#Azriel x elain smut

[birdsinmywalls]

It’s here!! I told myself I could wait until tomorrow but I had to read it the second I saw it! Love how intimate the snapping ceremony was. Even though they don’t want to be together the fact that they have to hold hands and then they have this moment where they look at each other and agree the tea is gross without saying anything is are great intimate moments to have even with people who are not together. Honestly I feel bad for Sarah J Maas because you wrote a great scene here and if this is truly going to be the plot of the next book she’s going to have to out write this beautiful fic. Specific lines I loved and thoughts below the cut!

“Azriel, ever the traveller, albeit for work, was always bringing her back either a packet of exotic seeds or a new recipe from a cafe or hotel he visited.” Aww that’s really sweet of him!

“He may be her “soul-mate” but he is not her type.” The brutal honesty is so funny!

“Need I remind you that I own my body, it’s not for you to ogle or have an opinion about,” she spits,” Ooo! Get him!

“his only request was that he stay in another house, paid for by Rhysand” lol everyone’s always trying to spend Rhysands money and take his stuff

“I just want her to be happy,” Lucien shares, solemn and defeated.” Not to empathize with Lucian but that’s such a sad comment. Especially because he thinks she’s not attractive so idk why he was insistent on being with her.

“She sighs, resting a hand against the wall, “Would you be alright if I stayed here for the time being?” She asks the house.” Love that she’s talking to the house! That was such a fun development in the book.

“Her book, chocolate and wine are now on a little side table near the bath. The bath smells of roses and jasmine, the bubbles float over the room as they escape the tub, the lights are dimmed, and everything is perfect.” It sounds perfect and I am jealous!!

“This is the same headache powder you gifted me, well,” omg I LOVED when she did that! So funny!

“There is such a remarkable light cast upon him,” she swoons. “It’s no wonder he’s followed by shadows.” GREAT LINE OMG

“Sometimes the second bond is stronger than the first, sometimes it’s the more important bond. The first mate was to teach a lesson, the second was for a lifetime of happiness.” I really like that idea

“He picks her up then, making her squeal slightly, “I will tell you in the comfort of your bed, where you should be.” Melting!

“He’s seen the hurt first hand and yet he wanted me to stay with him, to endure a loveless life, simply so He could have a better connection with the human queen.” Damn it’s true though! Rhysand’s always thinking big picture even people get hurt.

“reminding you how loved you are, making you feel so happy that your shadows turn pink.” What a cute idea! It would be so cool if that was something they learned how to do together; make his shadows change colors.

“Is it from Nesta’s collection?” Another breeze. “How fast does it take effect?” THE HOUSE LOL Such a great wing man lolol

“It’s then that the magnetic pull becomes something more.” EEE OMG

“and that doesn’t hurt your wings at all, laying on your back?” She worries, sitting up as well.” She’s such a sweetheart

“everything I’ve ever wanted and needed wrapped up in one. You are going to feel so loved.” they are so perfect for each other I can’t even!

“It drapes over them like ivy and wisteria taking over a house, blooming eternal purple, white and pink blossoms all around them. Growing wilder as the years go on. She was covered in him, he was covered in her. This was how it was always meant to be. “ I could cry I’m so excited for them

“Take me with you, I want to see the look on his face when he realizes what happened,” cheeky as ever.” Good for her! I’m so excited she’s expressing her agency like this!

A Court of Seeds and Sight

Elain x Azriel

Summary: After 6 months apart, Elain sees the way Lucien looks at her new, healthy, body and it reminds her of her mother. The look of disappointment. The look of never being good enough. A reminder that she's spent most of her life letting others make choices for her. she decided in that moment that she's hand enough. While standing up for herself, Lucien suggests they dissolve the bond, letting her go free.

What happens when she's staying at The House of Wind to recover and the male she's dreamed of, the male she's wanted to pick for herself for over 2 years now, is there with medicine and goods to help her feel better?

Warnings: light fatphobia, severing a bond, made-up lore (i had fun making it up) hurt/comfort, the house of wind is my favourite character in this, First kiss, first times, oral sex (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, new bonds snapping into place, lovemaking, rough sex

Word count: 10.6k

She knew he was there the moment he walked into the house. 

There was a little tug on the bond, the first she’d felt in 6 months now. Where Lucien lived in the human realm, as well as his visits to the spring court, both places brought him out of the bounds of their bond. She went most of the year without feeling him, having heard from him through her sister and her mate, but Elain hasn’t felt him. 

And what a blessing that had been. 

She has been working in gardens all over the city, bringing florals to the night court in a way that keeps their traditions in mind. She’s made hanging flower baskets for lamp posts, displays for windows as well as potted trees and bushes on the street. Bat Orchids, black Dahlia, Persian lily, and Dark Dimension. Black and blue and purple roses. Hollyhock and Hellebore. All darker flowers, but the feeling is still the same. She wanted to bring life and beauty to the city that changed everything for her. 

When she’s not in the garden covered in dirt… she’s in the kitchen covered in flour. Both activities include help from her favourite fae. 

Azriel, ever the traveller, albeit for work, was always bringing her back either a packet of exotic seeds or a new recipe from a cafe or hotel he visited. She’s planted everything, either in her greenhouse outback or in little pots scattered around the house. She wanted them to last, and the best way to do that was to keep them in their desired environments. Food-wise, he mostly brings home recipes for pastries and baked goods. Only a few times has there been a savoury dish, which she made for the whole family for dinner, upon Az’s request. 

The tug on the bond pulls her away from her baking, she’s working on lemon pastries. A fluffy, puffed pastry with lemon filling and a delicious icing drizzle on top. She makes them in a variety of flavours, this one happens to be Azriel’s favourite. 

“Can you watch these for me? Take them out if I’m not back when the timer goes,” she asks Cerridwen and Nuala. They both nod, knowing where she’s going, as they also feel everything going on in the house, stronger than she ever could. 

She makes her way towards the main entrance, wiping her hands off on her apron, she’s only going to greet him because it’s right. It’s a nice thing to do. She doesn’t like him more than an acquaintance, he’s her sister's work partner… he’s important to their court but not to her heart. And she feels awful about that. But she’s heard the stories, she knows that not all bonds are happy. Most of the people she’s met have horror stories about how much their parents hated each other, but the bond needed them together to procreate. Because the cauldron knows what offspring will change the world. Like Rhys himself, his parents were not meant to be, but the world needed him. 

She could put up with Lucien, she could tolerate him. She just couldn’t imagine sharing a bed or making children with him. He may be her “soul-mate” but he is not her type. He was not the male she would willingly choose if she had the choice. 

“Lucien,” she smiles at him. 

He looks her up and down, taking a step back to do so. But it’s not in the usual way he looks at her. He’s taking in how much she’s changed in the half a year he hasn’t seen her. 

She’s put on some weight. For the first time in her life, she has had the luxury to do so. Eating well, lounging in the sun, reading in her room and cuddling with her nephew. She’s not working out like her sisters, she doesn’t have a job that requires her to be able to kick ass in a moment's notice. She’s done what she’s always wanted to do; put a little meat on her bones. And she loved it. 

“What?” She asks, slightly offended. 

“Nothing… I’m just surprised,” he explains, unable to stop staring. “You’ve… changed.”

And it’s not the good kind of staring. His eyes are sharing with her more than she would ever hear leave his mouth. This isn’t the fae he’s been imagining in his daydreams these last few months. His look is one of disappointment, wondering why the Cauldron would match him with someone he’s also not attracted to. 

“Need I remind you that I own my body, it’s not for you to ogle or have an opinion about,” she spits, feeling the fire in her blood, having never related to her older sister until this very moment. “I never wanted this stupid bond, I don’t need your opinion of me. I’m happy, I’m healthy and I’m blessed to be able to reach this size, so if you don’t like it… you can fuck right off.” 

She honestly can’t believe those words just left her mouth. But she stands a little taller, glad that it did. 

He can’t believe it either, “the apple doesn’t fall far in your family, does it? I never even said anything and yet you were ready to pounce on me like a wild animal. Like that human side of you is still perfectly intact.” 

“I understand we have to keep things cordial for the court, however, if I never had to see you again it would be a day too late,” she continued without a second thought. “My sister and the high lord need you and your alliance, I understand that perfectly, but I am not a pawn. I am not here to keep the peace. I trust you’re a good man, that you can keep up the alliance even if things between us aren’t good.” 

“Then let’s get this retched bond removed then, shall we? The last thing I want is to be shackled to someone who could never even give me the courtesy of pretending to love me,” he spits right back. 

“We can do that?” She asks, shocked she never knew it was an option. 

“We need a priestess and a few days rest, but it can happen,” he explains. “Do you have a preferred priestess or shall we just walk into the nearest temple and see who’s available?”

“I’d prefer Merrill a the House of Wind.” 

Knowing she’s a strict witch of a fae, from Nesta’s stories, there was no one else she wanted to sever this, no one else she wanted to deal with Lucien than her. 

—

Rhysand and Feyre winnowed them in, having spoken to both of them about the risks of separating the bond as well as what this would mean for the court. Lucien agreed to stay emissary, his only request was that he stay in another house, paid for by Rhysand when visiting and that they meet there or at the house of Wind for meetings, so he didn’t have to see Elain again. They understood perfectly. 

“We’ll be back in an hour,” Feyre explained, a hand on Elain’s arm, wishing her luck. She simply gave her sister a smile in return, showing she was ready, albeit a little nervous. 

The happy couple flew off after that, leaving the others to start their quiet walk to the temple inside the mountain. 

Merrill meets them at the door, pissed off as usual. She blinks at them, arms crossed, “I have cleared the temple for the next hour while we do this, no matter how much it stings or the emotions you are feeling, the male must be gone when the hour is up. This is a safe space for the priestesses who live here, I am not ruining it for them. No matter who you are.” 

“I understand,” Lucien agrees, no real fight left in him. 

Inside the temple, they walk past rows and rows of pews towards the front, where a rock is draped with a light blue silk runner and topped with two cups of tea and a book. 

“Do you know the risks?” Merrill asks. 

They both nod, having learned from Rhys that severing a bond wasn’t a difficult act, it was the after-effects that were the most challenging. They could feel sick, possibly emptying the contents of their stomach and unable to consume more. The headache from losing the bond can be anywhere from an annoyance to mind numbly painful and there is a chance they could slip into a year-long melancholia. Sleep helped, but not by much as the cauldron often retaliated with terrible dreams that would keep them up. 

They were both willing to do whatever it took to get rid of this thing. 

“Are you absolutely, 100% sure, you want to dissolve the bond?” Merrill asks, staring them down. The stone above her hood shone in the faelight. Glaring at her. This was real, this was serious, and there was no going back. 

Elain nods, “Yes, I’m sure.” 

“I just want her to be happy,” Lucien shares, solemn and defeated. 

“Alright,” Merrill just pushes through. “Join hands. I’m going to say a couple of prayers, then you’re going to drink the tea and you’ll feel it happen. It can be painful, like holding a metal wire as it snaps, it can whip you as it ricochets.” 

That made her swallow sharply, she wasn’t sure she was ready to hurt again, but if it meant freedom— then the hurt would be worth it. 

Taking Lucien's hand in her own, it feels weird to touch him for the first time since they were bonded by the cauldron. It starts the moment they grip each other's hands, she has no idea what Merrill is saying, it’s in the old language. It sounds beautiful, but she has no idea what it means. She can feel it, there’s a hum that rushes through her and

She’d never experienced an earthquake before, and yet the way her body shook during the prayer had her concerned that it was not just her rumbling. It feels as though the whole world is reacting to the bond being severed. She tries her hardest to keep a brave face, standing on wobbly legs is difficult, however, the shaking stops as soon as the prayer is complete. 

Merrill hands them each a cup of tea, allowing them to stop holding hands for a moment. Pulling away doesn’t feel as intense as she expected it to. If him simply leaving a room used to make her heart ache, physically separating should’ve felt more intense. The prayer essentially numbed the feelings. The tea would snap the bond. The priestess continues her chants while they drink, all but chugging the warm liquid down. It tastes very earthy, almost as if she was drinking bark and dirt… she never even asked what it was before they did this. 

They both look disgusted as they bring the cups down, staring into each other's eyes, unable to hear the other's thoughts but it was evident. That tea was gross. 

They wait for Merrill to finish her prayer and then it happens. 

The snap isn’t as intense as she expected. It feels like walking through the woods and tripping over a root. It pulls from the earth and breaks against the ankle, leaving a welt, but nothing more. No sprain, no twist, just a slight ache. She’s able to walk away from it. 

She looks at Lucien once more and there’s nothing there. Her heart doesn’t flutter, her mind doesn’t race… she simply looks at him the way she would look at a stranger on the streets. He’s just there. 

“How do you feel?” Merrill asks. 

“Fine,” Elain answers while Lucien bows his head. 

“Terrible,” he whispers. He reached up to hold his temples, “what was that?” 

“Olive tree bark tea,” she explains. “Olive trees are a distant cousin to ash trees. it’s not as potent or deadly, it gets the job done.” 

“Can I leave now?” Lucien asks, turning away from them the moment Merrill starts to hum in agreement. 

She doesn’t hurt at all. Her heart is fine, her head is silent… she’s just empty. 

“Thank you, Merrill,” she gives the priestess a small smile. “I appreciate you taking time out of your day for this. Is there anything I can do to repay you?” 

“I’ve heard rumours that your family recovered the harp. In my previous research, I was developing a theory that there are multiple universes stacked on top of one another, upwards of 26 universes, actually. I heard the harp has 26 strings. I would like to study it. Can you put in a good word with the High Lord and Lady for me?” 

She nods, “I’ll see what I can do. That sounds very interesting, I’m sure they’d want to know more about these other universes as well.” 

“Be well, I’m doing the dusk service tonight if you need anything, you’re welcome to join us,” Merrill shares a rare smile and then she leaves, heading off into the back rooms of the temple. 

Elain starts the trek back to the balcony, where she’s meant to meet Feyre for her ride back to the river house. Lucien is staying at the townhouse, he’ll be leaving with Rhys first. She’s given him more than enough time to leave by now. But she doesn’t want to. Leave that is. 

She sighs, resting a hand against the wall, “Would you be alright if I stayed here for the time being?” She asks the house. 

In response, the lights flicker down the hallway, telling her to follow. She follows their lead, all the way to the bedroom she used to occupy when she first arrived in Velaris. Only it’s different, it’s brighter. There are plants and flowers on the tables, hanging from the veiling and vines wrapped around the 4 poles of her bed. Speaking of, the sheets are a beautiful pink, soft silk and topped with the fluffiest pillows. There’s a book on the bed, beside a tray of chocolates and a bottle of her favourite wine. 

“Oh, I love you,” she swoons, holding her hand over her heart. “This is the most beautiful spot to recover. You are so wonderful to us.” 

The house simply sent a warm breeze her way, wrapping around her face and shoulders as if to hug her. 

Within seconds, she can hear footsteps approaching her room and she knows it’s her younger sister by the way she floats down the hall. She stops at the open door and smiles, “You’re staying here, correct?” 

She nods, “how’d you—

“You dislike nothing more than feeling like a burden, here you can recover alone with the help of the house,” Feyre smiles, knowing her too well. “I packed you a few outfits, mostly sleepwear because I don’t expect you to leave the bed for a while. I will be here in 3 days, waiting in the entryway around mid-day, if you’re there I’ll bring you home. If not, I’ll give you another 3 days. Send word if you need me.” 

“Thank you,” she reaches out to take the suitcase but the house handles it for her. Taking it with its magic, the house puts everything away and sets out a fresh set of sleepwear on the bed as the bath starts to run in the other room. 

“You’re in very good hands,” Feyre approves. “I love you, and I’m proud of you, I hope you know that.” 

“I know,” she smiles back. “I’ll see you soon.” 

Once Feyre is gone, she closes her bedroom door and heads right to the bathroom. Her book, chocolate and wine are now on a little side table near the bath. The bath smells of roses and jasmine, the bubbles float over the room as they escape the tub, the lights are dimmed, and everything is perfect. 

She strips, gets into the bath and just sighs. “I expected to feel awful,” she shares. “I just feel free.” 

Her glass is filled with wine then as if the house is telling her to just lay back and enjoy the freedom. So she listens, she takes the wine in one hand, the book in her other, her eyes raking over the summary. 

It’s a romance, one she knows that either the house loves or Nesta does, either way, it’ll be raunchy and delicious. The main character is a florist, she has just escaped a terrible relationship with a man who didn’t appreciate her. Thinking she’ll be alone for the rest of her life, something unexpected blooms with the man who delivers her orders once a week. She hums, it sounds quite interesting, so she flips to the first page, takes a sip of her wine and settles into freedom. 

—

Before she knew it, the bubbles and wine were gone, and the bath water was still warm thanks to the house, as she reached the middle of her book. Hours pass, her body is pruned from the water and limp from how relaxed she’s become. She sighs, “Can I have a bookmark?” She asks The House. 

On the table by her empty wine glass, a clear, acrylic rectangle with dried flowers trapped inside appears. Around the flowers are gold flakes, her name is engraved into it with gold. It’s beautiful. “Thank you.” 

She gets out of the tub, and dries off with a beautifully fluffy towel only to walk naked back into her room to don her silky underclothes and slip into bed. “May I please have some soup… something creamy and hearty?” 

Then,  a beautiful creamy soup appears on a tray on her bed. She stirs her spoon around, noticing the bits of broccoli, shredded carrot and cheese and cubed chunks of potatoes. All her favourites. And then she notices the bowl, it’s a crusty sphere of bread hollowed out to hold the soup. “Thank you, this is exactly what I wanted.” 

She devours the soup, peels apart the bread bowl and savours the remnants of the creamy soup on the crunchy bread. It’s life-changing, she feels full and warm, happier than she has felt in a while. A little drunk from that whole bottle of wine, however, the bread offsets it. The tray disappears once she is done, and her book reappears on the bed. Candles are lit around the room, the curtains are still open to let in the last of the daylight while the faelight over her bed brightens just enough for her to read. 

She’s another 3 chapters in when there is a knock at the door. 

“Come in?” She says, unsure who would be home. Nesta and Cassian are in Illyria training younglings for the next week. 

The door opens slowly and quietly, the shadows bellow at his feet and she knows instantly. Her best friend has come to check on her. 

“Az,” she smiles. “I didn’t know you were back tonight?” 

He smiles right back at her, “I went to the river house, I left the new seeds I found in the greenhouse. Nuala told me where you were…” 

“I’m okay,” she assures. “It didn’t hurt. Did you know they used olive tree bark in a tea to do it? Apparently, it's in the ash family, it’s not enough to maim but it did the trick.” 

“I did not,” he looks instantly worried. “I did, however, bring you something…” 

“Come in,” she beckons him in closer. Closing her book and resting it on the bed, she pulls her sheets up over her chest to keep her modesty and watches as he sits on the edge near the end, resting against the post. 

“I went to see Madja,” he explains, pulling a few things out of the inside pockets of his jacket. “This is the same headache powder you gifted me, well, a new one, but the same kind. And these are ginger candies, they’ll help with any nausea you may feel. Have you eaten?” 

She nods, “The House made me some lovely soup.” 

“Good,” he nods, looking down at the bottles in his hands with a smile. “I’m going to be sleeping here tonight, you know where my room is?” 

“Just above mine,” she points upstairs. 

“Exactly… ask the house to make my lights flicker 3 times and I’ll know you need me, you don’t need to leave the bed if you don’t wish to,” he explains. “I’ll leave these here. You should get some rest.” 

“Thank you, Azriel, I really appreciate you.”

His smile is remarkable, “this is what friends are for.” 

His shadows leave the room first, leaving him to place the bottles on her night table and saunter off after them. As soon as the door is closed again, she waits to hear him retreat upstairs but it’s impossible. He’s so quiet, he stalks around like a cat on the prowl no matter where he is. So after enough time has passed, when she knows she’s alone again, she sighs. “He’s so… wonderful.” 

The house blows a wind that shuffles the pages of her book to what she expects is a random page, only it’s not. The love interest brings the main character flowers she doesn’t sell in her shop, something exotic and new just for her to behold. For no reason other than he wishes to see her smile. And suddenly she gets it, why the house picked this book for her out of the entire library both private and the extensive one below them. 

“There is such a remarkable light cast upon him,” she swoons. “It’s no wonder he’s followed by shadows.” 

A second book appears on her bed. 

‘Bonds, Mates and Why The Cauldron Fates Them.’

She’s quick to pick it up, flipping towards the first page, she starts to read as fast as she can absorb the knowledge. She should’ve looked for a book like this long ago, should’ve asked questions about bonds and how they come to be and how they dissolve. She always just assumed it would be there until one of them died… she never wished that upon him, never once. She just assumed that was how it would end. 

Turns out, the cauldron makes such bonds either because it knows the union will be fruitful, that the children they’d bring to this world will be of great power or importance. Children like Rhysand, he was born to be a leader while his parents could barely stand each other. Meanwhile, Cassian’s father stepped out on his bond mate, doing the foulest thing a male could do to a woman and creating one of the most important warriors to grace the world in the last 5 centuries. 

The bonds aren’t set in stone, while they can be wonderful and loving and everything two faes could ever dream of… they could also be awful. Like Lucien’s own mother and father. Beron is an awful man, controlling and mean, it’s unknown if he’s abusive but from the stories told. The atrocities that he’s committed, it’s not a far stretch to consider that he hurts her. The Lady of the Autumn court is strong, she’s stayed put and dealt with what the cauldron forced upon her— even in those 10 years she was with the Lord from the Day court. She stayed, she raised her children and she’ll be free when Beron dies. 

Maybe that’s why Lucien let her go. Why he would suggest dissolving the bond rather than dealing with it for the rest of time? Sure, he was already close to 500 years old, he could live to be 500 more and he was not going to shackle her to himself the way his father did to his mother. She needed to find a way to thank him. Maybe in a century when they got over this, she’d send him a fruit basket. Or a new fur throw. 

The more she read, the more she understood. 

It’s not unheard of for someone to have 2 bonds in their lifetime. 

After the death of the first mate, a second bond can snap into place. It’s happened to young widows and widowers alike, bringing them a second chance at happiness for the rest of their time here. Other situations in which a bonded couple gets bonded to a 3rd fae are more unlikely, but it still happens. Polyamorous bonds are rare to come by, seen only once or twice in a millennia, they can include upwards of 5 fae, at least in recorded history. She couldn’t even imagine how that would work. 

There was still hope for both herself and Lucien. He could get another bond, he could find his true soulmate out there… or he could just love someone and be loved the way he deserves to be loved without a bond. It’s not the end all be all. Maybe he’s meant to be with Vessa? Or Vessa and Jurian… they all live together most of the year, and he loves them quite a lot. Anything could happen now that he’s also free. 

Bonds snapping into place at first sight is common, that’s what happened with herself and Lucien. Others exist your entire life and you don’t know until the snap reverberates through you, like what happened with Feyre and Rhysand. He knew it longer, he could always feel her out there, it wasn’t until she started to fall in love with him that she began to understand what it was. That the bond was meant to be there. They were meant to be. 

Nesta and Cassian had a similar situation, the bond lingered from their first meeting and became stronger on the battlefield when she called after him. Grew more powerful after that first kiss when he thought he was dying… it wasn’t until she accepted it, until she announced with her whole being that she loved him, that it snapped into place for good. 

Azriel’s never had a bond. He loved Morrigan for centuries to no avail. He slept with countless fae… he’s gotten close to Elain herself, so close she thought he would kiss her. So close she could smell how much he wanted her. Only for something, or someone, to scare him off. 

Rhysand didn’t often go into her mind, it was typically Feyre who did. Often to share gossip or wish her goodnight from the other side of the river house. But Rhys was in Azriel and Cassian’s mind often. Barking orders, sharing jokes and simply catching up. He loved his brothers, but he loved his court more. She suspects that’s why he was so… so official while speaking to her and Lucien this afternoon. He was willing to do anything to keep Lucien in their good graces, to keep him as emissary. 

What wouldn’t he do?

She puts the book down, breathing heavily as it all hits her. He only called their almost kiss a ‘mistake’ that day because Rhysand was in his mind, telling him to back off, so that he didn’t have to pick between Shadowsinger and Emissary when the fight for her hand officially broke out. Because he would always pick his brother, he just didn’t want to have to.  

“How long after breaking a bond can another emerge?” She asks, watching as the house flips the pages of the book to the near end. The light shines on a specific paragraph more than the others and she knows she has her answer. 

Within moments of a mate's death, a new bond could snap into place. It’s happened in recorded history a handful of times, usually during war. A male would pass and his female, working in the infirmary, bonds to a wounded soldier. A female passes from sickness and her mate, standing beside her lifelong friend at the funeral, bonds to the only person who loved her as much as he did. Sometimes the second bond is stronger than the first, sometimes it’s the more important bond. The first mate was to teach a lesson, the second was for a lifetime of happiness. 

She feels her heart in her throat, her breathing still heavy, her thoughts racing to all the possibilities. Was this why she was so drawn to Azriel? Why she never bonded with anyone in all his years? Why it didn’t hurt when the tether snapped on her end, unlike Lucien's instant pain? 

Before she can even register it, she’s up and moving, out of the room and down the hall. Up the stairs and around the corner. The house makes the lights flicker, drawing Azriel out of his room in an instant, and having them meet in the hallway. 

She keeps walking until they’re millimetres apart. She places her hand on his chest and looks up into his dark and stormy eyes. “Tell me the truth.” 

“About?” 

“Why was it a mistake?” 

“You know,” he breathes. “The seer always knows.” 

She just smirks, “I will not talk down about your high lord… but sometimes he’s a royal pain in my ass.” 

He just smirks, “he spent centuries perfecting that quality.” 

She lets out another sigh, being this close to him just feels so right. Like there’s a magnet pulling her towards him. “Please tell me you feel it too? I don’t want to skirt around it for months like my sisters did.” 

“I’ve felt it for almost 3 long years now,” he whispers, his voice so low it reverberates through her, going right to her core. 

“Tell me about it?” She requests, “I want to know your mind, I want to know how you think. Walk me through it.” 

He picks her up then, making her squeal slightly, “I will tell you in the comfort of your bed, where you should be.”

Around the corner, down the stairs, through her hallway and into her bedroom. The books have been removed from the sheets, and more candles have been lit while the lights have been dimmed down low. He places her on her bed, waiting for her to pick a side before getting in himself, “where should I start?”

“What you felt when we first met?” 

“I thought you were so strikingly beautiful when I entered your house the first time,” he explains. “Like Cassian, I already knew I would do anything for Feyre’s family, but the way I would kill for you… that scared me. I hadn’t felt so strongly about a female in— maybe ever? I loved Morrigan, I thought she was beautiful. She is beautiful. But you, you changed everything about how I feel. I was noticing the beauty in everything after you, I was stopping to sniff flowers and following scents on the street just to bring you a baked good just so I could see the joy on your face. There is nothing I love more than seeing joy on your face.” 

She blushes hard, “I feel the same about you. Making the recipes you bring me, showing you how the seeds have bloomed into flowers, those are the best moments of my life.” 

“Even in the worst moments of my life, all I could think of was you,” he whispers again, almost afraid to admit that. “When you were taken, everyone warned me I might not make it back. They thought it was a suicide mission… I knew I would get you back, if not for me then for your sisters.”

“I have never experienced Rage like I did during the war,” she shares. “Kicking that beast off you, feeling your blood on me, it scared me. what I could do if you died.” 

“I think I’m pretty indestructible now,” he teases. “I’m not going anywhere on you.” 

“Until you have another accident in the middle of nowhere,” she pushes back. “I’m never going to ask you to not be the spymaster, but I will ask that you always, always make it home to me.” 

“Home?” He asks as if he wants to know where that is. 

“we could get a little tent and live in the woods for the rest of our lives and it would still be a home because you’re there beside me,” she assures him. “But I was thinking… I love the river house. I love my friends and the kitchen and my garden. I’d like to be there every day, no matter where we end up living together.” 

“I can ask Rhys if I can build a home on the property, a little 2-story house, just big enough for us, so you can walk over there every day,” he offers. “I have more than enough funds to build a castle, too, if that’s what you prefer.” 

She just smiles, “We can live in the townhouse, or maybe even the house of mist until it’s ready… I have a feeling if the bond snaps into place, we’re going to be just as bad, if not worse than the others.” 

He laughs, that beautiful hearty laugh she doesn’t get to hear often. Not unless they’re alone or everyone is drunk… before he can reply she sighs, “I love you. I really do.” 

A blush creeps up his face, “I love you. More than I can explain, I love you in ways I never thought possible for me.” 

“It’s possible and it’s happening,” she whispers, moving in closer to him. She cups his cheek, staring into his eyes. “I’m just so glad it’s me.” 

“Me too,” he whispers back, a thickness in his throat that lets her know there are more emotions buried behind his stern exterior. “Can I ask… can I ask what happened that made today of all days, the day that you decided to leave him?” 

