against the trunk and silently observed them. Occasionally, she'd disappear, and there would be no sign of her for an hour or two. Then, she'd suddenly be there again.
How much of their conversations could she understand?
Currently, they all sat around the fire, bracing the rain. It hadn't stopped since earlier that morning, making it nearly impossible to keep the fire going without some persuasion from Feyre's gifts. She kept the flames from dying as Rhys lifted his wings to cover their heads. Az used his to cover Mor's, and Cas covered his own.
Glancing over at Nova, she sat under the tree's sparse coverage. While the moss helped soak up the rain that fell around her, the branches above didn't hold well as water trickled down onto her head. She looked half drowned yet seemed utterly unbothered.
Occasionally, she'd tilt her head back and let the water run over her face.
Cas chuckled and mused. "I wish I could be as at peace in cold rain as she is."
Feyre and Rhys couldn't help but exchange a smile.
The next night. Nova sat two feet closer. And the night after that…three feet. Each day and night that passed, Nova's spot to watch them was closer. Foot by foot, inch by inch. Until finally, on the eighth night since they'd first seen her in the tree, she sat right next to the log Feyre sat on.
Feyre slowly looked over as Nova took her seat. Her eyes swam, and she smiled at her curious, intense expression.
"Hello, Nova."
Everyone held their breath, eyes on Nova as she stared at Feyre and slowly tilted her head before her gaze settled on Rhys. He smiled, too, but said nothing. Nova's eyes drifted up to his wings tucked neatly behind his back. She watched them for a long time before looking to her left at Az, Cas, and Mor.
Nova stared longest at Azriel.
"I think she remembers you," Feyre whispered. If Nova hadn't looked so much like her father, she and Az would have been twins in the way they stared at each other. So serious and intense.
The corner of Az's lip turned up just a little. "I don't think that's possible, Feyre." He murmured.
"Who's to say what's possible?" Mor smiled softly, watching Nova. "She's alive. After all these years, against all odds…she's alive."
Nova's attention was drawn to the fire, but when she started to reach forward, Feyre jolted.
"It's hot!"
It was instinctual, but it was all it had taken to undo the bit of progress they'd made.
Nova's eyes widened as she scrambled backward. Within seconds, she disappeared into her tree hole. Feyre put her hands over her mouth, eyes wide as hot tears streamed down her cheeks.
What had she just done?! How stupid could she have been?!
I've ruined it. I've ruined everything!
"Hey, easy," Rhys took her face in her hands, "It's okay-"
Feyre cut him off with a soft gasp. "It's not okay," she groaned as nausea rolled through her stomach, threatening to bring up her dinner, "It took days to get her this close. DAYS, RHYS! What was I thinking?!"
He shook his head. "You weren't thinking, Feyre. Because you are her mother. You protected our daughter. If you hadn't, she'd have been burned."
Rhys rubbed gentle circles against her back to ease some of the tension and calm her.
Mor said, "Feyre, if she'd gotten hurt by something we wielded, she might think we intentionally hurt her. It's better for her to be startled by our voice than think we set something to burn her."
The logic made sense, but the guilt and agonizing weight of seeing that look on her face couldn't settle her stomach.
Feyre still felt queasy even an hour later when a snarling scream ripped through the night.