After the traumatic events in Hybern, Nesta Archeron finds herself stranded in the mountain cabin with Elain. Now High Fae, and desperate to get some answers, she demands the attention of the Inner Circle. This story is told from her point of view.
That cabin. That damned, insufferable, perfect little cabin.
Mor had brought myself and Elain here in the aftermath of our making, told us that we’d be safe and that, if we needed anything, the cabin would take care of the rest. That was it. She’d offered us the briefest of smiles and turned on her heels, rushing out of the door and yelling back that she’d see us again in a day or two.
And now, six days had passed, or, at least I think it was six days. I’d tried to keep track of the number of sunsets since we’d arrived, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if this place had tricked us. Seemed just like the kind of thing those Fae might do. A joke, at our expense. Or, my