#Lucien is heir to a court

[acourtofthought]

"I'll defeat him with little effort"

Meanwhile.......

Lucien, to his credit, didn’t back away a step. From Rhys, or me, or the Illyrians.

He added to Lucien, who did not balk from those writhing shadows, “After lunch, we’ll meet.”

“Easy,” Lucien said. Cassian snarled. “Easy,” Lucien repeated, and flame sizzled in his russet eye. The flame, the surprising dominance within it, hit Cassian like a stone to the head, knocking him from his need to kill and kill and kill whatever might threaten—

[oristian]

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LUCIEN VANSERRA — HEIR TO THE DAY COURT

I originally intended to wait and post this for @lucienweekofficial but I wanted to share this stunning artwork with everyone early! I cannot wait to see Lucien and Helion and their interactions in the next books and I have high hopes that Lucien will be appointed to some title—either High Lord, or Prince—within the Day Court. The vision was Helion crowning his son and Lucy brought this idea to life wonderfully.

ART CREDIT @lucychanart

COMMISSION BY @oristian / @/ktbookishclub

characters belong to Sarah J Maas 🦊☀️

REPOSTS ALLOWED WITH FULL CREDIT

[bagelfyre]

Lucien acclimating to his rightful home, finally free to bask in the sun and glow to his heart’s content 😌✨

[inspo: Ye Hao sunburn trend]

[yennas-stuff]

If Lucien behaved like that in acotar while dealing all his insecurities, guilt, and feeling worthless deep inside... I'm scared of how a confident and self-assured version of Lucien will make us all act.

Barking will not be enough. I will need to howl at the moon.

[silly--fangirl]

elucien as high king and high queen is something i think about on a daily basis

lucien is directly connected to 4 courts atp, but he's also an emissary with friends across all prythian and the continent

elain is a cauldron blessed seer, sister to feyre cursebreaker, a lady of the society

the alliances they could make go hard tbh

but also they would be so powerful together, i can't

also i belive they have what it takes to actually inspire and charm people into wanting to follow their lead, without threatening them into doing so

[etchedjade]

I know Beron is widely considered a huge asshole, the typical abusive sexist husband figure and father that hits his family and controls every single aspect of their lives, that the LoA is a kind, sweet and submissive wife beaten down constantly by her husband, and that all brothers (except Eris and Lucien) are bad people that hate each other

But that's just way too fucking bland and repetitive and for a world based on faeries, I don't believe for a second that's all there is to the Vanserra family

I believe that Beron is actually a much more complicated and deep character that it seems, just like LoA. Maybe the woman isn't so defenseless behind her house's walls, maybe she's every inch of the autumn court as her family is and only cares for them and herself. Maybe Beron truly loves them, but it's a sick and fucked up version of love that causes more pain than anything, because he thinks inflicting pain on his sons is a way of "helping them". Maybe he and LoA were truly in love at some point, but it went to shit and now they're stuck together, dealing with this web of rotten feelings they're holding into.

Maybe the Vanserra brothers aren't just murderous copies of their father, but really deeply traumatized boys that never learnt how to love properly and they care a lot for each other but showing it would mean weakness, but they share the same scars by the same man.

Maybe they all knew Lucien wasn't Beron's son, but they decided to keep it quiet because that was still their little brother, and while the feelings are so damn twisted, they know they don't want Beron to kill him. Maybe Beron himself also knew but chose not to do anything because Lucien was still his wife's son and couldn't bring himself to do it.

Don't mind me just obsessed over the idea of the Vanserra being this big ass messy, toxic and complicated family with deep lore that love and hate each other at the same time. They would kill each other. They would die for each other. All of them. Because they'll always be family and nothing can erase that. It's all they have.

Oh gosh, I’ve been thinking the same things.

I’d like to believe Beron truly did love LoA in the beginning but the societal pressures of Autumn messed him up. That LoA loves the people of the Forest House, her sons, and Autumn, and a part of her still feels for Beron, but it’s all gone to hell after years of being in that toxic environment.

I’ve always imagined the Vanserra’s as a mix of Targaryens and Lannisters—for those that are familiar with R.R.Martin. In the way that both families deep down love their family members (not in the way you’re thinking…) but the roles they’ve been forced into shredded that. So now each family is broken but the “House name” must be upheld and everyone is supposed to “carry their weight.”

I honestly can’t see it ever changing with Beron still in the picture, unfortunately. I think his death will be Autumn’s, and the Vanserra’s, catalyst for changing their ways.

Just some food for thought. Thank you so much for sharing!!

[thelov3lybookworm]

Request! A Eris x Archeron!yn fic. Imagine a prythian where the high lords are not good and friendly with each other and are now planning a war over one another to take down the court next to them and rule over. Now after a LOT of convincing Autum Court and Night court are forced in a alliance between each other because of yn. Now imagine if one of them sabotages the alliance! What will happen? Who will yn choose? Will she be able to choose between her sisters and mate?

(I don't know if you write for Eris or not. If you don't and you want to write this, you change it to yn being Eris's little sister and being Azriel's mate. Or if you don't want to write this at all that's totally fine too!)

Bloodshed.

Eris week day 2, High Lord

Eris x Archeron!reader

Summary: The world is in chaos, and its not the best time to find the other half of your soul when the people you live with would trade anything to kill your mate.

But that's exactly what has happened with Y/n, and she has no idea how to save him. But maybe she could negotiate?

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: hey anon! I love the idea, Eris is one of my most loved acotar males. Soo sorry for the delay in posting this! I didn't have time to write it, and when I did, @erisweek2023 was close, so I thought why not post it then. So, here it is. I hope you like it.

First time participating in a character week, soo excited! 😆

Also make sure to check out other Eris week creations too!❣️

•○🌑○•

Today they would be meeting up with the new High Lord of the Autumn Court. An important court related meeting, as Y/n's brother in law claimed. It wouldn't have been held if not for the new High Lord's ascension to Autumn's throne.

