“You’ve got all that magic, and you were Made yourself, even if it wasn’t by the Cauldron. You trained—you are a warrior. Can’t you find it?” Again, that silence. But a different kind. Like a thunderhead about to break. “No,” Feyre said quietly. “I can’t.” She looked to Rhys, who nodded, his eyes shining. Everyone watched Feyre now. But Feyre’s attention remained fixed upon Nesta. “I can’t risk it.” “Why?” Nesta snapped. “Because I’m pregnant.”
AAAAAHHHHH OMFGGGGGG
