#Lucien could make Elain come ten ways to Sunday

[bookofmirth]

Do you have an official source of SJM stating elain and Azriel have a sibling-like relationship?!

I saw someone say this a few days ago but I can’t find an official source anywhere.

I wish! It’s something we heard back around the time that acowar came out (2017), i think during an event, but never thought to keep proof of because we didn’t think we needed to. I contend that canon never led to Arin and Eerica being an actual possibility (an author who loves mates and mated Elain and Lucien? That’s all we need to know) but now in retrospect I wish we had kept that one extra piece of evidence because YIKES

[rhysismydaddy]

Naughty Neighbors pt. 3 (Elriel)

I think I might’ve actually died writing the first part of this not going to lie. Also don’t come for me changing the verb tense I’m well aware lol 

Coming next week...

“I’m not taking you to bed while you belong to another man, Elain.”

“I don’t belong to anyone.”

“Maybe not your body,” he agrees, placing a wide hand on her chest, right above her heart. “But I want this to be mine. And you’re going to give it to me.”

______________________________________________________________

~Elain~

It’s Saturday night, the first day of what’s shaping up to be a truly unremarkable weekend for Elain. Feyre’s art show’s tomorrow, but that’s the most exciting thing she has planned. 

She can’t remember the last time she’d been excited about something even was, actually. 

Pushing that uncomfortable thought away, she settles further in the bath and sighs. Desperate for entertainment, she tries to focus on the pages of the book in front of her, but her brain won’t cooperate. 

After another ten minutes, she resigns herself to an early night and gets out of the tub, slipping into one of her robes. 

It’s only eleven, but she gets in bed, forgotten book on her night table. Closing her eyes proves she is actually a little tired, because she starts to relax and drift off to sleep. 

But then she hears it.

A low groan sounds through the wall between her apartment and her neighbor’s, and her eyes go wide. She hears two people talk, then a feminine laugh. Which turns into a loud moan a second later.

Oh. My. Gods.

There’s a thud, then sexy, masculine laughter meets her ears.

Some shuffling sounds make Elain bury her head under her pillow,, the blush on her cheeks hot enough to melt the sheets away. This is so horrible.

But no amount of pillows could stop her from hearing what happens next.

The feminine moaning gets louder, then is joined by a loud banging directly on her wall. Was that his... headboard?

Good heavens above, he’s really going for it over there. 

There’s a pause, then the banging gets even more intense. The woman’s moaning is closer now, and she realizes with a start what’s happening. They’d moved against the wall. Her wall.

Oh, he's dead.

She’ll kill him herself if she had to for subjecting her to this. 

Except that’s not exactly what she feels like doing as she hears the asshole practically growl, “Fuck, baby.”

~Azriel~

Mor slaps my chest, giving me a strange look. “Fuck, baby?” she whispers incredulously. “That’s what you say when you get laid?.”

I just roll my eyes and mutter, “Shut up.”

“That’s the most embarrassing, male thing you could ever say. But keep going. The point is to prove you have better stamina, and we’ve only been at this for ten minutes.”

Barely repressing laughter, I wrap her jean-clad legs tighter around my waist and keep moving against her.

When she lets out another ridiculously loud moan, I say quietly, “This is so fucking stupid.”

“I agree, but I’m not the one whose whipped.”

In case it isn’t obvious, I really, really regret telling her about Elain.

As soon as she’d heard about Lucien “Shit in the Sack” Vanserra, Mor had been determined to help.

She’s my absolute best friend, the one who knows every sordid detail about my life, and tonight she’s made it her mission in life to help make Elain jealous.

She’s also a lesbian.

“So this is doing nothing for you?” I ask with a frown. I mean, if we were naked, this would be some of my best work.

She gives me a flat look, even as I continue fake-fucking her against the wall. “Not unless you change your name to Azriella and grow a huge pair of-”

“Okay, I get it. Laugh like I said something funny.”

Rolling her eyes, she does, and I force myself to huff a chuckle, too.

Gods, she’s right. I’m whipped. And definitely deranged. For a chick who isn’t even sleeping with me.

If my friends knew, they’d never shut up about it. Mor was the only one I’d told, and that was because she knows how it feels to have feelings for someone and not be able to do anything about it.

Plus, I’d been her fake boyfriend for years in high school before she came out to her parents, so she owes me.

Mor checks her watch and raises her eyebrows. “It’s been fifteen minutes. How long do you usually last?”

It’s my turn to glare. “Did you seriously just ask me that?”

“I’m just saying, I have a date in an hour.” 

She groans, so I wait until that stops and ask, “With who?”

“That really pretty barista I told you about, so I don’t want to be late. Five more minutes seems good.” I nod, because it’s nice she’s doing this in the first place. “Make em count, champ.”

I think I’m going to kill her one day. 

But I do. 

And by the end, we’re both breathing hard and have made enough noise to wake the whole building. After a very obnoxious climax, I let Mor down. “You realize if she does ever have sex with you you’re going to have to-”

“It won’t be a problem,” I assure her, one-hundred percent confident in that fact. 

She gives me a disbelieving look but just shakes her head and ruffles her hair. Once at the door, she turns and whispers, “She’s going to look out the peep hole, so I’m going to kiss the shit out of you.”

With that, my best friend swings the door open, turns around, and puts on an expression I’ve never seen before. It’s desire and satisfaction and something else entirely I don’t want to read in to. It’s disgusting. 

But I act like the “champ” I am and don’t react, even as she pulls my face down to hers and kisses me. 

Her nails rake down my bare back, and even though this does absolutely nothing for me, I wrap my arms around her and lift her clear off her feet to bring her closer.

Don’t get me wrong, Mor’s beautiful and all, but she’s my best friend, and this is giving me flashbacks to homecoming and prom and every other time we had to put on an act.  

How long till this is over, exactly?

~Elain~

Watching him kiss that woman... Elain can admit it does strange things to her. Like makes her want to storm out and yank them apart, then scream. 

She somehow refraines. 

He finally lets her down, and the rage and frustration builds to an insurmountable level because she’s freaking gorgeous. The kind of gorgeous where Elain was tempted to go kiss her herself. 

How annoying. 

Turning on her heel, she stomps back over to her bed and flops down. 

She’s hot and cold and her core is so tight it's almost painful. 

Never, not once in her entire life, had she thought she’d be turned on hearing something like that. 

But picturing him... doing that, and so close to her own bed... yeah. She’d almost come herself, and she was in a completely different room. 

Gods, she’s pathetic. 

And she can absolutely never see him again. 

That’s beyond obvious.

Terrible liar she is, she knows it would be all over her face. What would she even say? Oh, hey neighbor. Heard you really give that woman a good time last night. So good, in fact, you almost got both of us off. High-five!

Nope. She’d rather move across town before running in to him again. 

Even though the thought makes her strangely sad. 