They said it was so that they could try and be allies, but Y/n was no kid. They just wanted to meet with him so that they could find any weaknesses to exploit and get Autumn under their domain.

Since the moment the war against Hybern had ended, the High Lords had been at each others throats. A smile on the face that equalled to a sneer in the privacy of their courts.

And Y/n was sick of their games.

The inner circle was kind enough to everyone in Night Court, but the rulers had slowly and steadily become more and more power hungry, turning on people who they would have once considered friends.

Eris had once been an ally, but he was only a friend for the reason that he fed the inner circle information regarding Beron and his schemes, so he could get some help getting rid of his father in return. It had barely been a week since he became High Lord, and the night court had already started scheming to get Eris off the throne.

She knew that Night Court wasn't the only one who was planning that.

And she hated them for it.

It wasn't that she was interested whether Eris ruled Autumn Court or not, she just wanted him to... not be sad for once.

She had only had a handful of conversations with him, but she knew that he wasn't the evil person he pretended to be. She could see it in his eyes, the bruised and sad look that he always had in those beautiful amber orbs. She didn't know how no one else noticed it.

But she did. She somehow had this irrational urge to soothe him. Soothe all of his worries and comfort him, let him tell her of all that he went through. She wanted to see the man beneath the cold mask of the Autumn Court heir, now High Lord.

It was stupid, she knew, especially because the people who she lived with would probably lock her away if she so much as showed interest in him. But she couldn't help it. It was like her instincts were screaming at her to go–

A knock on her bedroom doors drew her from her thoughts. She flinched from the sudden loud noise before going to open the door. It was her younger sister.

Feyre looked at her, surveying her from head to toe before nodding. "He's here. Come." Y/n followed her towards a meeting room in Moonstone Palace. "I still don't understand why you want to be present in the meeting. It's just going to be fake smiles and Eris's disgusting personality. It's a pain in the ass, if you ask me. He's a pain in the ass. The faster he gets removed from the throne and hopefully dies, the better."

Y/n said nothing.

Y/n and Elain were twins, but Elain was soft, kind and caring, while Y/n was anything but. That didn't deter everyone from assuming she was the same as Elain. That she was naive and wouldn't understand their despicable schemes.

As they entered the meeting room where Eris and most of the inner circle were in, Y/n's heart fluttered.

But then her eyes met with his, and her heart stopped as something started to glow inside of her. He stared back at her, his lips parting.

It was like her soul was freed from a cage as she felt all the love and happiness and confusion in the world surrounding her heart. She smiled slightly, looking at the dazed look on his face.

"Well well, look who's here. I don't know why she wanted to be here, but you can't help when someone doesn't want to understand and is childish–" Rhys said, straightening from the table and sliding his hands into his pockets.

"Y/n. How are you doing?" Eris asked, glaring at Rhys.

"I'm fine. How about yourself?" Her shoulders curved inwards as her brother in law's power whipped around the room.

"I'm good. Thank you for asking."

"Is that all you wanted to ask? If so, you can leave now."

Y/n swallowed. She didn't know why Rhysand had started acting like that around her, but it scared her. He had been like an older brother to her, just like Cassian and Azriel. But one day it was like she woke up in a new world, and she did not recognise anyone. "I– I would–"

"Come Y/n." Eris pulled out the chair next to him, motioning for her to sit in it. She smiled gratefully as she settled down, while Rhysand fumed.

"What were we talking about again before we were interrupted?" Azriel questioned.

"Yes, we were trying to negotiate an alliance." Eris said calmly. But amusement shone on everyones faces as Mor and Feyre snorted. Y/n looked around confused. What was happening?

"There is going to be no negotiation on any alliance. You were very useful in eliminating your father, Eris, but looks like we have no use of you now."

Y/n stiffened, realising that this was no normal meeting. This was an ambush. "Hey, hey. Let's not get hostile." She began when she spied the Illyrians reaching for their weapons. "Why can we not become allies? It would be better–"

"Shut up." Rhysand snapped, stunning Y/n for a moment. And in that moment, a ring of raging fire surrounded Rhysand. He paled as the fire continued spreading around the room, now making a cage like structure around all the members of the inner circle.

"Do not talk to her like that. Ever again." Deadly intention dripped from every word out of Eris's mouth as he stood. She stood along with him, panic clawing up her throat. "You'll be ash before you have time to apologise."

Rhysand snarled, just before a bubble of water surrounded him. Y/n looked around, realising Feyre was the one responsible for the water bubble.

Y/n tugged on Eris's sleeve, and he slowly turned his head to look at her. She shook her head at him, her eyes pleading. He stared at her for a moment before the fire vanished.

As soon as it did, the three illyrians advanced on them. Y/n threw herself in front of Eris, clutching his hands behind her back so he wouldn't do anything reckless again. Which was stupid, as he didn't need his hands to burn the place down.

"Get away from him Y/n." Rhysand said in a deadly voice, continuing to come towards them as Cassian and Azriel pulled out their swords and daggers.

She shook her head, glancing at Feyre helplessy. "Do something!"

"Why would I? Stop acting like that Y/n, he's not a nice person. He deserves to die."

Y/n looked around, hoping someone would help her. "Feyre, I have a question for you. When you first met Rhysand, was he a nice person?"

Feyre's brows furrowed, but she answered, speaking slowly and gently as if speaking to a small child. "No, he was not a nice person. But he's my mate, and when I got to know him more, I realised he was a nice person. But Y/n, is it necessary to ask these stupid questions at this moment?"

"Yes." She turned back to Rhysand. "Please, negotiate an alliance. He's my mate."

Everything was dead silent for a minute, and everyone stared at her. Eris had managed to free his hands from her clutches, and she felt his hands wrapping around her, tugging her back.

