Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
ANNIE
“That’s better. You have soft hair, Feyre.
” I finally finish brushing the last of the knots out of her hair.
Between her nightmares and her tossing and turning all night for days, her hair was a mess.
It took me all day to convince her to let me help her wash her, mostly because she doesn’t respond often.
I always want to make sure she is okay with my help, because she needs that control.
She stares at the mirror, not really looking at me, not focused on anything, and she is as pale as ever.
She is still sick, still needing expensive medical treatment to live, but Gwen’s aunt is working on a long solution with the scientists in the city.
Between her treatments, her therapy, and the daily healers who work on her, she is rarely alone.
I think we are all afraid to leave her alone for too long, and Finnegan has set up a day plan to make sure she has someone here.
I take every other morning for five hours, like today, and the only one who doesn’t come in here is Gwen…
because seeing Gwen brings back the memories we are trying to help her with.
Today’s not a good day for Feyre, although I’m hoping things will get slightly better as the weeks go on.
I think getting out of this room will do Feyre some good, and meeting people who have been through things too.
The city is full of humans who are struggling after losing their homes, their families and cities.
They turn up here, rescued by the recovery teams sent by the alpha female, and they are never in a good way.
On the days I’m not with Feyre, I spend my time in the camps set up, helping however I can.
I lost my city too, my home, when Starlight City fell, and I can relate to them. I lost my parents too.
“Should we sit by the window and have a look over the city? It’s sunny today, which has been rare this week.
” I babble on to her. I don’t know if she is even taking in anything I’m saying, but I figure it’s best to act normal and have conversations around her like I would anyone else.
“Every day, it has rained and rained, and my hair goes frizzy in it. I end up looking like a scarecrow.”
She listens, I think, as I take her hand, and she stands.
I move her over to the cosy chair by the window and cover her legs with a blanket before blowing out a long breath.
I can’t do much to help with everything that’s going on, but she asked me to help look after her, and that, I am determined to do.
Feyre actually answers. “My father liked scarecrows. He would make them for the farmers in Starlight City and enchant them with runes so they would work well.”
Her voice shocks me, let alone her speaking of her father so warmly.
The only time she has talked to me has always been about trivial things and those small conversations last all of a second before she shuts down.
“You can tell me more about him,” I encourage.
“He sounds like a smart and kind man. It doesn’t surprise me he had two strong children. ”
“He was not strong in the end. He screamed and begged me to help him as he died. I couldn’t.
” Her voice is so emotionless, so empty.
“I knew in my heart that my father would never want me to tell them anything that could hurt Finnegan. Telling them wouldn’t have changed his fate…
he was already dead. I stared at his dead body for three days until they burnt him in front of me. I wish—”
The door opens and Healer Dorothy walks in. She pauses, likely hearing Feyre’s voice. Feyre goes silent, and I touch her hand. “You did the right thing, and you are not to blame, Feyre. You and Finnegan are safe, and he would have wanted that above all.”
She doesn’t respond to me, and I know she isn’t going to.
My shoulders drop and I walk to meet Healer Dorothy at the door.
She winces. “Did I interrupt her, Annie? I’m here to take over for the next couple of hours, and you can take a break if you want.
I didn’t hear her talking from the other side of the door, I’m sorry. ”
“It’s alright, I don’t think she would say much more. Today was good, a new step forward because she spoke of her father a few times. I also helped her shower, did her hair, and got her dressed in something other than pyjamas.”
Healer Dorothy pushes up her thick glasses that have slipped down her nose. Her curly grey hair, cut short, makes her look so pretty. She is my favourite healer; there is something about her that always makes me feel at ease. She has a kind soul, I think. Healer Dorothy stares at Feyre.
“I’ve seen people come back from far worse than this.
From things that are unimaginable, like she went through.
We’re getting everything ready to help with her long term—with the memories, I mean.
Her brother, her only family, has agreed that it’s probably the best method going forward.
It won’t fix everything for Feyre. The fear will still be there, but at least it won’t be something present in her mind every day.
We understand that Feyre has been through enough to break her mind; all of it is sometimes too much for anyone to handle.
We’ll work endlessly, me and my team, until we figure out a solution and Feyre is able to have a life.
It might not be the same life as before, but it will be something good. That, I am determined to give her.”
“Thank you.” I smile warmly and leave Feyre with the healer, shutting the door behind me and heading to the kitchen.
Onyx is there alone, and only Nibbles is sleeping on the sofa.
It’s around midday, so I know Hollis would have taken Franklin out to his daily schooling classes, but I expected Gwen to be here.
Onyx looks so pale in the kitchen, a strangeness to him that wasn’t there before his near death experience.
I don’t know exactly what happened to him, but Gwen made it clear she nearly lost him for good and Severi saved him.
The prince of the Vian is full of surprises.
“Where’s everyone?” I ask Onyx, walking to the fridge and pulling it open. I grab a glass bottle of apple juice and pull out a stool, leaning on the counter.
“They’re all at training. I started earlier this morning—I needed a break,” he explains to me. “I was just making eggs on toast. Would you like some? I have extra.”
“Yeah, that’d be great.” I grin, making myself comfy on the stool now I’m staying. He cooks in silence for a while, and I’m not sure what to say to him. Would it be rude to ask what it’s like to die? If he is okay now, he nearly died?
“How’s Feyre?” Onyx breaks the silence first.
“Well, she let me help her shower today, so I think that’s somewhat a step in the right direction.
It’s difficult. She lost her father, and I know what it’s like to lose all of your family and have pretty much no one left.
But she does have her brother, so I guess she’s lucky there.
” I shrug a shoulder. “Trauma…it affects everyone differently. Some people just shut down like Feyre did. I keep going because it feels better not to rest.”
Onyx stares at me, something flashing across his eyes, before he goes back to the eggs.
He makes two plates, bringing them over and setting one in front of me before sitting opposite on a stool.
He offers me a range of sauces before I settle on ketchup, and he has the same.
“Eggs are my favourite breakfast ever since I was a kid. I used to call them pop eggs and pop them like a balloon.” I’m not sure why I tell him that random thing, but he doesn’t laugh at me.
“Me too.” He gruffly clears his throat. A pause stretches where he is just staring at me.
“You alright?” I ask. “I mean, I know you died recently and came back… Does it make you sick sometimes? I’m rambling, and shit, did I upset you? I’m sorry if I did upset you. Sometimes I talk too much—”
“No, Annie, you haven’t upset me.” He stops me mid-rant.
“There’s something I need to tell you, and I’m debating if this is the best moment I’m going to get before the war.
Gwen wanted to be here when I told you, because she’s worried about your reaction, but with everything going on, I just want to tell you.
Just in case. The near death experience was enough to make me realise that I need to take all the opportunities I can in life. ”
“Tell me what, Onyx?” I put my fork down. The eggs and toast sit heavy in my stomach.
“I never knew your parents. Not really. But I knew your mother sometimes, because she would come to the house and bring you along,” he starts, reminding me.
“I remember.” I cross my arms. “It’s getting a bit—I’m feeling like this is really awkward, so you might just want to spit out whatever it is, and then we can move past it.”
“It’s something to do with my father. Was he around a lot when you were a kid? Do you remember him a lot?” He asks me directly, and I feel like the answer is important.
“Yes, he would come often and bring me gifts. He was good friends with my parents, so it was expected.” I shrug. “He’d bring you to see me sometimes when we were really young, and then that just stopped. Do you remember why?”
“Because he was your biological father, and I’m your brother. Half-brother, to be exact.” He lets me have a minute. “I think the visits stopped because he felt guilty or my mother found out. Not sure which.”