She falls asleep soon after, mind going back over every tiny detail she’d heard tonight until she’s surprised she can sleep at all. 

~Azriel~

It’s Sunday morning, meaning I don’t have to work. Meaning I don’t have an excuse to see Elain. 

But fuck do I want to. 

I can’t hardly wait for the blush I know will pop up on her cheeks. I probably won’t have to even speak for it to happen. There’s no way she didn’t hear the amazing fake sex I had last night. She probably won’t even be able to look me in the eyes. 

So I wait until I hear her get up and start shuffling around in her apartment. 

Then, like the creep I am, I sit on the couch and wait for her door to open so I can go out and tease her until she slaps me or something. 

But it doesn’t. I sit there until it’s four in the afternoon, and that’s when it dawns. 

She told me herself she checks her garden on Sundays--a fact she knows I know--so the only reason she wouldn’t go... 

She’s trying to avoid me.

A laugh bursts out of me. 

Oh, Elain. Baby girl, that just won’t do. 

I grab my laptop and look up the MOMA exhibits for this weekend, a probably-evil smile already blooming on my face. 

~Elain~

Should I go out the window? 

No, I live on the third floor. 

But... 

After looking at the drop down, she decides that’s definitely not happening. She’ll have to go the normal way. Which means she’ll have to walk by the door next to hers. Which belongs to him. 

Gods, she was sweating already. 

Which isn’t good, since the silk of her dress will definitely show it. Forcing herself to calm down, she grabs her clutch and slowly, quietly, opens the door. 

Empty. 

Before that can change, she hurtles down the hallway and stairs, breathing a sigh of relief when she steps outside. 

It turns into a strangled gasp as she looks up from the cement. 

Her neighbor’s standing in front of her, looking dark and alluring and inexplicably handsome in the twilight sky. 

But that’s not why her breath goes a little shallow. 

The dark jeans, boots, and t-shirts he’s worn every time she’s seen him have now been replaced with a black suit, crisply cut to his tall frame. 

He looks so handsome she can hardly remember she’s supposed to be avoiding him. 

But then the why of that statement comes rushing back, and her cheeks go pink. He looks pleased at that, even as his darkening eyes roam over her frame. 

Her dress is floor-length, but the spaghetti straps and low back make it revealing. That, and the fact that the silk fabric clings to every dip and curve of her figure. 

His eyes notice it all, all the way down to her heel-clad feet and back up to her softly curled hair. 

“Elain.”

It’s just one word, and it’s one she knows well, but it’s somehow everything. 

Now more than ever, she wished she knew his name. It usually seems like a little game, but now it feels like a whole in her chest. She wants to know him. 

Wants to know how to say his name in a way that makes him feel like she feels right now. 

“You look beautiful,” he comments, sliding his hands in the pockets of that damn suit. 

“Thank you. You look nice, too.” Nice? More like devastating. He just shrugs. “Hot date?”

A small smile graces his full lips. “No, that was last night.”

“I’m aware,” she bites out, face starting to heat. Her body’s reliving last night, and she has to force herself not to press her legs together. 

“Just wanted you to know how it’s supposed to be done.”

“How considerate.” 

He steps close, so close they’re sharing air. “Did it bother you, listening to me with another woman?”

She sure as hell can’t tell him the truth, so she says breathlessly, “Not unless you count the nausea.” 

Damn him for turning her into a liar. And damn him for smelling so good.

There’s an arm around her waist, a hand on her hip. He’s so close now that his lips brush her ear as he whispers, “Did it turn you on?”

A whimper escapes her lips, so she bites one to keep herself quiet as she shakes her head no. 

“Elain, you are such a little liar,” he scolds, pulling away to smirk at her. “You’re blushing.” A finger runs down her cheek. She bats it away. 

“We should get going,” he observes, checking his watch. 

That gets her attention. “What?”

His lips twitch as he says, “The MOMA exhibit is tonight, right?”

“Yes, but-”

“Well, we should go then.”

Oh, gods above. He’s planning on attending? With her? 

This is a terrible idea. But one look at his devilish smile tells her there’s no changing his mind. So she sighs and says, “We’ll have to get a cab. It’s across the city.”

“I’ll just drive, then,” he says, throwing her completely off guard once again. 

“Wait a second. You have a car?”

He looks amused as he takes her hand and pulls her down the street to where a dark, expensive looking SUV is parked. “I do.”

“Then why do you walk to work?”

Opening the passenger door, he turns to look her in the eyes again. “Well, you know what they say. Best way to start the day...” is a quick lay, she finishes in her mind, cheeks going pink. “-is to see a friend.”

Oh, he’s such an unbearable asshole. 

She ignores the little smile he gives her and climbs in the car, and soon they’re off. For a minute it’s silent, but then she asks quietly, “Why are you coming tonight?”

“I wanted to see you. And I’ve never been to a museum. Figured I’d have the best guide this way.” 

Reasonable enough, she supposes. Even if the way he looked at her earlier told her seeing a museum had nothing to do with art. 

She doesn’t have enough time to contemplate it, though, because he pulls up in front of the MOMA and parks, then they’re heading inside. She’s happy to see there’s quite a few people here, something she knows her sister will appreciate, too. 

Said sister rushes over immediately and smiles. “You made it!”

“Of course I did.” When she eyes the man next to her, she says awkwardly, “Um, Feyre, this is... my neighbor.”

She really has to find out his name. 

“Nice to meet you,” he says, extending a hand. “It looks like a good turnout.”

It was the right thing to say apparently, because Feyre beams. “I know! Hopefully they’ll all sell. There’s a surprise in there for you, Elain.”

Oh, gods. That usually meant something bad. Like being the subject to her sister’s very comprehensive photography exhibit three years ago.

“Anyway, you guys look around and have fun. There’s champagne in the back. Thanks for coming!” 

Elain hugs her sister tightly before she can disappear. “I’m proud of you. This is great.”

Feyre rolls her eyes as she pulls back, but they’re a little misty. “Oh, shut up or you’ll make me cry.”

Then she kisses Elain’s cheek and turns to talk to more people coming in. 

“Champagne?”

Turning to the man next to her, she smiles and nods. That sounds like an excellent idea right about now. He disappears, so she ventures to the first room. 

It’s all landscapes, beautiful paintings of mountains and the night sky and beautiful pictures of nature. She’s standing in front of one, smiling, when he comes back. “That’s your garden, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she says softly, staring at the piece in front of her with new eyes. The night they’d first met creeps into her mind, and she sees him in the painting, lounging on that cute little bench, cigarette dangling seductively from his lips. 

“You look sad.” His voice is quiet and soft, and she turns to meet his gaze. 

She has to look away, though, because he’s right. She is sad. 

Thinking about that night makes her think about what could’ve happened. How different this last week could’ve been. 