"You shouldn't have done that." He whispered in her ear frantically. And when she thought about it, she realised how stupid it was. These people were not ones she had once known. These were bloodthirsty and greedy, and they wouldn't care for their enemy's mate, even though the mate was their family. They could also use her to force Eris to do something. Maybe even leave the throne and go into hiding.

"What did you say?" Rhysand asked, his voice low.

"Please Rhys, you know what it feels like to have a mate. Please don't do this." She glanced at the other Illyrians, who had stopped just behind Rhys.

"You are going to go with him?"

"Yes. I–I want to."

"The bond is clouding your judgement."

"No it is not, I swear."

Rhys glanced at Feyre, conversing mind to mind before sighing. "You'll regret this Y/n, and when you realise it, you'll come back crying to us. Guess we won't have any fun today then."

"Really?"

"Hmm. Well, get back to the table. We'll have to negotiate a stupid alliance then."

•○🌑○•

That had been months ago, and now Autumn Court was safe. At least for the time being.

She continued staring out the window, drinking her monthly contraceptive tea. She and Eris had accepted the bond within one month of the alliance being made, and for the next month, it had been as if they had been wiped of the face of Prythian.

She blushed, thinking of that month. It wasn't as if it didn't still feel like they were in a mating frenzy though. No, Eris would grab her whenever he got one moment of peace. But back then? He had her for himself, uninterrupted most of the time. Any work he had, he would do when she rested. Writing letters to reading reports, keeping tabs on the training of soldiers to the current favourite food of his people, that male did everything, all the while making sure to give her time as well.

And if there was only one thing she knew, it was that she didnt regret her decision. She never would.

She sighed, moving to take a sip from her tea when two strong arms wrapped around her torso. Without a moments hesitation and without realising what she was doing, she relaxed back into the body of her mate.

Her amazing, perfect mate.

As soon as she relaxed, she felt warmth rushing through the bond, a tint of glee and surprise mixed with the love.

"Good morning love." Eris whispered–his voice raspy and clouded with sleep– againt her hair before burying his head in the crook of her neck. She tilted her head back and to the side to give him more space.

"Good morning handsome."

She felt him smile against her, nipping at her. He lifted his head a little so his cheek rested against her.

"What are you drinking?"

"My monthly contraceptive tea."

"That's great."

"I feel like there's more you want to say." She muttered, caressing his arm. She turned to him and he rested his forehead against her.

"Is the tea hot?"

Her brows furrowed. "No, not really. It was brought in quite some time ago. Why?"

"Then finish it up quickly darling."

"Why?" She smirked. She knew why, she just wanted to hear him say it.

"You know why."

"Do I though?" She sipped from the almost finished cup teasingly.

"Hmm. Guess I'll just show you why then."

His eyes twinkled, and she couldn't hold back anymore. So she gulped down the tea in one go before pouncing on him.

•○🌑○•

She stared at herself in the mirror, running her fingers over her deep red gown's neckline.

She and her mate, the High Lord and Lady of Autumn Court, had been invited to the Night Court. They hadn't been provided with a specific reason why the celebration was being held, they just were invited.

Whatever the reason, there was a pit of dread forming in her stomach.

The door creaked open to her chambers and her mate poked his head in. When she turned to look at him, she found his mouth slightly parted, as if he was about to say something.

But then he stepped in, closing the door behind him. He whistled lowly as he walked towards her. "Give me a twirl pretty girl."

She smiled and did exactly that. He whistled flirtatiously, eyeing her body before meeting her eyes. "Would you look at that. Perfect. Absolutely gorgeous."

She blushed like a schoolgirl at the praises spewed from her mate and husband's mouth. It didn't last long as she remembered why she had dressed up in the first place. She turned back to the mirror, a frown on her face.

Eris, of course, noticed it. Moving to stand behind her and meeting her eyes in the mirror, he hugged her from the back. "What happened darling? Is something the matter?"

She shook her head. "I'm just a little..."

"Nervous?"

"You could say that."

"We can stay here if you want. I will write to them–"

"No." She cut him off. "This would affect the alliance, especially since Rhysand and Feyre would be looking for any opportunity to launch a war."

"Then we can go to war, my heart. Your comfort comes before all else."

She smiled and turned to him. "I'm glad for that, my love. However, it is necessary that I prioritise the future of Autumn Court. What kind of High Lady would I be if I didn't care for my subjects' wellbeing?"

He smiled and kissed her cheeks. "My darling High Lady. So, are you ready?"

"Not really, but let's get this done with."

He extended his arm to her. As soon as she took it, they began to walk out the door.

But something caught her attention when she spied the guards who would accompany them today. They weren't Eris's personal guards, the ones he trusted. Y/n tugged on her mates sleeves, making him stop.

"Yes?"

She tilted her head towards the guards. "They are new. They are not your guards."

Eris nodded. "Apparently, my brothers seem to think that these guards are better suited to safeguarding us. They are old and trained, seasoned from centuries of working for my father."

As he said those words, Y/n had the feeling that he was also questioning the reason these males were coming with them.

He still didn't trust his brothers, and, despite his advisors telling him to get rid of them, he didn't. He wouldn't, not unless they gave him a reason to.

The pit of dread in her deepened.

She didn't have a good feeling about this.

•○🌑○•

Y/n smiled politely as she talked to her sister. Nesta. Feyre was sitting on her throne.

Her heart was hammering in her ear, and she had become more and more panicked than when she started the evening. The weird feeling that something really bad was about to happen lurked about her being, and she wondered where her mate was.

She tried to look around, her breathing becoming shorter when she didnt find him anywhere in the crowded hall.

Where the hell is he?

"Are you okay?" Nesta gave her an assessing look, her eyes all seeing.