“He looked at me… and I saw that same look my mother used to have. You see, I never had the privilege of being my own person, growing up. I had to stay skinny, I had my eyebrows plucked and my hair had to be long and I wasn’t allowed in the garden because pretty girls don’t get dirty. When she died, I had 3 years of peace. I didn’t go to as many balls, I wasn’t interacting with the princes and dukes she wanted to marry me off to. It was just me. And I put on weight. Just a little, enough to not see my ribs and round out my face. But it was a weight that I chose to gain. It kept me warm, I liked filling out my dresses. And then we lost all our money and I went back to starving.” 

She watches his face as he catches on, he looks her over, “You’re so healthy now, you’ve just made yourself even more beautiful, somehow. As if that was even possible?” 

She gives him a little smile. “I know, and not in a conceited way. This is how I prefer to look. I like having strong arms from carrying around bags of soil and heavy cement planter boxes. I like having thick thighs and a tummy and I like that my cheekbones aren’t as striking anymore. I love looking in the mirror and seeing myself now. Because I got to make the choice to look like this. I get to wake up every day and make choices for myself.” 

“And the bond, it wasn’t your choice.” 

She shakes her head, “it reminded me of my mother. She always wanted me to marry well. And what’s better than a male who’s the heir to not one throne, but 2?” 

He sighs, “I wanted to tell you there were more choices out there. That you didn’t have to suffer through it.” 

“I have words for Rhys when I get back,” she assures him. “He watched not only his mother but Morrigan, get pawned off to men who didn’t love them. He’s seen the hurt first hand and yet he wanted me to stay with him, to endure a loveless life, simply so He could have a better connection with the human queen. I don’t know if he didn’t realize it, or he's so used to thinking of the greater good that my happiness wasn’t on his radar, but it hurt. It hurt to see both my sisters so happy in bonds they chose, with males who love them, while I didn’t.” 

“I snapped at him that night, after our almost kiss. I never thought it was fair that there are 3 of you and 3 of us and yet only two from each family got to be happy.” 

“I’ve felt that too,” she admits. “I never wanted to try and make it work with Lucien. I was just going to be cordial with him until the time came when I had to have his babies or… and I never wished for this, but I knew he’d pass away at some point and I’d be free to love someone for real.” 

Before Az can even validate her feelings, she continues. “And then he showed up today, I felt his presence and I went out to greet him and he looked me up and down the same way my mother would. I could read it in his face that I was no longer the female he dreamed about, I wasn’t the same fae he envisioned all these months he was away. And something snapped in me. That fire that lives in both my sisters just spewed out and I lost it on him.” 

Az smiles, “yeah? I heard the house almost shook.” 

She shakes her head with a smile, loving when he teases her. “In that moment, I only thought about myself. For the first time in my life, no one was standing in front of me to protect me or talk for me or anything. For the first time in my life, the words I needed came to me and I said them. I didn’t want him. I had never wanted him. I was put into this body against my will, I was bonded to him against my will and I was suffering for it… and I thought about all those seeds you brought me. How they were never meant to be here, most of them have never been in the night court, even clipped in a bouquet. But I managed to grow them, give them life, feed them, protect them and help them flourish. I wanted to flourish, too. So the second he said we should get the bond dissolved, I jumped on it. I had no idea it was a possibility, either it was kept a secret from me or it just hasn’t been done in so long that no one thought to mention it— either way, I wanted it. We did it. And now, I’m free.” 

“And you always will be free,” Az assures. “Even if we don’t bond, even if this pull that we feel for each other is just love… I shouldn’t say just. Love is so powerful on its own. There are millions of couples in this land who love each other without a bond. I want to love you for the rest of my life, in whatever capacity you want from me.” 

“I would enjoy being Mrs. Shadowsinger,” she teases, making him laugh as he pulls her in close. She tucks her face into his neck and breathes him in, “If we don’t have a bond, I still would like to have a huge, disgustingly expensive wedding. I want everyone in the world to know I picked you. That it was my choice to pick you, it was my choice to let my heart keep loving you the way it desired to.” 

He soothes his hands down her back, kissing the top of her head. “It feels like a dream… hearing you say all these things.” 

She pinches him, making him roar as he slightly shoves her away. Elain giggles, so abundantly happy it’s pouring out of her. “See, you’re awake.” 

“And you’re a menace,” he retorts. 

She pushes him so he’s flat on his back and straddles his hips, looking down at him, “I have dreamed about teasing you like this for years now. Making you blush, reminding you how loved you are, making you feel so happy that your shadows turn pink.” 

He laughs, “We could try.” 

“I want to kiss every part of you. I want to know every scar and freckle and tattoo. I want to know your body as well as I know my own… but we can’t tonight.” 

He understands, “Are you feeling okay? Headache or nausea? Are you tired?” 

She shakes her head, “I haven’t taken the contraceptive tea since I was a human… since I gave my maidenhood to my previous betrothed.” 

He takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, “And you haven’t bled since becoming fae?” 

She shakes her head, “I never really had them as a human either. Madja said that was likely because I was so underweight, now that I’m healthy, it should happen in a few months.” 

He nods, “so tomorrow, or the next day, when you’re feeling up to it, we’ll go to the apothecary and get what you need.” 

“Aren't they open all night?” She teases, making him smirk. “I’m kidding, we can go tomorrow.” 

Just then, a steaming cup of tea pops up on her night table. “Oh, mother?” Elain stares at it and then back at him. “Is that—“A warm breeze brushes past her, a silent yes from the house. “Is it from Nesta’s collection?” Another breeze. “How fast does it take effect?” 

A book drops on the bed, turned to a page that starts with the world ‘instantaneously.’

“She is amazing,” Azriel compliments. 

“My sister?” 

“No– well yeah, but,” he laughs. “I mean The House.” 

“How do you know they’re a she?” 

“The way they take care of us, the motherly touch, the love… no male soul could compare.” 

The house takes the book back, leaving a chocolate that Elain knows to be his favourite in its wake. 

“Do you have a name?” Elain asks, now sitting against the headboard with the tea in her hands, “I always want to thank you, but I don’t know your name.” 

Another book appears on the bed, the title of the book is ‘Nameless.’ It’s a book about creatures who’ve lived on this earth so long that memory fails to recall their names. 

“So take some time, look through all the books in this house and pick a name that suits you. You have the choice now,” Elain explains. “Pick a name and we’ll make sure everyone refers to you as such.” 

More candles are lit around her room, and rose petals are on her bed and around it. The curtains are drawn, the fire roars in the corner fireplace… and they’re suddenly alone. 

Elain chugs her tea, drinking down every single last drop, he sighs once it’s gone and passes the cup to Az to place back on the night table. “I’m nervous.” 

“Me too,” he agrees. “But… I’m more nervous for a bond than the lack of one.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I don’t know how to ask for a week off,” he teases. 

“Well… we could just stay here, have the house lock the doors knowing Rhys can’t winnow in, we just don’t have to leave for a week.” 

His eyes get darker as he crawls over her, resting between her legs, holding himself up with those deliciously strong arms of his, he looks like a feral animal about to pounce. “I like the way you think.” 

“Go easy on me?” She whispers, visibly nervous now. “I’m practically a virgin again, it’s been so long.” 

“Don’t worry,” he assures, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek and then her nose. Her eyes close and he takes a moment to kiss both eyelids. “I’m going to treat you so well, my love.” 

She blushes, “are you going to kiss me for real, or what?” 

He balances on one arm, cupping her face gently, he watches her close her eyes as he brushes his nose against hers. She feels as if time stops, she’s frozen in anticipation for what feels like forever until his lips are on her. 

It’s then that the magnetic pull becomes something more. Stars explode behind her eyes, she wraps her arms around him so tight, pulling him flush against her body as if she can’t get him close enough. Their souls become one, she is his and he is hers. 

He wraps his arm under her, pulling her in just as close. Her legs wrap around his hips, pressing his groin flush against her heat. His lips part, introducing her to his tongue, she hums into his mouth, not yet confident enough to moan… his hand slips down from her cheek, over her breast, noticing the hardened peaks of her nipples. He palms them, trying to entice more noise out of her. 

She’s heard from her sisters just how sensitive the Illyrian wings are, so she reaches up, running her fingers over the silky membrane as seductively as possible, making him shiver… he grinds against her, hard in his sleep pants. That’s what makes her moan against him. Knowing she’s contributing to his pleasure, that he wants her just as bad as she wants him. 

She brushes over his wing again just as he pinches her nipple between two fingers, moaning in tandem this time. He kisses the side of her mouth, along her jaw and down her neck, leaving her to pant as she stares at the ceiling. This is real. This is happening. She has Azriel in her bed, soon to be inside her, too. Her whole body heats up at the thought, wetness pools between her legs and within moments, Azriel’s kisses become nips and sucks, his tongue and teeth on her neck, leaving marks as he feels down her sides towards her hips and pulls her up against his hardened cock once more. He grinds against her, slow yet forceful, showing her exactly what is to come. 

“Az,” she whines, face pink as her sheets, she can’t believe how needy she feels and so fast. “Please? Touch me, please? I need you. I need to feel you. It’s been too long.” 

He smiles against her, fiddling with the hem of her sleep shirt, “can I take this off you?”  

“Gods, yes!” 

He sits up on his knees, pulling her forward, he slips the top off of her and tosses it to the floor. She lays back down and she watches his eyes rake over her makeup upper half, “sweet mother…” 

“Your turn,” she breathes. He looks at her confused so she sits back up, gripping his shirt in her hands. “I want to see you.” 

He simply grips the front of it and pulls it, tearing it off his back, she hears the sound of the seams ripping and the cotton tearing before the fabric is chucked on the floor beside her shirt. She presses her hand to his bare chest instead, the tips of her slightly chilled fingers running over his heated abs, down towards the tuft of hair leading down and disappearing under his pants. “All of you,” she adds. 

“You first,” he interjects, getting her to lay back once more, she lifts her hips as he starts to tug at her bottoms, freeing her from the fabric. 

He’s quick to kiss her stomach, spreading her legs before she can make him take his own pants off to make things even. He kisses her all the way down, over her mound towards her hip and then the crease where her leg meets lip. Breathing her in, his eyes roll back in his skull, “fuck,” he groans. “Can I? Please?” 

She nods as if her head is on a spring, dying to experience this. She’s read about it, dreamed about it… she all but pushes her hips against his face as he drags his tongue along her sex. She moans, back arching off the mattress, she grips her breast and allows him to continue however he sees fit. 

He kisses her most sensitive spot, sucking on it gently before lapping up her wetness, sticking his tongue deep inside of her to gather it all up. His nose bumps her clit as his shadows come up to play with her. Black swirling smoke circles around her breasts like mini tornadoes, playing with the hardened peaks of her nipples, she drops her hands to her sides, gripping the sheets for dear life as she feels him everywhere. 

In the 2 years she’s been left with just her own hand and imagination, it’s never been this easy for her to feel her climax approaching. It usually took a while, multiple imaginations, moving positions, adding more fingers… but Az, tongue deep inside of her for this short amount of time, has caught her stomach aflame. The heat spreads through her whole body, the blood in her veins feeling like molten iron on a mission. She reaches out for his hair, holding on tight as her climax rips through her. She’d never been so loud in her life, letting go, feeling it all so intensely, she didn’t even care to try and be embarrassed, not when she looked down between her legs to see that beautiful smirk on his face, the shadows clearing out once again.

“Holy fuck?” She says between gasps for air, feeling as though she just ran up all 10,000 steps to this house. 

He just laughs, deep and lustful, “I didn’t know that word was in your vocabulary.” 

“It’s reserved for moments like this,” she teases right back. “When I’ve been thoroughly fucked by the best lover in the world.” 

“Don’t let your sisters hear that, I can’t imagine the fight that would break out trying to compare us all,” he teases, returning to his knees. His cock hard as a rock in his pants, he starts to push the fabric down, freeing the monster. 

“Please, don’t mention my sisters when you’re that hard,” she groans. “Gods… I’m going to be impaled on that thing.” 

He laughs again, maneuvering out of his pants, they end up on the floor with everything else. He gets as close to her as possible, grips his cock and rests it over her, allowing her to see just how deep he would be able to get. A shiver runs down her spine, “You really do have the biggest wingspan…” 

“Hey, don’t talk about my brothers when my cock is on you,” he says through a smile, clearly just saying it to even the score. 

She just shakes her head, laying back, still worn out from that first orgasm, “Mother almighty, please make it fit.” 

“It’ll fit, especially now that you’re nice and relaxed. That’s the key part, you stretch better if you’re relaxed,” he explains, pulling back. “It might be easier if you’re on top, too.” 

“and that doesn’t hurt your wings at all, laying on your back?” She worries, sitting up as well. 

He shakes his head, “No, they’ll be fine.” 

“Okay,” she smiles, reaching up to take his face in her hands, she pulls him in for another kiss. Missing the way his lips feel against her own, tasting herself, she knows it from her own curiosity, she hums into his mouth. 

Her hands slide down his chest, over the trail of hair leading to his cock. She grips it at the base, letting him bite her lip in surprise before she starts to stroke him. She pulls away enough to look into his eyes, “what’s more sensitive?” She runs her thumb over the head, gathering the precum that’s been leaking since she had her legs wrapped around him. “This or your wings?” 

“I don’t know,” he breathes out, deep and dark, his eyes going basically all black, blown out with lust for her. “The only being who’s ever touched my wings is the healer…” 

“Well then, I have some experiments to do later,” she assures, letting go of his cock before taking him too far. “Lay back for me?” 

He nods, listening to his lady. 

Resting his head against the pillows, his cock laying back against his stomach… those big majestic wings spread and the tips hanging over the edges of her bed. She marvels over him. Taking in the sight, she sighs,  “You’re more beautiful than I ever dreamed.” 

He blushes slightly, “I’m glad you think so.” 

“By the time I’m done with you,” she says, hiking a leg over him, resting her heat over his cock. “You’re going to believe me when I say you’re beautiful. Handsome,” she leans over him, cupping his face before pushing his hair back, “everything I’ve ever wanted and needed wrapped up in one. You are going to feel so loved.” 

“I believe you,” he whispers back, unable to find his full voice in his surprise. 

She hovers slightly, gripping his cock once more, “ready?” 

He nods, “are you?” 

She just smirks as she angles him towards her entrance and begins to sit down. The stretch is glorious, she takes him inch by inch, forgetting how to breathe the deeper he goes, she rests both her hands on his abs and stares at him, mouth agape. She lets out an exasperated breath, “holy gods…” 

“Take as much time as you need to adjust,” he assures her it's okay, biting his lip. She can tell he wants to thrust, he wants to take advantage of the tight, wet heat wrapped around him currently. 

She waits half a minute, the longest half-minute of his life, and then starts to pull back. His hands find her hips, helping her as she pulls off his cock an inch, barely, and grinds back down. Finding her own rhythm, he simply guides her hips alongside her own movements, “That’s it, sweet fuck, you feel so good.” 

“You’re one to talk,” she grips her breast again, head tipping back as she rides him, “this is glorious… but I need more.” 

“Tell me,” he growls. “Tell me what you need and I’ll be it for you. Forever.” 

“I need–” she stops to bite back a slight moan, still riding him to the best of her ability. “I want you to fuck me, I can’t— I want to lay back and let you have your way with me.” 

“Okay,” he agrees, sitting up slowly, he wraps his arms around her and maneuvers himself onto his knees without ever pulling out of her. Her arms were quick to wrap around his shoulders, holding on tight as he moved them. He rests her back, her head at the foot of the bed, still wrapped around her, he looks into her eyes, “How hard?” 

Her hands trail down his shoulders, admiring his tattoos. She looks down at his chest, down to where they’re connected, and then back up to his eyes, “slow at first… I want to savour this. Making love to the man of my dreams for the first time. Our first time.” 

He pulls out ever so slowly, more than she was able to on top of him. She feels him leave, the emptiness left in his wake… and then he pushes back in. Starts to explode behind her closed eyes, her head once again thrown back. She grips his arms tighter as he does it again and again, hitting a spot inside of her that she never knew existed. He’s so deep, filling her perfectly, she can’t believe any of this is real. 

“Az,” she gasps his name as he picks up the pace, leaning in, he tucks his head into the crook of her neck and covers her in kisses, sucking gently, afraid to leave any marks, even though she heals fast and has 3 days of uninterrupted peace lined up. 

She doesn’t hold anything back, moaning as loud as she wants, running her nails over his shoulders and back hard enough to draw blood. It feels too good to care, she’ll put some cream on him later… but for right now, she lives in this euphoria and doesn’t give a fuck about anything else. It’s just her and Az and two impending orgasms that might bring the mountain down. 

There’s a hammering in her chest, a pang that contracts and expands with each thrust. It doesn’t feel like her heart, it’s not her lungs, either. Sure, she’s breathing heavily the faster he goes, but this is entirely different. This is… this is 10 million times more intense than when he tumbled from the cauldron and looked at Lucien the first time. This is a bond that she knew was there, buried deep inside of her, waiting to be awoken when the time was right. 

She’s so close, she’s right there, but she needs more. She wants to reach between them and rub herself but she also wants to keep holding him this close, “Az, can— holy fuck, can you,” she starts to ask him for help, too overthrown by passion. “Shadows, down there,” she simplifies it. 

He nods against her. “Yeah,” he breathes, hot and heavy under her ear. 

She doesn’t see them, but there’s a presence between them, the same twisting, tingling feeling dances around her clit as it had her nipples. Ghosting over her, adding just enough pressure to push her to where she wants to be, she pulls his face out of her neck and slams her lips against his. Breathing him in, becoming one. 

While her bond with Lucien was described as a metal wire, cold and formed against her will… the feeling of this new bond coming into existence is so much brighter. Lighter, full of life, love and happiness. It drapes over them like ivy and wisteria taking over a house, blooming eternal purple, white and pink blossoms all around them. Growing wilder as the years go on. She was covered in him, he was covered in her. This was how it was always meant to be. 

He pulls back just enough to rest their foreheads together, breathing against one another now, he holds her tighter, “Mine.” 

“Yours,” she agrees. Letting another few thrusts pass before she adds, “And you’re mine.” 

“Yours,” he whispers. “Forever.”

“Forever,” she repeats as the feeling returns. 

Heat builds and builds, swirling in her gut, mimicking the shadows she’s engulfed in. Wrapping her arms around him tighter, she brushes over his wing, making him whine. She does it again, pushing him to the edge alongside her. He’ll catch them both when they fall. Her stomach drops, her eyes squeeze shut, her body goes limp as pleasure pulses through her with a high-pitched, repeated moan as she rides it out. 

And he’s gone then too, filling her up, she feels his cock twitch with each rope of release, only elongating her own orgasm. It’s everything she’s ever wanted, him, all of him, inside of her, making her his for life, and hopefully in whatever comes after. 

He slumps against her, she can take his weight just fine, it actually feels wonderful. Crushed by his safety, his big delicious body pressed to her own. Wrapped around each other so tight they’re like a ribbon tied in a knot. Breathing heavily as they come down, that pang in her chest still strumming away. 

He kisses her cheek, over to her ear, along her jaw and down her neck, she wonders if he’s feeling it too. “Az?” Hesitation in her voice. 

“I know,” he whispers. “It happened for me too.” 

She holds him even tighter somehow, tears slipping past her eyes as she lets out a sob. Happier than she could ever imagine being. He struggles to push out of her grip, holding himself up to look at her with genuine fear in his eyes, she just shakes her head, “I’m fine, I’m… I’m so happy.” 

Tears blur his own vision, she watches one of them slip out, roll down his cheek and land on her chin. She just cups his face, brushing off the wetness. “You’re everything to me, everything and then some. You’re my favourite friend, my lover, my confidant. My test dummy, my best reviewer, supplier of my seeds—

“In more ways than one now,” he jokes, having to make it funny before he really sobbed. 

She laughs too, “You make the world so much brighter for me.” 

“Really?” 

She nods, “you are the sunshine to my flower, you make me flourish and grow and love being alive… your light is so bright, of course, you have a shadow.” 

By the look on his face, he never ever thought of it like that. “Thank you,” he lowers his head, brushing their noses together, “I love you.” 

“I love you.” 

The kiss they share is… everything. Full of love and respect and wanting. Lust and need and friendship and yearning. Every emotion at once, so strong, it knocks the wind out of both of them, causing them to pull away enough to breathe, mouth to mouth. Sharing their souls, trading them back and forth, learning them more intimately than ever before. 

“Mine,” he whispers again. 

“Mine,” she reminds him, owning him just as much as he owns her. 

A second wave washes over them, another round of need. He’s not as gentle this time and she’s perfectly okay with it. Flipping onto her stomach, he absolutely rails her, fingers digging into her hips while she screams into the mattress. 

He’s definitely going to need that week off. 

—

When things settle a bit, when there’s nothing left to come out of him and she’s barely able to stop her legs from shaking, the house drops two of their favourite danishes on the bed. Allowing them to make it real, to accept the bond before anyone in their lives can make an opinion of it. 

He takes one, she takes the other, and like a couple on their wedding day, they bring it to each other's lips, arms crossed, and they feed one another. The beating in her chest steadies out, becoming one with her heartbeat as she swallows the pastry down. Her heart and his beat the same, sharing a rhythm, bonded to each other, forever. 

She just smiles at him, “It’s real now.” 

“It always has been,” he assures. “I knew from the moment I met you that this was going to be the outcome, and I would’ve waited 500 more years for it to happen.” 

“Well, now we get those 500 years to be happily in love,” she adds, face dropping a bit, “Forever will never be long enough.” 

“No it won’t,” he agrees, putting the pastry down and cupping her face again. “Let's make it count.” 

She nods, “you know… I still want a big wedding.” 

He laughs, “I do too. I want everyone and their mother to know you chose me.” 

“And I would choose you again, over and over, in every universe. Always.” 

He steals another kiss, having to do something to stop himself from crying. It’s a dream come true for both of them. 

“Of course, the seer’s dream would come true,” he whispers against her. “I’m just blessed to have been the dream.” 

“Hopefully we can make them all come true,” she teases, smirk on her face. “I’ve had some… rather colourful dreams about you.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhm, we’ll have to explore them all this week.” 

“I’ll fly down and tell him I’m not available this week, the second the sun comes up,” he assures. 

“Take me with you, I want to see the look on his face when he realizes what happened,” cheeky as ever. “Maybe we should all take a week off, see who comes back the most relaxed.” 

He laughs again, “well one couple has a kid, the other is with the Illyrians, I think we’ll win.” 

“And thank the mother for that,” she leans in for another kiss, unsure how she could even sustain another round but her lust for him overpowers logic. 

This was going to be a long week. 

A/N: the house picked the name Anvita: who bridges the gap, who connects home and heart. 

[randomgurl2326]

Next To My Wife

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: The one time Azriel let his two worlds collide…ALSO…Based off of this quote from EPIC The Musical: After everything you’ve done, how will you sleep at night/Next to my wife

Warnings: Blood, Torture

The dungeon is cold. Second only to the Winter Court. The sounds of a male’s cries and screams are music to the spymaster’s ears.

The cobalt siphons on the Illyrian warrior’s leathers shine bright down here. Like they knew what he’s doing and that he takes pleasure in it.

The male doesn’t let the guilt creep in. Not yet. Guilt is for the conscience. Conscience is for home. He can’t afford conscience at work. That’s a luxury only innocence can have…. His sweet girl, innocent—

No, he can’t think of her now. Never let the two worlds touch, is what he tells himself. Keep the innocent innocent. Keep the bloody bloody.

Never let them touch.

Azriel’s shadows envelop the faerie. The whisps talk animatedly as they watch their master work. Suggestions ring through his ears from the tiny shadows.

The whip, master, the whip.

No! No! Truth Teller, Master. Surely that will get the job done.

The shadowsinger grits his teeth and lets out a grainy, “Quiet.”

The shadows whispers lessen to a dull roar. Azriel’s shoulder’s tense as he speaks, “Tell me what you know about Beron Vanserra’s dealings with Hybern.”

The faerie hesitates for only a second before hardening his gaze and answering, “Fuck. You.”

The spymaster breaks two of the male’s fingers as a result of his defiance. Azriel tightens his grip on the faerie, “Wrong answer. Tell me before I rip out your fucking veins one by one.”

The faerie male cries out in pain. Finally submitting to the spymaster, “Alright! Alright! I’ll tell you!” The next one quieter, “I’ll tell you.”

Azriel presses down on the other male’s jugular, “I’m listening.”

“T-the High Lord wanted a deal,” the Illyrian senses the quiver in the faerie’s voice, “A-a protection deal o-or something, I don’t fuckin’ know.”

The dark whisps of shadows stir again, sensing a lull.

He’s lying, master.

He knows but doesn’t want to tell master.

If pretty girl were here she’d be able to—

Azriel squeezes his eyes shut at the mention of his girl. Don’t let the two worlds touch, he says to himself, leave the conscience at home. The spymaster’s eyes open once again, reminding him of where he is. What he’s doing.

Scarred hands press down harder on the male’s protruding neck, “Enough of the bullshit. Tell me what you know.”

The faerie winces, “S-security! Security… he wanted to trade Night Court secrets in exchange for security with Hybern. Beron wanted stability. He senses a war. I-I don’t know what secrets he was gonna share. I just know that they were heavy.”

The Illyrian’s shadows exert approval of the truth. Azriel grunts and twists the male’s arm backwards, pushing his leather boot clad foot down on his back and forcing his head down.

The shadowsinger smirks and leans down to the faerie’s ear, with a dark voice he says, “Thank you… But you’re no longer needed.”

He unsheathes Truth Teller and stabs it in the male’s shoulder blade. He waits a beat before slowly pulling it out. The agonizing cries of the faerie bounce through the otherwise quiet halls of the dungeon. His whimpers bring a twisted delight to the spymaster.

Once the dagger is fully removed, Azriel stands and gives one last stomp on the faerie’s foot for good measure.

“Someone will be here in the morning to either clean your remains or your wounds. Make sure not to bleed too much. I do like this dungeon.”

Azriel walks off and cleans Truth Teller with a rag nearby. Just as the Illyrian is about to exit, he hears the faerie’s pain-stricken voice, “After everything you’ve done, how will you sleep at night?”

Azriel stops at the exit and smirks. He doesn’t dignify the faerie with a glance as he says in his gruff baritone, “Next to my wife.”

[velarisdusk]

Slip into something daring and explore the courts this October. Don't be shy—knock on the doors of your favorite characters. Will you uncover a dark, twisted secret, or indulge in a sinful treat?

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author's note: this is my first ever kinktober!!! ideally, i'll be posting every day from october 1st through 31st, but i'm in school full-time so we'll see lol. these will vary in length, but will all be relatively short this is all 18+ (duh) so please mdni! taglist is closed! enjoy!

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solo days (not reader insert; only 2 lol) will be denoted with a ☾

01 Sweet Surrender — Praise | Cassian

02 In the Wake of Absence — Caught Masturbating | Lucien

03 Before the Dawn — Edging | Tamlin

04 Unveiled Pleasures — Virginity | Rhysand

05 Whispered Echoes — Begging | Nesta

06 Shadows of Need — Mommy Kink | Azriel

07 Dreams of You — Wet Dream | Cassian ☾

08 Floral Reverie — Thigh Riding | Tamlin

09 Night's Cold Embrace — Dacryphilia | Rhysand

10 Twisted Silk — Bondage | Azriel

11 Fallen Grace — Degradation | Eris

12 In the Firelight — Size Difference | Cassian

13 Gentle Remedies — Medical Play | Elain

14 The Crown's Command — Boot Worship | Eris

15 Indelicate Distraction — Distracted Sex | Azriel

16 Searing Retribution — Impact Play | Cassian

17 Bound by Flame — Cum Plug | Eris

18 In the Stillness of Want — Orgasm Control | Rhysand

19 Held in Silence — Cockwarming | Cassian

20 Made for Him — Dollification | Azriel

21 Strings of Devotion — Pet Play | Eris

22 When the Stars Bear Witness — Cuckolding | Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel

23 The Weight of Expectation — 24/7 Scene | Cassian

24 Breathe in the Quiet — Predator / Prey | Azriel

25 In the Glow of Serenity — Somnophilia | Lucien

26 Murmurs of the Abyss — Mind Control | Rhysand

27 Garden of Eden — Tentacles | Tamlin ☾

28 Breathe Out Your Sorrows — Captivity | Azriel

29 Echoes of the Unruly — Monsterfucking | Tamlin

30 Lament of Control — Dehumanization | Rhysand

31 Subjugation — Fuck or Die | Lucien, Rhysand

[solbaby7]

If ur still taking requests can i ask for azriel x reader. Where reader and Az are newish friends. One day Elain asks reader for help on how to please a man (I imagine elain always on her back 🤷‍♀️). Reader asks elain if its to show Az and elain just blushes sweetly saying "maybe". Reader being a girls girl shows elain how to be ontop and how to do other favors like if they were besties. ( idk if uve seen game of thrones but a girl shows khalessi how to ride khal drogo. The girl straight up straddles her with clothes on of course, And shows her. I have it in my head that while reader straddles elain Az walks in and is like 😮😮). Readers a bit jealous cuz she has a mini crush on azriel but doesnt show it. She sees elain with some hickies and what not and she decides she cant be around Az anymore (hurts too much blah idk lol). Az is like wtf! Turns out that Elain was asking for sexy help for lucien!!! Doesnt have to be detailed smutty at all, whatever ur comfortable with is cool with me. Oh btw i so so loved that possessive toxic azriel fic u posted the other day. 🫠🫠🫠 🥵🥵🥵

I love love love love love this idea! So happy you requested it🤍💗

—

Teach Me

azriel x reader

[ part 2 ]

“Well—can you help me with that?” A furious blush fans across Elain’s cheeks, eyes wide and hands fumbling at her sides. Dainty fingers dig into the intricate lace detailing of her dress, nails raking over the pattern in attempts to calm the racing of her heart.

