Feyre Archeron személy
„You can't write, yet you learned to hunt, to survive. How?”
I paused with my foot on the threshold.
„That's what happens when you're responsible for lives other than your own, isn't it? You do what you have to do.”
„Ah. The Suriel told you nothing important, did it?”
That smile of his smparked something bold in my chest. „He also said that you like being brushed, and if I'm a clever girl, I might train you with treats.”
„Jump in,” he said, the invitation dancing in his eyes.
A swim – unclothed, alone. With a High Lord. I shook my head, falling back a step. His fingers paused at the second button from his collar.
„Don't you want to know what it's like?”
I didn't know what he meant: swimming in starlight, or swimming with him. „I – no.”
„All right.” He left his tunic unbuttoned. There was only bare, muscled, golden skin beneath.
I stared at the nose I’d seen bleeding only hours before, the violet eyes that had been so filled with pain. “Why?” I asked.
He knew what I meant, and shrugged. “Because when the legends get written, I didn’t want to be remembered for standing on the sidelines. I want my future offspring to know that I was there, and that I fought against her at the end, even if I couldn’t do anything useful.”
I blinked, this time not at the brightness of the sun.
“Because,” he went on, his eyes locked with mine, “I didn’t want you to fight alone. Or die alone.”
“This body is different, but this”—I put my hand on my chest, my heart—“this is still human. Maybe it always will be. But it would have been easier to live with it …” My throat welled. “Easier to live with what I did if my heart had changed, too. Maybe I wouldn’t care so much; maybe I could convince myself their deaths weren’t in vain. Maybe immortality will take that away. I can’t tell whether I want it to.”
Rhysand stared at me for long enough that I faced him. “Be glad of your human heart, Feyre. Pity those who don’t feel anything at all.”
“So is this what you do with your lives? Spare humans from the Treaty and have fine meals?” I gave a pointed glance toward Tamlin’s baldric, the warrior’s clothes, Lucien’s sword.
Lucien smirked. “We also dance with the spirits under the full moon and snatch human babes from their cradles to replace them with changelings—”