Y/n nodded. "It's just, I've never been away from Eris for long periods of time since before we were mated. Especially in crowded areas. And you know how I hate crowds. And I have also been feeling nauseated since the evening. I'm sure it's nothing..."

She realised she was rambling and Nesta probably wasn't interested in Y/n's wellbeing. So she shut herself up and again looked around, tugging on the bond.

In an instant, Eris's arm was around her waist and he smiled down at her.

"My heart?"

Relief spread through her as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. "Eris."

"Are you alright?"

She shook her head against him. "Too crowded. Too many people. And you weren't near..." She mumbled.

"Oh my darling, I am so sorry I left you alone. But I am here now. You want to go somewhere less crowded?"

She hummed against his warm skin, already calming.

"Come." He said, pulling away from her and turning to the doors. That was when Y/n noticed Rhysand and Cassian standing next to Nesta, eyeing the couple. She swallowed when Rhysand met her eyes before looking away from her in disgust.

It was obvious he would be disgusted, after all she had chosen the enemy over her own family.

She bowed her head, her insecurities rising again after months, and followed Eris to a secluded alcove nearby.

She kept her head lowered, wondering if her family hated her, but then she felt Eris's hand on her chin, and all her worries started ebbing away.

"Hey." He whispered softly, giving her a small smile. "Are you alright?"

"I... don't know."

"It's okay. Talk to me."

"I–I don't know why but... I'm feeling... weird? Like, since the moment we left for here, I've had this feeling that something is about to go wrong and–" her chest heaved and she pressed herself against him, needing his warmth to keep her in the present.

"Hey, hey, nothing is going to go wrong. Don't worry my heart, everything will be fine."

He kissed her head, smoothing his hand down her hair as he murmured sweet nothings onto the top of her head.

A few moments later, she finally calmed. But the dread was still there, like an unwanted guest who refused to leave.

Y/n looked up at her mate, her beautiful, amazing mate. He smiled down at her.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better. But still Eris, what if something happens?"

He shook his head. "If something happens, I'll be there to handle it."

She sighed. "I know I sound stupid and stubborn–"

"No you don't. It's just your instincts, and there is nothing wrong with feeling that way. We'll be more careful of what is going on around us, and nothing will happen. I promise."

She smiled at him. This was why she loved him.

Before she had left with him, her family always found ways to make her doubt herself. If she suggested an idea, they would look down on it, saying she should stay quiet when she knew nothing about the matter. She had become extremely insecure about herself since then, and tried to stay quiet all the time.

Eris made her realise her worth and brought her back from the dark pit she had descended into.

"I love you." She whispered.

"I love you more, my heart."

As soon as they left the alcove, the were faced with the whole of inner circle staring them down, as if they had been waiting to pounce on her and her mate. Even Feyre and Mor were there.

Her grip tightened on Eris's hand, and he squeezed back.

"Feyre." She smiled tentatively, wondering if it was the right thing to do.

"Y/n." Feyre nodded stiffly. "Would you like to come with us? We wanted to talk to you, catch up on the events of the past months. See how things were going in the Autumn Court. Just us ladies." Y/n glanced at Eris. He eyed the females, namely Feyre, Nesta and Mor. "Don't worry about him. He'll be occupied with the males. Right Eris?"

She didn't want to go. The only place she wanted to go to was back home. "Um I..."

Everyone's eyes seemed to narrow on her mate, who said nothing.

"Is something the matter?"

She shook her head. "I just don't feel well. I... guess I'll come with you."

The females of the inner circle led her away, out the court room, up a staircase.

By the time they reached the landing of the fourth floor, Y/n's chest was heaving. "Where are we going?"

The three ladies looked at each other before Nesta sighed. "Look, we wanted to talk to you away from him. There isn't a particular place we had in mind."

Immediately, Y/n's blood chilled. She looked around. "What are you trying to say? What did you want to talk about?"

"Y/n... look, the bond seems to be clouding your judgement. He is not the male you think he is. He is manipulating–" Feyre started.

Y/n heaved a sigh. "He. Is. Not. Neither is the bond clouding my judgement."

"You wouldn't realise even if he was manipulating you. So, please let me in your mind. If the bond isn't clouding your mind and he isnt manipulating you, then we will satisfied."

" I married him of my own free will. How many times do I have to say that to get you to fucking understand?"

Silence descended. Unfortunately, it was only for a moment. "Did you– did you just curse?"

Y/n laughed, tired of their presumptions about her. "Why is that so shocking? Hmm? Is it because Elain never curses?" Mor opened her mouth, but Y/n didn't give anyone a chance to speak. "You don't even know what kind of a person I am. You just assumed that because I am Elain's twin, I'll have a similar personality as hers. You never bothered to ask me about my thoughts, always thinking that I was some naive little girl who knew nothing of what she was talking about."

"I– we never–"

"Yeah Feyre, you never."

Before she, or anyone, for that matter, could say or do anything, a scream sounded from below, followed by more.

Y/n turned to look down the stairs through the small opening over the railing. Her sisters and Mor did the same.

There was nothing noticeable accept the red glow on the walls on the bottom most floor.

Her heart picked up again, sweat coating her hands.

The screams got louder, and the glow became more evident as the moments passed.

When she felt a tug on the bond and a pulse of panic from Eris's side, it clicked.

Fire.

This place was on fire.

Shit.

The sound of clanking armor and the soldiers scrambling up the staircase made the the four females draw back from the railings edge. The soldiers made a ring formation around the three females of the inner circle, a few soldiers advancing on Y/n.

She looked at them confused.

It was Nesta who screeched when a soldier raised his sword. "What the hell do you think you are doing! She is our sister, stop advancing on her!"

"Ordered by the High Lord. Catch the enemy. The traitor and his wife."