“You want to know how to please a male,” You repeat gently, slightly shocked after she’d timidly slipped into your bedroom with flushed cheeks and sweaty palms. It took Elain ten whole minutes to reign in her rambling until she’d finally blurted it out. “Anyone in particular?” She doesn’t meet your eye, shifting her weight from foot to foot and your stomach rolls at the turn your mind takes. Elain had been spending a lot of time around Azriel; afternoons spent tending to the garden and evenings were blocked off to trail behind as she baked some new sweet treat. “Az, maybe?”

“Maybe,” Elain mutters softly, subtly taking in the contents of your room. The pictures propped against your side table and the endless jars and creams stacked neatly on your vanity. “Can you please teach me?”

Pushing side your curiosity, you offer an encouraging smile, patting at the spot beside you on the bed. “Come here.” The first step is hesitant and so is the one that follows but Elain still finds herself following the gentle command and complying even further when you urge her to lie back. You can feel her thighs shake when you swing a leg over to straddle them but the trembling subsides when you adjust her hair and straighten out her dress. “Sex is like a dance.”

Immediately, she’s hooked, hanging onto every word as if you were the Mother herself coming down for a personal visit. Briefly, Elain’s gaze flicks to the door, shoulders relaxing when noting its shut and locked; curtains drawn and the fireplace crackled with life. The smell of you is everywhere. Something light yet memorable, soft and elegant, classic and slightly sweet—soothing in every way. “A dance?”

“It starts off slow,” You begin, a sliver of your abdomen exposed in your Night Court attire. A breathable onyx top that seemed to wrap around your chest like a bandage, blending into a lighter material that was slightly see-through. “Lingering glances from across the room, the heat of feeling his eyes watching you long after you’ve looked away.” Her confusion is palpable in her furrowed brows and slight pout. “Love always begins in the eyes—I’ve heard of women who’ve finished males with nothing more than their gaze alone.”

“Finished?” Your brow raises, a teasing smirk accompanying it and the implication alone has Elain’s cheeks rosy once more. “Oh, gods. I don’t think I’m capable of anything like that.”

Your fingers trace along the length of her bare arms, holding her hands and guiding them to the sides of her head as you hover, voice low. “You are a woman. You’re capable of anything.”

Elain swallows thickly, taking in the words as if it were the first time she truly wanted to believe them. “What if he doesn’t like it? Like me or the fact that I’m not very experienced.”

“They don’t care about if you have experience or not. They simply desire what they’ve never had.” She hangs onto every word, analyzing the way you guide her through the motions of what she’d do. Talking her through the scenarios on how she’d touch; when to kiss and gently tug at hair. Eventually the blushing becomes less frequent, Elain’s eyes fluttering closed as she visualized it, working through the new feelings that brewed at the thought of being able to use such teachings.

“And they like that? Us on top?”

“If you like it then they’ll love it.” You rest her hands at your waist, demonstrating the sensual rocking of hips going back and forth. “Fae males are not like the human men you were accustomed to—all sweet and gentle. Fae’s fuck. They take control,” You’re still above her, watching as her thoughts race a mile a minute, thick lashes fluttering before she moves in a flurry. Quickly the position is changed and while it’s a little sloppy, Elain was obviously paying attention as she hooks her leg over your thighs the same way you had hers. “Good job—exactly like that.”

She lets out a laugh, seemingly surprised in her own actions but the thrill of it all is evident across ethereal features. “My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest.”

“Breathe through it and always remember that no matter how highly you think of him in your mind, no matter how highly others think of him—in that room, he belongs to you. There for you to do as you please and if you’re ever uncomfortable you can always say no. You can always stop no matter how far you’ve gotten.”

Elain nods in understanding, dainty fingers barely gripping at your wrists. “Thank you for this. I don’t know what I’d do if—just, thank you.”

She lingers a tad longer, following every instruction you give and just as you’re about to correct her, your door creaks open. A familiar voice calls out your name, shadows slinking across the wallpaper but they freeze once they take you in—sprawled out against the bed with Elain straddling you, hands pinned by your head.

“We were just—“ Elain scrambles off of you, cheek and chest a furious red as her mouth opens and closes; unable to come up with a reasonable explanation before she’s sliding past Azriel and rushing down the hallway.

“Most people knock.”

But Az wasn’t most people. You’d been friends for years and long since had he forgone the formality of knocking before entering. He hasn’t moved an inch, still donning his fighting leathers and surely he must’ve just rushed in from flying because his hair was a fucking mess. Inky strands lay messily atop his head, flopping over his forehead and teasing the thick of his brows. “What was that?” A finger points in the direction Elain had just disappeared off too and you’re unable to explain why such anger swells in your gut—all too aware of the fact that another female would be using your moves on him.

Seducing him in a manor that belonged to you but would never actually be you.

“Just wait a little, I’m sure it’ll make sense soon.” Confusion sweeps over the angles of his face at the vagueness of your words, skewing the corners of his mouth and you have to physically tear your eyes away before you did something stupid. Like, kiss him. You suck in a sharp breath, a hand curling around the doorknob. “You should get to bed, Az. It’s late.”

You can’t bear to see the look on his face when you close the door on him but it was for the best. It was one thing crushing on him while knowing he wanted another. But it was more complicated now, teaching the object of all his desires exactly what to do to him—how to please him and draw out the sounds you’d been dreaming about for decades.

You flop down on your bed, nose scrunching at the lingering smell of Elain on your pillows.

Sleep doesn’t grace you with her presence that night, instead offering a series of scenarios of what could be happening a few hallways down.

Elain’s back two days later, a goofy grin spread across her cheeks and a line of hickeys branding the side of her neck in a way that makes your stomach turn. It takes everything in you to hide the jealously, to smooth over the embarrassment of ever possibly thinking that Azriel would go for you when he had a blushing Archeron hanging off his arm. “I take it that it went well.”

“More than well,” Elain confessed, dressed in a pale shade of green with ivy’s laced into the thin sleeves. “It was perfect—everything was perfect thanks to you.” She continues on, divulging naughty details and devastating descriptions of Azriel’s fingers grazing at bare skin, the tickle of his hair against her cheek, the warmth radiating from his body when the nights chill became too much. “I’d always heard whispers about the males of Autumn but you guys really weren’t joking,” Your head tilts to the side at that certain detail, brow quirking and your spoon halts its swirling about the teacup. “Fire really does run through their veins.”

“Autumn males?” Your hair flicks behind your shoulder with the wild way you turn to face her, arms crossed loosely over your chest. “You were with Lucien last night?”

Elain nods with a knowing smile growing at the corner of full lips, the tulle of her dress shifting obnoxiously when she takes a seat on your bed.

“I guess I just assumed you’d be with Azriel.”

“Not quite my type,” She replies wistfully, gaze far away as if she were reminiscing on the night before and the male involved. “He’s yours though,” It’s not a question but a statement, thrown out there as if it were a known fact amongst others and you were the last to be let in. “—you like him.”

The teacup pressed to your lips muffles the words but Elain still understands perfectly clear. “”He’s my friend.”

“Friends don’t really look at friends the way he looks at you.” You swallow audibly, attempting to hide your interest and yet it’s the quick flick of your eyes that gives you away. “It’s exactly as you said the other night,” Elain raises from the bed, a gentle hand trailing up your arm the same way you’d done to her. “Love always begins in the eyes. Just look at him—really look at him and see what’s right in front of you.”

Your hands tremble in your lap and for the first time in a very long while, it was you that felt like the blushing virgin searching for answers and not knowing where to look. “I don’t think I’m capable of handling what I might find.”

“You are a woman,” Elain softly answers. “You’re capable of anything.”

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Prophecy (Lucien Vanserra x Rhys! Sister)/(Azriel x Rhys! Sister)?

Part 2,

Part 3 (Lucien's Version)

Part 3 ( Azriel's Version)

AN: I’ve had this idea for a while but after hearing “The Prophecy” on The Tortured Poets Department I was finally feeling inspired to write it. You guys have no idea how much that album is about to influence my writing. Also I have no idea how this is gonna end lol.

Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesn’t have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. It’s not wrong if both of your mates don’t want you right? 

Warnings: smut, unrequited love, situationship, fluff, Lucien is literally and angel I love him sm, did not edit (I am tired)

Word count: 3734

“Please, I've been on my knees. Change the prophecy. Don't want money just someone who wants my company…”

I had known the youngest Vanserra for a while now. I can recall the first time I met him on a lovely day  in the spring court when I was visiting with my brother. The man was more than charming, his words nearly had me buckling at the knees. It was around the same time that I had found out that my brother's close friend Azriel was my mate.

I remember the bond snapping like it was yesterday. We were celebrating solstice in the Hewn City and my feet were nearly black and blue from the amount of drunk men stepping on them while dancing. I was about to ask my brother to take me home when Azriel stepped in and quite literally swept me off my feet. He let me stand on his toes and waltz around the room with him all night to ensure that he himself wouldn’t hurt my feet. At some point in the night the bond snapped and I had never been so happy. 

Azriel and I had been friends for over 100 years and I had secretly harbored feelings for him for at least 75 of them. To have my brother's best friend as my mate felt like fate. I didn’t tell him that night, something I have regretted for the last 400 years. 

Not long after that he rescued Mor and any sparks I thought he felt with me that night were long gone. From that day on all he did was pine for her. I couldn’t blame him, Mor was astonishingly beautiful. For a long time after he saved her I resented her, I felt like she had taken my mate from me. It wasn’t until I realized that she wanted nothing to do with the shadowsinger that my hatred for my cousin dissipated. It wasn’t her fault that Azriel was so smitten with her. It was my fault for not telling him, but now it had been so long since the bond snapped that it seemed weird to bring it up.  

So I sat dutifully by his side whenever  he needed someone to rant to about Mor. It practically ripped out my heart to  hear him talk about how in love with her he was. I was the only person he would open up to like that.  He would spend hours asking me for advice on how to woo her, and I grinned and bore it because, at the end of the day, I got to spend time with him.

I had been playing the girl best friend for hundreds of years. The moment I started to feel like he might be losing feelings for Mor in walked Elain. The beautiful sister of my brother's mate. What's worse? She seemed interested in Azriel as well. 

Elain was easy to hate. Not just for her flirtations with Azriel but for the way she treated Lucien, her mate. Lucien had so much love for the Archeron, and she waved him off without another thought. I might be able to understand her reluctance to accept the bond if Lucien was a brute of a male, but he wasn’t. He was soft, kind and easy on the eyes.

I found him tossing rocks into the Sidra one day, no doubt pining over how Elain had barley even acknowledged the flowers he picked for her. That’s when I told him about Azriel and I’s bond. From that moment on we spent a great deal of time together, ranting about our unaccepted mating bonds. Even though we spent most of the time bitching, there was happiness. More than I had felt in a while. 

Then starfall came…and everything changed. 

“You look far too stunning not to be walking in with a date,” Lucien drawled to me from the outside of the townhouse. 

I had spent all day getting ready for the annual party tonight. My dress was chosen specifically to catch Azriel’s attention, not that I felt like I would succeed. 

“Well finding a date is harder than you think, especially at this hour,” I laugh as I walk through the gate he opened for me. 

“Then indulge me,” he said. I turned to find him offering me an arm. 

“You want to be my date?” I laugh light heartedly, admittedly smitten by the autumn court male. 

“It’s a little last minute but I would be honored to walk into that room with you on my arm,” he said fondly. 

I smiled and shook my head at the male before looping my  arm in his and allowing him to lead me up the steps to the front door. 

“You know, you clean up pretty well Lu,” I cock an eyebrow bumping into him. 

“Thanks, your brother sets a pretty high standard as far as attire for this thing. Who knew he was such a fashionista?” Lucien grins before walking in the door arm and arm with me. I don’t even bother stifling the laugh I let out. 

The room nearly fell silent at our entrance. Sure Lucien and I were close and everyone knew, but they had never seen us like this. Even Az and Elain stopped their oh so intriguing conversation to ogle. I swore I saw anger flit across Elain’s eyes, like she was dead set on owning both Az and Lucien. 

Lucien and I spent the evening as wallflowers, doing our best to stay away from all the happy couples. We had even gotten to the point where we grabbed a bottle of wine off the table and brought it over to our couch, both of us tired of constantly getting up and down for refills. 

It wasn’t until Az and Elain not so subtly got up and walked onto the balcony that we decided we had tortured ourselves enough. We promptly grabbed the bottle of wine and waltzed out of the townhouse not even bothering to say goodbye. I supposed it was that exact bottle that did us in. 

I placed my hand on my apartment door, swaying slightly from the alcohol rushing to my head. Lucein’s hand found my hip, steadying me. While I assured him I would be fine to walk home alone, he insisted he came with me. 

“Thanks,” I laughed unlocking the door. 

“You’re welcome,” he chuckles, wobbling himself. 

“I had a really good time with you tonight,” I say, placing a hand on his chest to steady myself.

“I had a good time too,” he smiled. 

It wasn’t until that moment that I realized how close we were. Lucien looked down at me, the moonlight illuminating his face perfectly. The sudden tension between us was broken when he crashed his lips on mine. 

One thing led to another and the next thing I knew I was lying bare beneath him as he fucked me like his life depended on it. I didn’t realize how badly I needed to get laid until he was buried inside me. Needless to say I understood why people said the Autumn Court males have fire in their blood. 

That was a year ago and since then Lucien and I had decided to continue seeing each other in secret, both of us needing a way to release built up tension so to say. He often stayed the night and we would spend long hours talking about everything from the books we were reading to politics. The sex was amazing, for both of us, but it was the intimacy that came after that I think we both craved the most. An intimacy I would be seeking out shortly given the current topic of conversation between Azriel and I. 

“Gods the other day she was weaning a light blue dress in the garden and I nearly fell to my knees before her,” Azriel ranted to me. 

He had been going on and on about whether or not he wanted to finally make a move on Elain or not. And as his best friend I had to hear about every word of it.

“I saw it, it was a very pretty dress,” I acknowledge, turning the page of the book I was reading. 

“I swear she blushed when I complimented it too, I think I’m making progress with her,” he went on to say. 

“Maybe you should just put yourself out of your misery and talk to her Az,” I suggested for probably the tenth time. 

“You know I can’t just barrel in there. She’s scared and I’m not going to freak her out even more. She will come to me when she’s ready. If she’s ready. Gods that’s assuming she even likes me,” he rambled. 

I roll my eyes and shut my book so loudly it pulls the shadow singers attention. I give him a pointed look that has him startling back just a bit. 

“I know that she likes you Az,” I deadpan. 

“How can you be sure though?” he asks, throwing his head back on the arm of the couch. 

“Because she would be an idiot not to,” I say with a hint of sadness. 

Azriel looked to be at a loss for words, and I realized my words were much bolder than I had wanted them to be. 

Clearing my throat I set my book down on the side table, knowing it will be waiting for me when I come back to my brother’s tomorrow. I stand and subtly adjust my dress.  

“I have to go, but seriously Az, just tell her,” I say walking over to press a kiss to his forehead. 

As I got to walk away I feel him grab my hand, placing a kiss to my open palm, “Thank you for listening y/n, really.” he says earnestly . 

“Don’t worry  about it Az, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say with a fake smile before setting off towards my modest home. 

When Feyre moved into the townhouse I took it as my queue to move out, knowing my brother and his new mate would want privacy. Of course Rhysand offered me mansions and villas but I was content with a townhouse of my own in the middle of town. Big enough to have my own home library, and small enough to not feel so lonely. 

I make my way down the cobblestone streets, the faelights casting a warm glow on the ground before me. It was late, and many couples were turning in for the night. I could see some cuddled up on their sofa’s through their windows, others were having a nightcap together outside Rita’s. I saw a couple rocking their newborn baby to sleep on the second floor of their home, and for some reason, that was the one that hurt the most to me.

I sighed as I walked up a few steps to my townhouse door. I unlocked the door and was greeted to the smell of jasmine and vanilla and the sound of a cracking fire. I walk up my steps to find Lucien sitting shirtless on my large bed, his hair in a bun at the nape of his neck. The male was the image of relaxation. 

I had given him a key months ago. With the males many jobs, emissary to the night court, ally to Jurian and Vassa,  and liaison to Tamlin, he needed a place to truly call home. For the past 9 months that had been here, with me. I never once objected to his subtle moving in, it was nice to come home to someone waiting for me, sometimes even a homemade meal. For him it was nice to have a  place where he didn’t always have to put on a front. It was a win for both of us. 

“When did you get in?” I ask kicking off my shoes. 

“Just a couple hours ago. How was Azriel duty?” he asked, setting his book down as I began to strip off my cloak and dress leaving me only in my lingerie. It wasn’t uncommon for us to be so casual with one another. 

“Exhausting, did you know that Elain wore a pretty blue dress the other day?” I mocked tossing my clothes into a dirty clothes bin, I noticed his missing shirt was there too.

“Unfortunately yes I did,” he chuckled. “You know what always makes me feel better though?” he smirks. 

“I crawl up the bed towards him, “What?” I smile knowing what the answer will be. 

“You,” he smirks, grabbing my hips and pinning me to the mattress beneath him, his lips pressing to mine. 

“How funny I was about to say the same thing,” I laugh, feeling his lips tickle my neck as he makes his way further down my body. 

His mouth trails the inside of my thighs before sliding my panties down my legs, each brush of his fingers from my hips to my ankles feeling like heaven. The male had been gone for a week, and I was desperate for release. He licks a long stripe up my center, flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves at the top. My back arches off the bed and his hands find my waist to pin me down. I feel his tongue begin to lap at my clit as his fingers slide into me, no doubt finding the pool of wetness waiting there. 

This is what me and Lu had always been good at, reading each other. When he had a stressful day  I always made sure to make him feel good, and when I came back to the house upset he never hesitated to get on his knees for me. There was this unsaid rule that we would always take care of eachother. 

Lucien’s tongue continues lapping my clit as his fingers curl to hit that spot inside of me that had me gasping for air. As I started to feel myself getting closer and closer he removed his mouth from me, drawing his fingers out slowly. One thing about hooking up for a year? You learn to read each other's bodies, and lord did the seventh son of Autumn know how to read mine. 

“Lu!” I cry out frustrated. 

“Shhh my darling,” he coos crawling up my body. “I simply want to cum with you tonight.” he smirked, seething himself inside of me. 

“Oh gods!” I cry feeling him fill me thoroughly. 

He pulls out and thrusts back in causing me to whimper once more. Mor was right about one thing, the autumn court males have fire in their blood and they fuck like it too. 

“I missed you, missed this,” Lucien groans, his face contorted in pleasure as he builds a steady pace. 

“I missed you too Lu,” I say through ragged breaths as he fucks into me like his life depends on it. Apparently the time apart made him needy as well. 

I could hardly speak as he thrust deeper into me, his hands on my waist holding me steady so tha he could hit me as deep as possible. When I felt myself start to clench around him he doubled over, burying his head in my neck as his hips continued to snap into me.

My hands found his back clinging to the flesh there for an anchor, my walls fluttering around him one last time before I fell apart.The sudden sensation had Lucien biting my neck as he came with a low groan. 

We spent a few moments catching our breaths, he pushed up on his arms and moved a stray hair from my face, assessing to see if he had hurt me, just like he always did.  When he found no traces of pain in my face he rolled over, taking me with him so that I was lying on his chest. 

This was always the part I think we both craved the most. The sex was great, amazing even. But I longed for a pair of arms to fall asleep in, and he longed for someone to hold. Meaningless pillowtalk just for fun.

“I mean it, I did miss you,” I sigh circling my arms around his waist. 

“I missed you too, I hate sleeping in the spring court, it’s so cold and dark there now.” Lucien said, staring at the ceiling. 

“How is Tamlin?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Terrible,” he muttered. “I had to talk him into letting me stay.”  He continues playing with the ends of my hair. 

“You’re a good friend for checking in on him though,” I say matter of factly. 

“I still wish I could do more,” he sighs, pulling the covers up on the two of us.

“I understand,” I mutter keeping my head on his chest, staring at the fire that roars next to us. 

A long beat of comfortable silence passes, normally I would fall asleep like this. I would sometimes wake to him being gone, sometimes he would wake to me being gone. Only on weekends would both be able to wake up and go to breakfast together. This was one of those weekends, but instead of falling asleep, Lucien spoke up. 

“Can I ask you something?” he asked, not taking his gaze from the ceiling. 

“Sure,” I reply, waiting for a nonchalant inquiry. It wasn’t the first time he and I had played 20 questions to get to know each other more, though I thought that after a year of it we knew just about everything there was to know about the other. 

“Would you agree that Azriel and Elain are never going to give us a chance?” he asked. 

My heart twinges hearing his name, “Well Az doesn’t know, but even if he did I don’t think he would care. I’m not damsel in distress enough for him.” I snort recalling the unconscious type he has.

“I feel the same about Elain, and there’s something I’ve been thinking about, especially this past week,” he continues still facing the ceiling. 

I prop my head up on his chest wanting to read his face and his eyes flit to me, “Cryptic Vanserra, but go on,” I laugh trying to break the tension. 

“I’ve always been fond of you y/n ever since you visited the spring court all those years ago. Now that I’ve gotten to know you, that admiration has only grown, not to mention you’re a very beautiful female y/n,” he laughs at his own words, a tint of pink dusting his cheek and I can’t help but blush as well. “From the amount of time we’ve been spending together it seems you like me enough, and well…I don’t want to be alone anymore,” he says seemingly avoiding his main point. 

I sit up more, intrigued by his words, “What do you mean Lu?” I inquire. 

“I was wondering if you would like to be Mrs. Lucien Vanserra?” he finally says and my heart nearly stops at the shocking words. “I know I’m not Azriel, but consider me an alternative. I think we could make eachother genuinely happy, maybe help each other enjoy whatever we have left of this miserable life?” he asks, his voice laced with uncertainty. 

I let his words sink in as I stare at the bit of wall behind him. As I consider all that he’s said I realize that he’s right, we do get along. I had spent years trying to find a male to fill the hole Azriel put in my  life, but it always felt wrong. It was as if I was taking someone else’s mate, even when the males didn’t have mates.  It didn’t feel wrong being with Lucien because I knew that his mate also didn’t want anything to do with him. 

I was tired of not always having someone to come home to. Not having someone to go to events with. Not having someone to spend holidays with. Not having someone to call my own. I was tired of being alone, especially since I had been alone for about 400 years, but no longer. 

I smile down at Lucien’s nervous face, “I would be honored to be your wife,” I say. 

“You would?” he beams. 

“I would,” I repeated back to him. “You’re right, we do get along, and I’m tired of being alone too.” 

He presses his lips to mine, both of us smiling into the kiss. We would never fill the sadness of a rejected mating bond, but we would be there for one another. I lay my  head down on his chest again, feeling the sleep come into my eyes. 

“How should we do it?” he asked, tracing shapes on my bare back.

“Hmm,” I thought for a moment. A big wedding seemed odd considering we weren’t mates or anything close to it. Eloping seemed more proper. “I think we should keep it small.”

“Do we tell them?” He ponders the most awkward question.

“We can tell them, but we don’t need to invite them. It can be a modified elopement, they will all know but we can just invite my brother and Feyre, that way we both have family there.” I answer snuggling into his warmth more. 

“By the Cauldron I have to tell your brother I’ve been sleeping with you for over a year,” Lucien said anxiously, running a hand down his face. 

I can’t help but laugh at his stress, “He might be a little mad, but I’m sure Feyre will be so excited about it that he won’t care.” I giggle. 

I feel his body relax under my cheek, no doubt realizing that whatever the High Lady says will be law. He slides a red and gold ring off his pinky finger and slips it onto my left hand. 

“Here, it’s a family ring,” he explains looking at the gaudy ring on  my hand. While it fits on my finger well the jewel on it takes up my whole hand and looks unnatural. “I know I’m not part of the Autumn Court anymore but it’s all I have.” he continues.

“It’s perfect,” I laugh, inspecting the ill-fitting thing, “it’s an outcast just like us.”

Lucien's soft chuckle escapes him as he plants a gentle kiss atop my head. Tomorrow promises its usual dose of chaos, but that's a concern for another day. Tonight, here in bed with my fiancé, though this isn't the life I envisioned, I find myself flooded with a happiness I haven't felt in ages.

Part 2,

Part 3 (Lucien's Version)

Part 3 ( Azriel's Version)

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202

[reiincarnatiion]

shadows of destiny | azriel x reader | part three

summary: azriel jealous and yearning for Y/N

🧚‍♀️

a/n: sorry guys for the long assss wait, ive been on exchange in the uk so i have been busy living life hehe, still here and loving it!! hope you guys like this one, love you all cuties <33 also this isnt proof read so sorry for any mistakes! let me know what you think, i love all of your sweet messages !! eeeeeee

read : [part one] [part two]

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You woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache and a parched mouth, confused as to how you had made it to your bed from last night. The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a hazy glow over your room.

Groaning loudly, you cursed as you shifted your weight around, consequently turning your head to come face to face with Lucien's chiseled features, peacefully sleeping next to you. It took you a second to realize he was shirtless as well.

You screamed, "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

His mechanical eye swirled open, followed by his other. "Tell me we didn't."

"DID what," Lucien murmured, a small smirk gracing his features as he stared up at the ceiling. Amusement danced in his eyes as he stretched languidly against the sheets. His morning rasp tingled inside you and nicked at you annoyingly. This could not have happened. The headache of whatever liquids and maybe even other substances you had consumed yesterday hit you hard, and you fell back to face the ceiling as well, nausea threatening to overwhelm you.

"You little slut, you know what I meant," you groaned, rolling onto your front in a feeble attempt to quell the oncoming headache and urge to vomit.

You felt Lucien shift next to you as well, attempting to detangle himself from the crisp black sheets of your bed. "We must have done it."

"NO Lucien."

"YES."

"NO, I CAN'T-"

"…why not," Lucien breathed out. His demeanor had changed since you last saw him sober; something had happened last night, and you could not remember, but he was acting differently.

"All I am saying is that last night made me realize things about you, Y/N…" he continued, rising from the sheets. You raised your eyes in horror, ready to scream because you did not want to get flashed by fiery dick-

-a pair of orange breeches came into view.

"Oh."

"Upset that we didn't actually sleep together, Y/N?"

An unknown feeling of red-hotness spread throughout your face, turning your cheeks pink. "I hate you, Lucien," you hummed.

"What did you realize, Lucien?"

"That I pretend to not care the way Azriel and Elain make heart eyes at each other, but on the inside, it's like a knife twisting inside me," he deadpanned, and you couldn't help but let out a laugh.

"What???" he groaned, falling down next to you. "Nothing, Luc, I just feel sorry for us, that's all.

~

Azriel sat at the dining table, swirling the black coffee mindlessly. It was 2 pm, and his shadows had begun reporting how the others had finally begun stirring awake after their long night. They had gotten back at 5 am, the sun slowly beginning to peek through the trees and buildings of Velaris, and he had watched from afar as Lucien carried Y/N to her room.

He had not come out afterwards. His shadows had been in an unfamiliar frenzy, yelling to slip through and see what was happening in that bedroom, to investigate how good he gave it to her because Azriel just knew. He knew he could give it to her better.

He clenched his fists at the picture his shadows had painted for him of the events which probably had unfolded in her room. What was it with his sexual urges with Y/N all of a sudden? She was just his friend. She had always just been his friend. Maybe he had had a little crush on her before. Maybe when she would walk into a room and his palms would sweat, he would chastise himself for wearing too many layers. Or how when she used to make his heart beat irregularly, he would tell Rhys about anxiety. It was easier to let them think he had a disorder rather than admit feelings. Because maybe, just maybe he had had slight feelings towards her for centuries. But there was Elain now.

He liked Elain.