But she can’t tell him any of that, so she just turns to walk to the next room. The man next to her pauses, and she sees why as soon as her gaze goes to the wall. 

Roses, carnations, lilies. 

Tulips, orchids, peonies. 

All her favorite flowers are on the wall, the paint blending together and creating the most beautiful collage she’s ever seen. They’re all over the wall--there has to be at least fifty paintings in here. 

And in the middle of them all is the front of her shop. 

It’s an almost perfect rendition to the door of The Archeron, with the glass walls and flowers almost bursting out. 

The whole room’s been designed to look like the inside of her shop. 

A tear escapes down her cheek as she looks at the art around her. Gratitude, love, and happiness almost erupt from her, and she notices something. 

The man next to her notices it at the same time. “You feel something.”

“Yeah,” she replies happily. “I do.”

He smiles, and it’s not one of his usual little grins or smirks. It’s a full smile, showcasing all his perfect teeth. “So do I.”

The voice inside her head tells her he isn’t talking about the paintings. 

And for a minute, Elain just stands there, flowers blurring in her peripheral as she stares at him. 

“Please tell me your name,” she whispers. 

He smiles again, taking a step towards her. And it’s just as he’s leaning down that he opens his mouth and-

“Elain!” Feyre bursts into the room with a wide grin. “What do you think?”

She practically jumps a mile in the air, but she recovers quickly and says honestly, “I love it. Thank you so much. It’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Excuse me,” her neighbor says in a low voice, eyes on something in the distance as he heads to the front of the store. 

Feyre watches him go, and as soon as he’s out of earshot says, “Okay, now that he’s gone, can you tell me what’s going on? Did you and Lucien break up?”

Elain notices her sister doesn’t exactly sound sad at that prospect. “No, why would you think that?”

“Because you came here with him, and he looks like a villanous-”

“Prince Charming? That’s what I said!”

They laugh, but then Feyre smiles knowingly and asks, “You know he’s in love with you, right?”

The words clear a path through her chest, even as the heart inside swells. She suddenly can’t breathe, can’t form a normal thought. That’s... impossible. 

“What? How do you know?”

“Because he just went to buy that painting,” she says softly, motioning to The Archeron’s door. 

She shakes her head. “No, he didn’t.”

Feyre smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Yes, he did.”

“Oh, gods,” Elain whispers, pulse starting to race. 

“You like him, too. It’s obvious to anyone who isn’t you.” Feyre flicks her nose playfully. “So stop thinking so hard. Just do what makes you happy.”

They say goodbye, and Elain turns to leave, finding him by the entrance. They walk outside in silence, then ride home in silence. 

Something’s different between them, and it’s created a tangible tension in the air that makes it hard for her to breathe. 

It’s only when they’re in the hallway outside their doors that she quietly asks, “Did you buy that painting?”

His body goes a bit tense, but he looks at her and answers, “Yes.”

“Why?”

“I told you.” His eyes are warm, like chocolate and caramel and smoke. And they’re looking at her like she’s everything to him as he says, “I felt something.”

“Liar,” she accuses, stealing his line.

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t say anything, so they continue to stare at each other. She knows him so well already, but there’s one thing she’s still dying to figure out.

Just as she’s about to ask, he murmurs, “My name’s Azriel.”

She tells herself it’s the deal, the arrangement. She tells herself it doesn’t matter. She tells herself she’s just paying the price. 

Elain tells herself all sorts of little lies as she steps forward, takes his face in her hands, and presses her lips to his. 

______________________________________________________________

Wrote this in one setting sorry if it’s shit. Part 4

@wineywitch202 @astreia-oniria @keshavomit @zukos-simp @whimsyrhys @lameomclameo @thedarkdemigod @captainthefangirlofhp @elriel4life @queen-of-glass @courtofjurdan @nessiantho @texas-shaped-waffle-maker @stardelia @myshadowsingeraz @tswaney17 @illyriangarbage @nicerhero @fancycrowncat @sjmships @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @superspiritfestival @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @a-bit-of-a-cactus @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @poisonous00 @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @afifthofvodka @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[secretlynestaarcheron]

Four - Feyre and the F*** boi and the not so F*** boi

Feyre stood outside of Inner Court Rink, wrapping her black jacket tighter around her as she shifted her weight trying to fight the cold. She smiles softly as she sees the bus pull up, she glances over at Elain who was wrapped up nicely in a winter coat and hat sitting on the bench her nose in a botany book.

She had to promise to cook dinner tonight to get Elain to drive her here, even though she was eighteen in a month her father wasn’t sober enough to teach her how to drive and she didn’t have anyone else. “I’ll be right back,” she says to Elain who nods in response not really paying attention to her.

She runs over to the side of the bus, unzipping her jacket to show off the green and gold Spring Court shirt she was wearing, Tamlin comes off first smiling and laughing at something when he spots Feyre in the crowd. He smirks looking her up and down before walking towards her, “Couldn’t get enough of me at the party?”

“I think our time was interrupted,” Feyre says, her hands in her back pocket as she shrugs, “Wanna celebrate after the win Sunday?”

He cocks an eyebrow chuckling to himself, “I don’t think your sister would be so thrilled about that.”

She reaches forward grabbing his forearm as he moves to turn away, “She’ll be too busy picking up the pieces of that guy on the porch with her, she won’t even notice,” she says in a pleading manner that even she is a little embarrassed about.

He looks down at her, “We’ll see how I am feeling after the game, you know how ladies get when they see a winner. I’ll have a line of girls wanting me, an experienced girl.”

She swallows the lump in her throat, her cheeks a tint of red from embarrassment, as she watches Tamlin walk into the rink with his teammates behind him. She reaches up to fix a strand of hair, looking around to make sure there was no one there to see her rejection before walking back to her sister.

“You weren’t gone long,” Elain says, turning the page, not realizing how much that stinged her. “Did you get what you wanted, can we go home now? I am freezing.”

Feyre bites her lip, watching the group of guys make their way into the rink. “I actually think I’ll stay, I catch a ride home with Nesta,” she says not waiting for a response before running into the rink. She freezes when she sees her sister leading against the wall chatting with Amren, bypassing her quickly she makes her way up the bleachers to watch Tamlin practice.

She wrapped her arms around herself glancing at her watch, she had already been sitting here for an hour and they didn’t seem to be ending soon. She wanted to talk to Tamlin but she also did not want to walk home in the dark.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” she turns to see the dark haired boy from the party, the bleacher creaked as he sat down next to her. He glances down at who is practicing on the ice, “Ah, you from Autumn Court?”

She wonders if she should pretend, she could pull off being a rich snude from Autumn Court but his soft blue eyes that looked like they had a mixture of violet around the edge looked at her like no has looked at her before, “No, I am from Night Court,” she says, “Sorry, I ditched but my sister found I was there.”