"She is not the enemy! She is my sister!" Nesta cried out, trying to push her way through the protective circle while Y/n tried to find a way out. She was now pressed against the wall opposite the railing, and she ran her hands against the wall for something to protect herself with.

"That was why she was so nervous. And why she didnt want to come with us. She wanted to get away before the fire started." Feyre's eyes were wide and she pointed an accusing finger in Y/n's direction.

"Why– how can you even think that?! Eris would never do such a thing! I would never–"

"No one is ever going to trust you! Especially when you are a ruler of autumn Court. You married a manipulator, a monster. What are the odds that you haven't become the same in his company?"

"Feyre! Watch your tongue!" Nesta yelled, her eyes pleading. She turned to Y/n. "Tell her it's not true. Tell her you weren't the one who orchestrated this. Tell her!"

As soon as Y/n opened her mouth, her hand closed around something. A rod?

She didn't care, as long as she could use it to defend herself.

She pulled it in front of her, holding it like a sword. And then, just the way Eris had taught her, she leapt forwards, the black iron rod clutched tight in her hands.

The guards were not expecting it, and so the first one was disarmed quickly. She dropped her weapon in favour of picking the sword of the disarmed soldier, who then pulled out another sword hanging down his back and began charging at her.

She tried to hold him off while Nesta did her best to try and stop the males from cornering her.

But it wasn't enough. And there was only one way to stop them.

And she did what was needed.

She didn't care for her life as much as she did for Eris and the pain that he wpuld go through if he lost her. That, and the Autumn Court.

She raised the sword, and in one long, clean strike, severed the head of the closest guard. It stopped others from advancing, at least for a moment.

Y/n tugged on the bond once, but his side seemed to be closed off.

"The High Lord said she didn’t know how to fight." One of the guards said.

"She didn't. Unless, her bastard of a husband taught her." Mor stared at her in disdain.

"What are you waiting for?! Get her!" Feyre ordered, and at once the guards moved.

And so began the killing spree.

•○🌑○•

Eris's pov.

He cut through the men trying to ambush him as he tried to get to his mate. They had taken her somewhere away from him, the reason being unknown but he had an inkling.

So they could convince her to abandon him.

He had been panicked when he realised what was going on. The fire had been started by the men he had brought with him because of his brothers.

Those bastards. He was going to rip them apart when he found them. But that would happen if he was able to escape this hell hole. And for that, he needed to find his wife.

He had known that maybe her sisters were trying to persuade her into leaving him, and selfishly he had wished that she wouldn't leave him. But when the fire started, he realised that she probably would think that he was the one who orchestrated it.

So he had closed off the bond, giving her free will to leave him if she wanted without knowing what he felt. Because, knowing his wife, if she knew he was sad, she'd go to extreme lengths to make him happy. And that would mean staying with him even if she didn't want to.

And he knew he didn't deserve her anyway. She was too good for a bastard like him. It was only a matter of when, not if, she left him.

Just as he reached the staircase, his body locked up.

There she was, running down the stairs, holding her tattered gown in one hand and a bloody sword in another.

He didn't blink, couldn't, as he watched her cut down the men standing in her way.

He watched, fascinated, as she looked up from the male she was currently decapitating.

Her features relaxed, and she hurried down towards him.

The wall he had put up on his side of the bond wasn't strong enough to hold off the flood of relief from her side.

He almost went to his knees before his wife, his goddess. One he had done nothing to be blessed with.

When she was within arms length, she let go of her gown and threw herself at him. He stumbled back, but didn't let go of her.

"Oh mother! Are you okay?!" She questioned, pulling back and running her hands over his shoulder and torso, looking for injuries, all while he stood there staring at her like an idiot.

When he didn't reply, she looked up and snapped her fingers in his face.

That finally got him moving. "I'm fine. But I feel like I should be the one asking that. You look like you've just walked through a blood pond."

At that, she laughed. "We should leave before someone catches us. Come." She began tugging her away, but he held his ground.

"You– you still want to come with me?"

Her brows furrowed. "What do you mean? Why would I not want that?"

Eris didn't know how to respond. Thankfully, she knew him too well by now and knew what he was thinking.

She stepped closer, bringing a hand up to his jaw, searching his eyes. "Eris," she began softly. "I. Love. You. And I want to be with you. I'll never leave you, even if you beg me to. I'll forever haunt you."

He huffed out a laugh and she smiled.

"They were trying to persuade you to leave me, weren't they?"

Y/n nodded. "They can try."

"I could've been the one to start the fire." He pointed out, and the selfish part of him screamed in outrage.

"We're pretty sure it was him." Rhys spoke from behind Eris. He glanced back stiffly, finding the whole inner circle present.

But Y/n ignored him.

She only spoke to Eris.

"And? Your point being? I don't care if you were the one who started the fire. All I care for is you. Us. I wish you could get that through your thick skull."

She murmured before rising up on her toes and capturing his lips.

When she pulled away, Feyre spoke up. "Y/n, because you are family, we'll give you one chance. Come back to us, and you'll be safe. Go with him, and we'll destroy you along with Autumn Court."

"That's all you do, isn't it Feyre? Destroy courts for petty reasons. First Spring, and now Autumn. Do you ever stop?"

"Watch your tongue Y/n." Rhys snarled.

But it was all a ruse on Y/n's part, because suddenly, the wards were broken, and Eris felt his mate's hand in his, tugging urgently.

So he did as she wanted him to. Winnowed her away.

•○🌑○•

As soon as they appeared in a forest near Autumn Court's border, Y/n turned away and heaved the contents of her stomach on the grass. Eris held back her hair and rubbed her back before she collapsed on the grass.

After a few moments of silence, she started laughing. Eris looked at her incredulously, but her laughter was contagious, and so he followed her, lying next to her on the grass and laughing.

"Aren't you a clever little fox. That was amazing." He muttered when their laughter had fied down. He brushed his fingers against hers, feeling a smile lifting the corners of his lips.