"Good Morning Azriel!" a sweet voice chirped, as Elain entered the dining room, a sweet tea held in her perfectly manicured hands. Even after a night out, she looked perfect. Her hair looked freshly blow-dried, and her lips tinted pink, looking fresh and kissable. He smiled gently, and her eyes brightened as she took a seat next to him, murmuring things about last night and how odd it was to see Lucien with Y/N.

"I just don't think he should have danced like that with her, what do you think?" she whispered, her eyes shining.

"I know it was disrespectful to you," Azriel nodded back, looking into her glassy doe eyes. Out of the corner of his eyes, he felt a sudden burst of movement from his shadows, but the warning wasn't quick enough as two figures walked into the room.

God, she looked horrible.

Elain let out a comical gasp, and the corner of his mouth lifted as Y/N walked into the room, her hair messy and disturbed, like someone had pulled on it, ran their hands through it. Her presence snatched on his gaze, it pulled it towards him, and Azriel found himself unable to look away.

Her eyes lazily dragged over Azriel, raking up his body, and never before had he felt so hot. But he did not break eye contact with her either, he maintained it, willing and daring her to break it first.

Their eyes met in a silent battle of wills, a tension simmering beneath the surface as they sized each other up. It was a fleeting moment, but it spoke volumes, leaving Azriel reeling in its wake.

"Lucien, can we talk?" Elain broke the silence.

Everyone blinked and looked at the innocent girl sitting down. Azriel watched as she looked into Lucien’s eyes, with her innocent look, and he mentally chuckled. She was doing damage control, and it was working because his shadows were reporting the increase in Lucien’s heartbeat.

“Of course,” Lucien whispered and pushed past Y/N, whisking Elain away out of the room.

Charged silence followed. Azriel went back to nursing his coffee which had gone cold now. He felt Y/N scoff and mutter something under her breath which sounded a whole lot like "bitch," as she moved around the place, into the connecting kitchen, trying to will the House to make her a cup of its strongest coffee. They didn’t say a word to each other, but Azriel could feel the tension in the air. He didn’t know where it had formed from, what abyss it had risen from, he just knew there was something that needed to be addressed between them before his head and his heart exploded.

“What was that from last night?” he let out a breath finally, his shadows jittering around the place. He looked up from his swirling black coffee to see Y/N cease her movements in the corner of the kitchen. Her short night dress, barely covering her ass, had ridden up as she had been bent over the kitchen bench. Azriel felt himself stiffen, so he looked away quickly, adjusting himself.

“What do you mean,” she replied, turning around with a neutral expression on her face, guarding her emotions. She carefully padded her way to the table, setting the coffee down and placing herself directly in front of him. Her scent wafted over him, and his jaw ticked, but he didnt show any emotion. His dark eyes bore into hers, his shadows fought to sift over her, wanting to know her thoughts, her feelings, her emotions. Alas, she showed nothing.

“You and Lucien…” he drawled out, pretending to ask nonchalantly.

“We just danced to Azriel, I was really drunk,” she whispered softly, placing her hands together on her lap.

“You emerged from the same room,” he replied calmly.

As she cocked her head to the side, her hair falling onto her face, time seemed to slow down. Her long eyelashes were stunning, and her deep eyes looked at Azriel with something so unsaid, that the raw intensity sent shivers down his spine.

Azriel knew at that moment that he could no longer leave these unanswered feelings of his left hanging. He wasn't a dumb male; if his body was responding to Y/N like this for so long, there was clearly a reason. And it was not a dumb crush.

He had forced himself to believe for so long, that Elain should belong to him. Three brothers for three sisters, that is what he would tell himself.

Yet something had shifted between them two, a subtle undercurrent that left Azriel reeling. It was something deeper, something undeniable. And as he met Y/N's gaze, he knew that he could no longer ignore the pull that drew him to her, the pull of something real, something worth fighting for.

--

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[quinzzelx]

Shadows and Starlight

Part 2

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: It's Starfall and with Starfall come some unpleasant memories. But your excitement to finally see Azriel again wins you over. Catching up with your family, you find that the evening is approaching fast. What happens when Azriel returns and you finally see each other again?

Chapter 01 // Chapter 03

Word Count: 8.8K Well, this is a lengthy one.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Trauma, Flashbacks of Torture, Mentions of SA, A lot of Family bonding, Angst, Teeth rotting Fluff, and Sexual content. I have not proofread this yet, since I wanted to get this up as quickly as possible. A/N: Oh my god, GUYS!!! I am overwhelmed by the positivity and love you showered the first chapter with! You have honestly no idea how happy this makes me. I'm so glad people seem to enjoy it and I truly hope that this part will do the first one justice. Feel free to comment and share your thoughts. Feedback is always appreciated! Also, come chat with me in my inbox!

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As you wake up on Starfall morning, a sense of weariness washes over you, the remnants of a night spent tossing and turning, haunted by dreams of the past and the phantom pains that still linger in your scars. Despite the soft caress of your satin nightgown against your skin, every movement sends a twinge of discomfort coursing through your body, a reminder of the battles you've fought.

Tracing your fingertips over the pale, jagged carvings that mar your stomach, you're transported back to the horrors of Amarantha's trap, the allure of her twisted game pulling you deeper into her web with each passing moment. Rhys had begged you to stay home, his instincts warning him that something wasn't right about this meeting, this gathering, but something inside you knew that you couldn't sit idly by while he faced danger alone. And so you insisted on accompanying him, despite the protests and the danger it posed to you both. There were moments of doubt, fleeting glimpses of regret that whispered in the recesses of your mind.

Especially in the darkness of those colder, harsher nights. Nights when even the simple act of opening your eyes felt like an insurmountable task, weighed down not just by the heavy iron chains that bound you to the ground, but by the imposing weight of impending death that hung heavy on your shoulders.

Turning onto your side, you wince as you feel the numerous scars on your back, traces of the lashings you sustained at Amarantha's hands. She was cruel in her efforts to use you as a tool to hurt Rhys further, inflicting pain upon pain in her relentless quest for power. But despite the physical scars that mar your skin, it's the emotional scars that run the deepest, the memories of your shared trauma with Rhys threatening to pull you back into the depths of despair.

Your wounds festered, infected by the cruel hands of Amarantha, who took perverse pleasure in keeping them open and inflicting new ones upon you, layering pain upon pain with each lash of her whip. Faebane slowed your healing, leaving you vulnerable to the biting cold that seeped into your bruised body, each breath a struggle against the suffocating grip of agony. On one such night, Amarantha's rage burned brighter than usual, her fury directed solely at you. Bound naked to her bedpost, your emaciated form contorted in unnatural ways, the strain and angle of your bindings causing one shoulder to scream in protest. She carved vile curses into the soft flesh of your stomach, taunting you with each cruel stroke of her blade.

And then Rhys entered, his horror evident in the fleeting glimpse you caught of his face before the mask of stoicism fell back into place. But his appearance ignited something within Amarantha, sparking a twisted idea that would haunt you for years to come. Forced to watch as Rhys administered the next lashes, forced to endure the searing pain as he used his Deamanti powers on you, you felt a sliver of relief amidst the agony as his apologies echoed in your mind, his powers soothing the raw edges of your suffering. He tried numbing your pain, taking away the searing heat that your wounds imposed. But Amarantha wasn't satisfied with just inflicting physical pain – she wanted to break you completely, to strip away every last shred of dignity and humanity. And so she made you watch as she rode Rhys, fucking him without hesitation, with favor, your body still bound to the bedpost, blood dripping down your exposed skin, your chest heaving with shallow breaths. She got off on it, the hot tears running down your face, leaving streaks in the dried blood on your face. Even in your state then, your eyes beheld a promise of death. But never had you felt this helpless, having to watch as Amarantha used Rhys as her personal sex-slave. Rhys was your family, your High Lord! And all you could do was watch.

It was a night of unspeakable horror, one of the darkest moments of your life. And yet, amidst the despair, there was a glimmer of hope – She was this mad because of Feyre, because she wanted to break the curse. As you lay there, on the floor of your cell, embracing the cold arms of death, Rhys hurriedly came barging in. He knelt beside you on the cold stone floor, tears streaming down his face as he cradled your head in his hands, offering what little comfort he could in the face of such unimaginable pain.

"Gods, what have I done?" Rhys whispered, his voice choked with sorrow and regret. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted this for you. I never wanted any of this." His words were like a knife to your heart, each apology cutting deeper than the last as you struggled to cling to consciousness. "Rhys," you managed to rasp, your voice barely a whisper. "Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault." But he shook his head, his tears falling freely now as he pressed his forehead against yours. "I should have protected you. I should have never let this happen to you."

You reached up, weakly grasping his hand as you tried to offer him what little comfort you could. "It's not your fault," you repeated, your voice growing fainter with each passing moment. "I love you, Rhys. Please... don't blame yourself."

But Rhys's anguish only seemed to deepen at your words, his sobs wracking his body as he pleaded with you to hold on, to fight against the darkness that threatened to consume you both. "Please," he begged, his voice raw with emotion as he called your name. "Don't leave me. I can't bear to lose you. Please, stay with me." And as you felt the cold embrace of death drawing ever closer, you clung to his hand, drawing strength from the love and warmth that radiated from him. "I'll try," you rasped, your voice barely audible now. "I'll try, Rhys. I promise."

And with those final words, you drifted into darkness, leaving Rhys alone with his grief and his guilt, his tears mingling with yours as he prayed to the Mother for a miracle, for a chance to make things right.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you try to calm your mind, to push aside the memories that threaten to overwhelm you. Today is supposed to be a day of celebration, a time to put aside the pain of the past and focus on the joy of the present.

As someone knocks at the bedroom door, you groan, burying your face in the pillow, exhausted and emotionally drained from the tumultuous memories that still linger in your mind. Calling out for the person to enter, you brace yourself for the intrusion, the weight of the world pressing down upon your shoulders. To your surprise, it's Rhys who enters, his presence like a balm to your weary soul. As if sensing the chaos within you, he seems equally stressed by the preparations for the day, Nyx cradled in his arms. Your eyes soften when they land on the toddler, his small wings flapping excitedly as he spots you, extending his arms out in a silent plea to be held. Rhys sits down beside you on the bed, a gentle look on his face as he takes in your tired form. Nyx immediately pounces on you, his laughter filling the room with infectious joy. Despite your exhaustion, you can't help but smile at the sight of the young boy, his innocence a welcome distraction from the weight of the world.

"Hey there, little one," you murmur, scooping Nyx into your arms and showering him with kisses. He giggles in delight, his tiny hands reaching out to touch your face with a sense of wonder. Rhys watches the exchange with a soft smile, his violet eyes filled with warmth and affection. "I thought Nyx might help cheer you up," he says gently, his voice laced with concern. "It's been a rough morning, hasn't it?" You nod, unable to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions that have been swirling inside you since you woke up. But as you hold Nyx close, his laughter echoing in your ears, you feel a sense of peace settle over you, if only for a fleeting moment. Rhys leans closer, his hand finding yours on the bed, offering silent support. "Are you okay?" he asks softly, concern etched in his eyes.

You manage a weak smile, squeezing his hand in return. "I'm... trying to be," you admit, your voice tinged with exhaustion. "It's just... a lot, you know?" He nods understandingly, his thumb tracing comforting circles on the back of your hand. "I know," he murmurs, his gaze softening. "But we'll get through this, together. I promise." The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, a silent reminder of the bond that binds you both, even in the darkest of times. "Thank you, Rhys," you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper. "For everything."

He smiles, a gentle expression that lights up his features. "Anytime," he says softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "We're in this together, remember? No matter what."

As you settle into a more comfortable rhythm, the conversation shifts to lighter topics, a welcome distraction from the weight of the morning's emotions. "So," Rhys begins, his tone lighter now, "did you hear about Cassian's little mishap with the ladder this morning?" You raise an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in your eyes. "Oh? Do tell," you urge, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. Rhys chuckles, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, apparently he thought he could single-handedly take on the task of putting up the decorations," he explains, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "But Feyre and Elain had other ideas."

You laugh at the mental image of Cassian attempting to navigate a ladder while Feyre and Elain guided him from below, their laughter echoing through the halls of the House of Wind. "And then," Rhys continues, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "just as he was reaching for the top, the ladder slipped out from under him, and down he went!" You can't help but giggle at the thought of Cassian tumbling to the ground, his pride wounded but otherwise unharmed. "Poor Cass," you tease, shaking your head in mock sympathy. "I hope he's okay." The Highlord says, his smile widening. "Oh, he's fine," he assures you. "Just a bruised ego, I think."

Before you can respond, Nyx interrupts with a babble of his own, his tiny hands reaching out to grab at Rhys's hair. You laugh, gently untangling Nyx's fingers from Rhys's locks as you listen to the toddler's excited chatter. Rhys grins, his eyes sparkling with affection as he looks down at his son. "I spoke to Azriel yesterday," he says casually, shifting the conversation back to more serious matters. "He should be back today, just in time for Starfall."

You feel a surge of anticipation at the mention of Azriel's return, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of seeing him again after his absence. "That's great news," you reply, trying to keep your voice casual despite the butterflies in your stomach. "I'm sure he'll be relieved to be home." He nods, a knowing glint in his eye. "Oh, I'm sure he will be," he says cryptically, a teasing smile playing at his lips. "After all, there are certain people who have been eagerly awaiting his return."

You roll your eyes, unable to suppress a smile at Rhys's playful teasing. "You're incorrigible," you tease, giving him a playful shove. "But I'm glad Azriel's coming back. It's not the same without him." The conversation ebbs into comfortable silence as you play with the toddler sat on your lap. When you notice Rhys’s eyes glaze over, the violet of his eyes dulling just slightly, you look at him with a cocked eyebrow. “Is our Highlord required somewhere?” You ask with a small smile on your lips. “Yes, I fear duty calls.”

As Rhys leaves with Nyx in tow, a sense of tranquility settles over you, the bustling energy of the morning quieting to a gentle hum. With a sigh of relief, you make your way to the bath, the promise of warm water and solitude beckoning to you like a beacon in the storm.

Sinking into the soothing embrace of the bath, the warmth seeping into your tired muscles and easing the knots of tension that had been building within you. With each passing moment, the cares of the world seem to slip away, replaced by a sense of peace and calm that settles deep within your soul. With each passing moment, you feel yourself growing lighter, the weight of the morning's emotions gradually fading into the background as you focus on the simple pleasure of being present in this moment. Only when the skin on your hands starts to wrinkle, do you decide to leave the comfort of your bath.

After drying off, you quickly set about getting ready for the day ahead. With practiced ease, you slip into your clothes, the fabric smooth against your skin as you dress. You run a brush through your hair, smoothing out any tangles and pulling it back into a simple yet elegant style. With one last glance in the mirror, you nod in satisfaction, a sense of determination settling over you. Today is a new day. Starfall to be exact. You would not let the past control the present.

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As you make your way downstairs, noon is just beginning to unfold, the soft light of the early sun filtering through the windows of the House of Wind. The air is filled with the gentle hum of activity as preparations for the evening's festivities are underway. You take a moment to admire the decorations that Cassian had so painstakingly put up, a fond smile playing at the corners of your lips as you remember his earlier mishap with the ladder. Despite the chaos of it all, there's a sense of excitement building in the air, a unmistakable energy that sets your heart racing with anticipation.

Making your way to where Feyre and Elain were sitting in the kitchen, you exchange greetings with them, falling into easy conversation. The smell of freshly brewed tea fills the air, and you can't help but relax as you sink into a chair at the table. "So, what's on the agenda for today?" Feyre asks, pouring a cup of tea for each of you.

Elain smiles softly, her doe-eyes lighting up with excitement. "I was thinking of spending some time in the gardens," she says. "I've been working on a few new plantings, and I'd love to show them to you." You nod eagerly, honestly intrigued by Elain's passion for gardening. "I'd love to see them," you reply, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Whilst you sip your tea, the conversation turns to lighter topics, and you find yourself laughing and joking with Feyre and Elain. It's moments like these that remind you of why you cherish your time with them. Suddenly, Elain's voice breaks through your thoughts, her tone soft and earnest. "I'm so glad Azriel is returning today," she says, her eyes shining with sincerity. "I've missed him." A pang of jealousy and irritation shoots through you at her words, catching you off guard. You quickly brush it off as simple irritation, unwilling to acknowledge the twinge of envy that lingers in the depths of your chest. Elain, oblivious to your internal turmoil, continues to speak, her words pulling you back into the conversation. "And I've missed you too," she adds, her voice filled with warmth and affection.

You nod, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I missed you too." But inside, you can't help but feel a twinge of envy at the thought of Elain's closeness with Azriel. Before the awkwardness can settle in, however, Elain changes the subject, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she again talks about the new plants she's planted in the gardens of the Riverhouse.

"That reminds me," you say suddenly, a spark of delight igniting within you. Your eyes sparkle as you remember the gift you brought back for Elain, reaching into your pocket and pulling out a small packet of seeds. "I found these at a market stall on the continent and thought of you. They're seeds for a flower called... um...“ you stumble over the name for a moment before recalling it. "They're seeds for a flower called Moonlight Blossoms. I thought they might be a nice addition to your garden."

Elain's eyes widen with delight as she takes the seeds from you, her expression one of pure joy. "Oh, thank you!" she exclaims, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. "I can't wait to plant these in the garden. They're going to be beautiful."

After spending a pleasant morning and noon catching up with Feyre and Elain, you accompany Elain to the garden to see her new plants. The garden is a riot of color and fragrance, and you spend a blissful hour wandering among the flowers and chatting with her about her latest botanical discoveries. As you bid Elain farewell and make your way back inside, you realize that the day has flown by in a rush of activity. You quickly run a few last-minute errands for Starfall, picking up some supplies and making sure everything is in order for the evening's festivities.

Time seems to slip through your fingers like grains of sand as you hurry through the bustling streets of Velaris, the excitement of the day building with each passing moment. Before you know it, the sun is beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the city as evening approaches.

With a sense of urgency, you hurry back to the House of Wind, eager to get ready for the evening ahead. Mor had promised to get ready together, and you don't want to keep her waiting. As you enter your room, the blond is already there, surrounded by an array of dresses and accessories strewn across the bed. She looks up as you enter, a bright smile lighting up her face.

"Hey there, gorgeous!" she greets you, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "Are you ready to get glam for Starfall?" You return her smile, feeling a rush of anticipation at the thought of the evening ahead. "Absolutely," you reply, crossing the room to join her. "I can't wait to see what you've picked out." Mor gestures to the dresses laid out on the bed. "I've narrowed it down to a few options," she says, a mischievous grin playing at her lips. "But I think I already know which one I'm going to choose." You chuckle, knowing that Mor always has a flair for dramatics when it comes to dressing up. "Well, let's see them then," you tease, eager to get started.

Together, you sift through the dresses, examining each one carefully and discussing their merits and drawbacks. There are dresses of every color and style, from sleek and elegant to bold and daring. Finally, Mor settles on a stunning gown in deep maroon red, its flowing skirts and intricate beading catching the light as she holds it up.

"This is the one," she declares, a satisfied smile gracing her features. "What do you think?" You nod in agreement, admiring the dress's beauty. "It's perfect," you reply. "You're going to look absolutely stunning." Mor beams at your praise, clearly pleased with her selection. "Thanks, love," she says, reaching out to give you a quick hug. "Now, let's get you sorted out. I have a feeling you're going to steal the show tonight."

As you slip into the dress that you had bought the day before, a soft sigh escapes your lips, the sensation of the fabric against your skin sending a shiver of delight down your spine. The deep midnight blue hue wraps around you like a lover's embrace, casting an delicate glow that seems to illuminate the room. The neckline plunges low, offering a tantalizing glimpse of your cleavage. With each movement, the dress seems to come alive. Mor's eyes widen in admiration as she takes in your appearance. "Wow," she breathes, her voice filled with genuine awe. "You look absolutely stunning."

A soft smile graces your lips as you meet her gaze "Thank you, Mor," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't have found this without your help." She beams at your words, her pride evident in the curve of her lips. "It was my pleasure," she replies, her tone warm and sincere. "But really, the dress suits you perfectly. I almost forgot how it looked on you overnight."

Shortly after she also put on her dress, Mor expertly braids your hair, her nimble fingers weaving intricate patterns, you can't help but admire her skill. With each twist and turn, your hair transforms into a work of art, cascading down your back in elegant waves. You close your eyes, savoring the sensation of her touch, the gentle tugs and pulls lulling you into a state of relaxation. "Your hair is like silk," Mor remarks, her voice filled with admiration. "It's going to look stunning tonight." Once your hair is styled to perfection, Mor moves on to makeup, applying each layer with precision. The dark, alluring makeup enhances your features, accentuating your eyes and highlighting your cheekbones.

Whilst the blond puts the finishing touches on your makeup, you take a moment to admire your reflection. The sultry gaze staring back at you sends a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins, the promise of the evening ahead hanging in the air. "Ready to turn heads?" Mor asks, a playful smirk gracing her lips. "Absolutely," you reply, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Let's make tonight unforgettable."

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As you and Mor descend the grand staircase, the sounds of laughter and music fill the air, signaling the start of the evening's festivities. The House of Wind is alive with energy, the vibrant atmosphere drawing you in as you make your way through the bustling crowd. Mor heads straight for the wine table, her graceful movements drawing the attention of those around her. She expertly pours two glasses, handing one to you with a knowing smile. "To a night to remember," she says, raising her glass in a toast. You clink your glass against hers, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "To a night to remember," you echo, taking a sip of the rich, velvety wine.

While mingling with the other guests, you can't help but notice the admiring glances and whispered compliments that follow you wherever you go. Cassian whistles at your appearance, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he offers a playful wink. Even Amren, usually reserved and stoic, can't help but be impressed. "Not bad, girl" she remarks in her typical deadpan tone, her lips quirking up in a rare smile. "You look good." While chatting with Cassian, his easy grin and infectious laughter filling the air, you can't help but feel at ease in his presence. He regales you with stories of past Starfall celebrations, each one more outrageous than the last, and you find yourself laughing along with him, caught up in the magic of the moment and the memories.

Amren stands beside him, her sharp gaze surveying the crowd with a mix of curiosity and amusement. She interjects with the occasional dry comment or witty observation, adding her own unique perspective to the conversation. Cassian nudges you playfully, a naughty glint in his eyes. "So, have you seen Az around yet?" he asks, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You roll your eyes at his question, knowing full well where he's going with this. "Not yet," you reply with a smirk. "But I'm sure he'll make quite the entrance when he does," you add, your tone dripping with playful sarcasm. Cassian chuckles, his grin widening as he leans in conspiratorially. "You know, I heard he's been practicing his dramatic entrances," he whispers, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Amren, who had been silently observing the exchange, scoffs in amusement. "Practicing? Please, Azriel was born with dramatic flair," she interjects, her voice dry as ever. You can't help but laugh at Amren's remark, nodding in agreement. "True," you concede, unable to deny the truth in her words. Cassian's grin widens, mischief dancing in his eyes as he leans in closer. "You know, Y/N, if you keep talking about Az like this, people might start to think you have a crush on him," he teases, his tone light but teasing. Mor joins in on the teasing, a playful smirk on her lips. "Oh, come on, Cass," she chimes in, "we all know Y/N's got it bad for Az. I mean, who wouldn't? He's mysterious, brooding, and let's not forget those dreamy eyes."

You roll your eyes at their teasing, but heat creeps up your neck nonetheless. "You two are insufferable," you mutter, trying to play it off coolly despite the warmth you can feel in your chest.

They share a knowing look, their grins widening. "Oh, don't be shy, Y/N," Cassian says with a wink, "we all see the way you light up whenever Az is around."

You sigh in mock exasperation, knowing there's no escaping this. "Fine, you caught me," you admit with a chuckle, "but can we please focus on something other than my nonexistent love life for once?" Mor and Cassian exchange a glance before bursting into laughter.

With an exaggerated sigh, you down the rest of your wine in one swift motion, the cool liquid soothing the annoyance bubbling within you. Setting the empty glass down, you grab another from the nearby tray, filling it to the brim with wine. Cassian and Mor exchange amused glances as they watch your reaction, but you pay them no mind, determined to drown out their taunting with copious amounts of alcohol.

As the night wears on, the rhythm of the music pulls you onto the dance floor, the enchanting melodies winding their way through the air and into your soul. Lost in the music, you move with grace and elegance, allowing the melodies to guide your every step. The lights overhead cast a warm glow on the dance floor, illuminating the faces of those around you as they sway to the music. Couples twirl and spin, lost in their own worlds of love and passion, while laughter and joy fill the air. You watch as Nesta and Cassian sweep over the dancefloor together, having the crowd watch in awe.

With each passing moment, your gaze darts from one corner of the room to the next, hoping to catch sight of him. Your heart beats faster with every shadow that moves, every figure that passes by, as you search for the one person who has occupied your thoughts all evening.

Dancing with an attractive Fae male, his presence envelops you, his hand warm against the small of your back as you sway to the soft, slow tunes. Despite your initial reluctance when he asked you to dance with him, you find yourself enjoying his company, lost in the rhythm of the music and the warmth of his gaze. His blond hair were neatly combed, his bright green eyes gentle and kind as they take in your facial features.

But as his hand begins to wander over your scarred skin, trailing dangerously close to where the fabric of your dress starts again, a shiver runs down your spine. The heat of his touch sends a jolt through you, igniting a familiar sensation. Just as you feel yourself becoming lost in the moment, a sudden shift in the air catches your attention. Without even turning around, you know he's here. As the music continues to play, you can sense him drawing closer, his presence casting a spell over you that leaves you spellbound and breathless. Just as you're about to step away, you sense a familiar presence behind you. The scent of cedar fills your senses, and you turn to find Azriel standing there, his tall frame looming over you.

Before you can even process his presence, he reaches out, gently touching your arm. "May I cut in?" he asks, his voice soft yet commanding. You meet his gaze, the intensity in his eyes sending a shiver down your spine. "Of course," you reply, unable to tear your eyes away from him. As the Fae male steps back, Azriel takes his place, his hand finding yours as he pulls you close. The music shifts to a slower, more intimate melody, and you find yourself swept up in the moment. "It's been too long," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the music. Azriel's gaze softens, his fingers tracing light patterns on your back. "I've missed you," he admits, his voice low and filled with emotion. A surge of warmth washes over you at his words, and you find yourself drawn closer to him. "I've missed you too," you confess, your heart racing in your chest. As you continue to dance, the tension between you and Azriel is palpable, crackling in the air like electricity. His hand lingers on your waist, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"I can't believe you're finally back," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the music. You meet his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. "I can't believe it either," you reply, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "It feels like it's been an eternity." Azriel's eyes soften, a hint of sadness flickering in their depths. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to greet you when you returned," he says, his voice filled with regret. "I wanted to be the first one to welcome you home."

You reach up, gently touching his cheek. "It's okay," you assure him, your thumb tracing the line of his jaw. "I know you had your duties to attend to." A faint smile plays at the corners of Azriel's lips then, and he leans into your touch. How he had missed it to feel your gentle reassuring touch. "Still, I wish I could have been here for you," he murmurs, his voice deep and husky. As the song comes to an end, you stare at each other. Reluctantly, Azriel releases your hand, his touch lingering for a moment longer before he takes a step back. The music fades into the background, drowned out by the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

For a moment, the two of you simply stand there, lost in each other's gaze, the world around you fading away until there's nothing left but the space between you. Then, with a soft smile, Azriel breaks the silence. "Would you like to take a walk?" he asks, his voice gentle and inviting.

You nod, a warm feeling spreading through you at the prospect of spending more time with him. "I'd like that," you reply, returning his smile. Together, you slip away from the dance floor, the night air cool against your skin as you step out onto the balcony. The city sprawls out before you, its lights twinkling in the darkness like a sea of stars.

Feeling his gaze upon you, you can't help but shift slightly under his scrutiny, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you realize just how closely he's examining you. You bite your lip nervously, suddenly hyper-aware of every curve and contour of your body that's on display in the dress. As Azriel's eyes linger on your figure, you can't help but notice the way his gaze seems to heat up, his breath catching in his throat. A thrill shoots through you at the intensity of his stare, igniting a fire in the pit of your stomach.

For a moment, neither of you says anything, the air between you charged with unspoken desire. Then, with a slight cough to clear his throat, Azriel tears his gaze away from you, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice husky with emotion. "I didn't mean to stare." You shake your head, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "It's okay," you reply softly. "I... I don't mind."

You reach out tentatively, your hand finding his arm in a comforting gesture. "Azriel," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "there's something I've been wanting to tell you." He turns to face you, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "What is it?" he asks, concern lacing his every word. You take a deep breath, summoning all your courage. “I-“  Before you can finish your sentence, the door to the balcony swings open, and Feyre steps out, her eyes widening in surprise when she sees the two of you standing there together.

