CHAPTER SEVEN.
silena beauregard the love expert

     IN HER dreamscape, nothing was ever that simple.

One moment, Feyre Blanchard was fighting an army of monsters on a hilltop with her sisters, Alina Sinclair and Delia Cromwell, at her side. The girl wielded a bronze sword, holding it tightly in her hand, raising it high above her head as she charged towards another monster. Her sisters both wielded bows and arrows. Each of their weapons marked with the sun symbol that represented their father. Feyre lead her sisters towards the army, slicing the strongest of them down, while Alina and Delia charged after her, shooting arrows towards the smaller and less threatening enemies, giving Feyre and opening to cause more damage.

     One by one, each sister proved themselves on the battlefield, fighting valiantly against the monster army, like sisters in arms.

     However, all of that changed very quickly. One moment they were fighting like warriors. Then the next, Feyre stabbed her sword into the chest of a cyclops and once it faded into ash and dust, so did everything else. The monster army was gone, and so were her sisters. Feyre breathed heavily, dropping her sword to her side while she looked around frantically, scanning her worried gaze over her unfamiliar surroundings. She hoped to catch a glimpse of her sisters who disappeared from her eyes in a matter of seconds, but she was met by a thick layer of white fog that clouded her chances of finding them.

     Feyre quickly became scared, frightened by the mere possibility that something bad had happened to them. Dreams were not real. They were often described as figments of one's imagination. Feyre knew she could tell herself that if she was a normal teenage girl. But she wasn't. And her dreams always meant something. They always held meanings from the moment she first started to experience them. This time was no different. If left the girl terrified, fear shaking her entire body to the core. Real or not, Feyre knew she had to find her sisters before she woke up, before it was too late.

     "Alina!" Feyre called out, the familiar name tearing through her vocal cords. She was desperate for a response, but nothing came. "Delia!" Feyre was tired. She ached. She had hoped to have received a response this time around, but she was met with silence instead.

When Feyre was starting to believe all hope was lost, a deep and menacing chuckle echoed loudly from behind her. Chills ran up and down the girl's spine, littering her body in goosebumps that caused for her to shiver. The harrowing feeling weighing heavy on her shoulders being enough to make Feyre freeze in the place where she stood. Whoever it was standing behind her, it surely wasn't Alina or Delia. She was alone with someone who would be a threat to her life. Maybe not in her dream, but maybe in the near future, and facing them now would make it real. But it seemed like she didn't have any other choice.

     So, Feyre inhaled sharply for a moment, holding her breath before she eventually exhaled, her bottom lip quivering in the process. Feyre then slowly turned around on her heel and when she lifted her gaze, a gasp fell past her lips, standing in complete and utter disbelief at the sight displayed in front of her eyes. It was Alina and Delia. They were standing a few feet away from her on platforms, nooses tied around their necks while they both breathed heavily, tears streaming down their cheeks, but they couldn't dare utter a single word. Standing in between them was a hooded figure, his tatted clothes made up of black smoke. A lantern burned bright next to him, his hand clasped around a lever, the one that would end her sister's lives.

Feyre stumbled backwards in shock, a look filled with horror plastered across her features. But she quickly regained her composure before she raised the sword in her hand, pointing it into the direction of the hooded figure in charge of her sister's lives, holding their fates in the palm of his hand. Feyre wasn't naive. She knew she wasn't the most intimidating individual against such evil, but she had to at least try and fight for her sister's lives, even in the midst of her own twisted nightmare. However, the figure was quick to snap his fingers, causing for Feyre's sword to fade into a puff of black smoke.

Feyre stared down at her hands, watching as the remnants of the bronze weapon slipped through her fingers before she lifted her gaze to stare at the figure. "Let them go," She instructed, speaking through gritted teeth. "Please, just let them go," She repeated, pleading with the strange and mysterious figure standing between her sisters.

The hooded figure didn't say anything at first. That was until his yellow eyes peaked through the black darkness underneath his hood. "Choose," His low and menacing voice bellowed into the deafening silence.

     That was when Feyre realised what he was asking her to do. The hooded stranger wanted her to choose who to save between Alina Sinclair and Delia Cromwell. He wanted her to make the impossible choice of saving one sister, and leaving the other to die a horrible and agonising death. Feyre felt sick to her stomach at the thought, tears prickling at her eyes. That was when Feyre realised the hooded figure wasn't the one in charge of her sister's lives. He wasn't the one who held their fates in the palms of his hands. . . she was.