"The bloodshed?"

"The breaking of wards. The bloodshed too."

She hummed happily. After a pause, she turned to Eris.

"I know it wasn't you Eris."

He didn't have to agrre to that, so he didn't. "There will be a war." He mumbled.

She nodded. "I know."

"You should have stayed back. With them."

"I would never do that."

"You could die here–"

"And I could also die there. At least if I die here, I'd have died for something good. And I dont care if I die."

His throat clogged. He just whispered one word.

"Why?"

She smiled, resting her head on his chest.

"Because I love you, you dumbass. We'll get through this together."

He nodded, even though she could not see.

"Together."

•○🌑○•

General taglist: @eos-princess @bubybubsters @nightless

[drinkingcoffee-inthedark]

i love u lucien vanserra

[ennawrite]

Made this Lucien edit to ‘the prophecy’ by Taylor Swift. I just know his POV is going to absolutely break me. I’m not sure if I’m ready for it LMAOOO

[sapchat]

Eris lineage

So I’m writing something right now and I’m rereading parts of ACOWAR to get the direct quotes and shit and I’m at the part where they visit Keir and Eris visits the Hewn City. What are the chances that Eris isn’t Berons son?

Feyre says he hunted her down like an animal and this is how Eris responds:

Eris’s pale face flushed. “I was given an order. And sent to do it with two of my … brothers.”

“And what of the brother you hunted down alongside me? The one whose lover you helped to execute before his eyes?”

He hesitates when he says brothers. We can infer that he doesn’t really care for them with how he acts but this also helps that statement. He seems to hesitate to call them his brothers which could be a way to distance himself from them and how cruel they are.

But we can also see he cares for Lucien more because Eris likely knows that he has no chance at the Autumn throne with being Helions son because he gets him out of the Autumn court

He even tells Feyre she knows nothing, emphasizing on the nothing too, about that day and then he tells her he’s the one that tipped Tamlin off about him being near the border.

Like I know it’s unlikely cuz Eris is very obviously next in line but we also know the succession can change with families by us know Mor’s family used to run the Night court and somewhere down the line Rhys’ family became the more powerful line.

But we also know that Lady Autumn has had an affair once, what’s to say that Helions the only one slept with. She obviously has the capability to weld fire based on Lucien (which bitch got lucky there damn) but that could also be why she wasn’t afraid at having Lucien. She knows that he’ll have fire abilities because it’s already happened once before with Eris. That’s why she had no real fear about sleeping with Helion.

Who’s to say she didn’t sleep with a sibling or cousin of Beron who could’ve become High Lord if Beron died without an heir. That could still make Eris powerful enough for line of succession to recognize him as next ruler.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Organized by @erisweekofficial

Day 1: Bonds/Bargains

Until I see you again (Eris x OC)

Day 2: Childhood/Legacy

Big brother (Eris & Lucien Vanserra)

Day 3: Healing/Betrayal

Hold me tight (Eris x OC)

Day 4: Tradition/Hounds

Double trouble (Eris & smokehounds)

Day 5: War/Adventure

Day 6: AU/Retellings

Day 7: Free Day

A/N: I didn't expect to have so many fictions as I had only two prepared. But on Saturday evening certain things happened and I ended up writing another two fictions in the last minute again🙃

[animezinglife]

I sincerely hope the reason SJM has gradually brought Helion more into the books--and into some extremely sensitive situations--leans more towards adding him to the extended family and not building up our affections of him only to kill him off later on.

Lucien would make a wonderful High Lord. However, he doesn't need to be one to be worthy of love, good fortune, and an overall wonderful, happy life.

I would hate to see Helion get killed off just so his already-wonderful, worthy-of-everything-good son takes a High Lord title.

If there's another method of handling that I'm all for it, but I don't want to see Helion harmed in the process.

[separatist-apologist]

Working ahead on SaS wishing I could drop this next chapter

[silly--fangirl]

the thing about sunny days is the fact that they remind me of Lucien

and from one perspective it's a good thing: i get to daydream about him a lot as it's getting warmer AND I LOVE DOING JUST THAT

but on the other hand: i smile the whole time i'm thinking about Lucien and i'm pretty sure there were men who thought i was smiling at them

so: no, XYZ. i don't want you. what i want is my pretty sunshine fae gentleman who'd give me the moon on a string if i gave him a kiss AND has fire in his blood

[surielstea]

Dancing With Fate - 11

Read part one here.

Pairing: Nyx Archeron x TamlinsDaughter!Reader

Summary: Reader and Nyx meet again, this time exploring Velaris—and much more about their fates are revealed.

Warnings: Minor conflict, protective parents, forbidden love, and some kissing 👀

A.Note: I haven’t posted since last yearrr I am so sorry to all of you, but part two is finally here!! I hope you guys enjoy, it’s a little bit more fast paced but I wanted to speed it along so I could get to the actual good stuff. Make sure you read part one prior to this!

Word count: 7.1k

I was in my bedroom, rereading a book for the sixth time. It was the least favorite on my shelf, worn only from idle desperation rather than love. Father didn't often take me out to buy new books; when he did, it was always after much coaxing. I could go without him, but only with a sentry trailing me. And I hated inconveniencing them with what he called my "silly hobby." So, I waited until my father needed something from the town, and then I'd quietly slip a purchase into our errands.

It had been a week—exactly seven days—since the ball at the Dawn Court. Since I'd talked with a stranger until sunrise. It was strange, missing someone whose name I didn't even know. But I did. I missed the way he teased me, the way I could be me with him—unguarded and, for once, unjudged. My chest ached at the memory, yet I forced my attention back to the book in my lap, pretending not to notice how hollow the words felt tonight.

"I could take you to the bookstore, you know."

