Feyre Painted Novels & Stories

Then she smiled radiantly, and turned back to face me. “Um – yes,” I said, unsure about what the correct way to act in this situation was. “Rowan, this is Skye. Skye, Rowan.” They shook hands, and a strange, unreadable expression flickered across Rowan’s face as they touched. Skye was wearing gloves, I thought; maybe she didn’t like the feeling of the fraying fabric. Then she shook herself, visibly brightening. “Are you guys enjoying the Fayre?” “Yes!” I trilled, gesturing at the wild array of pumpkins spread across the darkened meadow. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

he breathes, “You’ll be okay.” I nod, despite the thoughts in my head. Right now, I don’t want to tell him how difficult it has been being alone since my mothers death. “I’ll come back as soon as I can. Keep your guards close, just in case,” he assures me, kissing my check. I nod. But secretly, it doesn’t make me feel any better. *** ~Cal Emerging through the trees, I catch the first glance of Faye’s house. It looms brilliantly over the formal gardens. Even in the dark, it’s magnificent.

“Warning.” “About?” I folded the letter slowly. “Miya.” Midday — Sunroom The scent of paint reached me before I even entered. I stopped in the doorway. Freya sat near the tall windows, sunlight spilling over her shoulders like it had chosen her on purpose. A canvas rested on the stand in front of her, brush moving in slow thoughtful strokes. She was humming. Soft. Absentminded. Unaware she had an audience. I didn’t interrupt. Just watched.

She quietly stepped outside, then hesitated. She stood just a few steps behind him. And her jaw dropped when she saw what was on the canvas. It was a painting of the sea; the same view from the veranda, but bathed in the warm colors of sunset. The waves shimmered, the sky a stunning gradient of orange and violet. It was breathtaking. "That is so beautiful!" Phillian jerked in surprise, the suddenness of her voice slicing through the quiet air like a gunshot. His entire body flinched, his shoulder muscles visibly tensed, and he spun around, eyes blown wide like a child caught watching a horror movie he wasn’t supposed to.

Beckett snapped his fingers and a large mirror, the one from their rooms Bailey realized with a flush, appeared in the corner. She stood and approached it. The person staring back at her still had her face. Higher cheekbones, maybe, but instead of her blue-green eyes she now had slightly slanted gray ones. She moved closer. Around her pupil was a sunburst of citrine. It bled seamlessly into the gray, to be finished with a thick ring of jet black at the edge of her iris. Tri-colored eyes. The eyes of a full-blooded fae.

I could feel my wolf stirring beneath my skin, a primal energy thrumming with the need to break free, to run wild and unencumbered under the moonlit sky. Just as the frustration threatened to consume me, the heavy wooden door creaked open, bringing a rush of cool air into the stifling room. A young pack member named Fayre stepped inside, her slender frame almost dwarfed by the tray of food she carried. She looked around cautiously, her wide eyes darting nervously as if fear lingered in the corners of the room.

It was quiet in a way that felt deliberate, like the city had decided to hold its breath here. I found a spot near the water—an empty lot bordered by crumbling brick walls and a sagging chain-link fence. Beyond it, the East River moved slow and dark, reflecting the bruised purple of the late-afternoon sky. I sat on an overturned crate, opened my sketchbook, and started drawing.

So, this painting was also specially created by Freya to boost my confidence. Touched, I reached out to hug Freya, nodding my head. "Well, Freya, your painting is very uplifting, and I feel immense joy when I look at it." If the previous nightmare affected me, making me anxious and unable to sleep peacefully, this oil painting unexpectedly soothed my inner anxiety. I began to focus on imaging the happy future and finally fell asleep with Freya in my arms. In my dream, Freya and I welcomed a very strong and smart baby.

Feyre’s POV I hadn’t been the one to pack my bags but I found every single thing I needed and a lot more tucked within. I dressed myself for the feast they wanted to have, not really in the mood for a party but feeling too polite to say otherwise. My dress was beautiful and I admired it in the mirror before sitting down to put on some light makeup to hide whatever circles lay underneath my eyes.

His voice trailed off, and Nueva could sense his pain. They walked through enormous double doors into a great hall, and Nueva had to rub her eyes to take in the grandness of this treehouse. A beautiful Fay woman came out from a side door. She wore a green dress made from weaved natural materials that clung to her tall, slender body. Just like the Fay men, she had a green tinge to her soft, flawless skin, and her hair had been braided into complicated patterns across her head under a golden leaf crown.