He leans back on the bench behind them, “Why would your sister be mad that you’re at a party?”

She knows she really should shut her mouth now, but something about him makes me want to talk to him, “I am a senior in highschool, my sister is a sophomore here, she found out I was there talking to a junior and freaked out,” she says, side glancing him to see his reaction, she knew he wouldn’t have the same opinion as Tamlin towards her age.

“Ah, the dreaded older sibling, I don’t have one but my cousin is a couple months older than me and she pulls the older card all the time,” he replies, with a slight shrug. “When do you turn eighteen?”

“This summer, so it’s not like that far off,” she says. “My mom passes away and my dad is hardly there so my sister pulls the parent card, I know she means well but-,”

“You still wanna live,” he nods in understanding, “I understand the dreaded birthday, I don’t turn nineteen until the summer, always the youngest in the grade, that and the fact I skipped kindergarten.”

She chuckles, turning towards him and away from where her eyes had been glued onto Tamlin’s jersey. “How smart do you have to skip kindergarten? Already knew your ABC’s and how to count to 20?”

He scoffs looking away before turning towards her, “If you must know, I had a personal tutor when I was four so I wouldn’t have to go to kindergarten, Lucien from Spring Courts parents were doing it so I had to do it.”

She laughs, “A personal tutor for a four year old, wow you really must be loaded.”

“Well when your dad is mayor, you become a big deal, I am shocked that you didn’t recognize me right away,” he replies with a smile. She shakes her head, looking back towards the ice where the team was stepping off the ice. “You have to go?”

He sounds disappointed but she nods as she turns towards him, “Yeah, sorry,” she says, “It was great catching up with you, sorry again for ditching you last night at that party.” She moves down the bleachers and heads out to the lounge where she spots her sister chatting with a couple other figure skaters waiting to head onto the ice.

She moves passes them quickly, hanging out by the boys locker room door, messing around on her phone as she tries to not look desperate. She can’t help but look up every time the door swings open, her smile falling every time it’s not Tamlin.

She moves to the couches, falling down on them continuing to look up at the door swings open and players make their way to the bus. She glances at her watch after ten minutes of no one coming out, she wonders if the bus already left and she had missed him when a nearby door opens and Tamlin stumbles out, his arm wrapped around her waist.

He whispers something in her ear as she laughs, moving towards the rink while he walks out of the building. She follows him with her eyes until he’s out of the building. She falls back, looking up at the ceiling, tears threatening to fall.

She pulls herself up, zipping up her coat and leaving the building, the bus long gone. She frowns as she begins to walk down the sidewalk, Elain would surely kill her and Nesta too if she ever found out. “Hey! Are you walking home?”

She turns to see Rhysand, leaning against his car as he looks at her concerned. She shrugs, “Yeah,” she says, turning slowly, not really wanting to talk to anyone anymore after being so humiliated by Tamlin.

“It's past nine on a friday night, I’ll drive you home,” he says.

She crosses her arms, “And what if you’re a suspicious man that is trying to kidnap me?” she asks.

“Then I will just drive next to you as you walk to make sure you get home alright,” he replies. She looks at him and his sincere expression and feels herself walking towards him. Maybe her night was looking up afterall.

Tagged: @awesomelena555 @catwomancabello @overgrown-bat @sannelovesreading @candid-confetti @gendryaforthemasses @musicmaam @skychild29 @empress-ofbloodshed @8emmy @thestarkswinter

[theladyofdeath]

Friday Night Lights {ACOTAR}

Chapter 14

Summary: Inspired by the series Friday Night Lights. In a town that is obsessed with football, a group of teenagers are glorified for what they bring to the field. But what the people of Velaris don’t realize is that there is a lot more to life than football, and it’s not always pretty.

Revolves around Cassian, Nesta, Elain, Lucien, Azriel, Morrigan, Amren, Feyre, and Rhysand.

*Warning: This fic deals with sensitive material.

*Note: A chapter will be posted every Sunday & Wednesday.

Click here for previous chapters.

Author’s Note: I want you all so desperately to know that I read all your comments and they make me feel so loved and wonderful and perfect and good. <3 Thank you!

This chapter is kind of short. It’s preparing us for the next few chapters, which are both quite long!

Enjoy.

Azriel took Declan to the mall around ten, once he had inhaled enough caffeine to make his feet move quickly enough to get them both ready and out the door.

The baby was asleep when Azriel put him into his stroller and rolled him into the building. He didn’t even stir as Azriel found a store that he supposed was good enough for homecoming dance apparel, and waltzed right in.

“Can I help you find anything?” the salesclerk behind the counter asked.

Azriel politely declined and found his way to the back of the store, where their formal wear was.

He hated dressing up.

He felt ridiculous, even though he was told he pulled it off quite well. Still, he felt more like a child playing dress up than a confident man about to take a woman on a date.

Sighing, he sorted through the racks.

They all looked the same to him, even though some were in different colors and patterns. He guessed it was more about the fit, but he wasn’t about to try a bunch on, especially having Declan with him. He would be up and wanting a bottle soon.

He’d had it. He pushed Declan’s stroller over to a table of folded shirts, picked out a royal blue button down, grabbed a pair of black dress pants in his size off a random rack, and headed toward the checkout counter.

Maybe he should have asked the salesclerk for help.

“Is this all for you?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I guess it is.”

Shoes. Did he need shoes? What qualified as acceptable shoes? He’d gone to the dance last year, but he had just gone with his friends – he wore sneakers, for the mother’s sake.

Azriel began to wonder how high Elain’s standards were.

“Uh, where is the nearest shoe store?”

“Azriel?”

Azriel turned around just as the salesclerk was answering his question, not that he had heard her reply, and froze.

“Hey,” he said, unnervingly, as Rhysand approached him.

“Last minute shopping, I see,” Rhysand said, but his eyes were on the stroller.

Azriel just nodded.

Rhysand peeked into the stroller and tilted his head at Declan. When his eyes met Azriel’s again, he asked, “Who is this baby and why does he look like you?”

Azriel knew this day was coming. He knew it, and he pushed it off long enough. For so long, he had hid Declan. At first, for his safety and protection. Then, because he felt like he had waited so long that his friends would be mad at him when the news finally came out. He could lie, and say that it had just happened, but Azriel had never been good at lying. It wasn’t him.

He sighed, and asked, “Free for lunch?”

Rhysand looked at his watch. “A little early for lunch. Brunch?”

Azriel blinked. “Did….you just ask me to brunch?”

“Depends,” Rhysand said. “Is that your kid? Is he the reason you’ve been MIA?”

Azriel opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “Brunch works.”

“Alis, you don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do,” she said. “Now, show me what you have on.”

Feyre took a deep breath and opened the door of her dressing room. She was wearing a floor-length black gown that hugged her hips. “I don’t know about this one.”