I jolted upright at the sudden intrusion in my mind, my breath catching at the unfamiliar—yet eerily familiar—cool tone.

"Who's there?" My whispered words sounded absurd even to me, as I scanned my empty room for a presence that couldn't possibly be real. My pulse thundered, but no one appeared.

"In your head, princess," the voice replied smoothly, amusement curling through every syllable.

My breath hitched. That voice... his voice.

"How are you doing that?" I whispered, my grip tightening on the book.

"Daemati powers," he answered, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

Daemati. My thoughts raced. Only a few could wield that kind of power, and even fewer had the skill to enter a mind from such a distance, wherever he was. The realization sent a shiver down my spine. "Get out of my head."

"Let me take you to the bookstore, and I will."

"I can't go out." The words came out sharp, though I wasn't sure whether I was speaking to him or to myself. "My father would—"

"Your father isn't home, is he?" he interrupted, his voice dipping into a dry hum. "Come now, are there wards locking you in?"

"No," I admitted, frowning, disliking that he already knew that fact.

"Chains on your doors or windows?"

"No, but—"

"Then you can leave."

"It's not that simple," I snapped, then clamped my mouth shut, wincing at my own volume.

A quiet pause. Then, softly, "What happened to the girl I met at the ball? The one who wasn't afraid to sneak away and stay out until dawn?"

"This is manipulation," I grumbled, though my chest fluttered at the memory of that night.

"Is it working?" he purred, smug.

"Yes," I muttered under my breath, hating the warmth that pooled in my stomach.

"Good. Meet me at the Spring and Summer border."

Before I could argue, the connection snapped, leaving me alone in the quiet, moonlit room. I stared at the book in my lap, then closed it with a sharp thud and tossed it onto the bed.

I shouldn't do this. I couldn't do this.

And yet, I was already moving—slipping into boots, shrugging on my satchel, and inching my window open with careful fingers. The night air kissed my skin as I hoisted myself onto the sill, every creak of the frame sending a thrill of nervous energy through me as my feet planted on the roof below me.

The climb down the flower-covered lattice was agonizingly slow, the wooden structure groaning beneath my weight as I scaled the two-story descent. By the time my feet touched the ground, my heart was racing. I pressed myself into the shadows, my movements silent as I made my way past the lingering, half-awake sentries and through the edge of the wards.

Once outside, I winnowed. The magic tugged at my ribs, spinning me through space until I landed at the Spring and Summer border.

It wasn't hard to spot him. He was already there, leaning casually against a sunstone pillar, his wings catching the moonlight like black silk. Shadows played along the sharp lines of his face, accentuating the curve of his mouth as he smiled—a sharp, knowing thing that made my steps falter.

"Evening, princess," he drawled, pushing off the pillar with an ease that made everything about him look so effortless.

"You know my title, but I still don't know your name," I replied, crossing my arms in a poor attempt to mask the way my heart stumbled at the sight of him.

His grin widened, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Let's keep it that way for now. Mystery suits us, don't you think?"

I rolled my eyes, but before I could retort, his hand shot out, plucking something from my hair. He held it up between two fingers—a small, pale pink rose. "You've got a knack for dramatic entrances," he said, twirling the flower.

"Must've fallen when I climbed down the lattice," I muttered, taking the rose from his hand, though my fingers brushed his for a beat longer than necessary.

His brow arched in mock surprise. "You mean to tell me flowers don't just grow from your hair? And here I thought you were a goddess in disguise."

"Don't be ridiculous." I snorted, very un-goddess-like. "This, however, I can do." I cupped the rose in my palm, letting a sliver of my magic flow into it.

The transformation was instant. Vines sprouted from the stem, curling down my wrist in an intricate dance, tiny buds blooming along their length. The rose gleamed in the moonlight, glowing faintly with the life I'd breathed into it.

His smirk faltered, replaced by wide-eyed wonder. The silver light of the moon reflected in his gaze as he leaned closer, studying the vines with an intensity that made heat crawl up my neck. "Impressive," he murmured, his voice softer now. "What else can you do?"

I met his gaze, a grin tugging at my lips. "I'll tell you when you explain how you're able to read my thoughts."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Touché," he said, the smirk returning as he straightened. He extended a hand toward me, his wings shifting slightly as if preparing for flight. "Shall we?"

"Go where?" I asked, tilting my head.

"To the bookstore, of course."

"At midnight?" My disbelieving laugh echoed in the quiet night. "They're all closed."

"Not in the Night Court." His grin turned wolfish, his wings flaring just enough to cast long shadows. "Come on, I'll show you."

I froze, my stomach twisting at the mention of his court. My voice dropped to a whisper. "The Night Court? I'm not allowed to go there. My father forbade it."

"Well," he said with a pointed glance at my boots, "he also forbade sneaking out, and yet, here we are."

His smile was the very definition of trouble, but it faltered when he caught the hesitation in my eyes. The sharp edges of his expression softened. "We don't have to. If you want, I'll winnow you right back to Spring. No harm done."

My lips parted to refuse. To tell him I couldn't, I shouldn't. But the way he watched me, that glint of challenge in his gaze, made something reckless and wild spark to life in my chest. Against every ounce of better judgment, I stepped forward and slipped my hand into his.

"No," I said softly. "I want to."

His fingers tightened around mine, warmth spreading up my arm. "Just one question before we go," I said, my voice light but curious.

"Anything," he replied, his tone low and almost teasing.

"Are there monsters in the libraries there? Creatures made of nightmares?"

His chuckle was deep and smooth, like a shadow curling around the edges of my thoughts. "Bryaxis?" He grinned. "They're a friend."

I stared at him, horrified and awed all at once. "You made friends with a nightmare?"

He tugged me closer, a wicked gleam lighting his face. "Oh, princess," he murmured, his voice dipping into something darker, more thrilling. "You have no idea the company I keep."