"Oh, sorry," she stammers, quickly averting her gaze. "I didn't mean to interrupt." Azriel clears his throat, stepping back slightly to give Feyre some space. "It's alright," he says, his voice a little strained. "We were just... talking." she nods, though there's a knowing glint in her eyes as she looks between the two of you. "Right, well, I'll leave you two to it then," she says, retreating back inside. You and Azriel exchange a glance, a silent understanding passing between you. It seems that fate has other plans for your conversation, at least for now.

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When Azriel winnowed into Rhys's study earlier that day, he was greeted by the familiar sight of his brother sitting behind the desk, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. Rhys's gaze meets his, and Azriel's eyes widen as the scent of you fills his senses, sending a jolt of anticipation coursing through him. It wasn’t dull and faded, not like the pillows in your bedroom. No, you had to have been in this room today. Rhys raises an eyebrow at his brother’s dumbfounded face, his smirk growing more pronounced. "Took you long enough to notice," he says, amusement lacing his tone.

Azriel's lips twitch into a half-smile as he strides further into the room, his movements fluid and graceful. "I was preoccupied," he replies, his voice gruff. "But I'm here now." Rhys chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "I can see that," he says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "So, how was your mission?" Azriel takes a moment to compose himself, his mind still reeling from the unexpected encounter with your scent. "Successful," he replies, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him. His resolve snapped. "But I'll fill you in on the details later. Right now, I have other matters to attend to."

Rhys arches an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Of course," he says, his tone teasing. "Wouldn't want to keep her waiting, would you?" Azriel's cheeks flush slightly at his brother's teasing remark, but he maintains his composure. "No," he says, his voice tinged with determination. "I wouldn't."

As Azriel takes flight for the House of Wind, his mind races with a whirlwind of emotions. Excitement courses through his veins, an unexpected thrill at the thought of seeing you again after nine long months apart. He hadn't dared to hope that you would be back, hadn't allowed himself to entertain the possibility of your return. And yet, here you were, your presence filling him with a sense of longing he just started to realize he'd been harboring.

The memory of your scent lingers in his mind, haunting him with its intoxicating sweetness. It's a scent he knows all too well, one that has the power to drive him to madness with desire. Even now, as he flies through the night sky, he can't shake the memory of you, the way your scent wraps around him like a warm embrace. Only yesterday had he thought about that exact smell while fucking his hand wishing it was yours instead.

Cursing himself for his wayward thoughts, Azriel frowns, attempting to push aside the overwhelming tide of emotions threatening to consume him.

As Azriel lands gracefully on the balcony of the House of Wind, he braces himself  for their reunion. He had just made his way here in record time, flying like his life depended on it. His heart pounds in his chest, the anticipation of seeing you again after so long almost too much to bear. With each step he takes, his eyes scan the crowded room, searching for your familiar form amidst the mass of guests.

And then he sees you.

His breath catches in his throat as he takes you in, his brain short-circuiting at the sight of you. You’re wearing a dress, and it clings to you like a second skin, accentuating every curve and contour of your body. His gaze lingers on the scars that trail across your back, a witness to the battles you had fought and the strength you possess. But it's not just your appearance that captivates him. It's the way you move, the grace and confidence with which you carry yourself, as if you own the very air around you. And you do, completely oblivious to the hungry and captivated stares you gain, turning heads everywhere you appear. Then his attention finally shifts to the Fae dancing with you, his hand lingering dangerously close to your exposed skin, and a surge of possessiveness courses through him. You’re wearing his colors, he realizes with a jolt, a flicker of irritation igniting within him at the thought of someone else daring to touch what belongs to him. A growl rumbles in Azriel's chest, low and threatening, as the surge of jealousy within him reaches a fever pitch. He takes a step forward, hazel eyes blazing with anger, his wings flaring out instinctively behind him.

But before he can make his move, Mor appears at his side, a knowing smirk on her lips as she nudges him playfully. "Easy there, big guy," she says, her voice low and playful. "No need to start a brawl on Starfall."

Azriel grits his teeth, torn between his desire to protect what's his and the knowledge that Mor is right. He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to reign in his emotions. While Azriel briefly exchanges pleasantries with Mor, his mind is consumed by thoughts of you. He can hardly focus on their conversation, his attention drawn inexorably back to where you stand across the room. He can feel his Illyrian instincts surging to the forefront, urging him to claim what's rightfully his. Shadowy tendrils dance around him frantically, pushing, pulling, as if they too wanted him to whisk you away from the other male’s embrace.

Finally having had enough, he excuses himself from Mor's company. Azriel prowls across the room with purposeful strides. His presence alone is enough to send a ripple of unease through the crowd, his menacing aura palpable as he approaches. When he reaches your side, the Fae male dancing with you seems to shrink back in fear, intimidated by the intensity of Azriel's gaze. But Azriel pays him no mind, his attention wholly consumed by you.

His shadows whispering words of possession and desire in his ears, chanting “Beautiful, beautiful” over and over. ”Ours, ours” Azriel can hardly contain the primal urges that surge within him. All he can think about is claiming you, marking you as his own for all the world to see. And as he draws closer, the air crackling with anticipation, he knows that he won't be satisfied until you’re in his arms, where you belong. He just wants to sink his teeth into the soft flesh of your neck. Suppressing a groan, he twirls you around, his hands easily finding their way onto your hips, softly squeezing them while leading the dance.

When the song came to an end, he felt like he was stood in the summer courts afternoon sun again. He needed some fresh air, some more quietness, and he selfishly wanted to be the sole bearer of your company.

By the Cauldron, as you made your way onto the balcony, him trailing behind you a few steps, he silently swore under his breath. Suddenly he was questioning his decision to be alone with you. Again, he asked himself why. Why have the last nine months been such a torture? Why did it feel like there was no oxygen left in his lungs when you and Mor had winnowed away and departed for your mission? And only now could he breathe again, truly breathe. And with every inhale, the scent of sweet lilies and freshly fallen rain assaulted his senses, clawing into the very essence of his being.

Only as you shifted on your feet slightly did he notice that he was straight up staring at you. Shit. As a soft blush made its way onto your cheeks then, he wanted to melt. Did you like the way he looked at you? Had the past nine months felt as maddening for you as they had felt for him? Questions upon questions infiltrated his mind as you looked upon Velaris together. And when you spoke again, wanting, no, needing to tell him something, he felt his stomach drop. Had you found someone on the continent?

When Feyre interrupted you mid-sentence solely by appearing, he didn’t know if he should curse or thank her for the disturbance. But the way your brows furrowed and how the light in your eyes ebbed out a little bit, made him feel a pang in his chest.

He cleared his throat, trying to shake off the sudden tension that had settled between you. And as Feyre excused herself again, he spoke up. "What were you saying?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He needed to know, needed to hear your words, even if they shattered his heart into a million pieces. You hesitated for a moment, the words caught in your throat as you searched for an excuse, anything to deflect from the truth. "It's nothing," you replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "Just... something I've been thinking about lately. But it's not important." A lie.

He studied your expression, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features before he masked it with a small smile of his own. "Alright," he murmured, though he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to your words than you were letting on. Turning back to Azriel, you couldn't help but notice the way the moonlight danced across his features, casting a soft glow around him that made your heart flutter again.

"You know," he began, breaking the comfortable silence between you, "I never expected to find you here tonight. It's... a pleasant surprise."

You chuckled softly, the sound carrying on the gentle breeze. "Well, it's not every day that we get to celebrate Starfall together," you replied, a hint of warmth in your voice. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." There was hidden meaning in your words that he didn’t fail to miss.

His eyes softened at your words, a silent understanding passing between you. "I'm glad you're here," he murmured, his gaze never leaving yours. "It wouldn't be the same without you."

Wearing a tender smile, Azriel reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against yours. "You look beautiful tonight," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. A soft blush crept onto your cheeks at his compliment, and you couldn't help but return his smile. "Thank you," you replied, your voice filled with sincerity. "You don't look too bad yourself."

He chuckled softly, the sound like music to your ears. "High praise coming from you," he teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You laughed, a light and carefree sound that echoed in the night air. "Well, I do have good taste," you quipped, nudging him playfully.

With trembling hands, you reached out to touch him, your fingers grazing lightly against his cheek as you traced the contours of his face. His eyes fluttered closed at your touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he leaned into your caress. Every nerve in his body seemed to come alive at your gentle caress, his senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensation of your touch. With a shaky breath, he opened his eyes, meeting your gaze with a depth of emotion that words could not express. In that moment, he felt as though he could drown in the ocean of your eyes.

With a tender yet sure touch, Azriel pulled you into his embrace, his arms enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and safety. The scent of cedar and winter air surrounded you, his presence filling every corner of your senses. Azriel can't help himself, his urge to feel you pressed against him. He had missed you too much, and the way you just looked at him had him questioning why the hell he waited so long to do this. His hazel eyes glint as he lets them roam over your face, examining the gentle curve of your full lips, dipping down to follow the line of revealed skin, ending where your breasts are pressed firmly to his chest. The intensity of his stare sends shivers down your spine, your skin tingling with a delicious combination of desire and longing.

With each passing moment, the space between you seems to shrink, until there is barely a breath of air separating your bodies. You can feel the heat emanating from him, warming you from the inside out. His eyes, darkened with lust, hold you captive, their intensity rendering you speechless. You can't help but shiver under his gaze, your entire being yearning for the touch of his lips against yours.

As he leans in closer, his brows furrowed in concentration, you can't help but tremble under his touch. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, a subconscious gesture. You feel the gentle pressure of his body against yours, his warmth seeping into your skin as he presses you back against the railing. Unable to contain the rush of emotions coursing through you, a soft whimper escapes your lips. "Azriel." His name leaves you sounding more like a soft whine than anything else. He inhales sharply, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath as he savors the way his name rolls off your tongue. "say it again." he pleads, his voice husky with longing, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "Azriel..." You breathe out again. A sinful moan escapes his lips at the sound of his name spoken by you, his head bowing forward as he presses his forehead against yours. Your hands claw at his chest, fisting his shirt.

“Can I kiss you?” Azriel’s voice sounds strained as he asks you. All you can manage is a whimpered “Please.” And that’s all he needs, as if your words just shattered his restraint, he surges forward, capturing your lips with his own. You melt into each other’s touch, lips slanted over another, one of Azriel’s marred hands comes up to cup one of your cheeks, tilting your head back slightly to deepen the kiss. You press into him more, gasping when you feel a muscled thigh lodged between your legs, the friction causing you to shake slightly. Azriel swipes his tongue over your bottom lip then, venturing further as you gasp, tasting you. Both of you, completely tangled into each other, breathe heavily when you part. Only then do you realize that the stars had begun their journey, thousands upon thousands of bright streaks flashing through the sky.

The sparkling light of the falling stars reflected in Azriel’s eyes, making them shine even brighter than they already were. You followed his gaze as you saw his orbs wander to look behind you. The night sky shone with glittering starlight, painting Velaris in a colorful bright hue. In complete and utter awe, you shift slightly, watching the stars make their way to whatever destination. “Breathtaking.” Azriel mumbles huskily and you can’t help but agree. When you turn to face him again, you realize that he was still looking at you. A soft blush makes its way onto your already flushed face.

Azriel was a warrior, the Night Court’s Spymaster and Shadowsinger, he had fought plenty of battles before, always coming out on top and alive. But as he stared at you then, his heart rapidly beating in his chest, he found himself on his knees for the first time, loosing his restraint, loosing his composure. Because when he looked at you then, face bathed in the soft lights of the falling stars, skin flushed and lips swollen, it snapped. And when it did, everything made sense.

His eyes were wide and filled with something you couldn’t quite place. As you feel his lips crashing against yours once more, any words you might have spoken are lost in the fervor of the moment. The intensity of the kiss leaves you breathless, your mind swirling with a heady mixture of desire and adoration.

When you finally break apart, your chests heaving with the effort of controlling your racing hearts, you find yourself lost in the depths of his wide, expressive eyes. There's something in his gaze that speaks volumes, something you can't quite put into words but can feel deep within your soul. "Your face is a work of art," you whisper, the alcohol lending a soft haze to your words. Excitement clouding your head, the compliment spills from your lips. Azriel's features, sharp and defined, seem to glow with an ethereal light in the dimness of the night. His hazel eyes, like pools of molten gold, capture your gaze, drawing you in.

"Yeah?" he hums in response, his hands finding their way to the back of your thighs, pulling you closer to him. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume every inch of your being. And when he inhales deeply, the scent of your Arousal hits him with full force and he snarls lowly. "Your legs should frame it then,"

Your breath hitches at his words, eyes widening at what he suggests. Speechless you try to regain your composure. Then, with a coy smile, you lean in closer to him, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, "Careful, Azriel. You're playing with fire." The teasing tone in your voice betrays the longing that simmers beneath the surface, aching to be unleashed.

As the flames of desire engulf you both, Azriel's lips part in a husky whisper, his voice dripping with primal need. "I don't mind getting burned," he murmurs, his breath hot against your neck. With a trembling hand, you reach up to cup his cheek, your touch gentle yet filled with an intensity that mirrors the blaze in his eyes. "Then let us burn together," you whisper.

In a raw display of desire, Azriel's demeanor shifts, his jaw clenched with a fierce determination as he gazes at you with narrowed eyes filled with unbridled hunger. Without a word, he lifts you effortlessly into his arms, his hands roaming possessively over your body as he pulls you close. With a soft gasp, you wrap your legs around his hips, feeling the heat of his body against yours as you press closer together. The sensation of his hands wandering to your ass, squeezing firmly, sends a shiver of anticipation coursing through you.

In the blink of an eye, Azriel winnows you away. The world blurs around you, the sensation of movement disorienting yet thrilling. Before you can fully comprehend the transition, you find yourselves standing in the intimate sanctuary of his bedroom. Around you, the air is charged with anticipation, heavy with the promise of what is to come. Azriel's gaze meets yours, smoldering with desire as he sets you down gently on the bed, his hands still lingering on your hips. And as he looks at you then, looking deep into your eyes to search for any hesitation or regret on your part, you speak.

“Claim me.” Your voice is confident and soft. “I’m yours, Mate.”

With a primal growl, Azriel's restraint shatters, consumed by the raw, unbridled desire coursing through his veins. He leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, a fierce hunger driving his movements. In that moment, there is no holding back, no inhibitions—only the primal instinct to claim you as his own.

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I Can't believe it!! What do you guys think? Let's just say Part 3 will be very steamy. I truly hope you enjoyed reading this.

Tag-list:

@impossibelle @paleidiot @tele86 @namelesssaviour @sstrohma @that-one-little-soybean @mybestfriendmademe @durgenyx @shinyghosteclipse @katherinejess

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Sneaky Link

Azriel x Reader, Elain x Azriel

Angst - Drabble

Azriel gets off in the pantry of the River House.

Warnings: sexual content, MDNI

His deep laugh is nearly silent yet it sends chills through me. “Just touch your toes sweetheart”

I smirk and do just that, my skirts raised.

“Good girl” he murmurs, sending sparks of electricity shooting straight to my core.

I don’t have time to preen at the praise before Azriel is sheathed within me. Surely the Inner Circle would be scandalized if they knew the Spymaster was fucking “the help” in the pantry. Yet, here we were. His thrusts are hard and I grip the back of my ankles to steady myself from face planting into the shelves lined with sacks of flour and sugar.

“Fuck” I whimper as the crown of his cock brushes my cervix. Azriel’s deep, rumbling chuckle shoots a thrill through me. “Always a sensitive little thing” he whispers.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day” I admit.

“Quiet baby. We don’t want Rhys to know what you let me do to you on the clock. You’re a maid, not a prostitute.”

A calloused, scarred hand reaches forward, covering my mouth. The borderline sadistic Shadowsinger knowing just how much exhibitionism gets me off. I nip playfully at his pointer finger, which he quickly curves inward, pushing back toward the sensitive back of my throat resulting in a gag and corresponding clench of my sex around his ridiculous girth.

He only chuckles darkly again. “Asshole” I mutter and am quickly greeted with a sharp slap to my ass and another to the opposite cheek.

I so badly wish to chastise him but all that escapes me is a throaty moan followed by a curse. “Fuck!”

“Quiet baby” He coos. “Remember, we don’t want your pay getting docked for spending your work day being pleasured.”

“Says the Shadowsinger” I manage to rasp between pants. “Who fucks the help when he should be monitoring what- The smut Nesta reads? What Amren and Varian are up to?”

The only response I’m given is a sharp thrust and a warm, defined abdomen pressed down over my back before sharp teeth bite into my shoulder.

“I said, quiet baby” He warns.

“Never.” I smirk as his pace increases once again.

“Are you this mouthy with the civilians you fuck on your off time?”

He’s the only one I fuck but I refuse to give the arrogant bastard the satisfaction of knowing such intimate details of my life outside of the River House.

Warmth seeps into the pantry, someone’s started the oven in the adjoining kitchen.

“Hush, dove” Azriel’s sultry timbre borders threatening.

I bite back the moan threatening to break free as he once again prods my cervix. My hands thrust back, nails digging into the centuries honed muscle of his thighs.

“Good girl” he growls lowly and my sex flutters around him. His nails dig crescents into the flesh of my ass and I know he’s close.

“You’re going to drip my essence your entire walk home.” A command. No expelling his spend before I leave. No, I’ll walk shamefully yet satisfied with him leaking into my panties as I walk the chilly, dark cobblestone roads of Velaris back to my apartment.

A soft voice echoes from the other side of the door. “The self-rising flour is empty, care to grab some from the pantry?” Elain.

“Yea, my lady” Nuala echoes as she opens the door. Her eyes go wide as Azriel spills into me. She blocks Azriel from Elain’s view, slowly reaching for a bag of self-rising flour. Her gaze heeds warning to Azriel who, as I look over my shoulder gives her a sheepish look. Nuala has become fast friends with Elain. Cerridwen soon after. And Az, he’s been smitten with Elain for cauldron knows how long. His eyes practically dance with stars when he looks at her.

So I pull my panties back into place and adjust my skirts. Azriel exits the pantry first and distracts Elain while I grab my coat and sneak out of the River House and into the night. I splay a hand across the swell of my abdomen, the slight bloat that the Shadowsinger has yet to recognize. When he does, I’ll say it was some cad at a pleasure hall. That’s all he thinks I’m deserving of anyway.

—————————

A/N:

I’m not sure why some sick part of me loves writing Azriel angst but… here we are… again.

ACOTAR tag list: @lilah-asteria @thecollegecowgirl @mochibabycakes @nickishadow139 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @ahaha0246

[yourlittlebunnyy]

fawn -tamlin x reader

masterlist

summary: Y/n is the youngest Archeron sister. The Cauldon trasforms her into a fairy, and there's only one certain thing in her life: she doesn't belong in the Night Court.

warnings: slightly suggestive, Tamlin (haters step back🙏🤺)

wc: 5,5k

enjoy😉

The Cauldron made you a fairy. A fairy. You scoff at the thought. Nesta has become death itself, Elain a seer. You a stupid, little, useless fairy.

That day, when Fae warriors came into your and your sisters' home and forced you into that place, you never thought you would end up with pearl-colored wings and be able to talk to flowers.

You've always been shy, you've always made yourself small in front of others, and when they threw you into that pile of magic, the Cauldron was generous, in the telling of your sister's lover.

"You went in last. It could have given you nothing, as it could have killed you, but it gave you wings. And flowers, plants, and everything a fairy possesses. You shouldn't pout." But you never asked for that.

When they pulled you out everyone's eyes were on you. How could they not? They had never seen such a thing. Sure, the Cauldron could turn a mortal into a Fae, but a fairy?

You didn't look anyone in the face that day, or the weeks that followed.

"I would like to learn to fly," you once said to Azriel. He replied that he could not teach you, that the fairies belonged to the Court of Spring and that even there they were so rare and secretive that no one knew anything about them.

"But you have wings, too. You just need to teach me how to move them. Please."

Azriel shook his head, a neutral expression on his face.

"I can't. Besides helping you support its weight, your wings are shaped differently from mine, they are smaller and more fragile. I cannot put your life in danger." The authoritative tone makes it clear that the conversation is over. You would have hoped to find a friend in him. Instead, every time you try to talk to him, his gaze has only coldness to offer. Perhaps all his warmth-which doesn't seem much to you at this point-is reserved for Elain.

So, for you, the days go on with no clear meaning. You are not allowed to leave the house, and you can only afford to observe Velaris, such a beautiful city and full of life, from the balcony of the house.

When Feyre returns, you thought for a moment that things would finally change. That she would convince someone to help you get to know your new form, your new being. But you were okay, sure, you were a little confused, but you were living. Elain was much sicker, and all your sisters' priorities belonged to her.

You found comfort in Lucien instead. A charming, red-haired Fae who had lived in the Spring Court for years. That's how you became friends: no one would take you into consideration, and you were desperate for some information, some help. And Lucien fortunately seemed to have answers to your questions.

"I remember you. That day, I mean." You and Lucien are playing chess. It is rare that you talk about that day, but sometimes it happens. You don't care much, talking about it with him has helped you in the past, "Actually, I don't remember much. I remember what Tamlin reminded me of."

Now that's new. Never once had the Fae told her about his High Lord turning his back on her sister. She knew something about it, but she didn't know the whole story.

"Did Tamlin recall to you about that day?" She asks a little incredulously. Lucien nods and tightens his lips, makes a move with a chessman, and a feline smile lights up his face.

"I think...," he freezes for a moment, as if to think carefully about his next words, "he's playing some kind of double game, with Hybern. To get information. He's a good male, only sometimes he struggles to show it."

You feel a twinge in your heart. You don't know why, you should be furious with the man who took your life to give you this. The man who hurt Feyre so deeply. But the way Lucien talks about it, with so much regret....

You are sitting on the armchair in your room, already wearing your nightwear. You have a book in your hands and are completely immersed in reading, so much that you don't hear someone's footsteps outside your door. You gasp when they knock. You place the book in the small coffee table, and you don't bother to fix yourself: Lucien had told you he would come by and deliver a few things before he leaves Velaris for good. You get sad at the thought.

When you open the door you find not the familiar face, but Feyre's.

"Hey." She greets you. You return the greeting and wait for her to tell you why she is here. Although your new life started off on the wrong foot, feeling ignored by your family and useless, everything healed over time. Now the relationship between you and Feyre is closer than ever, Nesta is doing well, Elain is working on it. You have also learned to accept your sister's Fae friends. You even talk to them from time to time.

"I'm sad that Lucien is leaving. Especially for you" You nod, you know there is something else she is not telling you, "You know how much I told you about the High Lords meeting? I'd like you to come too, if you feel like it." You don't hesitate when you say yes. Your sister told you that not everyone had confirmed their attendance, of whom Tamlin. And she did not tell you about what happened with him. But something inside you urges you to go and meet him. It's for my being, you think, I just want answers, that's why I'm so impatient.

That night you struggle to sleep. At dawn you stop tossing and turning in bed and start getting ready, by now you give up: you won't rest that night anyway.

"You look wonderful" Feyre's words make you smile. She takes Azriel's hand, and in the blink of an eye they transmute into the palace of the Court of Dawn.

After greeting the others politely, you realize that Tamlin is not coming. You do not understand the reason for the disappointment you feel. Perhaps it is even better, so you avoid any awkward situation that might arise with your sister and Rhysand.

The meeting begins, and it is just as you start to disassociate yourself from the High Lords' boring talk that Tamlin appears.

He is alone. You don't remember him from that day in the Cauldron. But he is as you always imagined him. His blond hair reaches a little below his shoulders, clearly unkempt. His green eyes remind you of the blossoming plains. His skin tone is a rosy tint, his facial features delicate, almost princely. He is the very definition of spring, you think. He is a beautiful man, and you understand why his sister was once in love with him.

The silence in the air is tense. Tamlin looks at each person and takes his time with each one. And when he gets to you -- you feel his gaze run through your body, but you ignore him. You make a mistake, though. You look up too soon and meet his eyes. And now the thing is clear as day to you, what you feel in the center of your chest.

A bond.

Tamlin is your mate.

His expression turns surprised, his lips tight and his jaw contracted. He doesn't say anything. He moves on to the next person as if he hadn't heard it himself. But you can't contain yourself, and before you can stop it, a gasp escapes your mouth and tears cloud your eyes. You back away, stumbling back in your chair.

"Are you all right?" Feyre asks you, visibly concerned. You do not answer, but it is Beron, High Lord of the Court of Autumn, Tamlin's friend, who answers for you.

"A bond." He says simply, his tone both haughty and amused. Feyre sniffs the air, looks at you. Then she looks at Tamlin. And then back at you again. The look in his eyes... Rhysand says something, but everything around you is a blur.

First the Cauldron made you a useless fairy. Next the Mother punished you by tying you to Tamlin.

You listen to no one, with hurried steps you leave the room. No one follows you. Good, you think, I don't have to explain myself to anyone for a while.

With one exception, someone has followed you. Your body recognizes him before you do, your heart beats wildly, and you could cry from how wrong this all simply is. Your sister was going to marry this man. And she didn't, she ran away because he did something terrible to her, and now it was going to be your turn.

You stop in the middle of the hallway, and Tamlin grabs your arm gently, leading you into a small room. You try to ignore how such a soft touch puts a pleasant twinge in your stomach. No, you would never do that to your sister.

When you enter, no one says anything for a while and you feel his gaze on you, making you blush. He doesn't even know your name, probably.

As if he hears your thoughts, the Fae speaks to you. "Y/n." His serious tone makes you set your eyes on his. This is so wrong, yet looking at your mate feels like the right thing to do.

"How-how do you know my name?"

Tamlin smiles at your words. An expression so different from the one you saw on his face when he first walked in. It fits him, you think, and fear invades your senses because of the things you realize you would do, because of that smile...

"I remember it ... from that day, with the Cauldron..." Your body stiffens, as if remembering who the male in front of you really is. What he did to you. What he has done to your family.

It doesn't matter that he is your mate, you think. Your body may react to his look and touch, but you will not be betrayed by it.

Tamlin probably feels your emotions through the bond, and with a step forward he grabs your arm gently. He needs to touch you, and you don't realize how much you needed him to touch you, too. You welcome his warmth without fighting back.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n. I'm not just saying this because you are my mate, " Both of you seem to feel satisfaction when he says such words, the bond in your chest seems to glow and sing "I... had to do terrible things to protect my court. To protect Prythian. It was not in the plan to do such a thing to you."

You think about his words, his eyes shining with sincerity. Lucien has told you things that would explain Tamlin's words, that actually make him a good male.

"Tamlin." To the sound of his name on your lips, the man suppresses a growl. "I... Lucien has been telling me things. And I believe you, and I believe you are good male. But the thing with my sister..."

The look in the Fae's eyes becomes embarrassed, and the emotions you feel through the bond are a mixture of shame and remorse. You don't know what happened between the two, but it must have been really difficult if it causes him such a reaction.

"I regret how I behaved. What I did. I was broken, as was she, and I didn't know what to do. I just wanted to protect her, and to this day I realize my mistakes."

You study his face. You find nothing but honesty and pure feelings, and he is really putting your instincts to the test. He's so handsome that you want to jump on him, but on the other side of the coin-you still don't know if you can trust him. But he's your mate, and he deserves at least a chance. There's such a battle inside your head.

"I forgive you. For the Cauldron, I mean. I don't know if she has forgiven you, or will but..." Your hand moves to his where he still holds your arm, both of you smiling. "I think you deserve a second chance, Tamlin. And I -- I'd like to try."

The smile he gives you, so genuine that it makes his eyes sparkle with brightness, makes you realize deep down that you made the right choice.

You have not made the right choice.

Neither you nor Tamlin ever returned to the meeting.

When you see your sister and the Inner Circle again, they are all furious with you. As if you chose the bond. You scoff at their looks.

"You disappeared all day with Tamlin. Do you realize that? What was I supposed to think you were doing with your mate, huh? Do you realize who we're talking about?" Rhysand yells at you. Feyre, who does not look angry but grieved, lays a hand on his arm, and after what seems like a brief mental conversation, the High Lord comes out with one last murderous look directed at you. Tears sting your eyes.

"Y/n, he didn't mean to be so mean, it's just that they have so many unfinished business..."

"What about you? What unfinished business do you have with him? Why do you all hate him here? And I'm not talking about the alliance with Hybern."

"None, Y/n. I have none. I have had my revenge. In all sincerity I wish him the best. And I want the best for you, too. So if you-if you've talked to him and he seems to-you seem to like him I won't have anything against you, or him, if you accept the bond." Saying these words seems like a great effort for her, but you appreciate it very much. Mor grimaces.

"No one? That male locked you up - no, he let you drown locked up inside his house. Don't you remember what condition I found you in? Well, in case you don't remember, I'll remind you, Y/n. That male after she was turned into a Fae locked her up in a room, denied her every single space of freedom until she went crazy and we rescued her. So don't-"

"Enough, Mor." Feyre says annoyed.