Alis smiled. “I think it looks beautiful. But, if it’s not the one, it’s not the one. I bet the red one will suit you. Elain? How’s it going with you?”

“I didn’t like the last one,” she called from within her room. “Trying on another!”

“You don’t have to do this,” Feyre said again.

“It’s true,” Elain commented, peeking her head out of her door. “You really don’t. Please don’t feel obligated. We could go to the thrift –“

“No,” Alis scorned. “Every girl deserves to be taken to get a new dress for a dance. This is important. You both have dates and an exciting night ahead of you. You are both picking out a dress, and I am more than happy to get them for you. After this, we are going to get our nails done, and there will be no complaining.”

Feyre chuckled. “Okay. Fine. You win.”

“You’re the best, Alis,” Elain smiled. “Truly. This means so much.”

“It’s what your mom would have done if she were here,” Alis smiled, gently.

Elain hid herself in her dressing room before she could cry, but Feyre simply gave her a smile before finding her way back into her own.

Alis was kind. Their situation may not have been ideal – at least, it may not have started out that way – but Feyre was growing more and more thankful by the day.

Alis didn’t have to do anything of the things she did for them. And yet, she did them, without any hesitation.

Feyre observed the red dress that Alis had suggested and fingered the silky fabric before slipping off the black one.

Rhysand would be picking her up in a matter of hours.

Feyre had never been pampered, had never even know what it was like to get her nails done, or pick out a new formal gown. She already felt like royalty, and Rhysand wasn’t even in the picture yet.

She wondered what he would be wearing, what he would say once she opened the door. She wondered what she should be wearing underneath her dress, or if it even mattered.

She wanted it to matter.

But the thought also terrified her.

They’d gotten close the night before, as they parked his car by the Sidra at a ridiculous hour in the morning. She couldn’t stop her hands from wandering over his body, and he couldn’t stop his mouth from exploring hers.

She wanted it, then. She was ready for him, and for once she could confidently say that it was more than just lust.

She loved Rhysand.

And she wanted to tell him as much.

“Feyre?” Alis called. “Doing okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” Feyre cleared her throat. “Be out in a minute.”

And when she slipped on the dress, she realized that Alis had been right.

It was perfect.

It was the one.

“Can we go to the park? When am I going over to Reina’s? Can we go to the park? Cass, I’m staaaarving. Can we go to the park?”

Cassian groaned, pulling his comforter over his head. He was exhausted. The night before had been too much.

Nesta had left a few hours before, kissing him goodbye before making the trek back to her own house. She was going to come back over that night, after the dance, and Cassian was counting down the hours.

“Cass,” Alana whined. “If you don’t wake up, I’m going to scream.”

“You’re probably going to scream anyways,” Cassian mumbled.

“Were you up late kissing Nesta?”

Cassian peeked out from under his pillow. “What? How do you know about that? You shouldn’t be asking questions like that.”

Alana rolled her eyes. “I’m five. I’m not stupid.”

Cassian, begrudgingly, laughed. “No, I was not up all night kissing Nesta.”

“She’s nice,” Alana said. “I like her. You should keep her. Don’t do something stupid.”

Cassian raised his brows. “I don’t do stupid things.”

Alana snorted. “If you say so. Anyway, back to my day. I called Mor this morning. She said she’s excited to go to the dance with you. I asked her why you weren’t going with your new girlfriend.”

Cassian cursed. “You asked her what?”

Alana shrugged. “Why you weren’t going to the dance with Nesta. She said she doesn’t know what I’m talking about. Why didn’t she know?”

Cassian took a minute to choose his words wisely. “It’s….complicated. I really wish you wouldn’t use my phone without my permission and supervision.”

Now he had to explain things to Mor. Dear gods.

“Why? Are you keeping secrets?” Alana gasped. “That’s naughty –“

“No, I’m not keeping….” Cassian trailed off as he rubbed his temples. “Just, this….Nesta and I…..We can’t….People can’t know about us. That we’re dating.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“That’s a shitty reason.”

“Don’t swear,” Cassian ordered.

“You swear all the time,” Alana shot back.

The two stared at one another as the seconds flew by. Cassian was always the first to break. “Go get dressed and find your hairbrush. We’ll go get lunch, and I’ll take you to the park.”

“Yay!” She shouted, jumping on his bed until her feet were on the floor, stomping across the hardwood into her bedroom.

Cassian didn’t know what their future held.

But he knew that little girl would do great things in her lifetime.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

Azriel shrugged, and looked at Declan. “I’m not ashamed of him, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Rhysand didn’t blink. He simply took a sip of his water before asking, “Then help me understand. Az, we’ve known each other since we were kids. We all have. We’re like family, at least that’s what I thought –“

“We are –“

“Then why would you keep something like this from us? Did you not think we’d be happy for you? Did you not think we would help in any way we can?”

Azriel shook his head. “No, it’s not that…I just – his mom –“

All of Rhysand’s frustration seemed to evaporate as Azriel trailed off. “Are you ever going to tell me who she is?”

A tense moment passed.

“Ianthe,” he stated, quietly.

Rhysand almost dropped his glass. “Shit, Azriel. When? How? Well, I know how….When?”

“A little over a year ago. Just before school started Junior year. I was drunk……I don’t know. It only happened once.”

“And you never questioned her? That you were the father?”

Azriel gave him a pointed look as he gestured toward Declan. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

It was true. Declan was practically a spitting image of his father.

Rhysand, speechless, just shook his head. “I just…..I wish you had told us.”

“I know,” Azriel said. “I didn’t know how. I’m sorry.”

Rhysand took a deep breath, and raked a hand through his hair as he watched Declan sleep peacefully. “I’m proud of you, Az. You seem like a great dad.”

Azriel tried to smile, but failed.

“What’s wrong?” Rhysand asked.

“Ianthe is back. She was at the game the other night.”

“That’s why you left.”

He nodded. “I was afraid she was looking for him. She can’t find him, Rhys. If she does, everything I’ve done to protect him goes to shit.”

Something like pain flashed through Rhysand’s eyes. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Azriel thanked him, but he felt ashamed. A secret. Declan didn’t deserve to be a secret. But, how else was he going to keep him safe?

Elain felt like a princess.

She had picked out a turquoise and blush floral floor length gown that hugged her waist and made her breasts look a cup size bigger than they actually were.

Nesta was sitting on her bed, her camera in hand. “Okay, you two, get together, we need a picture.”

Feyre rolled her eyes, looking radiant even as she did so. Her golden-brown hair was down, straight, and hanging low across her thigh-length red gown.

Elain made sure her braided up-do, a creation of Nesta’s, was still holding up before putting her arm around Feyre’s waist, and smiling.

“There,” Nesta announced. “Perfect. You both look so beautiful.”

Elain felt a slight pang of guilt. Nesta had never had this opportunity. She was younger than the rest of her class, sure, but she still deserved the chance to feel the way she and Feyre did.

