Starlight had fallen in Velaris as Nesta opened her bedroom door. Her feet met the cool hardwood floor as she pattered quickly down the hall. The townhouse had been quiet since Feyre had left, and while Mor continued staying at the House of Wind. Azriel and Cassian had been confined to the townhouse. You made me believe that I could trust you! You lied to me and now look what's happened! I'm stuck in this retched body because of you. She had said to him days prior when he demanded why Rhys had let her see him so wounded. In the back of her mind she felt a twinge of pain, suffering, but mistook it as her own.
Even more so Nesta knew this wasn't Cassian's fault. But the fire that burned beneath her skin needed to set itself on anything it could find.
Azriel and Cassian had both been moved into their own rooms on the bottom floor while Nesta and Elain had taken up refuge in Feyre's old room. There was another room available but Nesta wanted to keep her sister close. She wouldn't take the chance of letting her sister out of her sight again.
Her feet stopped in front of the door that led to Cassian's room, she had come downstairs to fetch herself a glass of water. But there was this pull towards the door, some inner part of herself said go on, open it. Her fingers reached and lightly gripped the brass knob. Finding the door to be unlocked, Nesta pushed the door open and lightly shut it behind her. She leaned against the doorway at the sight of the Illyrian, and his shredded wings. For a moment she found herself praying that they would heal fully. Nesta began to walk across the room; his face was in the shadow of the moonlight entering the window.
Although Nesta had never been in the room she would walk past it on the way to the kitchen and see Rhys or Mor sitting at his bedside. The look of anguish on Rhys's face, not only at his lost mate but also at the fact that he might lose his brother. "An Illyrian's wings…" Rhys had told her, "are their life. If anything were to happen to them that would prevent the Illyrian from flying… Well… Let's just say most of them would rather be dead."
It wasn't as if she wasn't thinking about him, Nesta had a damn good shield to keep up and letting that man break it down was something she couldn't allow. And yet he had. She placed a hand over her mouth as she looked at Cassian's face.
He was dying. This man, fae or not, had promised to protect her against all odds. He reached for her in Hybern as his blood pooled on the marble floor, as his wings were tearing apart. Cassian heard her cries and he reached out for her. She had seen him, the look in those hazel eyes, and the look of complete and utter despair. It made her chest ache.
She took a seat by his beside and stared at the Illyrian beauty that lay before her. He had certainly lost weight since Hybern and had barley spoken to her since she herself had arrived. Nesta could hardly blame him though, the things she had said to him. Bastard-born-nobody. She acted as if he wasn't good enough for her, and perhaps it was the other way around.
The bed in front of her began to shift slightly, Cassian cried out in pain at the pressure he had unconsciously placed on his wing. Nesta gasped reaching out for him and then retracting, his eyes opened to see her sitting beside him. He closed his eyes again and leaned his head back down, that sly grin appearing on his mouth, "Enjoying the view?" he said.
Nesta quickly folded her arms across her chest and scoffed at his comment, "You wish," she said, "You males are all the same Fae or not."
"Illyrian" him clarifying made her blood boil even more.
"Even worse then,"
After a few moments of silence Cassian spoke again, "This is the most decent dream I've had in a while." Her head jerked back up, "This isn't a dream," she said.
The only source of light came from the moon outside of the townhouse. Feyre had been right, Nesta thought, Velaris had the most beautiful night sky imaginable. The moonlight shined perfectly against the army commander's rough features. Even in his current state, the darkness made him extraordinary. "Let me pretend that it is," There it was again, the urge to be closer to him.
"What do you normally dream about?"
His mouth formed a grim line, "I don't dream anymore. I only have two types of nightmares now. The ones where I don't save Azriel and the ones where I'm laying on the cool marble floor in Hybern watching you die at that bastards hands, and me not being able to do a damn thing." She watched as his chest heaved and she contemplated what she saw in his eyes. Was it guilt? Rage? Both?
His fists balled up so tightly she could see the veins that pulsed alone his arms, "I'm going to shred his skin layer by layer for what he's done to you." She shivered at the promise his words held.