Feyre lifted her gaze, shaking her head. "I won't choose," She argued, a stray tear beginning to roll down her tanned cheek. She couldn't choose which sister to save. She wouldn't make that decision. She hoped she never would.

However, her response was deemed not good enough for the hooded figure because a violent rumble erupted from below her feet, causing for Feyre to stumble backwards. Once she had regained her balance, she looked up to see the figure click his fingers, causing for the nooses around Alina's and Delia's necks to tighten. Feyre cupped her hand over her mouth, a quiet gasp slipped past her quivering lips while she listened to her sister's strangled cries. They needed her help, and yet, Feyre had never felt more useless than she did right now in this very moment.

     Feyre removed her hand from her mouth, her body beginning to tremble as dread began to sink into her bones. "Please, stop!" She cried. Feyre tried to maintain her composure in front of the figure because she didn't want to appear weak, and in front of her sister's because she needed to be the strong one for each of their sakes. But Feyre Blanchard was goddamn terrified and they all knew it.

     "Choose," The figure repeated, his voice taunting her. "Choose or you will lose them both," He continued, pushing for an answer from the young teenage girl.

Feyre shakes her head once again, her jaw tightening before she stared at the figure confidently, her stern stare digging deep into his soul (if he had one). The girl rolled back her shoulders, her lips parting to speak. "No. I won't choose," She answered, sounding sure of her response.

     Silence flooded the air for a moment, and for a brief moment, Feyre was naive enough to believed that had worked. But suddenly the unthinkable happened. The faceless figure chuckled one last time before he pulled the lever, the rust of the contraption grinding against the mechanics, the harrowing sound stabbing into her eardrums. Feyre gasped when she saw the trapdoors underneath her sister's feet give way, and the last thing she heard was the snap of not just one, but two necks. Before she had the chance to process it, Feyre's eyes opened wide, a quiet gasp escaping past her lips as she lifted the upper half of her body to sit up in her bed.

     Feyre continued to breathe heavily, her eyes scanning over her familiar surroundings, wanting to make sure she wasn't still dreaming. After looking around for a little longer, the girl saw she was now in the comfort of her cabin, surrounded by her sleeping siblings tucked in the comfort of their beds in the midst of the dark summer night. Feyre let out a sigh of relief when she realised she was no longer face to face with the hooded figure with her sisters in mortal danger. She was back in camp where she was most safe. She had the protective magical barrier surrounding the camp to thank for that.

That made Feyre think about her sister, Delia, and how she was travelling across the country in search for a magical item, and if returned before the deadline, would prevent a civil war from breaking out amongst the gods. Feyre thought about how scared Delia was before she even left the safety of the camp. She thought about the harsh and brutal dangers that lurked around every corner as she was travelling with a forbidden child. Delia's life was already as risk because she was an existing demigod. But the threat only increased in the presence of a child that shouldn't even exist.

Feyre sighed again, hoping Delia was safe and sound wherever she was. And now she needed to go and clear her head. So she slowly climbed out of bed, throwing on a jacket and a pair of shoes before she walked through the cabin, opening the door and stepping outside into the dark night before she closed it shut behind her. Feyre closed her eyes and inhaled sharply when she felt the cool summer breeze hit her skin, embracing the nighttime atmosphere for a moment. It was a reminder to Feyre where her reality was. It wasn't the twisted dreamscape she found herself trapped in almost every night. It was here. . . in Camp Half-Blood. 

     When Feyre opened her eyes again, exhaling the extra oxygen building up in her lungs, that was when she decided to take off. The girl walked past the other cabins filled with sleeping children before she ventured across the camp on her own. There was something almost peaceful about being out in camp late at night. It was quiet. So quiet she could hear her own breath leaving her lips. The camp was always full and chaotic, filled with eager campers looking to become warriors like their godly parents that there was never a moment of tranquility.

     Feyre continued to walk through camp until she found herself on top of a hill in the quiet meadow where other kids and herself came for archery class. It was rare to see the area look so empty compared to normal. And then the closer Feyre got to the edge of the hilltop, she saw that it was in fact not empty. She saw a figure kneeling down in front of what appeared to be a small fire within an old tin can. Feyre could hear a faint female voice murmuring words to the fire, but she couldn't quite place her finger on what was being said, and then she finally recognised the voice to be Alina's.

     Feyre furrowed her brows together at the sight, frowning in the process. "Alina?" The girl called out, a mix of confusion and suspicion laced in her quiet voice.