“Have fun. Make good choices,” Nesta said. “And by make good choices I mean –“

“We get it,” Feyre said, and Elain noticed she was blushing.

“Oh my god,” Elain whispered. “Are you and Rhysand going to –“

“No. Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not. I don’t know.”

Elain squealed as Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t. Unless you’re absolutely sure, and you’re absolutely ready….Don’t.”

But Elain already knew how Feyre felt about Rhysand. And Rhysand treated her with respect and love. He was it. He was the one.

“Noted,” Feyre mumbled, her cheeks reddening further.

The doorbell rang, sending Feyre running toward the door, and Elain and Nesta following quickly behind.

“Keep an eye on her,” Nesta mumbled. “I don’t trust her.”

Elain just rolled her eyes.

“Elain?”

She stopped in the hallway, and turned toward her older sister to see something serious in her gray-blue eyes: worry.

“If you need anything tonight, please call me,” she said. “I can be there in five minutes.”

She gave her sister a hug, then looked her in the eye once she had pulled back. “I will. I promise. But try not to worry, okay? It’s just a dance.”

Nesta nodded, but didn’t look too convinced as Elain hurried to the front door and prepared to see her date.

Ianthe looked at herself in the mirror one final time.

Her black dress was perfect, another tool that could be used to her advantage. She knew Azriel would be there, knew he would probably be with someone else. She didn’t care, though.

She had a plan.

And what Ianthe wanted, Ianthe got. 

[illyriantremors]

Beneath the Stars Chapter 8

Chapter: I II III IV V VI VII

AO3 Linkage

Summary: After a particularly regrettable fight with her sisters and Tamlin, Feyre tracks her boyfriend down at Ianthe's Newspaper party and receives an unwelcome surprise. Full breakdown ensues.

Chapter 8

Nesta and Elain froze when they saw me. No one said anything, so I cleared my throat and decided to go first.

“Hey,” and then I couldn’t think of anything else to say. It wasn’t like either of them to be home in the middle of the semester especially on a Sunday night before they’d have to be back early the next day for class.

“Feyre,” Elain said trying to smile at the same time that Nesta said sharply, “We need to talk.”

Elain faced our older sister and pressed her hands downward towards the floor mouthing something. Nesta grimaced, but spoke again with a little intensity. “Mom wants you to come home.”

“What?”

“Can we at least sit down first?!” Elain stammered.

“Fine,” Nesta and I said at the same time taking seats on the living room couches. “What is going on?” I asked. “What do you mean mom wants me to come home? This is home. And when did she decide to talk to you again?”

My sisters looked at each other tightly. Elain bit her lip. “Feyre…” she said slowly with careful deliberation. “We never stopped talking to mom.”

There was a silence during which everyone was uncomfortable and an awful truth sank in. Mom wasn’t talking to my sisters. They were talking to her - actively. I’d had it all backwards.

The only person mom had apparently stopped talking to was me.

And dad.

“But she left us,” I said as a raw spot in my throat went numb. “How could you-”

“We haven’t lived here in years, Feyre,” Nesta said coldly. “It’s time you didn’t either.”

“And go where? With her? Nesta, she hasn’t spoken to me since the night she left.”

“That phone works both ways, you know.” She flipped her hand in the direction of the phone still sitting in my palm. I hadn’t let go of it since I’d left Rhys’s - save for driving of course. “You could have called her. But instead you’ve been sitting here all summer acting like she’s the reincarnation of Hitler and it’s ridiculous.”

“Nesta,” Elain warned, but I was already fuming.

“What’s ridiculous is you defending her. Nesta, mom abandoned us. And she didn’t even bother to say goodbye.”

“That’s because we went with her!”

I sat back feeling like she’d just driven a stake through my heart. “You - you what?”

“That’s right. I dumped dad’s sorry ass and moved in with mom. She got a new place close to school so that she could make it easier on me and Elain with classes.”

I looked to my middle sister. Her body constricted inward on itself as she drew her shoulders up high around her face, her back curving over herself. “What does she mean when she says it’s easier on her and you?”

Elain looked like she might cry. “Feyre - Feyre, we just want you to be safe, okay? That’s all this is about. Mom left so that we could have a normal life because dad’s not well. Now that she has a place arranged, you can get away from him.”

She tried to lay her hand against mine, but I brushed it off. Betrayal took on a whole new meaning as I realized my sisters had left me too. I could see it in Elain’s guilty expression because she knew full well this was a secret her and Nesta had purposefully hidden from me. Why on earth they thought it mattered now to take me away was beyond me.

“Dad’s fine,” I said. “And anywhere with mom could never be a home. Not for me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Nesta snapped. She shot out of her seat, ignoring Elain’s strangled gasp and disappeared, coming back a moment later with the kitchen trash can in her hand. It was empty save for at least half a dozen empty alcohol bottles.

Whiskey, bourbon, vodka… whatever dad could get his hands on so long as it took the pain away each night. I hadn’t realized he’d been going through so many bottles after I went to bed.

“You think dad’s okay?” Nesta shouted. “Look at this and tell me this is okay Feyre. Tell me!”

“Shh, he’ll hear you!” Elain said, standing up to put herself on Nesta’s level. Good luck to her. No one could ever pull even with Nesta. She was a tower of fire and venom hell itself could not have forged.

Elain pointed upstairs to where dad’s bedroom was. I prayed he was sleeping deeply by this point, even if that only further proved Nesta’s point…

“I don’t care if he hears me. Let him! He’s an ass for doing this to us and he’s out of his fucking mind.”

She threw the trash can on the floor and the bottles rattled inside causing me to jump. “For fuck’s sake, Nesta - he’s sick. That’s why he needs our help!”

“Get a grip, Feyre. He’s a drunk, and a lazy, depressed one at that. You can’t help him. You can hardly help yourself! Look at you running around with that loser thinking you have a life. You’re just as miserable and pitiful as dad is.”

“Which is why you have to come with us,” Elain said and then froze, realizing how she’d just sounded. “I mean - no, Feyre, I only meant that it’s not good for you to be around dad so much when-”

“I know exactly what you meant, Elain,” I interjected entirely stone faced. “I get it. I’m worthless. Mom said the same thing - right before she walked out. So save it. I’m not going with her. I needed her - I needed all of you - and you all left. Now dad needs me and I’m sure as shit not ditching out on him like the pair of you.”

“Such bullshit, Feyre,” Nesta said, but I cut her off with a shout so shrill, I hardly recognized my own voice.

“That’s enough! For years you have treated me like shit, Nesta and I don’t know why. I’m sorry your perfect sisterhood got interrupted ten years down the road, but you can blame mom and dad for that. So just go back to school. You can pretend like I don’t exist. It’s what you normally do anyway, right? Feyre doesn’t have a life. Feyre doesn’t have friends. Feyre’s not important. Well guess what - you were right. I don’t know why you even bothered coming.”