"You want the best for your sister, and you send her into Tamlin's arms without warning her what he would do to her?"

You are speechless. Tears wet your cheeks.

"But he told me-he told me he regretted it. That he was just as broken as you and that he just wanted to protect you..."

"Those are just words, Y/n. But in actions--what do you think is keeping him from doing the same thing to you? We will have no right to rescue you and bring you back here, because you are in fact his. Think carefully about what you want to do with such an individual." And with these words, Mor leaves the room, leaving you whimpering and afraid. Feyre approaches you and wraps you in a hug.

"Everything will be all right. I know you are afraid, honey. You just try, never stop trying, okay? You don't have to accept the bond right away. Even when you move in with him, if you decide to, you can wait and see if it's worth it. And in case it's not worth it, you can always come back as a free woman."

"I thought you hated him."

"No. Everyone deserves happiness, honey."

Before you can even consider your sister's words, war breaks out. Tamlin takes Hybern's side, but as you expected, it actually turns out to be all a double-cross.

You can feel his emotions through the bond, and you know he can feel yours, too. Sometimes your dreams come together and you are able to talk. If you were uncertain about trying before, now you are convinced.

Once you even woke up in the middle of the night. The bond in your chest overflowing with emotion - lust. Excitement. Pleasure. It didn't take long to realize that your mate was pleasuring himself. Just the thought of it was able to make you damp between your legs, and you discreetly slipped a hand under the sheets and touched yourself fantasizing Tamlin in front of you, rubbing his hard cock with one hand, while his eyes were fixed on yours. You reached your climax in the same moment he did, and you could have sworn you heard his laughter on the other side of the bond.

It was also the first time you tried to touch that bond, pulling on that sort of golden thread that connects the two of you. Tamlin responded by doing the same, and when you went back to sleep, you fell asleep with a smile. That night you dreamed about how your mate taught you how to fly.

The next day you were not able to look anyone in the face, though.

But that was a long time ago.

Now you are not in the comforting warmth of your bed. You are in a tent in a war camp and you are freezing. Your body shakes as you try to rub your hands together. Your wings are sore and have taken on a worrying purple tint, you are almost tempted to go to some healer's tent and ask for an extra blanket, but surely they would be full of injured people, and they would need it much more than you do.

A wave of warmth through the bond radiates through you, and you are grateful to have Tamlin right now, but it doesn't stop there. He touches the bond, like he did all those nights ago, and you find yourself out of your sleeping bag, but not to go to the healers. You meet no one as you head to the Spring Court camps. Your heart pounds - you haven't seen Tamlin since that day at the High Lords meeting. A slight blush covers your cheeks. How will you look that charming male in the face after what you did that night?

You don't know which tent is his, but your body seems to know. The bond takes you straight to him. You can smell him - citrus and spice - even before you see him. You enter without even knocking or warning of your presence, aware that he is able to feel your closeness just as you are able to feel his.

"I've been waiting for you." The male offers you a mesmerizing smile. He is different from how you had seen him. He has cut his hair, and it now reaches just below his ears. He no longer has such dark circles under his eyes and looks decades younger. He is now the living definition of spring more than ever. The mere sight of the man could bring you to your knees.

"Hey." You greet him softly, still a little embarrassed. He notices, because his smile now turns feline. You're my little prey and I want to play with you, he seems to say. Only now do you notice a pungent note in his scent - blood. Your worry fills the bond. Yet you have felt no pain through it lately.

He seems to sense the direction of your thoughts, because he shifts his gaze from your figure to his chest. That's where he bleeds. He has been wounded in the chest.

"Tamlin... You're bleeding." He nods, then offers you a reassuring look.

"Oh, don't worry, it's just a little scratch. You, on the other hand, looked very cold earlier." He cannot hide his concern.

"It's already better here, much warmer." You still feel the tips of your wings sore, though.

"To get to such a situation you must have been freezing for a long time, Y/n. Didn't they teach you how to take care of your wings in this situation?"

"Not really-I tried to ask, but I never got an answer." The anger on his face is impossible to mask. He takes a couple of deep breaths before speaking again.

"'Brute bastards." He hisses through his teeth. You feel in awe at his words; they are still your sisters' family.

"Tamlin..."

"No, Y/n. I'm fine, but you...fairy wings are different from Illyrian wings. They should have done some fucking research. You could have lost them, and do you know how painful that is? You could still be losing them." He finally realizes, and jerks around to get his blanket from his sleeping bag. It's thick and woolen, and as he wraps it around you, it smells of him in the best way.

"You're taking care of me." He looks at you surprised.

"Of course I'm taking care of you, Y/n."

"I want to take care of you, too. These days I've treated the cuts of the wounded, I can help you." Tamlin lets out a low growl, then shakes his head. He sits you down on his sleeping bag and positions himself next to you. Shoulder to shoulder. Even this small contact, divided by several layers of fabric, is capable of making your heart race.

"Please, mate. Let me take care of you." Tamlin sighs, then murmurs an unenthusiastic consent. You get up with the blanket still tangled around you, leave the tent without a word, and return a few minutes later with gauze, alcohol, and a clean bandage. You freeze in the doorway when you realize the man has taken off his shirt.

A shirtless male body was no stranger to you. You had often accompanied your sisters to see their males working out. You had gotten to appreciate the muscles. But Tamlin... seeing your semi-nude mate activates something in you, something similar to that night when you came with his name on your lips. You blush and approach slowly, he still has his back to you, as if he didn't hear you come in.

"Didn't they tell you it's rude to stare?" You know he's only joking, yet you still get embarrassed. Yes, you are used to a shirtless male. But to a shirtless male flirting with you? Absolutely not.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself, but the thing that cools your blood is the wound you see ripping through his chest as he turns around. You look at him surprised, anguish and disquiet flow freely through the bond.

"It's nothing, Y/n. I'll live." You find it ironic how he is the injured one, yet you are the one being comforted. You approach in silence, your eyes fixed on the injury, and let him rest his back on the sleeping bag. You kneel beside him, the blanket now forgotten on the ground, and soak the gauze with alcohol.

"Put the blanket back on, Y/n. It's cold." You ignore him, focused on wetting every last millimeter of the fabric. Tamlin is about to get up, but you place a hand on his chest, blocking him. The contact with his warm skin makes your cheeks warm, but the blood on his chest freezes them.

"What is it?"

"The blanket. Put it on."

"No, I'll be uncomfortable while I medicate you." Tamlin growls when you answer him. You snort a laugh, protective males. "Do you find my worry funny, fawn?"

"Fawn?" You startle at the nickname.

"Don't change the subject, put it on."

"But I'm uncomfortable, Tam."

"Then sit on my lap and wrap it around both of us." You don't let him tell you twice. You do as he says and start dressing his wound, which reeks of Faebane. That's why it didn't heal. You notice Tamlin clenching his teeth from the burning and as if on instinct, you reach down to kiss his chest above the wound. At the level of his heart. You both smile, but do not utter a word. When you finish bandaging his cut, you give him another gentle kiss, this time over the bandage.

"So you heal sooner and feel better." You smile at him.

"You are such a little fairy."

"Is that an insult?"

"No, fawn, how could I ever."

You don't converse much longer, the fatigue of battle preventing you from doing so. You get off his lap and lie down beside him on top of the sleeping bag. You remove the blanket and he seems to inspect your wings. A satisfied expression appears on his face and without needing a word, you remove the blanket and use it to cover yourselves. Just five minutes, you think, then I go back to my tent or I'll risk worrying my sisters.

Five minutes turns into the whole night.

When you wake up, Tamlin is not there. You are under the sleeping bag, though. You smile at the thought. His side is cold, and you wonder how long you slept for. You get up and stretch, and take some time to poke around his tent, something you didn't do the night before. There isn't much there, but you were expecting it. You find a blanket with a note.

Take care of your wings.

You smile like a little girl under her Christmas tree. You leave the blanket there, but take his instead. It smells like him.

A little alarm bell rings in your head. Oh, God. Your sisters must be worried sick. You quickly grab your new blanket and run through the camps until you get to your tent. God, why did they put the Night Court and the Spring Court at opposite ends? It's an almost 10-minute walk.

You enter your tent panting where you find a very, very worried Feyre.

"Are you crazy! Where have you been!" She shouts without even looking at you. But then she does. She smells Tamlin's familiar scent on you. His blanket in your hands.

"Feyre...I can explain, I swear-" She turns a mocking smile on you.

"Ooookay. Maybe next time you warn before you leave. You gave us a scare!" She says without even time for you to respond, leaving you standing in the middle of your tent like a fool.

You and Tamlin have a kind of unwritten agreement. In the evening he pulls the bond slightly and you join him in his tent. The Inner Circle knows this, but says nothing about it. It's better that way. Once Nesta even came to call you, making Tamlin chuckle and you die of embarrassment.

He never tried to do anything more than cuddle you. And you are fine with that. You don't want your first time with your mate to be in a war camp, on a sleeping bag, with the screams of the wounded in the background. One time he even took you to the top of a hill and you stayed and watched the stars until dawn, then he had to go back to fighting, and you had to go back to helping the healers.

You are afraid to admit it to yourself, but you are falling in love with that wonderful man. And you are afraid of not knowing what will happen once the war is over.

The fear of not knowing doesn't last long, though. Because the war is over. Hybern has died by the hands of your sisters, and Rhys has even died and risen again. You meet Tamlin as the camps are being shown.

"Hey, fawn." He says, smiling at you.

"Hey, Tam." You return his smile, but a motion of sadness contorts your lips into a grimace. Tears are quick to stream down your face. You don't want to cry in front of everyone. Tamlin seems to understand this, because he grabs your arm and within moments you are on the hill where he took you to see the stars a few nights ago.

"It's nothing, it's just ... I don't want us to be apart." Tamlin can swear he feels his heart break and recompose itself at the same time at your words, at your tone. At the emotions you are sharing with him.

"Neither do I, y/n. Neither do I."

Tamlin kisses you. It's sudden and unexpected. It is not a real kiss: he simply lays his lips on yours. His hands caress your face gently. After a few moments, you relax and respond to the kiss with just as much sweetness. Just as much love.

"Come home with me, Y/n. Come stay with me at the Spring Court." You think about his words. The words of the male you are in love with, your mate. Your heart tightens with happiness at those words. You will think of your sisters later: for now you just want to be in Tamlin's arms.

"Yes."

Communicating this to Feyre was easier than expected, and since you had nothing significant in Velaris, you went straight home with Tamlin.

The Spring Court is... beautiful, breath-taking even. You can't hide the warmth in your chest, the feeling of home it communicates. And seeing your mate in the place where he belongs enhances the experience.

It is warmer than the dry cold of the camps, and you begin to sweat under the layers of heavy clothing. Tamlin notices, and invites you to follow him inside his palace until you reach a bedroom.

You take time to look around. The house seems full of life, smells of flowers and nature, and glows with gold. It is different from what you expected: Rhysand had mentioned, years ago, that he had paid a visit to the High Lord of the Spring Court, and found him in a miserable condition. And like him, so was his house. But to you that sounds like a far definition from reality.

The room he takes you to is beautiful. It is very different from the typical ones in the Night Court. There the wood is dark, the floors are rough, and everything looks like it's been through a battle. They're not ugly, they're just - gloomy.

While the Court of Spring is full of light and warm colors. The bed frame is made of a light, delicate wood and is carved with flowers and leaves. The room does not have much besides the well-prepared bed. There is a closet that echoes the pattern of the headboard, and Tamlin heads straight there.

He opens it, revealing a surprising amount of clothing.

"You can choose whatever you like, I'll wait outside." He smiles at you and you smile back.

You leave the room wearing a new dress. It is the one you liked most. It makes you feel like a fairy, but positively. It is definitely better than what you wear in the Court of Night. The fabric is softer, the pinkish white of the skirt is a color you've never seen before but already love. Tamlin's face lights up as soon as he sees you.

"You look beautiful in my Court clothes, Y/n." Your cheeks take on a rosy hue as you whisper a vague thanks. He holds out his hand to you and you immediately take it. Without a word, he begins to drag you through the corridors you admire all the way to outside. Into the gardens.

As soon as your eyes meet such beauty ... your breath catches in your throat. Your mind immediately wanders to your sister, Elain. How she would love it.

Your mate looks at you smugly.

"Do you like it?" You can do nothing but nod. Tears well up in your eyes at the relief you feel, and you realize you have lifted a burden, the opression of the Night Court.

The words come out of your mouth before you can even think them, let alone stop them, "I want to accept the bond."

Tamlin looks surprised. "What?"

"I-obviously if you want to. But-"

Your mate interrupts by kissing you. You are surprised the first few moments, but you quickly recover, responding to the kiss. The bond in the center of your chest seems to sing with joy.

"Now?" He asks when he pulls away from your lips, a gentle blush covers his cheeks and he is short of breath. He has never looked so good. You nod.

"A little further on there are some fruit trees. If you want we can go there."

You nod, and he takes you by the hand, fingers interlocked with yours, and once again leads you to some fruit trees. You take the opportunity to admire the beauty of his court again. Which will now become yours as well.

You stop in front of a loquat tree. In a comforting silence you turn to pick a fruit. You have nothing with you, and you struggle a little to peel it. You split it in half and offer it directly in front of his lips. He bites into the loquat with his eyes on yours. He finishes the whole fruit.

The bond seems to rejoice and shine and seems to unite your two souls even more than before. His gaze communicates to you that you have a long day ahead. A long night, too.

He kisses you fervently, his hands gripping your hips making you moan in the kiss. You didn't expect to feel this way. Sure, your sisters told you something about the frenzy ... but experiencing it firsthand is something else entirely. The intensity of what you feel is almost overwhelming.

You pull away from the kiss with a heavy breath. Tamlin's predatory gaze, the lust in the look, is impossible to mask.

"Fawn... tell me no now, or I won't be able to stop later." You don't even think about saying no. You desire him as you have never desired anyone. You want to feel him all over.

"Please, Tamlin. I want to be yours."

You spend all afternoon making love on the fields, careless of who might see you. You return only when it begins to get dark. A huge smile on your face.

You made the right choice.

@rcarbo1

[siriuslystyle1989]

Hard Liquor Mixed With a Bit of Intellect (Part 4)

Modern!Azriel x reader

Warning: Angst, Cheating, Elain bashing

series masterlist main masterlist

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As days faded into weeks, and weeks faded into months, Y/n and Azriel's relationship became a well known fact within their inner circle.

Fortunately for Y/n, after that dinner, her and Feyre's sister Nesta had sparked up an unbreakable bond that was only strengthened by Nesta and Cassian's unlikely relationship.

As an autumnal breeze swayed its way through her apartment, Y/n breathed in a sigh. This was her favourite weather, sweater weather. Days got shorter and evenings drew long, allowing for the perfect ambiance when she lit a few scented candles.

Taking a long drag of her cigarette, Y/n began to reminisce on the way her life had changed. She never thought she would have so many friends. The hours of gossip her and Mor would share was incomparable to anything she had ever experienced before, smutty book shopping with Nesta had become a favourite pastime, visiting Feyre to see her and baby Nyx was also incredibly enjoyable. Y/n had even seemingly cracked Amren who appeared to have a soft spot for the girl.

The only one she had never properly spoken to was Elain.

Elain seemed to veer away from conversation with Y/n. She had brushed it off as shyness but she saw the animated way she talked to Azriel and couldn't help but wonder what her intentions were.

Y/n took another drag of her cigarette, these thoughts swimming through her mind as the doorbell rang.

Hastily, she put the stick of nicotine out, moving towards the door.

As the block of oak swung open, she was met with the face of Mor. However, not gracing her usual giddy smile but rather laced with worry and remorse.

"Y/n, I..." she spoke, hesitating.

"Oh my god what's wrong?" Y/n replied placing her arms around Mor to try and ease the distain on her face.

"Can... can I come in?" Mor spoke again, quietly, not in her usual boisterous manner.

"Yes of course." Y/n spoke, clearly confused.

As Mor sat on the plush sofa, she rejected Y/n's offer of a beverage.

"Y/n honey, I need to tell you something."

"Yeah? What's up."

"I'm gonna need you to sit down."

Following her friends instruction, Y/n took a seat next to Mor. Grabbing the girls hands Mor spoke up once again.

"There's no easy way to tell you this." She sighed, looking up as if about to cry.

"I saw... well me and Feyre saw... well Azriel and Elain... kissing."

Y/n's heart dropped in disbelief. There's just no way. She began to shake her head.

"No, no he wouldn't- no." She shook her head as tears began to fall.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry he's such a dick, you deserve so much better."

"But why- I- I don't understand."

Mor brought her arms around Y/n and squeezed tightly.

"Shhhh, I know honey, I know."

As Y/n's sobs began to quiet down Mor spoke softly.

"Do you want me to stay?" She asked, wanting Y/n to get the comfort she needed.

"No, I- I think I need to be left alone." Y/n replied, her tear stained eyes looking up into Mor's.

"Okay, well text me if you need anything at all, either me, Feyre or Nesta will come, kay?"

"They all know?" Y/n looked down to her feet.

"Hey, don't be embarrassed, its not your fault. We're all seething at Azriel, Rhys and Cass included, he won't walk away from this with no consequences, trust me."

Y/n let out a shaky laugh "Thanks"

As Mor walked out of the apartment, Y/n began to feel icy rage take over her, travelling up her like a wave.

She moved towards her phone, picking it up and making her way to Azriels contact.

BLOCK.

.............................................................................................................................

Azriel laid in bed, scrolling through his phone. He really needed to stop doing that.

He struggled to sleep when Y/n wasn't next to him.

Two more nights and she would be back in his arms again. They had been apart for a week, Y/n having loads of college work to finish and not wanting to have any distractions.

Two more nights.

Putting his phone down, Azriel tried to snuggle down into the sheets, tightly shutting his eyes.

He felt the coldness of the other side of his bed seemingly reach out to him. Calling him to talk to his love.

Opening his phone once more, he began to text her.

Azriel: I miss you lying next to me, can't wait to see you sweetheart.

*Message not sent, recipient has blocked you.*

"What-"

Confused Azriel tried to send another text.

The same thing happened.

no- why would she do that. He hadn't done anything to upset her. They had been sending "I love you" and "I miss you" just hours before.

Why would she suddenly block him?

Suddenly realisation slithered its way into his mind.

Oh.

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A/n: Sorry for the slow updates im trying my best </3

Taglist:

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover @lilah-asteria

[thesunloveschips]

Eye of the Storm - Chapter 17: The Sovereign, the Slayer, and the Seer.

Summary: In the wake of Rhysand’s ascension as High Lord, the Bone Carver gifts a prophecy. More than five hundred years later, Azriel continues to wait for the one who is finally reborn as his High Lady’s sister. All it takes is a dip in the Cauldron for things to start falling into place.

Chapter Summary: Azriel and Nyra are sweet. Also, Nyra wields her power in different ways.

Author's message: This is the last chapter before a time skip where I'm going to speed up things by inserting all the fluff and the smut I wrote in the office, the public transport, and everywhere I got carried away.

@feerique always and eternally grateful to you!!✨✨

Word count: 6.8k (Enjoy!!)

Click here to access the Masterlist of the Eye of the Storm

****

Nyra remembered the day she poisoned her mother for the first time. 

It hurt every time her mother slashed her palm, seeing Nesta being moulded into something else, seeing Elain and Feyre walking on eggshells every day. 

Their mother had plans for them—Nyra to be poisoned, Nesta married to an old duke, Elain and Feyre sent to a horrible aunt. It was too much. Everyone was at risk. And their father was as unreliable and absent as ever. 

There was also the story of left-handed women in the Archeron family. Long before the partition of the lands between the fae and humans, their ancestors had resided in a land of snow, the proof of which lived on in their blue eyes. 

One ancestor had been summoned by a fae who prophesied about a left-handed female born into the family with a fate woven in darkness. To prevent that, the fae suggested forcing the left-handed ones to ‘become’ right-handed. 

That led to the cruel practice of slashing the left palms of left-handed girls, to force them to use their right hand. Failure to do so before puberty resulted in poisoning to death. No left-handed girl in the family survived.

Her mother had started slashing her palm every three to four weeks somewhere around the age of five and had started poisoning her by the age of twelve, nearing puberty. Death awaited her but that was merciful compared to the life her sisters would’ve lived.

So she did it. 

She poisoned her mother, passed it off as an illness, and the horrible woman finally passed away. 

Back then, Nyra had been poisoned enough for an aftermath that would last her entire life as an incurable illness. 

Then came the Cauldron. And then she’d died. Really died. 

Yes. It was a very painful affair. As if she was being ripped from. . . something.

Nyra was the only one who did not remember the kidnapping or how she’d been thrown into the Cauldron. Her only vague memory was about being drenched, walking, laying down, and a blue light before everything turned black. 

Her left hand had begun trembling and her scar reminded her of Azriel’s hands. 

“My half brothers were not pleased with the existence of a bastard. They wanted to test if their father’s illegitimate progeny had enough healing prowess so. . . they. .” 

Azriel hesitated to continue. Nyra hummed, looking at the night sky. She laid her head against his arm and continued to not look at him even though she felt his gaze on her. 

“What do you think of it?” Nyra straightened herself and looked at him, caught unaware by his question. He seemed expectant and nervous. 

“I don’t have the right to have an opinion, Az.”  She answered softly.

“I am a bastard.” 

“And?”

“My hands are like this.”

“And?” 

“Surely you must think something about it.”

Nyra looked at the night sky. “Why do you sound like you’re trying to push me away?” 

She now turned to him fully, angling her body accordingly. “It’s like you’re asking me to- I don’t know. What are you trying to do? Stop me from wanting to be your friend?” 

Azriel had nothing to say. He looked down at his scarred hands like an admonished child. 

“I’m not- I don’t even know what to say. Just. . Ugh!” That was the first time Nyra had ever let herself make a sound like that. Let herself not be ladylike as her mother had demanded. “Do you hate me or something?” 

“I don’t hate you.” He immediately spoke, sounding panicked. 

“I think you’re brave.” She whispered. “I also think that if your half brothers were alive, I might’ve struck them with lightning. Or poisoned them.” 

“Murder is a crime.” Azriel tried to joke. She found him so adorable. 

“Nobody can tell if I summoned the lightning or if it was actually a natural disaster.” She drawled with a smile.

“I can.” Azriel was now amused. 

“I’d like to think that if I were murdering someone, you’d wait with a shovel to hide the body.”  

Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. “I think I might just hand you the Truth Teller for your murder.”

“Wouldn’t want anything to happen to your pretty knife, Az.” 

“That pretty knife has drawn much blood.” 

“It’s too late for me.” Her words might have sounded out of context but the way Azriel’s features morphed into surprise, she knew he’d understood. 

“You. . .” He was looking at her again, lips parted. 

“What?” She laughed.

“I didn’t. . . I. .”

“I suppose it’s baffling.” 

“Consider me baffled.” He exhaled and looked straight ahead. “Wow. That’s. . .”

“Scary?”

“Surprising, baffling, mind blowing, yes. Scary, no.” 

“Would be the shock of anyone’s life if a woman like me scared the Spymaster of the Night Court.”

Azriel immediately looked at her, his gaze shaking her soul. “You’re a myriad of mysteries, Nyra Archeron, and I may be too curious for my own good.” 

She looked away with a smile, closing her eyes. 

“How about we exchange secrets?” Azriel’s proposal was tempting. Feeding her desire to know the elusive Spymaster. 

“Go on.”

“I was twelve when I first killed.” 

And Nyra grinned brightly at that. “Same!” 

It was strange to be talking and bonding over such topics but Azriel looked at her and grinned back. And under the night sky with a crescent moon hanging over them, they’d confessed everything about their first kill. 

By the end of that conversation, Azriel had an arm around Nyra’s shoulder and she was leaning against him. 

“I feel light.” He spoke softly. And she knew she felt the same. Years of bottling things up and she was finally unravelled. 

“I want to tell Feyre and Elain.” About how she’d killed their mother.

“Feeling ready?”

“I feel light.” She repeated his words and looked at him. If life was a little better, kinder, maybe they would’ve kissed. But this was the best of reality and this moment would continue to live in her memory. 

He squeezed her arm and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead and reality became infinitely more beautiful. 

Nyra smiled. 

The timing was bad. 

War was inevitable. The king wanted the Archeron sisters. Everyone was preparing. Nyra was learning to control her powers and access more information from her archives but. . . She was so attracted to Azriel. 

In her defence, Azriel should not be so. . . perfect. 

He was kind and so sweet to her. Always so patient and made time for her. Such a wonderful soul. So reliable. 

And he had a great face. That was just. . . Nyra clutched her sheets and turned over to the other side. And she turned again. 

She would’ve liked to complain because how was his every movement so sensual? And why did he spar shirtless? 

Nyra continued yawning but she couldn’t sleep. The first light of dawn peeked in from the corners of the curtains. 

Frustrated, she grabbed a robe and stepped out, walking through the dimly lit corridor. She reached the staircase and since she’d never been upstairs, she ascended. A door was ajar and she could see the lavender sky before the sun truly appeared for the day. 

As she neared it, the light of the dawn was covered by the glaring darkness. Dark swirls wafted over to her and stopped in front of her. 

She lifted a hand as she always did and welcomed the shadows to play with her. They perched themselves on her head and shoulders and crawled along the skirts and sleeves of her robe and finally played with her fingers and cheeks. Their cool touch made her sleepier. 

The call of her name jolted her from her haze. Feyre was standing by the door. 

“Hello.” She sounded so tired and sleepy and soft. Feyre took her hand and took her with her. The terrace of the House of Wind was in fact an open space and Cassian was yelling and Nyra nearly stumbled only for the shadows to catch her waist. 

“Careful.” Feyre warned, immediately at her side now that she’d realised her sleepy sister might need more assistance if she were to reach anywhere safely. 

The shadows were cool and so gentle and their wispy sounds were lulling her to sleep so nicely. Feyre helped her lean against a wall somewhere and Nyra no longer felt her hand. 

She enjoyed the sensation of the shadows massaging her head and shoulders and hands. And she was so sleepy she could simply fall and not care where she fell. 

“Nyra!” The loud voice jolted her from her haze. Was that Cassian?

“You woke her up, idiot.” Another voice came, low and deep and she could fall in that voice and sleep there. 

“Overprotective bastard.” A male laugh followed that comment. 

Footsteps and more voices and she forced herself to open her eyes. Her vision took their time to clear up and finally revealed three shirtless Illyrians to her. Nyra blinked and then frowned. 

“Won’t you catch a cold?” She meant to sound stern but she sounded too soft. A yawn escaped her. 

“I’ll be fine. Feyre darling is here to warm me up.” Rhysand sounded like he was eagerly waiting for that.

“And Cassian and Azriel will warm each other up?” She asked, her head tilting to the side. 

“You’re welcome to join us, Nyra.” Cassian grinned and she couldn’t help her smile at the early morning teasing. 

“I’d like to sleep.”

“You’d be missing out.” Cassian teased again and received another yawn as a reply. 

“Wouldn’t you rather have Azriel all to yourself?” Nyra smiled softly. She looked at Azriel and frowned. “Where are your shadows?”

The shadowsinger smiled at her. “With you.” 

And as if they wanted to remind her, one of the tendrils tugged at her fingers. She looked down at her hand and found shadows on her hands and the length of her robe. 

“Do you want to go back to your room?” Azriel asked. He sounded kind and his intentions were kind and her stupid self didn’t even bother registering that because his voice was far too sensual to her ears and it made her shiver. 

“You’re cold.” Azriel noted. And when her eyes cooperated with her, she found herself in front of a very sweaty, shirtless Azriel whose chest glowed in the early light of dawn. She blinked, took a step back, and lost her balance. 

Azriel had moved faster than she could comprehend and had caught her but sleep was betraying her for the second time that morning by abandoning her when she needed it the most. 

Because how was anyone supposed to see a shirtless Azriel in close proximity and remain standing? Nyra did not know how so she frowned. 

“I’m not cold.” She mumbled as the shadowsinger helped her stand straight. Her cheeks were warming up.

“And sleepy.” He helped her stand straight. “Come on, I’ll take you to your room.” Azriel placed his arms behind her back and legs and lifted her.

“I was not sleepy earlier when I left my room.” She mumbled, her head laying against his chest. His heartbeat was a beautiful sound. It was speeding up. “Your heartbeat is fast.” 

“I’ve been training awhile now, Nyra.” He made her name sound nicer than it usually was. Made her feel cherished with the way he called her name. 

And she wanted to do that for him. She wanted to love him. To cherish him. 

And she felt herself smile. 

This was. . . freeing.

Was this how it was?

To have a heart without inhibitions or doubts? 

How easy was it to see his face and forget everything else?

“Hm.” She turned her head towards his chest. “You smell nice.”

“I’m sweaty.” He had begun descending the stairs. She could feel it in the way he moved with her in his arms.

