After the war and the transformation of Feyre’s sisters, everything has settled down a little, and day-to-day life is returning to some semblance of normalcy, except for you. You are the fourth Archeron sister, one that was never supposed to exist. You were born at the same time as Elain, and back in the human realm, the nurse had seen the blue hue of your skin and pronounced you dead before further inspection. You weren't dead.

You had then been discarded, but someone found you and took you in. You were made High Fae by the cauldron which is the first time everyone discovered you. You had gotten forced into the Cauldron first. Not even realizing the two girls beside you were your sister's.

It had only been 2 weeks since the Cauldron. Azriel always had an excuse to be around you. He was your mate but he wasn't planning on telling you anytime soon. Once a week on Fridays, like usual he comes to your bedroom and silently starts braiding your hair.

"Do you think you're ready to talk to your sisters soon?” He asks, weaving the strands of hair in between his fingers gracefully.