I stormed past them and managed to wait until I hit the stairs before I let the tears fall. Elain tried to call after me, but I listened as Nesta cut her off and made some excuse about it getting late and early morning classes or some other.

When I heard the car start, I dared peak out the window to make sure they were really leaving and then I went back downstairs to check on dad. The door was shut, but not locked. When I opened it, the room was pitch dark.

Dad was a collapsed heap in the middle of his bed. He was lying on his stomach so I couldn’t see his face, but a second later his body gave a great heave and a heavy snore erupted out of him.

He was okay.

I went downstairs and fetched a broom to clean up the broken beer bottle that had fallen on the floor beside his bed and cracked open, adding it to the trash can Nesta had shoved in my face before taking it all outside.

And then I went to bed wondering if I’d ever have a day that didn’t fill me with some kind of darkness again.

That was the worst part, I decided. Never feeling completely whole. Some days I woke up and watched the world around me burn. Other days I woke up and felt almost normal, but never entirely so.

For some reason, the universe insisted that something had to be off at all times. There were struggles that were easier to pinpoint and understand - problems like the trash can or the unanswered text messages or the unfilled applications, all of which were symbols of a lot more than what they were as simple objects orbiting in and out of my life.

But the days where I couldn’t figure it out, where everything was seemingly fine - those were the days that nearly killed me. I could wake up, pick out an outfit that made me feel good about myself and still feel like dirt.

I could sit at lunch and joke with Tamlin and sometimes even Lucien and hardly touch my food.

I could get an A on every test, come home to find dad stone cold sober, watch my favorite tv show, and get all of my homework done on time and it didn’t matter because I felt miserable. Something was missing. I had people in my life at every turn and I felt disconnected to all of them. I would say things I didn’t mean, ignore the people and ideas that mattered, and let the anger take over while Feyre coasted on autopilot.

The only time I didn’t feel like a complete zombie faking it just to get from one day to the next was my time spent with Rhys and Mor, but I kept those interactions as brief as possible. I sensed Tamlin didn’t like me being around them even though he wouldn’t tell me why, and most days I was too tired to argue. So the guilt clipped my smiles and every time I hung around Rhys for SBC meetings, a little hole in my heart opened up as soon as another closed.

And I was so sick of it. Sick of never knowing what normal felt like anymore. I missed it horribly. Missed understanding what it was like to live life without knowing with any certainty what kind of day I was going to have, what my body was going to dictate I felt regardless of what I wanted. Never had I felt so empty and full to bursting at the same time. It dragged me down and down and down.

Tamlin finally cornered me Monday to talk about the time I’d been spending on student council. He hadn’t spoken to me all day for never calling him back after my first day at work even though I apologized profusely for it all through lunch.

I was just about to open the door to the administration building when I found Tamlin pushing in front of me to slam it shut so hard the window pane vibrated.

“Are you shitting me right now, Feyre?” He kept a hand firmly on the door so that there was no chance of me getting past him.

“What the hell are you doing? Tamlin - shit!”

He stepped in front me, his face only inches from mine. I’d never seen him explode with so much anger before. It made me nervous. Where was Lucien?

“I thought I told you to stay away from Rhys? And now I find out you’re on student council with him? Shit, Fey - is this where you’ve been going every Monday when you ditch on me?”

“Oh because you don’t ditch out on me all the damn time for Newspaper?”

“That’s because Newspaper is actually important!”

All the fire went out of me as that single word Nesta had thrown at me reverberated in my head.

Important.

As in - I was not important.

“I’m getting somewhere with this and you’re wasting your time when I need you most. I tried to call you a million times yesterday and you wouldn’t pick up.”

“I was working. I was…”

With Rhys.

“You were working, huh. At eleven o’clock at night?”

The trash can falling to the floor.

Nesta hollering.

Elain’s milky doe-eyes cringing at me.

And mom, mom was…

“There’s a party tonight at Ianthe’s. She’s announcing co-editors finally. I was going to ask you to go with me, but obviously,” he turned and gestured roughly at the concrete walls I wanted desperately to crawl into, “you have other commitments, so I won’t bother.”

Won’t bother with you is what he’s really saying, my mind registered. When did I get so jacked up?

“If you’re smart - if I matter at all to you, you’ll stay the fuck away from him.”

“What exactly is your problem with him?”

“Should it really matter? Honestly, Feyre. I’m your boyfriend and you should trust me, which is a heck of a lot more than I can say for you right now. He’s not good to be around and he used me and his sister horribly a few years back. Set us both on the wrong path. That’s all you need to know.”

Tamlin left and I hardly took notice of anything as my feet led me mindlessly inside, past the reception desk, and into the meeting room where our SBC sessions took place. I prayed this wouldn’t be one of the days where the principal joined us.

Cassian was the only one there yet and when he saw me, his eyebrows went through the roof.

“What the hell happened to you?”

I sat down and replied with the only two words I knew anymore. “I’m fine.”

“Really? Because you look like crap and that’s putting it mildly.”

Heat flooded my face as a wave of embarrassment crept over me. His expression softened, but he still looked… confused.

“Hey,” he said much more gently. “You know you can talk about it if you need to. I can take the punches if there’s something you need to get off your chest.”

And he meant it. I could tell. Cassian stared at me and he understood something - maybe everything, I wasn’t sure.

I took a good look at Cassian right then, perhaps my first real look at him ever. It was hard to see past the hulkish figure, but for once I managed it. His football jersey hung out of his backpack with dried mud and grass stains worn into the seams. That meant practice almost every day after school. And he wasn’t stupid - not by a long shot. Cassian was taking just as many AP classes this year as Az was. Not to mention Student Council duties which Cassian was very attentive to underneath the pseudo-mockery he made of it.

He’d grown up on the move. Military family, dad probably never home. Was that what drove him? Was that why he gave so much? Because no one gave him anything?

Was that what he was seeing and assessing right now as he stared back at me?

I didn’t have a chance to find out. Mor breezed into the room and plopped down in the seat next to me. I took one look at Cassian and just barely shook my head in the negative.

“Well I’m pooped,” she said throwing her arms down beside her. She had her cheer uniform on so she must have just gotten out of practice. Cheer was an entire period unto itself just like a regular class. “Rhys better keep this meeting short. I’m tired of talking about pep rallies. They get exhausting when you have to perform at every one of ‘em instead of just kicking back in the stands like you lazy lot do.”

She was making a joke, that much was clear. Her smile was bright and clear as always, but when Cassian didn’t say anything and she took in my sullen mood, the redness of my eyes, her curiosity spiked. “Am I missing something, or-”

“Everything’s fine,” I said totally on autopilot. “How was cheer?”