“Still nice.” And she found that comfortable space. With the shadows caressing her and Azriel’s warmth and the sound of his heartbeat, she floated away into the cosy dark. 

The realisation that her heart was leaving her to be somebody else’s affected her in a way she did not quite understand. But it was Azriel. . .

Nyra turned to the other side and slept soundly.

****

“What?” Feyre asked, amused by Cassian glancing at her for the third time. She had just entered wearing that starlit gown.

“You just look so. . .” 

“Here we go.” Mor muttered from beside Nyra. 

“Official.” Cassian looked at Mor incredulously. “Fancy.” 

Nyra snorted and Cassian scowled at her. Azriel chuckled from the front door as he entered. His besotted shadows were already floating towards Nyra. 

“Over five hundred years old. A skilled warrior and general, famous throughout territories, and complimenting ladies is still something he finds next to impossible. Remind me why we bring you to diplomatic meetings?” Mor shook her head, feigning disappointment.

When the shadowsinger laughed again, Cassian glared at him. “I don’t see you resorting to poetry, brother.”

Azriel crossed his arms, smiling faintly at the sight of Nyra and his shadows. “I don’t need to resort to it.” 

Nyra looked up at him with a teasing smile. “Really?”

Azriel stared at her, wide eyed at having been caught off guard. He looked away as his cheeks warmed while the greedy little shadows tugged at her fingers, demanding her attention again. And while she fondly played with them, Rhys had appeared. 

“I thought you were leaving.” Nesta’s voice came from atop the stairs. She descended, moved past Cassian and Morrigan, and stopped near Nyra. She patted her twin on the head and walked towards Feyre to declare her intention to go with them. 

“As High Lady, Feyre is no longer my emissary to the human world.” Rhysand smiled at Nesta. “Want the job?”

A spark flared in those silvery blue eyes. “Consider this meeting a trial basis. And I’ll make you pay through the teeth for my services.”

Rhys bowed a little. “I would expect nothing less of an Archeron sister. Welcome to the court. You’re about to have one hell of a first day.” 

Nesta smiled, something unexpected for most of them. She went over to Nyra and sat on the armrest. “Are you okay?”

“Not good, not bad.” Nyra replied. 

Rhysand looked over at Nyra. “Interested in being an emissary, Nyra?”

She looked at him, contemplated the offer, and replied. “When I’m feeling better.” 

“You should.” Nesta spoke, looking at her with mild disapproval. “Make use of those languages you learned.”

“You’re fluent in those languages too.”

“Languages?” Feyre asked. 

“Eight.” Nyra raised her hand.

“Seven.” Nesta raised her hand.

“When?” Rhysand was stupefied. Languages in the mortal and fae lands were quite similar owing to the coexistence of both species until five hundred years ago. 

“Mother nearly screeched at us to learn five. We got carried away.” Nyra answered. 

“I’m not the one who learned another language just to talk to someone she’d only met.” Nesta muttered.

“Tell me about this.” Cassian eagerly asked, forgetting that he was supposed to remain nonchalant with Nesta. 

Nesta looked at him, surprised. She simply stared at him before finally speaking. “Once upon a time, Nyra wanted to talk to someone. But he did not speak any languages we were fluent in. So she learned his language and finally spoke to him.”

“Him?” Rhysand was now grinning like a cat and watching an utterly stone faced Azriel.

“Shut up.” Nyra muttered. The shadows had begun tugging on her fingers, as if someone would somehow take her away. 

“Two minutes into the conversation and she pushes him from the balcony.” Nesta concluded, earning a shocked look from all.

“As she should.” Azriel muttered. 

Nyra looked up at him in disbelief. “You don’t even know what happened.”

Azriel walked over and laid a possessive arm around her. He squeezed the flesh of her shoulder to remind himself that she was here in front of him. “I don’t need to.” 

Azriel simply watched her. He could watch her for so long. Her eyes as they brightened and dimmed during conversations. The movement of her mouth as she spoke and laughed and frowned or cried. 

And she was so willing to allow his scarred hands to touch her. 

Azriel had held Nyra a few times. And he was always marvelling at how unbelievably soft she was. For someone like him, she was so easily pressed against him. 

And he wrapped her in his arms for a hug. When Nyra looked up at him, confused, Azriel realised what he’d done. “My mother likes hugs during her cycle.” 

It was true. 

“She sounds nice.” Nyra pressed her cheek against his chest and closed her eyes in contentment. “Warm hugs are nice.”

At this moment, where war was imminent, Azriel wanted to marry this female. 

Because every moment with her would be worth a lifetime of waiting and an unpredictable future. 

He heard her breathing pattern became even. She was comfortable and about to fall asleep. “Don’t fall asleep on me now.” 

“I won’t.” Nyra sounded tired and ready to fall asleep in his arms and Azriel was sure he would not leave if that happened. He looked at the people around him. 

His stupid brothers were grinning with Feyre soon picking up on the feel of the family. He was already suspicious of Mor being attracted to Nyra. The appearance of Elain at the end of the corridor, walking towards them, caught his eye. 

Elain looked at him and then at Nyra and hurried over. She took Nyra from Azriel’s arms and made her sit. Azriel knelt before her and took her hand. “Sleepy?”

“Hm.”

“Does it hurt?” 

Nyra sat straight, a little alert. “. . . no.” 

“Your tea will be ready soon.” 

“Hm.” Nyra looked at him and frowned when she realised something. “Don’t you have to go?”

“I do.”

“Then why are you still here?”

And could he ever answer that with the truth? That he wanted to be with her and take care of her. And that every moment he took here was his selfishness trying to salvage every scrap of a shared moment. 

At that moment, Rhysand walked over and patted her head with a fond smile. “Tea is on the second shelf from the top right. You know where the mugs are. Books are in the family library but if you need more from downstairs, Azriel’s shadows can get them for you. And-”

“If you want to go to the priestess’ library, ask Clotho for Inanna.” Mor interrupted her cousin. “There’s an ample supply of snacks and if you want something else, just tell the wraiths and they’ll get it for you. And-”

“Tell the shadows if you need anything.” It was Azriel’s turn now. “Tea, cheesecake, books, anything. They’ll get it for you. And if you want to go outside, tell them. They’ll take you wherever you wish.” 

“Do they go shopping?”

“Yes.” He’d discovered that recently when the shadows started spending his money on dresses that they were delighted when Nyra wore. He had no clue exactly which dresses they’d bought and Nyra knew nothing. 

We bought all of them. The little bastards sounded entirely proud. 

Look at the sage green she’s wearing now. 

Very demure. 

Very adorable. 

And we were very mindful. 

They were in their own world, celebrating as if they’d achieved something and Azriel did not even say anything because Nyra looked really. . . gods, he wanted to tear out his heart and give it to her. 

“No going back now.” Cassian grinned. 

Rhysand’s wings were now visible and as Nyra learned, it would be seen by the other High Lords and their diplomats for the first time. “I figure it’s time for the world to know who really has the largest wingspan.”

“Wingspan?” Nyra asked. 

Mor sauntered over with an impish grin. Azriel twirled Nyra around, shielding her from the blonde female but that didn’t deter Mor from nearly shouting. “Azriel has the largest-” Feyre nearly hauled her away. 

“Feyre. She needs to know this. It’s absolutely important.” Morrigan protested as if she’s been stopped from divulging the secret of the universe. “Azriel has the largest mmfph-” Feyre covered Mor’s mouth but the rest of the sentence was not hard for Nyra to guess. 

And Nyra who had been cornered by Azriel looked up at him with an amused smile. “Does the wingspan mean something else?”

Azriel closed his eyes and sighed. He didn’t know how to answer that. He opened his eyes and found himself enamoured by her. 

“Is that why you don’t resort to poetry?” She tilted her head with a smile, completely swept away by the urge to tease him. 

Azriel met her gaze. He did not blush, did not shy away, but looked at her with intent. He leaned down to her ear and whispered. “Would you like to find out?” 

Nyra’s smile was no more. The intensity in his eyes was beginning to be reflected in her own. She saw his gaze fall from her eyes to her lips. 

Something more powerful than lightning crackled between them. 

Nyra, now aware of her own attraction towards him, was not in control of her words or actions. 

Azriel, on the other hand, had simply succumbed to the odd bit of courage and had not expected the way she reacted. 

She’s attracted. She finds you attractive! The shadows nearly blew his eardrums with their cheers. Kiss her! Kiss her, you stupid male! 

“Go to your meeting.” Nyra whispered, placing a hand on his chest. She pushed him but he did not budge. 

She met his gaze and saw his yearning. Nyra really hoped she wasn’t hallucinating because if this male was yearning for her, then. . . this was probably the right time to faint. 

Why hadn’t she fainted yet? 

She’d been looking at Azriel’s unreasonably attractive face for this long. Surely, she should’ve fainted by now. Meanwhile, the shadows enveloped them and brought them to another room.

Azriel placed a gentle palm on her cheek. He was close. So close that another breath could lead to a kiss. “Will you be fine?” 

“Yes.” Nyra felt like she would’ve said yes to anything at that moment. This was maddening. Azriel was looking at her lips now. 

“What’s happening?” Nyra whispered.

“Whatever you’d like.” He looked her in the eye.

“You’ll be late.” The implication that he’d be late because he’d be occupied with her did not escape either of them. What they’d be doing to be occupied remained undecided.

“I’m not. . .” She trailed away and then kissed the corner of his mouth. “That’s all I’m brave enough to do.” She looked at his chest where her nails were sort of scratching on his leathers. 

Azriel leaned in, consumed by his own desire and Nyra’s, their eyes fluttering close, and then he stopped. “Not now.” 

Nyra looked up at him, eyes narrowed and irritation flashing in them. 

Azriel laughed lightly and grabbed her waist. “Do you feel this?” He pushed his hips against hers, eliciting a delicious gasp. “If I start, I will make us both finish.” 

Nyra scowled. “Since you have a grand total of zero intentions of doing anything, go.” 

“Must you be so adorable?” Azriel rubbed his nose against hers. 

“Must you be so annoying?” Nyra shot back. Azriel thrust his hips against hers, nearly going mad when she gasped against his lips. His cock was enjoying the friction far too much and ached for clothes to be discarded.

“Are you actually going to this meeting?” She did not sound like she wanted him to go. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Yes, yes, yes, yes. And even when he asked the question, he knew that she wanted him to stay. 

“There’s a war, Azriel.” Her mood dampened and so did his. It was a brutal reminder that things were too dangerous. 

Azriel stepped back and extended a hand. She gave him her left hand, her dominant hand, and he kissed the back of it. “I’ll be back.” 

The pair of them stepped out of the room to meet a very smug lot of busybodies. 

“We will talk.” Nesta gave her a secret smile.

“No, we will not.” Nyra retorted. 

“Anyway,” She looked at the smirking High Lord and his entourage. “All the very best to you nosy lot.” She looked at Nesta. “And if you sense that thing. . . right.” 

Nesta nodded impassively. Nyra saw Elain and her teasing smile and the older sister blanched because Nesta was going away for now but Elain would be here and she could be relentless when she wanted to be. “And stop smirking, Azriel.” 

“You’re not even looking at me.” The shadowsinger spoke. 

“I don’t have to.” Nyra then looked at him pointedly to see him shake his head with a close-eyed smile. 

“Brother dearest.” Rhysand flung an arm over Azriel’s shoulder and from where he stood, the Spymaster disappeared into the shadows to reach ahead at the Dawn Court. Rhys nearly fell before retaining his balance and eventually, his posture. And the company departed for Dawn.

****

What did he even expect when Eris had the ability to speak, Beron continued to exist, and Tamlin—Mother knew how much of that High Priestess’s insolence had rubbed off on him. 

Azriel knew his family could feel his irritation. A few of his shadows were with Nyra but that didn’t make up for him not being there with her. 

When Nesta felt something was wrong, the three Illyrians scouted for danger. They were in the House of Wind to check in on Elain and Nyra and found both sisters together. Both sisters were sitting on the floor with Elain holding Nyra’s cheeks and worrying.  

“Something is wrong.” Elain looked at Rhys. “I can feel it but Nyra is. . .”

“Allow me to help you.” Rhysand sat down with her and tried to enter Nyra’s mind only to be thwarted by a storm. The High Lord looked at the shadowsinger who was already sitting next to Nyra. “Can you reach her?”

Azriel focused on the bond, on that blessing that tied his rotten self to this wonderful person. Please. Nyra. Come back. 

“The Cauldron.” She whispered. Azriel watched her closely, wondering if he had been successful in reaching her. Nyra turned to him, her eyes still brightly gleaming. “It will break soon. There’s so much pain.” 

Her eyes returned to their original blue. “Az.” She gasped. He immediately gathered her in his arms. “It’s too wrong. The balance is at stake.” 

“Nyra?” Rhysand called and she turned to him. “Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”

“I. . . I think the Cauldron was calling for help.”

“Tell us everything.” Cassian had sat down on Elain’s other side. 

“They’re trying to break something.” Nyra said. “Using the Cauldron.”

“The boundary will shatter.” Elain spoke, her eyes now white. “Gods will rise. The mirror will awaken the Sovereign and the Slayer-” Elain stopped abruptly to shut her ears. “No, no, no, no.” And she kept chanting. 

“Elain, please let me in. I can help you.” Rhysand touched her shoulder. And they waited and watched as Rhysand help Elain calm down. She was now unconscious and a wave of night carried her to the bed. 

They turned to Nyra who was looking at Elain. 

“I’m staying.” Azriel spoke, his voice allowing no argument. 

“All right.” Rhysand. “Come to Dawn tomorrow.” The shadowsinger glared at him. “If things are better here.” The High Lord quickly added. Azriel did not deign to reply as he focused on Nyra. 

“All right.” Nyra looked at the General. “How is she?” 

“Physically, she’s fine but I think whatever she felt, it disturbed her.” Cassian himself seemed disturbed. Rhysand patted Nyra’s head and so did Cassian before the two headed for the balcony leaving Azriel, Nyra, and an unconscious Elain in the same room. 

“You could’ve left.” Nyra spoke as she continued to watch Elain. She waved her hand in front of her, lightning crackling at her fingertips as she cast a shield on Elain’s malnourished frame. 

She looked at Azriel and gestured with her head towards the door. They exited and found themselves in front of the door to Nyra’s room.

“I’m worried.” He watched her as she got lost in thought. He touched her shoulder and made her look at him. “Let’s have dinner.” She nodded and followed him. 

Neither of them paid much attention to the food or to anything else. They also did not mind as they entered her room, as she changed into her nightdress, and as Azriel removed his shirt. They quietly laid down, and chastely embraced each other, and fell asleep sharing an intimacy that calmed each other. 

****

“How did you even meet him?” Feyre whispered to Elain. All four Archerons, Azriel, Morrigan, and Rhysand waited as the gates to Lord Nolan’s prison-like estate opened.

“At a ball—his father’s ball.” 

“I’ve been to funerals that were merrier.” Nesta muttered, not caring if she was offending anyone.

“This house has needed a woman’s touch for years.” Elain sharply looked at Nesta before facing ahead. Behind her, both Feyre and Nesta looked at Nyra as if to ask how Nyra even approved of this match. The lightning wielder looked at them, raised her hands in surrender.

The stench of fear and disgust was overwhelming as the fae were escorted to the guardhouse. Nesta readied herself to control her temper and to let go if Graysen so much as breathed wrongly. Nyra remained observant and Feyre stood by her side. 

Do you think Nesta will kill him? Feyre asked, worrying about the consequences of harming humans. 

Probably. Nyra replied, looking around as they entered. 

And what type of person is Lord Nolan?

I might kill him. Feyre let surprise overtake her features for a single second before schooling them. She clutched Nyra’s arm in worry and in an attempt to restrain. 

Graysen entered and looked at Elain earnestly. His father certainly intimidated Elain enough for her stutter. Nesta took over, revealing the news about the wall and the Cauldron. Introductions were made by Feyre and Elain finally braved herself to make her request. Unfortunately, things escalated. 

“I have it on good authority that it was Elain Archeron who was turned fae first. And who now has a High Lord’s son as a mate.” 

Feyre felt Nyra’s calm fury as Lord Nolan said those words. She’d never been once afraid of her older sister. Her sweet older sister who never denied her a story to put her to sleep and keep away the nightmares. 

Nyra who continued to remind Feyre what it meant to have a human heart even though she knew that her older sister had lost her own many years ago. Nyra whose words carried her for all of her human life so she could finally find her own will. 

Wasn’t he the one who hurt Azriel in Hybern? Nyra was too calm as she asked. Feyre remembered that she had shown Nyra everything that happened in Hybern and now she was worried.

Yes. Feyre’s reply was followed by the roar of thunder. 

Feyre held her older sister by the arm and drew circles on the back of her hand because the rainstorm that had just begun was proof that Nyra was not as calm as her expression portrayed her to be. The High Lady held her sister long enough for Jurian’s side of the story to be heard. Azriel had vanished into the shadows to update Cassian.

We may have to get this problematic creature away from here. Nesta’s voice entered Feyre and Rhysand’s minds.

Jurian?  Rhysand asked. 

Nyra has recognised him as the one who hurt Azriel. Feyre clarified. 

She’ll fry him like a fish. Nesta did not sound worried. 

That explains the rainstorm. Rhysand sighed. Two idiots who don’t even realise their feelings for each other. He remembered the sadist Azriel could be while torturing people. He thought he’d seen the worst and the last of it when the shadowsinger tortured his half-brothers but clearly that wasn’t the case. The raven who’d touched Nyra was still in the dungeons, screaming to be killed. And for the first time, he’d seen the shadows actively torture someone. 

And- Their attention was drawn to Elain and Graysen arguing over the engagement ring. 

“Take. It. Off!” For a human surrounded by fae of such power, his audacity to shout was shocking. Things were about to get ugly. Graysen ignored his father’s warning and moved forward. 

“Take it off!” Graysen roared. Lightning struck the land right outside. Lord Nolan rushed over to the window to see the stables broken and burning despite the sudden rain. Graysen’s gaze followed his father. 

Lightning crackled inside the room, playing with the hands of one fae who had remained utterly calm. Till now. “You will mind your tone when you speak to my family.” 

Nyra tapped Feyre’s hands and the youngest let go of her sister. “You will grant sanctuary to any human who reaches here. And you will shut your mouth and do as I say lest you’d prefer that I eradicate everything in the vicinity.”

“You wouldn’t.” Graysen put on a facade of false bravery. 

“Or would I?” Nyra challenged and the human lordling couldn’t meet it as he looked at the lightning crackling at her fingertips.

And before Graysen could say anything, Lord Nolan grabbed him by the arm and dragged him across the room. “Get your faerie people out of here.” 

“Father, you cannot simply-”

“Listen to me well, boy. Whether she’s human or fae is irrelevant—you do not mess with Nyra Archeron.” Lord Nolan was supposedly whispering but the fae could hear it clearly with their hearing. 

The father roughly let go of his son and the latter turned to Elain. “I am not marrying you. Our engagement is over. I will take whatever people occupy your lands. But not you. Never you.” 

And before the insolent reptile could say anything to break Elain’s heart further, Nesta smacked him across the face. The fae departed upon Nesta’s declaration to do so and Nyra spared Jurian a withering glance. Jurian met her gaze and bowed his head. “Greetings to you, Conqueror of the Cauldron.”

****

When the war began, Nyra resolved to look after Elain who was having more nightmares. It was quiet between them and Elain’s visions were showing her all sorts of things. Some were calming, some were outright terrifying. And Nyra quietly absorbed Elain’s exhaustion. 

The end of the first battle came with a plan to glamour soldiers. Nyra simply tapped Feyre’s forehead and granted her access to her power. “Don’t overdo it. It might harm you.” 

And they watched the end of it as Cassian was cornered and he continued to fight valiantly. As Azriel in a cloud of shadows and blue lights fought to reach his brothers. As Nyra worried for the two of them, a flash of her power found its way to the shadowsinger. The sisters watched as Azriel slammed his fist on the ground, releasing a blast of lightning in the surrounding area. 

****

Nyra felt the wrongness of this dream. Thunder collapsed as she woke up. She looked around and found Nesta on her bed but Elain?

She threw away her blankets and took her robe. Elain was not on her bed. Or anywhere in sight. Nyra exited the tent and looked around. Everything seemed fine. 

Her eyes glowed and she found the trail of Elain’s golden magic. Without another thought, Nyra followed it. 

Nyra quietened. Mud and twigs and dirt and leaves clung to the hem of her nightdress and robe by the time she reached the enemy’s camp where Elain’s trail led her to. 

Nyra observed the rotations of the guards patrolling, timed them, waited for the opportunity, and snuck in. She followed the trail cautiously and reached a tent with a table, Elain, and the ghastly Cauldron. Wispy smokes emanated from it, taunting her. 

Once she’d helped Elain stand up straight, the younger sister began ranting about someone else. “There’s a child. A human.” Elain spoke between her sobs, eyes white. “She’s here. . . and she’s so young. We can’t leave her here.” 

Nyra hesitated. It was one thing that Elain was kidnapped. She didn’t even know how they were going to return. She exhaled, giving up on trying to convince Elain to worry about herself before others. 

“Where’s she?” Elain led her to an altar. One look and Nyra realised that Elain had not thought of how this girl was to be saved. 

The girl was human and tied to a wooden pole on the altar. Those surrounding the altar were playing cards and discussing how they would ‘take’ the girl. 

Rage swirled within her and the first clap of lightning struck the nearest group. Nyra stood tall, lightning crackling all over her body. The next group of people were examining the remains of those who had been charred and she moved in a flash of lightning. 

A flash of light was all that any of them saw before they dropped dead, vital organs severed from their bodies. After the massacre, the girl’s cries stopped. Nyra looked at her and stepped on the altar. Elain followed and began helping her. “We’ll get you out of here.” 

Nyra looked up at the sky and closed her eyes, consumed by the power she now wielded freely. Rain poured gently over the land. Lightning fractured the sky and thunder echoed around the world. 

A tingle passed through them and the next thing they knew, they were in the camp with the Inner Circle at a distance, with Rhysand and Azriel facing each other, the former’s authority weak against the latter’s unfiltered wrath. 

The sudden thrum of power in the air caught their attention and they turned and saw the three females. 

“Feyre!” Elain cried. The human girl had fainted in her arms. Feyre looked at Elain and Nyra, horrified at the sight. 

The lightning wielder looked at her blood-coated hands. With her hands, she’d taken lives. She’d massacred them. Her rage was a ferocious beast—waiting for the opportune moment to strike. And it had. She’d been possessed by something so vicious and it was an entirely familiar feeling. 

“Nyra.” Nesta called her but Nyra couldn’t look her in the eye. She was unworthy. But then she felt hands on her own. The blood was now on Nesta’s hands. 

Nyra’s eyes were hot and wet with tears and as much as she clenched her jaw and bit her lip, she wanted to scream. She had killed, killed, and it wasn’t the first time but some part of her was lost. And something vile had taken its place. 

Lightning was a frightening element but it was hers—the element that now bowed to her. The element and everything beyond.

Death embraced her twin, and the skies roared throughout the night, renouncing any sense of tranquillity. And Nyra mourned for herself in Nesta’s arms.

****

The final battle in the mortal lands felt a little personal. Maybe because she was once human. 

A few of Azriel’s shadows were with her, helping her with mundane tasks, bringing Elain and the Truth Teller upon her request for a distraction. 

When Elain stabbed the king’s neck, the twins moved. A hand wrapped in lightning ripped away the king’s arm, freeing their father, and the shadows whisked him away. 

The king’s corpse fell and three Archerons towered over it. 

The inky black surface of the Cauldron had started cracking, not letting Feyre move away and with Amren inside. A bird of light and fire emerged, draining more of the Cauldron’s power. 

Nyra reached the Cauldron in a flash of lightning and placed a hand on it. Her eyes glowed blue. Nesta and Elain had joined her, their eyes now silver and white. Feyre could now let go of the Cauldron and she watched her sisters let their power flow to fix it. 

But what Feyre thought was not what was happening. The Cauldron cracked further and a white light emanated from the cracks seeming as if lightning adorned the artefact. And then, it broke. 

Feyre was soon joined by her mate, the other High Lords, and everyone else when the battle was finally over. 

Her sisters pushed in a wave of power to contain the essence. The cracked pieces of the Cauldron rose into the air and above them. It came together, melted like iron in fire, and took shape. 

A brand new Cauldron was formed with legs and carvings. 

Three hands gathered the essence from the old Cauldron and poured it inside the new one.

And when the power subsided and the Cauldron was settled, the Sovereign of the Skies, the Slayer of the King, and the Seer of the Stars remained. 

****

TAGLIST:

@waytoomanyteenagefeels @impossibelle @esposadomd @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @judig92 @bunnyredgirl @sh4nn @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kattzillaa @ronnieglennn @wallacewillow0773638 @forgiveliv @justdreamstars @donttellthecats @cat-or-kitten @jojodojo02 @wandas-dream @evylynny @weasleyreidstyles @stqrgirlies-blog @why4anne @acourtofdreamsandshadows @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe @macimads @footyandformula @noelli-smv @mqlfoyelf @thehighlordishere @slytherintaco @spideytingley @deeshag @footyandformula @nebarious @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @prettylittlewrites @lilah-asteria @5onedirection5 @hanitastic @sevikas-whore @krowiathemythologynerd @myladysapphire @freyagallileaevans @azrielrot @rcarbo1 @i-am-infinite @latinxbipride @moni-cah @fantanbietsson @julsgrace @angel-graces-world-of-chaos

[shadowdaddies]

Here's my ACOTAR masterlist! I'll keep my posts linked here. 🩶

✨= fluff

❤️‍🔥= smut

💧= angst

💥 = action (ka-pow!)

Azriel

Cassian

Rhys

Eris

Lucien

Helion

Feyre

Nesta

Elain

Mor

Tarquin

Amren

Poly Fics

the beautiful dividers on my blog are by saradika-graphics

[rhenysz]

Your Dead Eyes - Chapter 1

Summary: Lifeless eyes were what haunted your all your life, many people say that death was lurking around your eyes, maybe it's true. Maybe you just see things that other people don't.

Pairing: Azriel x Archeron! reader fem.

A/n: This took longer than expected and isn't even half as long as I would have liked, but I've finally finished the first book and let's get to the real story! Thank you for the positive feedback 🙌🏻 This chapter was more about the sisters' bond, the next ones will be different. I think the Reader has an emotional dependence on Feyre 😥

*English is NOT my native language, this fanfic was translated with the help of an AI, any grammatical errors please let me know*

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Scars, family abandonment, mentioned death.

previous x next

"Do you not think you're exaggerating?" Elain asked you with forced gentleness. The sound of her sipping tea tickled your ears. Dropping your own teacup on the living room's coffee table – causing some splashes to stain the surface – you placed a hand on your chest in mock indignation, perhaps not entirely fake.

"I'd rather be thrown to the wolves than face the conjugal bed, and I must say I'm terrified of those animals." Your lips curled downward, "Men, in this case."

Elain's eyes crinkled at the corners, and the curve of her lips lifted even as she tried to dispel the amusement she felt.

"I understand. But maybe you should consider, I bet Feyre would return in time for your wedding." She spoke with her eyes lowered to the tea.

No, she wouldn't return. You wanted to shout out to Elain. Hardly would that beast willingly let your sister go, that is if she wasn't already in the belly of those faeries.

"I have no interest in getting married, sister. And who in their right mind would be interested in someone with my condition?" Your voice was soft, not a hint of resentment showing in your features.

Having a man in your life was not something you desired. They were rough, lazy, and smelled bad. Not even the twisted relationship Feyre had with that man could make you want one too.

"Maybe... you just haven't looked in the right place," Elain commented. Looked? Have holy patience. You were hardly going to look at anything, let alone a man. Realizing her bluntness, Elain widened her eyes towards you, "I didn't mean it that way, sister, it was just a figure of speech—"

Your laughter cut off Elain's awkward attempt to apologize. Your shoulders shook with the intensity of your laughter. Elain sighed in relief and awkwardly joined in.

Feyre didn't treat you as if you were about to burst into tears.

After that interesting conversation with Elain, Nesta barged into the room, interrupting – rather rudely – to announce that a luxurious carriage was approaching.

You could hear the rustle of Elain's skirts as she tried to beautify herself even more. Despite Nesta feigning an indifferent facade, she was also discreetly arranging her hair.

Laughing to yourself, you wondered how you must look in your supposed light blue dress. A hand grabbed your arm and gently lifted you from the sofa. Nesta, you could tell the difference. Elain had rougher hands from gardening, and Nesta's hands were colder.

"Let's go. Can you manage on your own?" Nesta asked. You appreciated that she allowed you to have your own autonomy. Nodding, you reached for the edge of the sofa where your cane rested and grabbed it.