The sound of her voice was enough to make Alina look back at her for a moment before she scrambled to put the fire out in front of her. Feyre continued to approach her until the fire was gone and there was nothing but darkness swallowing the sisters whole. Feyre stared down at Alina, watching as she kicked away the tin can, almost like she had something to hide, like she was trying to erase evidence of something. Feyre didn't understand her sister's secrecy, so she decided to question her further. "What were you doing?" She asked.

     Alina looked between Feyre and the mess she had made for a moment, silence falling between the two girls before she let out an awkward chuckle, shaking her head. "Nothing. I was just...trying to contact dad," She answered, stammering over her words, almost like she was trying to scramble together the perfect excuse, glossing over the truth with a fabricated lie.

However, Alina never had a reason to lie to Feyre, and the girl knew that. The pair told each other everything. So Feyre chose to trust her response, smiling down at the girl for a moment before she planted herself into the tall grass next to her. "You don't have to be embarrassed about wanting to talk to him, you know?" Feyre reminded her sister.

"I know..." Alina replied, pausing for a short moment while she stared down at her hands. She looked as if she was ashamed. "I know you said a while ago that it was foolish to think he cared about us, and you're right. I mean, not once did he help me after my mom died. I just wish I could speak to him. At least once to get some sort of explanation," She explained further, lifting her gaze to meet her sister's once again.

     Feyre shot her sister a reassuring look, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips in the process. "It's not a bad thing to want an explanation. You went through a lot in those foster homes after your mom died. Not once did he help. The least you deserve is an explanation," She elaborated.

Alina shook her head again, letting out a sigh. "I feel so stupid," She admitted.

"Hey, don't feel stupid for wanting what you rightfully deserve...justice for yourself and your mom," Feyre countered.

Alina stared back at her older sister, sniffling quietly. "Do you think he cares about us at all?" The girl asked.

Feyre glanced back at Alina for a moment before a shaky breath escaped past her lips. "Truth is, I don't know. I want to believe the gods care about us, and maybe they do. But not in the way we deserve," She confessed. "I think that they don't have a good enough reason to be absent parents. The same goes for Apollo. He might be the man who gave us life, but he'll never be our dad. Not really," Feyre continued to speak, her gaze softening. "But we can be better than him. You are better than him." Feyre's words were enough to make her sister smile warmly back at her.

     "Thank you, Feyre," Alina replied, sounding almost grateful for the kind words. "So, what are you doing all the way up here this late at night?" She then asked, deciding to change the subject.

     Alina's innocent question was enough to make Feyre shiver. She was lucky that her sister didn't notice due to the dark night surrounding them. But it didn't make Feyre feel any more secure. She was lost and scared, basking in the aftermath of her own harrowing dreams. There was a slither of fright that coaxed the girl into wanting to tell her sister the truth. However, if there was one thing about Feyre, her dreams were never just dreams, and if there was a chance one of her sisters could die, that was the last thing she wanted to speak into existence. She didn't want to scare Alina with something that may not happen for a long time yet. Something that could still be prevented.

     So Feyre just shook her head, a gentle smile plastered across her lips. "It was just another dream. It didn't make any sense so I just came out here to clear my head," Feyre explained, hoping Alina would drop it, and thankfully, she did. "Maybe you could distract me?" She then suggested, sounding hopeful in the process.

Alina was quiet for a moment, turning away from her sister while she thought quietly to herself about all the different things she could distract her with. Feyre Blanchard was an endless shroud of mystery, so wrapped up in her own head that half the time, she would forget that Feyre kept secrets. Sure, they told each other everything, but even Alina had her own secrets, and so did Feyre. There was always one secret Alina wanted to know about her sister. She never questioned her about it because it was never her business. . . now she was deciding to make to her business.

A mischievous smirk tugged at the corners of Alina's lips, the girl turning back to Feyre with a glimmer of excitement twinkling in her dark, brown eyes. "So...you and Luke, huh?" She inquired, quirking her brow with suspicion.

     The second Feyre heard her name along with Luke's stringed together in the same question, she wanted to vacate the hilltop immediately. Feyre was aware that people often believed her and Luke were more than just friends. She saw the way they looked at them. She heard all their comments, and how Luke was labelled her boyfriend although it was never the truth. Feyre wasn't some naive little girl. She knew what the entire camp thought about her and Luke. But whenever it was actually brought up into conversation, she wanted to shut down and disappear.

"And on that note...I'm going back to bed," Feyre suspended, bringing the topic to a standstill while she made an attempt to stand up and leave. Alina, on the other hand, was already two steps ahead and quickly grabbed Feyre's hand with her own, bringing her back down into the tall grass.

