Honeyed Pasture Abandoned but not forgotten

Drowning. That’s what it felt like as she stood before the man that had called her his princess. Feyre’s emotions curled up into a weeping ball of pain within her, her every thought flipping through memories of them together. She shuddered outwardly at her last memories of him. The weeks she had spent searching, crying out his name. There were moments she considered the fact that perhaps it had all been a dream, but his scent still lingered like a teasing ghost.

The face snapped back to attention as her eyes caught his movement. It was as if he was approaching an injured doe, utterly aware of the fact that she might bolt at any moment. Truth be told, the thought of being the one to run away swirled around in her mind’s eye. If only I had the strength to hurt him as he hurt me.

His maw opened, and it was not an apology that rested upon his tongue. Instead it felt as though he was weaving another web to catch her with. His words struck a nerve deep within her, causing her clouded eyes to darken with pain. “That you loved me?” She choked on the words. “Perhaps I do not know what love is supposed to be, but I am certain that if you love someone you don’t leave them.” The hurt laced into each word. Months of sadness weaving delicately into every syllable. He had broken her. Played her. Used her. Yet now here he stood, looking at her as if she had fallen from the heavens, and all she wanted to do was be embraced by him once more.