When you heard the door opening, your head turned towards the sound and you went, dragging the golden tip of the cane across the floor, which hit the furniture warning you to dodge, and slowly going after your sisters – who were walking significantly slower to wait for you.

His cane hit the front door step. Carefully, you placed your foot in front to descend. The breeze made your hair flutter, and it felt so good; the wind kissed your skin like a longing lover.

"Welcome to our home... Lady." You heard Nesta as you finally caught up with your sisters. A brief moment of silence followed, soon to be cut by an extremely familiar laughter

.Your heart raced, and your free hand crumpled the dress you were wearing. Your lifeless eyes turned, trying to find the source of the voice.

"Nesta," she laughed, "doesn't recognize her own sister?" The air was expelled from your lungs, Feyre. A burning sensation started in your eyes, and without you realizing, fat tears streamed down your flushed cheeks. No matter how or where, you would always, always recognize your sister's voice.

The crunching of dried leaves alerted you that someone was approaching, a calm breath was blown on your face. Your trembling lips also parted as you tried to find the right words. Nothing came to mind; it was as if your brain had turned to jelly.

"My snowflake..." Feyre stepped forward, using her fingers to wipe away your tears. She missed you so much while she was with Tamlin. Her chest weighed every time she thought of you, her dearest sister.

Closing your eyes tightly, you let out a sob and threw yourself into Feyre's arms. Discarding the cane without care, your hands reached the back of your sister, pulling her into a tight and emotional embrace.

Feyre staggered under your weight and laughed. She laughed as she nestled in your arms and continued to laugh even as she felt Nesta's eyes drilling holes into her head.

You couldn't physically move away from Feyre while your sisters talked with her. Your hand clung to hers in the hope that if you held on tight enough, she wouldn't leave again.

But not even all the happiness you were feeling could make you ignore Feyre's excuse. Taking care of Aunt Ripleigh? You distinctly remembered that it wasn't Aunt Ripleigh who tore the door off the old cabin.

As expected, Nesta was cautious, hovering over you and Elain as if Feyre would reveal her true intentions at any moment. She declined Elain's invitation to go to the garden, seeing Feyre there made her physically sick, so she withdrew to avoid conflicts in front of her sisters.

You were focused on Feyre and Elain's conversation, desperately wanting her to talk about what happened.

Feyre tensed when Elain casually mentioned – distracted by the flowers – that Nesta visited her at Aunt Ripleigh's. Another lie.

You felt Feyre's breath near your face: "How have you been?"

Fine. You were fine, but not well enough to disguise the suspicion in your expression. Feyre quickly noticed and stepped back slightly.

"Why are you lying to us?" You were direct, no more beating around the bush. You needed answers, and not even Elain's presence would distract you from your goal.

Feyre widened her eyes toward Elain and was relieved to see that she was far enough away not to hear. Biting her lips, she grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward the exit, giving a brief goodbye to Elain, who was so fascinated by the new petunia seedlings that she didn't care.

You were guided through a few doors until you reached a room that Feyre considered safe from curious ears.

You crossed your arms over your chest and impatiently waited for Feyre, who ran her hand through her hair and sighed, not knowing where to start. Then she decided to start with the worst.

"I– I'm in love with the High Lord of Prythian."

If you weren't already blind, you could swear your vision blurred at that moment.

And then Feyre told you, told about how the other side of the wall was breathtaking, told about the peculiar creatures that existed there, told about her frenemy Lucien, and told about how she fell in love with the beast that turned out to be so loving to her.

And to your dismay, she detailed the night of passion she had before being – gently – sent home.

"I didn't need to know that. I have a vivid imagination, and I hate myself for it." You spoke with disgust; Feyre chuckled and approached you, taking your hand and bringing it to her face.

"I haven't told you everything," you murmured for her to continue. Your fingers traced the contours of her face. She looked so different but at the same time so familiar. Perhaps she had become healthy.

"There was a male who threatened Tamlin, he was handsome, maybe the most beautiful male I've ever seen," she commented absentmindedly, "he asked for my name... Clare Beddor."

Clare Beddor, the name weighed on your tongue. Clare, your former neighbor who was killed in such a horrendous way that no one could bear to look for too long, according to your gossip source – Elain.

Feyre had given a false name to the fairy assassin. And you could swear she didn't know what had happened to that poor girl. And perhaps you weren't the most suitable person to tell her about the event; Feyre seemed happy sharing her new experiences. And you? You would allow yourself to be selfish for a moment.

"I understand."

Your sisters and your father went to the seasonal ball, and despite Elain's insistence, that wasn't your place. Your place was anywhere as long as it was far from high society. You certainly didn't fit the standards imposed by them, even though those who looked at you were dazzled.

"A beauty never seen before."

"I would die for features as delicate as yours."

"It's truly a shame…"

Feyre promised to come back early, just like you; she didn't like crowds and pompous people. Feyre promised to come back early.

So you did the only thing that was possible – you waited. Waited while eating, waited while talking to some servants, waited while invading Elain's garden, and waited until you got tired and chose the living room sofa as a great place to rest.

Inevitably, your eyes began to weigh, and before you realized it, sleep completely took you, plunging you into a deep state of peace, unable to hear the hurried steps through the house and the slam of the door closing.

Feyre promised to come back early.

Feyre hated goodbyes.

Perhaps, just perhaps, you should have already imagined that this would happen. Feyre was in love with the beast, and people in love tend to do foolish things.

That didn't ease the chest pain you felt when the next morning you were informed that she had returned to the fae lands in search of her High Lord. The feelings of betrayal and sadness walked hand in hand.

At the same time, you couldn't find the strength to harbor resentment towards her. Why would you? For the first time in her life, your sister was dedicating herself to something that truly made her happy. It didn't matter if she was leaving her family behind, right? No, that mattered to you.

Nesta hated dealing with your whirlwind of emotions; she hated that you depended on someone to be happy, and she made it clear when you woke up.

"Feyre is not responsible for what you feel. You are allowing yourself to stay in this state. Stop depending on her to live."

Despite being harsh, Nesta was spot-on with her words. Feyre was finally living her dream life; it was time for you to start living yours too, without anyone dictating how you should feel.

And thinking about this led you to where you were now, with your hands covered in clay – and probably not just your hands – trying to give some shape to that earthy mass on the spinning table in the studio.

Your mind wandered through all the possibilities of sculpture. Sculpting things your fingers had memorized or even inventing new forms to call conceptual. It would be ironic if your sculptures became famous.

Humming to yourself, your fingers gently moved over the clay's edges, shaping a small sphere; you pulled five points out and rounded the edges.

"They look like fingers." Merina's voice made you jump on the stool; Merina was one of the maids you had become close to, she had such a calm and gentle voice that, if you let her, could lull you to sleep.

"Well, I hope so. I'd be very upset if they looked like something else." You laughed, still molding your supposed fingers. Merina dragged a stool to join you, after, of course, looking down the hall to make sure no one was approaching.

She looked amazed at your hands giving life to the clay. Inevitably, her mind wandered, how? How were you capable? Feeling where your mind wandered, you chuckled softly and tilted your head in a silent invitation. Merina cleared her throat and asked:

"Why a hand?"

You subtly widened your eyes; that certainly wasn't the question you were expecting. A hum came from your throat before you answered Merina.

"It's with my hands that I see; they are my eyes to the world," you replied, licking your lips as you pondered, "I don't know how I manage it; I fear there's no logical explanation for it."

Merina didn't say anything, just grunted in response. Extending your hand, you searched the table until you found a small knife; bringing it close to the sculpture, you began making small fillets with it all along the hand's length.

Merina turned to you curiously, not understanding why you were deforming the piece. She gently nudged you with a – painfully pointed – question.

"Hmm, I've been thinking about it lately, hands with scars," you made one final cut and dropped the knife. Merina reached for an old cloth to help you clean your hands, "thank you. What would it be like to see with these hands? Would the texture of things be different? Or would the sensitivity be greater?" You rambled to her.

There were so many questions to consider, and in your opinion, you could already be considered a hands expert. That made you laugh.

Merina took the cloth from your hands and brought it toward your face, cleaning some clay splatters that had strayed there.

"I hope you don't have the answers on your own. It must be a horrible pain to have your hands torn apart." She commented, lowering the cloth.

A horrible pain? Makes sense. Whoever has hands like that must have a melancholic story behind them.

"You're right."

As promised, you lived your life the best way possible, and sculptures paved the way to your heart. Over time, your clay skills became refined, even daring to sculpt the features of your sisters; Nesta was your biggest supporter, even if she didn't admit it, there wasn't a day she didn't pass by to make sure your stock was full.

Each sister had their own shelf containing everything you thought resembled them. Elain had sculpted flowers and cakes, Nesta had books and red jewels, and Feyre had an arrow – just a sculpture, but it was the one you dedicated the most time to, whether smoothing the edges or trying to paint in the right places.

Because even though Feyre was a million miles away, you would love her all the way, and even if she never came back, you would find your way to her through the heart.

You wouldn't wait for her, but you wouldn't forget everything you had been through together.

And you might not even believe she would come back, but that tingling you felt in your fingers when you heard a knock on the door made you doubt your mental state.

It may be that besides being blind, you're also becoming deaf because hearing your sister's name from Elain's lips after so long is not a sign of good auditory nostalgia.

"Feyre?"

TAGLIST:

@dearestdaffodils @going-through-shit

@valeridarkness @wallacewillow0773638

@harrystylesfan2686 @carnationworld

@applerubyy @saltedcoffeescotch

@esposadomd @justdreamstars

@microwaveallthedemons

[jinxbich]

I just want to read my Azriel smut without seeing all this Elain vs Gwyn bs on my feed. Whoever he ends up with will be great. Mother SJM knows best. Good night.

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Prophecy (Lucien Vanserra x Rhys! Sister)/(Azriel x Rhys! Sister) Part 2

Part 1

AN: Wow I just want to say I have been so overwhelmed by the love part one got. Thank you for all the comments! I truly cherish each one!This part is a little short, because if I end up doing two different versions (a Lucien version and an Az version) this is where they will probably split off.

If you're new here check out my masterlist!

Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesn’t have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. It’s not wrong if both of your mates don’t want you right? 

Warnings: so much fluff, Angst, they be fightin'

Word count: 3485

“Are you sure you want to do this?  We can fully elope if you want to.” I whisper to Lucien as we stand in front of the double oak doors to my brother's office. 

At first I was confident that we had nothing to worry about. But now that I stood here, with only an ornate piece of wood separating us from the High Lord? The nerves had started settling in.

“I’m sure, an honorable male would ask your brother's permission before wedding you, and you deserve nothing but an honorable male.” he smiled, squeezing my left hand, the one his family ring currently found its home on. 

“But what if he says-” 

“Are you seriously doubting my silver tongue right now?” he smirked, cocking an eyebrow at me. “There’s a reason I was cursed to wear a fox mask for 50 years my darling.” 

“Believe me I know all about that silver tongue,” I laughed, nudging him with my shoulder as I recalled what that silver tongue did to me last night.  

“Shall we?” he asked, donning an unbothered face. 

“We shall,” I smiled before pushing open the doors. 

Inside the ostentatious study sat my brother, with his mate perched on his desk beside him with her back facing us. He broke his love sick gaze on her to see Lucien and I standing at the end of his desk. 

“Sister…Lucien, this is a surprise,” Rhys said, fixing some papers on his desk, as if to collect the thoughts swirling inside his head as well. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t knock, that was an oversight on our part,” I laughed thinking about the thousands of compromising positions we might’ve found them in. I silently thanked the cauldron for keeping that reality at bay. 

“I was hoping I could discuss something with you,” Lucien said regally. I was so taken back by his tone I couldn’t help but look up to him, his face was nothing short of the son of a High Lord. 

The air in the room stiffened as Feyre turned around to sit on the arm of Rhys chair, I suddenly felt like I was in a fishbowl. My brother and I had always been very close, I had shared everything in my life with him, there wasn’t a story of mine he didn’t know. But he didn’t know about Lucien, and I wasn’t sure how he would react to that. 

“Of course Lucien you can speak to us about anything,” Feyre smiled warmly,  placing her hand over Rhys’ as if to calm him down.

“With all due respect Feyre this is just between Rhysand and myself,” Lucien stated with the utmost respect, yet I still nudged his foot in warning. 

Rhys shifted in his seat a bit, placing his hand on Feyre’s hip, “Anything you have to say to me you can also say to my mate Vanserra.” 

This was not going according to plan. 

“Well, you see,” Lucien looked at me and I gave him a subtle nod to continue. “Y/n and I have been seeing each other for quite sometime now-” 

“And by seeing each other you mean?” Rhys interjected. 

Lucien cleared his throat, “We’re all adults here Rhysand I-” 

“You mean to tell me you’ve been fucking my sister?!” Rhys growled and I swear the mountains stirred in the distance. 

“Rhys calm down!” I shout but Feyre speaks up first. 

“How long has this been going on for?” Feyre asks, calmly. Her voice seemingly caused Rhys to lower his hackles. 

“Since Starfall,” Lucien answered truthfully. 

“Dammit I owe Cassian money,” she cursed looking at the door of the adjacent room. 

Rhys turned to look at his mate bewildered, “you had suspicions and you didn’t tell me?” he gasped. 

“Well Cassian thought they were going to hookup that starfall but I said there was no way,” Feyre said seemingly disappointed she lost a bet. 

“Guys?” I probe, turning both of their attentions back to us.

“What I’m trying to say is I admire your sister very much Rhysand, and I would like to ask for your permission for her hand in marriage,” Lucien said, giving my hand a squeeze. 

Feyre looked to Lucien, “But Elain is your mate?” she asks, confused. 

“And Azriel is yours y/n,” Rhys reminded me. 

“Come on Rhys, it’s been 400 years. If the bond was going to snap it would’ve happened by now. Azriel doesn’t want me.” I say honestly, and for the first time, the words don’t sting as much as they normally do. 

Lucien picks up my train of thought, “And Elain has made it perfectly clear that she wants nothing to do with me.” he says to Feyre, who gives him an apologetic glance.

I look over to see Lu smiling down at me, “We’ve been spending a lot of time together, and we get along well. I’m at my happiest when I’m with him,” I smile back at him before turning to my brother and Feyre once more. “Lucien is a good male, he’s kind and he takes care of me. I think we could make eachother really happy.” 

Lucien tugs on my hand to bring my attention back to him, “And y/n is a beautiful, smart, and charming woman. Any male would be lucky to call her his wife, including me.” his lips curl upward, and I can’t tear my gaze away from him. 

I had begged the Cauldron all my life to bring someone into my life who would choose me. I used to think that person was Azriel, but after all my years of flirting with him and trying to get the bond to snap I was only ever met with nothing. Yet here Lucien was, standing in my brother's office, saying I choose you. 

Feyre’s voice broke my train of thought and pulled both of our attentions, “Aww, Rhys they're so sweet,” she beamed grasping onto my brother's arm. 

Just like I had prophesied, I saw my brother's hard exterior melting under the ‘ooos’ and ‘ahhhs’ of his beloved High Lady. He stood from his desk and I felt Lu tense beside me as we both waited with bated breath for what the High Lord was going to say next. 

“Lucien Vanserra,” he said, holding out his hand. “Welcome to the family.” 

The tension in the air dissipated as everyone in the room smiled, Feyre was practically jumping for joy. Lucien gave Rhys a firm handshake over his desk and I could see that while the proposal was unexpected for my brother, he wasn’t unhappy. He knew just as well as I did that Lucien was a good male, that he would be good to me. 

“Oh we need to start shopping for dresses right now! I’ll grab Mor and Nesta and we can go out! We’re going to need a cake too!” Feyre squealed, hugging me tightly. 

“Uhh that’s the other thing,” I said hesitantly, not wanting to step on my sister-in-law's happiness. “We didn’t want a big wedding.” 

“We actually wanted to elope, and we want you two to be our witnesses.” Lucien picked up my sentence.

“Oh of course we will,” Feyre smiled looking at both of us before wrapping her arm around Rhys. 

Rhys looked more troubled than he did moments ago, like the idea of an elopement didn’t sit right with him. However if he did feel that way, he didn’t voice it. Not when the idea seemed to excite Feyre so. 

“When is the date?” Feyre inquired. 

I looked to Lucien who was already looking to me for an answer. We had never given the date a thought. I shrugged my shoulders at him, hoping he might take the lead. His eyes twinkled with mischief, it was that same look he gave me before he did something like wipe whipped cream on my nose or use his flames to singe my bum as he slapped it.

“The day after tomorrow,” he said with certainty. 

“The day after tomorrow?” the whole room gawked. 

Lu turned back to me, “Yes. We’ve never been conventional, why start now,” he gushed giddy with infectious excitement. 

I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face, “Okay,” I giggled. “the day after tomorrow.”

He leaned down to scoop me up in his arms spinning me around the room, Feyre’s laughter and my own bouncing off the ornate wood paneled walls. 

“But what will you wear?” Feyre asked, seemingly trying to figure out something in her head already. 

I pondered the idea myself before it hit me like a ton of bricks, “Oh I can wear mothers dress!” I exclaimed looking at Rhys.

“I’m sure that’s what she would’ve wanted,” Rhys smiled, tossing his arm around his excited wife. 

We parted ways with the promise of seeing them later this evening at family dinner. An event I typically despised, but now? Things didn’t seem so dull. I was walking in with my fiance, instead of alone. 

Lucien and I ran down the hallways hand in hand, laughing like teenagers getting away with sneaking out. 

“I can’t believe I just did that,” he laughed, backing me against a wall. 

“Did what?” I ask, out of breath from running. 

He leaned in close to my ear, “Told your brother how thoroughly I’ve been fucking you,” he smirks pressing a kiss beneath my ear. 

“Well you didn’t use language that graphic,” I snicker while playing with the ends of his hair. 

He pulls his head back from my neck to give me that mischievous look again, “I can always go back in there and tell him,” he teases. 

“Or…” I say low in his ear, “you could just show me.” I say suggestively. 

Lu’s lips curl upward brushing against the shell of my ear, “You little minx!” he growls hoisting me up, earning a squeal from me. 

“You are beautiful and amazing and charming and you are going to be my wife,” he gushes, placing a kiss on my lips for every tender word. 

Lu smiles at me before titling my chin up to meet his lips, the kiss warm and sweet. His hands pull my waist closer to him, and I bring my own from his chest to loop around his neck. He presses his forehead. 

This was the start of a new chapter, one where I was somebody’s first choice. One where I was chosen and loved. One where I didn’t come home to an empty home, or show up to solstice parties without a date. One where I had someone to kill the spiders in the house for me, one where I was chosen. 

As Lucien held me close to him, I could sense he felt all the same things too. It was a new start for both of us. A chance to be happy. 

That evening after much celebration from Lucien and I that involved some time between the sheets…and the shower… and the living room floor…we finally dressed for dinner. 

Dinner with the family was typically a laid back affair, it was the one time a week we could all see one another. Rhys would even make sure no one had any assignments during that time so that there were no interferences. My dress was nice yet laid back, nothing like what I would wear for starfall or a ball. 

Lucien came up behind me as I put on my earrings in the stand up mirror.

“You look lovely, my wife looks lovely,” he said, taking the earring back from my hand to place it on himself. Kissing my bare shoulder in the process. 

“I’m not your wife yet,” I smile, turning in his arms. 

“Maybe so but you’re going to be,” he reminds me, kissing my nose. 

“The day after tomorrow,” I say 

“The day after tomorrow,” he repeats back. “Now let’s go before our tardiness causes your brother to call off the wedding.” 

I laugh taking his hand and walking down the townhouse steps into the brisk night air. I checked to see that I had moved my impromptu engagement ring to my right hand before we got too far away. While I was excited about marrying Lu it was important to me that the wedding stay an elopement.  I wasn’t sure how the rest of the family would react. Despite our good humor and book swapping, Nesta may choose to rip off my head for taking her sister’s mate and who knew how Cassian might feel about me marrying a Vanserra, even if it was Lucien. 

As Lu held open the gate to the townhouse for me, the same way he did on starfall a year ago. I was sure that I had made the right choice. Not just in my future life partner, but in keeping the engagement secret for just a few days more. 

The family gathered around the table, each one of them placing a dish in the center to be shared. During dinners we didn’t like to have the maids do all the work, per the request of the Archeron sisters. They said it felt more homey if we all pitched in on the work and they were right. Lu and I parted ways and I gave Feyre and Nesta a warm hug before continuing to set the table. It seemed everyone was in high spirits as even when I passed by Rhys to lay down the potatoes he gave me a kiss on the forehead. 

Maybe everyone was in a good mood for once, or maybe things just seemed lighter because I didn’t walk in here by myself tonight. 

Dinner moved quickly, and Lucien sat next to me as he normally did, both of us thick as thieves kicking each other's feet all night. It was impossible to keep such a happy secret from the family, but it was also insanely fun. Every now and then I caught a knowing glance from Rhys or Feyre. But whenever Rhys looked at me his next glance was always to Azriel, who didn’t seem to suspect a thing.

When the meal was over we all took our goblets of wine and moved to the living room to drink, laugh and tell war stories, as we always did. Normally this was when I would make some half-assed excuse as to why I had to leave. The last thing I wanted to see was a bunch of mated couples all over each other. My heart still panged as Elain chose to sit on the arm of Azriel’s chair, but it was lightened by the brush of Lucien’s fingers against the back of my head as he went to sit across the room next to Rhys and Feyre. 

It wasn’t until Cassian started talking about going to war with the Valkyries for the one millionth time that I decided that I definitely needed more wine for this story. So I stood and marched my way into the kitchen with the promise of bringing back a couple bottles for everyone. 

The walk-in wine cellar in the kitchen was cold, so when I turned around with two bottles in hand and bumped into a very warm chest I nearly yelped. 

“Shhh it’s just me,” Lucien grinned, taking the two bottles from my hand to place on the counter beside us. 

“Lu you scared the shit out of me,” I say in a hushed tone as he hoists me onto the countertop. 

“I’m tired of watching them all cuddle up to one another in there, I want to cuddle up to you as well,” he smirked, placing kisses all over my neck. 

“Down boy,” I giggle, acting like I don’t feel the exact same way. I feel his lips curl against my skin as I run my hands through his hair.

“This is only going to get worse once you’re my wife,” he smiles, placing a slow kiss on my lips. 

“WIFE?!” 

I whip my head around from where I’m sitting on the counter to see Azriel standing in the doorway, a look of pure betrayal written all over his face. Lucien’s hands found my waist pulling me off the counter so that my feet were firmly on the floor. 

“You’re marrying him?!” Azriel shouts again and suddenly a smaller figure appears behind him, swathed in light pink and roses. 

“He’s my mate you can’t just take him,” Elain exclaims, seemingly coming into her own. 

I immediately see red at her words, completely disregarding Azriel in the room. Elain who wouldn’t give Lucien the time of day. Elain who knowingly entered an unethical relationship with Azriel and flaunted it. Elain who barely glanced at the pearl earrings Lucien had bought her for solstice. She had the gall to claim him, after the way she treated him.   

“Take him?” I scoff. “You don’t even want him.” I shout back, the words coming off a little harsher than expected. 

“She’s right y/n, Lucien is her mate,” Azriel interjected looking down at me, as if this situation didn’t benefit him in every way. Gods he would just do anything to make that girl happy. 

“That’s deft coming from you shadowsinger,”  Lucien snickered disdainfully, cocking his head at the spymaster. 

Azriel bristled, “What's that supposed to mean?” he snarled. 

I put a hand on Lucien’s chest to get him to back down, “It doesn’t matter, we’re happy. Is it really your mission to make everyone in this court miserable but yourself Elain?”

“HEY!” Azriel barked, taking a step towards me, his shadows rising behind him. 

Before he can get a step closer Lucien grabs his arm, “Easy,” he hissed, but Azriel’s eyes didn’t leave my scared form. 

Never in my life had Azriel raised his voice at me in such a manner. While I wanted to say I was unphased, the outburst had scared me.  As soon as he noticed my reaction to his behavior, a realization seemed to dawn on him, and he quickly stepped back.

“You’re taking my mate, was there a way I was supposed to react?” Elain sneered just as snarky as ever, as if this was just a cat fight among the females. 

The red I saw turned to crimson as I realized once more what she was doing. She didn’t want Lucien because she loved him. She wanted him because she felt entitled to him, she wanted both of them. My mate and hers. 

“You take my mate, I’ll take yours!” I seethed the words spilling out of me like venom, unstoppable and poisonous to those in the room. 

Elain’s eyes widened and I realized that the secret that I had kept for 400 years had finally come out. My stomach dropped and my blood ran cold, the world around me fading away as I discerned what I had done.  

“What did you just say?” Azriel said in disbelief, my eyes flitted over to his. 

Anger and hurt flashed in his golden eyes. I didn’t know what to say. Couldn’t know what to say. I had never prepared for this. 

“Azriel I-” 

“I’m your mate?!” he sneered, his voice tinged with malice.

 I felt a scarred hand grip my upper arm as if to winnow me away but Lucien was on Azriel in an instant gripping his arm right back. 

“Get your hands off my wife,” he growled, raising his own metaphorical hackles. 

“By the looks of it she’s not your wife yet. But apparently she’s my mate so I will handle her however I please,” Azriel said, getting up in Lu’s face, but to Lucien’s credit he didn’t back down.

It was as if after 400 years the bond snapped for Az. And every urge that came with that bond had snapped in place with it. The worst part of it all was that I didn’t know how to feel.   

“That may be true but I won’t allow you to touch her in anger,” Lucien stated glowering at the shadowsinger. 

Elain and I remained speechless and unmoving as Rhysand slid into the kitchen eyes ablaze at the scene before him. 

“What the fuck is going on?” he bellowed as he saw Azriel gripping me and Lucien gripping him. 

“It seems that Lucien has decided to wed my mate,” Azriel said with a smooth calm that sounded more like a warning shot. 

“You treat her as if she was-” Lucien snarled back before Rhys cut him off. 

“That’s enough!” he shouted and it was enough for both males to let go. “All of you get out of my sight and simmer down. We can talk about this when you can behave like adults!”

I think to protest my brother's orders, but he shoots me a glare so cold, so unyielding that I find myself sinking into Lucien’s embrace. I look to Azriel who wears his disappointment in me unnervingly well before winnowing both Lucien and I back home. 

to be continued...

Part 3

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202, @batboyrhyrhy 

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[velarisnightsky444]

ACOTAR MASTERLIST

❤️‍🔥smut 🩵fluff 🖤angst 🩶series 🤍this song reminds me of them 🤎playlist

poly/ship acotar masterlist

kink/fluff/angstober 2024 masterlist

����Stargirl (ao3 || wattpad) ❤️‍🔥NSFW Alphabet ❤️‍🔥So Close ❤️‍🔥Mating Frenzy ❤️‍🔥Accepting the Bond ❤️‍🔥You're Mine ❤️‍🔥Patience 🖤Spoiled Little Princess 🩵The First Taste 🩵Angel of Music

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

❤️‍🔥The Mess You Caused ❤️‍🔥NSFW Alphabet 🩵My Love

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

🩶Dark Paradise (ao3 || wattpad) ❤️‍🔥Look at Yourself ❤️‍🔥Get Yourself Off ❤️‍🔥NSFW Alphabet 🖤Afterglow 🩵Clipped Wings 🩵Rain Makes Everything Better 🤎Nesta’s Playlist

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

❤️‍🔥The Headboard ❤️‍🔥Open Wide ❤️‍🔥NSFW Alphabet 🖤The 1 🖤Breathe 🩵Safe 🤍Come Back

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

❤️‍🔥Good Girl ❤️‍🔥NSFW Alphabet 🤍Youre Losing Me

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

🩶Scorched Shadows ❤️‍🔥Little Fawn ❤️‍🔥NSFW Alphabet(upcoming)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

❤️‍🔥Pretty Little Thing ❤️‍🔥NSFW Alphabet(upcoming) 🩵Sugar

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

❤️‍🔥Greedy Little Fox ❤️‍🔥Love ❤️‍🔥NSFW Alphabet(upcoming) 🖤Insufferable

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

🩶How to Disappear(wattpad || ao3) ❤️‍🔥Stay Still ❤️‍🔥The Birchin ❤️‍🔥NSFW Alphabet(upcoming) 🩵Welcome 🩵Moon River 🖤The Worst Pain 🤍Vampire

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

headcanons -what music the archeron sisters would listen to

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

random -my acotar ocs as taylor swift songs -the courts as eras

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

all my playlists based on fiction

🤎brokeback mountain 🤎dead poets society 🤎elizabeth and darcy 🤎euphoria vibes 🤎evelyn hugo 🤎everlark 🤎feysand 🤎gilmore girls 🤎jennifers body vibes 🤎jurdan 🤎little women 🤎nesta archeron 🤎pretty little liars 🤎thirteen vibes 🤎throne of glass 🤎twilight 🤎virgin suicides vibes 🤎warnette 🤎xoxo -gossip girl