"I hope you do," she said.
Cassian studied her face, "Still keeping that mask on? You don't need to do that anymore." When she didn't say anything he continued, "I know you're scared Nesta, but I swear to you that my vow to protect you will not be broken again."
"How are your wings?" she said ignoring his confession.
He swallowed hard before answering, "The healers… they don't know. But Mor says… Mor says that there's hope."
Nesta nodded her head, "There is," he raised an eyebrow to her, "Hope, I have faith that you will heal fully before this so called war starts." They stared at each other for what seemed like hours before she got up and left, without saying another word.
It was the first night since Hybern that Nesta slept through the rest of the night.
The next morning Nesta walked down stairs and saw Cassian's bedroom door wide open, the bed was made up with clean sheets and was completely empty. "He's been moved to the House of Wind," Rhys said leaning against the kitchen door.
"Why?" Elain said before Nesta could speak.
Rhys pursed his lips, "One of the healers came by and told him that he would never fly again." Nesta's hand gripped the stairway; "He thought it would be best to be transferred to the House of Wind for the time being."
"So he's just going to rot away like some coward," Nesta's grip tightened on the stairway.
Rhys opened his mouth but was interrupted by Elain, "He just lost his wings Nesta…"
"And I've just lost my life!" She spat, "You don't see me hiding away from everyone."
"Is that not exactly what you've been doing your entire life?" Rhys scoffed. He walked into the kitchen before either one of them had a chance to retort. Nesta was his mate's sister and while he vowed to love and protect her as Feyre did, he would not stand idly by as she insulted his brother.
Nesta bit her lip as she glared at the empty bedroom. She spent the rest of her day as she always did, in the living room with Elain. But instead of reading or some other mediocre activity she just stared out the window of the town house. She could see how tall and ferocious the House of Wind was. It reminded her of her own heart, cold and lonely. Both had been built that way.
"Nesta!" Elain's raised voice broke her from her trance. She turned to look at her sister, "Are you alright?" Elain asked.
"I'm fine," Nesta said curtly before turning back to the window. It was then the front door of the town house opened and closed, The High Lord of the Night Court leaned against the door. He looked utterly exhausted, Elain closed her book and placed it on the coffee table, "Is everything alright Rhys?" her sweet voice sounded.
He sighed and slumped into the living room taking up residence in his usual armchair. "After the news this morning… Cassian has been anything but cooperative with the healers."
"I thought they couldn't…. heal him," Elain whispered.
"They can't," Rhys sighed his fingers rubbing his chin, "They have told him that the best course of action would be to amputate his wings." Even that caused for Nesta's head to turn away from the window.
Elain's hand covered her mouth, "Mor and Amren are trying to console him right now but… even my efforts are futile. This is something he's going to have to sort out by himself."
"No he won't," Nesta confided later that night to Elain. They all had chosen to eat their dinner in their separate rooms, but no one touched the food on their plate.
"Why do you say that?" Elain said moving closer to her sister who was still staring out of the window at the House of Wind.
"Because if someone's going to tell that Illyrian he needs to get over himself it's going to be me," Elain then realized what the others hadn't. "Go," Elain said.
Nesta raised her brow at her sister, "Not without you, I'm not letting you out of my sight again!"
"Lord Rhysand is a good man, fae, our sister is his mate and has our trust so I trust him as well…. There is a fire that is burning inside you Nesta," Elain's eyes diverted from her sisters as she too stared at the House of Wind, "And I think that you can find a way to extinguish it or at least control it there."
They found an old trunk in Feyre's closet and packed away some dresses and other things that Nesta would need in the house of wind. The trunk was small, old but still in good condition. Elain helped her escape out their bedroom window and Nesta waved hesitantly at her sister before walking down the cobblestone street of Velaris.
It was well past ten o'clock when Nesta began her journey on foot and after an hour passed she arrived at the first of 10,000 steps that led to the House of Wind. She gripped the handle of her trunk and swallowed before forcing herself to take the first step. The fire still prickled beneath her skin with every step that she took.