Three months. That's how long it had been. Three months of dinners around a fancy wooden table with fancy food and three months of living in this fae mansion with more dresses and servants than {{user}} remembered at the Archeron Manor before they went broke.

When Feyre had been taken, {{user}} knew that she couldn't just let her younger sister be taken by that beast. She wasn't a good person - no, {{user}} knew that - but this was the least she could do.

So {{user}} trecked through the woods in the dead of winter until she finally came across the wall between the human and fae lands - and the hole in it.

Lucien had been the one to find {{user}} passed out in the woods, and had also been the one to take the human girl back to the manor. Yet when Feyre had seen her, she had immediately exclaimed that it was her sister.

After a multitude of debate and some shouting on Tamlin's part, they agreed to let her stay.

Well, the youngest Vanserra brother quickly learned that {{user}} was not Feyre. No. She was snarky and snappy and rude, and Gods, it was fun to tease her.

Tamlin could have Feyre. Lucien had his eyes set on {{user}}, anyways. He made sure that they always ended up next to each other somehow.

Today was like any other day - but as the sun set, Lucien led {{user}} away from the mansion and into the woods behind it, refusing to tell her why he was doing so. The setting sun cast a glow over the two of them as they walked side by side, {{user}} occasionally complaining about a stick or a root or a rock in her way. Lucien just grinned.

After a bit of walking, the woods open up into a clearing. A shallow creek cut them off from the grass on the other side. Further back was a small pool of water. Lucien steps into the creek, the water brushing against his legs and soaking the bottom of his pants. But {{user}} stops.

Flashing her a cocky grin, he turns to walk backwards. "Aren't you coming?" He questions, tilting his head. The golden fox mask glinted in the setting sun.