She was still skeptical, but with a fake smile plastered all over my face and an encouraging nod, she was forced to answer my question.

The meeting itself passed in a blur. Rhys really did keep it short and I took the first opportunity to leave when it was over and bolted. He’d been eyeing me worriedly too many times and I kept thinking about what Tamlin had mentioned - how Rhys had somehow hurt him and his sister. I didn’t even know he had a sister.

I’d hardly looked at Rhys or said more than was absolutely necessary. Mor was asking if she could have a word with him when I was halfway out the door.

I stewed for the remainder of the afternoon unable to shake off the memory of Tamlin slamming the door shut in front of me. Tamlin getting in my face and yelling so harshly at me. Tamlin losing his temper so much that it frightened me what he might do standing so close.

Homework went forgotten. I ignored dad when he called up the stairs to my room in the attic that he’d made dinner. I wasn’t hungry. Food just didn’t seem… important.

I nestled in the corner of my room hugging my knees to my chest. The walls were still blank and the thought of painting them as I’d wanted to was now unbearable.

This wasn’t right. I wasn’t right.

I was breaking - maybe even already broken beyond repair.

But I had to try.

By the time I got to Ianthe’s, I could barely drive. I probably should have called someone. Her front yard was a mess of parked cars. The entire Newspaper staff was likely invited and from the sounds of celebration going on inside, it seemed she had already announced her co-editors.

No one answered my knock on the door, so I let myself in. People milled about everywhere and while it wasn’t a booming sound, music played distantly in the background.

Lucien sat on one of the couches with a cup in his hand. He was laughing - the happiest I’d seen him in weeks - chatting amiably with a brunette when he looked over and spotted me. His face went still as death and I recognized the look. I’d worn it too many times myself.

Fear.

I scanned the room and reached the conclusion at the same time Lucien saw it dawn on my face. He shot up in a hurry, but I moved down the hall.

There were too many doors. Ianthe’s house wasn’t multi-storied like most of the upper class mansions in this ridiculous city, but the layout of her lone floor stretched on forever. I could hear Lucien shouting after me.

The first two rooms were empty and the third was a bathroom, but on the fourth I struck gold.

“Feyre, don’t!”

I swung the door open into the dimly lit room. It was too dark for me to see properly, but my other senses took over. I could smell them together - scented the sweat collecting between them. I could feel it too. That tension between them as they moved? It was palpable.

Worst of all perhaps, I could hear it. The sound of skin on skin. The smack of lips sucking and nipping to tease and delight. The crinkle of sheets tangling between their legs.

The groan emanating from Ianthe’s lips as he pressed into her…

My body started shaking. I fumbled against the wall looking for the switch. Lucien collided into me with a whispered admonishment, but the force of him knocked me further and I found the light.

Tamlin and Ianthe were nothing like I’d imagined in the five seconds I’d stood in the dark. They were a million times worse. In the moments between the lights coming on and the realization dawning on Tamlin as Ianthe writhed beneath him, I saw her face - saw how her mouth parted and her eyes squeezed shut with delight and it wrecked me.

Rage replaced the guilt and grief that had ushered me over.

“Feyre,” Tamlin said, all movement ceasing. We stared at each other and I was vaguely aware of the party coming to a standstill behind me. The world was so silent when it came to a standstill. Tamlin’s lips trembled, his chest heaved. He looked down at Ianthe who was clutching the muscles of his arms.

He moved to get off the bed and I stepped back. “Fey?”

My blood boiled. I never wanted to hear my name like that from him again. “Congratulations,” I said keeping a tight leash on my self-control. “I see you got the job. I’m glad all the hours were worth it.”

“Feyre, please.”

“No.” My muscles shook, but I wouldn’t give myself away - not yet. “We’re through.”

“Feyre.”

The sheets pooled at his feet as he stepped off the bed. “We’re through.” I slammed the door in his face - an eye for an eye.

I’d forgotten about Lucien, didn’t even hear him running after me until he had to physically stop me and turn me around outside my car and I shoved him roughly. He looked horrible and I didn’t care.

“Did you know?” I asked. I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it from him. “Did you know?” I asked a second time. Lucien closed his mouth and I could see his throat clench as he swallowed his anxiety.

“Yes, Feyre. I knew.”

And it all made sense. All those weeks over summer of fighting and biting comments building between the two of them, Lucien’s warning me about Tamlin after Rhys offered me a spot on SBC, the way he and Tamlin barely seemed like friends anymore. Shit, even the night I went to Lucien’s party and he insisted on finding Tamlin himself. Was that because he’d been with her even then?

Tamlin was never obsessed with making co-editor or maybe he was, but it was only one small part of it. He’d been sleeping with her all along.

Was I to assume every late night he blew me off was so he could go and see her instead? Was every staff meeting just an excuse to cozy up to her more? Did he love her?

I decided I didn’t want to know. Lucien froze my car door as I opened it and I snapped at him, “Don’t you dare!” He stumbled back. I’d never yelled at him before. Not once.

“Feyre,” he pleaded, his voice dry. “What did you expect?”

“I expected you to tell me, Lucien! And if you think shooting him dirty glares and giving me cryptic messages about talking to him counts, you’re insane. I mean, for goodness sake, I knew you didn’t particularly care for me, but I thought we were better friends than this.”

“We were - we are. I only-”

“Don’t. Don’t even try to justify it. We’re done. I just want to go home.”

But as I drove away trying not to look at Lucien’s miserable face, I realized this was an outright lie. The further I got from Ianthe’s house, the more the picture of her naked pressed up against Tamlin burned into my mind. The more the tears came fast and hot on my cheeks, burning my eyes as they went.

I felt everything.

I felt the way Tamlin had looked at me like he knew he should be sorry, but he wasn’t.

I felt the way Lucien had startled off the couch, panicked I would discover the truth the I deserved to know.

I felt the way Nesta had thrown the horrible reality of my dad’s situation in my face.

I felt the way every bottle he drank drained me of a little more light.

I felt the way mom yelled at me to get out of her way as she closed the door - said the sight of me with dad made her sick.

I felt how truly alone I’d been for months turning away the only good company offered and clinging to all the bad.

I was in a hole hanging on to the last roots of the earth dug into the sides, dirt caking underneath my fingernails and making me feel dirty for clinging on. If I stepped down any further, there would be no climbing out. I would disappear forever and it terrified me.

The only thing that terrified me more was the idea that I wanted to disappear and never return. That epiphany of understanding just how insignificant I was in the universe threatened to crush me. As I drove, I wondered what it would be like if I took my hands off the wheel and just drifted on, let come what may.

Only important people with purpose in their lives were meant to stay, right?

Somehow, I made it to his house in one piece. I rang the doorbell and waited.

Rhys opened the door and his face shattered.

“I need help,” I said.

And then the dam inside me broke open wide and unabated.

xx