Feyre Painted Novels & Stories

He dipped the tip of a feather into a small container of black fluid; the next he scribbled it on the light-colored sheet to create several lines of tiny symbols on the surface. A feather? Raeherys lifted a brow, giving the chronicler a puzzled look. This guy must be crazy. Then he leaned to whisper in the Lawdra’s ear. “What is happening to him? What is he doing?” “I do not know,” Fetyr showed a funny look, “But I find his strong interests in our isles quite oddly entertaining.” Estevan paused from whatever silliness he was doing and raised to meet their eyes, his eyebrows in question. “Is something wrong with my face?”

She finally felt at home with people who would love and care for her as much as she loved and cared for them. They didn't have much time to look at each other before Freya's mother grabbed her hand and gave her a paintbrush. Freya did a great job on the tie clip design, so she asked her to make a design for something else. Freya used a pencil to make a rough sketch. She wanted to make something warm and classy like Silas 's mother. She had a hard time adding colour with paints, though. She feared messing them up because she had never used them before.

Amren spitted. "Yes! And so what?? I want his life, I created him because I want his life and so what? The most funny and beautiful part in all this is.....there's no one to stop me from achieving all these" She threw a seductive look at Amren and Amren felt like throwing up when Feyre winked at her. "But for now, I can start by sucking in your skin so the facade becomes even more believable when Rhysand arrives" Feyre grabbed a small table knife from the tattered and dusty table as she headed towards Amren who kept shaking her head in denial "Do not use that on me"

“Go! Fetch the King!” The younger maid fled, skirts swishing. Freya tried to sit. Her limbs felt like stone. Her bones hummed with residual power. The fire inside her hadn't gone out. It was burning brighter than ever. Something was wrong. Or right. Or both. Her vision blurred for a breath, and in the mirror across the room, her eyes flashed. Not green. Electric blue. Lightning. A color not born from blood, but from a storm. Her mark flared beneath her collarbone. It lit the room in a pulse of silver light. Curtains fluttered. A candle near her bed guttered and died without warning.

Behind him were the charred bodies of Aynyra, Valor and Aerys, faces still twisted in screams of terror. The vision faded, leaving the image of Rhae's burning blue eyes standing over a burning kingdom. The fire swirled again and came back, showing the glimmering Fae city in the moonlight. Then she saw herself, standing on a cliff beside Icran, her hands outstretched as fire burst from her palms and enveloped the city, setting it ablaze.

Cronus spoke aloud, “She showed such promise in training and we were all excited to see how far she could go. She is survived by Dreyma Caulret who managed to survive into one of our most strikingly beautiful avian fae variety.” Freya’s picture was put up on a stand by Lyra. It was our standard enlistment picture that we had taken when we first showed up to our notice. She was wearing a simple green jumpsuit and her hair was pulled back. This didn’t represent Freya at all. She was a girl who let her hair down. Dreyma’s counterpart and someone who was meant to stay with us after we crossed the barrier. We had a secret plan to keep her and Dreyma together just so they didn’t have to always won

Tears filled her eyes as she tried to take them in. Aidan rested his hands helplessly on the pillar in front of him. "This isn't just about being the fairy mother, if...if" Aidan stammered. "If the wolves were to find out we'd be damned," Peri cut in. Both Peri and her advisor Aidan were worried and they assured themselves to just let it be a secret as they appoint her youngest daughter, Saria, as the Fairy mother. "Mother!" A young fairy was approaching. Saria was a fine young fairy with eyes like sunlight and hair blonde. She was slim-built and considerably tall for someone her age.

“Am I dreaming?” Freya mused as she stared at the sky. It was swirling with many vibrant colours and when she blinked it was still there, beckoning to her. She sat up, looking around her to find that she was still in the same spot. She was lucky, none of the creatures out here took advantage of her but she was so parched that she couldn’t find it in her to be grateful to anything. She picked herself up and dusted herself off, then looked into the skies again. The colourful skies was the only point of colour in the entire greyscale landscape and as she watched, patterns formed in the sky, looking like it was pointing in one direction.

Sprouting his wings, Layke rushed after the wolf. Nia’s paws collided with the ground, thundering against the surface as she chased after the faerie. She could sense the faerie’s fear, her scent reeked of it when she had turned to see Nia gaining in on her. She was so close, so close to portal Nimue had created in case something went wrong. She could see it, it was right there in front of her, just a few more steps, just a bit quicker.

“Queen Fae, it’s the makeup.” “Even without makeup, you shine like the beautiful mermaid you are.” “Well… Queen Fae, how can you also be very beautiful in your fairy attire?” “That’s because you made me the most beautiful dress.” I couldn’t believe how Nayara looked ethereal tonight. People will surely look her way once she walked among them. There’s also Lumara, who is shining in her custom-made phoenix attire, and Snow in her beautiful fox dress. We owe it all to Nayara, who tirelessly worked on our wardrobe through the night.