     "Nope. You don't get to run away when I ask you the difficult questions," Alina argued, causing for Feyre to let out a sigh filled with defeat. Alina then nudged her sister, her smirk turning into a tight and excited smile. "So, spill..." She then encouraged.

Feyre rolled her eyes in response before she shrugged her shoulders. "There's nothing to tell," She replied. Her words were enough to make Alina's smile falter for a second, a disappointed look washing over her tanned features. "Come on, you know Luke and I are just friends," She reminded the girl, emphasising her words in hopes to make it sound much more believable.

Alina shot Feyre a look, a quiet scoff leaving her lips. "I know you guys can never take your eyes off of each other. And he's always there for you and vice-versa. You guys get each other on an emotional level that neither of you have with anyone else. If given the chance you would go to hell and back if it meant he would be safe. I could seriously go on..." She explained.

"Fine, then..." Feyre paused, her gaze meeting her sister's eyes before she smiled back at the girl. "And where's your proof for all of this? I know you didn't come up with all of this information yourself."

"Silena Beauregard is more than just her looks, you know. That girl is a mastermind when it comes to love...her mother is Aphrodite after all," Alina admitted truthfully. "She said that you guys have the perfect physical and emotional connection for a relationship. And she said it was obvious that you and Luke have feelings for each other. But you either won't admit it to each other, or you guys are so blind to it that it's actually painful," She elaborated further, a proud look burning bright in her eyes.

     Feyre pulled a face, furrowing her brows together in the process. "Silena Beauregard is a thirteen year old girl. What does she know?" She questioned.

"More than you clearly," Alina argued, and Feyre couldn't help but laugh in response. "Silena and the entire Aphrodite cabin are placing bets on you guys. It's quite entertaining actually—"

"What?" Feyre interjected, cutting the girl off for a moment.

Alina nodded her head. "Yeah. They're trying to guess who will admit their feelings first. Most bets are on Luke by the way because Silena said that boys admitting their feelings for a girl first is adorable. And they're predicting—"

"Alina, don't you think you and the entirety of the Aphrodite cabin are in over your heads here?" Feyre asked, chuckling awkwardly with a sheepish grin etched across her lips. "I mean, Luke and I are friends. And even if we did feel something more for each other, which is unlikely, why would I risk ruining a perfectly good friendship?" She continued to speak, hoping to elucidate the matter.

     Alina then grabbed her sister's hand with her own, giving it a tight squeeze while she continued to stare deeply into Feyre's gaze. "Feyre, I say this wholeheartedly because you're my sister and I love you. But you need to wake up and acknowledge how you feel for Luke deep down before it's too late. He's a good guy. He's good for you. And he makes you happy. The smile on your face whenever he's around is out of this world. Plus, you spend so much time worrying about everyone else that you never take time to think about what you want," She reassured her.

     "I don't mind looking out for you," Feyre countered. "I'm your sister. We look out for each other. That's what sisters do."

     Alina nodded her head in response. "And I am looking out for you by making sure you don't throw away something that could be the best thing to ever happen to you," She replied, sincerity and admiration dripping from her delicate voice. Alina then clocked her head to the side, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "And you saying that you don't think you could ruin your friendship over a maybe is stupid by the way...because you and I both know the greatest love stories of all time were never easy," Alina reminded the girl, and Feyre couldn't help but smile to herself.

     Was that what her and Luke could be — a love story for the ages?

Truthfully, Feyre Blanchard had only thought about Luke as more than a friend on various different occasions, but they were never long lasting moments. They were nothing more than flickers of desire that soon fizzled out in a small matter of seconds. Feyre didn't even feel that spark all the time. Only when their eyes would meet during deep and heartfelt conversations, or when Luke told her all the right words she needed to hear. She would feel that burning sensation in her cheeks whenever he complimented her archery skills, or her musical abilities. She would feel her heart burn when he touched her, like a thousand bolts of electricity searing into her skin.

And that was when Feyre Blanchard realised the inevitable truth — she was falling for Luke Castellan.

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authors note.
This is kinda short but it's just a filler chapter to set up Feyre and Luke's relationship development. Plus the following chapters are probably going to be really long going forward and will jump between Feyre at camp and Delia on the quest a lot so...
And what do we think about Alina? What was she doing before Feyre showed up and interrupted? And what about Feyre's dream? Or was it a vision of the future? 👀

But I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and I'll update again soon!!