Before I could say another word, the world dissolved into darkness.

—

The Night court wasn't the stories my father had told me as a child at all. Tales of monsters crawling from the shadows and winged creatures coming to steal me away. Rather, it was breathtaking, even at first glance. The scent of night-blooming jasmine filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of laughter and music drifting from nearby streets. Lanterns hung in the air like suspended stars, casting a warm, golden glow over the cobblestone paths and vibrant market stalls.

I stumbled slightly as we landed, but Nyx's hand tightened around mine, steadying me. "Easy there, princess," he murmured, the warmth of his voice grounding me.

I glanced at our joined hands, but he made no move to let go, so I didn't pull away.

"This... this is the Night Court?" I whispered, my voice a mix of awe and disbelief.

"Velaris," he corrected softly, his gaze flicking over the streets like it was a lover's touch. "The City of Starlight."

I didn't know where to look first. Everything was alive, vibrant, yet somehow soothing, like the city itself was breathing. The Night Market stretched out before us, a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. Vendors called out to passing patrons, their stalls brimming with everything from exotic spices to delicate jewelry and hand-woven silk.

"You live here?" I asked, glancing up at him.

"Sometimes," he said vaguely, a shadow of a smirk tugging at his lips.

We began to walk, and almost immediately, heads started to turn. A merchant at a nearby stall beamed when she saw him. "Haven't seen you in weeks, boy!" she called, waving a hand towards us.

He shot the vendor a look, though it wasn't unkind. "Evening, Mrs. Fowley," he said quickly, guiding me forward before I could ask more questions.

But then another vendor spotted him. And another. Each one greeted him like an old friend, their faces lighting up as if his presence alone had brightened their evening.

"Back again, lad?" one called.

"Nyx, come here," Their voice cut through the chatter of the market. His steps faltered, his head turning toward the sound.

"Nyx?" I asked, my curiosity piqued as he guided me toward the voice, his hand still warm and steady in mine.

His eyes flicked down to meet mine, a grin tugging at his lips. "Cat's out of the bag, I suppose."

"Bat's out of the bag," I quipped, gesturing to the wings folded neatly behind him.

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Well, aren't you clever," he said dryly, though the corners of his mouth twitched, betraying his amusement.

"Who's this pretty girl?" a female asked as we approached, the same one who had called him over. She held a tray of pastries, her expression kind and curious.

He—Nyx—looked at me then, really looked, with an intensity that made my cheeks warm. Before he could answer, a group of giggling girls stumbled down the path, one of them brushing past me and bumping me forward into his chest.

"My girlfriend," he said smoothly, his arm curling around my waist, pulling me closer.

I blinked up at him, startled by his words, but as I caught the wide-eyed, dismayed looks from the group of girls, understanding dawned.

"Ah, careful with this one, love. Just like his father with the ladies," the baker teased her tone light and amused as she gave me a playful wink. Nyx's arm tightened slightly around my waist at her words.

"Here, take a sweet. For whatever trouble he puts you through," she said, plucking a chocolate-covered croissant from her tray with a pair of tongs and holding it out to me.

I hesitated for a moment before accepting the pastry, a blush creeping up my cheeks. "Thank you, Miss," I said softly, my fingers brushing hers as I took the treat.

She waved me off with a warm smile. "Call me Ressina. I run this stand for his aunt's bakery, and I have a feeling I'll be seeing more of you."

I nodded, smiling. "I hope so," I said sincerely, her kindness making the bustling market feel a little less overwhelming.

"Go on, then," she said, shooing us away. "Don't let me keep you."

Nyx didn't need to be told twice. His hand remained firm at my waist as he steered me back down the path, away from the stand.

I glanced up at him, raising a brow as I bit into the croissant. The pastry was perfect—flaky, buttery, and rich with chocolate that melted on my tongue. I made a quiet, appreciative sound before speaking. "You're popular, aren't you?"

He cleared his throat, quickening his pace as though trying to escape the conversation. "They're just friendly here."

"Friendly?" I teased, a mischievous lilt in my voice. "You must be their favorite customer—or maybe something more. Should I be jealous?"

His wings twitched, and a faint blush crept up his neck. "Are you jealous, princess?"

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Hardly," I grumbled before taking another large bite of the delectable pastry.

"The baker is a family friend," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "She seemed to like you."

"Plenty seem to like you," I muttered under my breath, finishing the last bite of the pastry. "Boyfriend?"

He cringed slightly, his expression sheepish. "Sorry. Those girls have been following me for weeks. I didn't want you to have to deal with them."

I grinned, delighting in his discomfort. "You know, if you wanted to keep a low profile, you're not doing a very good job of it," I mumble, finishing off the croissant and debating licking my fingers since it was so delicious.

He shot me a sidelong glance, his smirk returning with a wicked edge. "Jealousy looks good on you, princess."

I rolled my eyes, but the warmth spreading across my cheeks betrayed me.

We turned a corner, the bustle of the market fading behind us as we approached a cozier part of the street. Nyx slowed his pace, guiding me toward a small building nestled between two larger shops. A golden sign hung above the door, marking it as a bookshop.

I paused, taking in the sight. The windows glowed softly, and through the glass, I could see shelves upon shelves of books, their spines glinting like hidden treasures. My heart swelled at the sight.

Nyx pulled the door open, motioning for me to step inside. "After you."

The scent of parchment and ink greeted me like an old friend, mingling with the faint aroma of spiced tea. The warmth of the shop wrapped around me, inviting and comforting, as though it had been waiting just for us.

I turned to him, my lips parting to thank him, but he spoke first. "Go on. Find something you like."

His voice was softer now, the teasing edge replaced by something gentler. I hesitated for only a moment before stepping further in, my fingers trailing over the spines of books as I wandered through the aisles.

Nyx followed at a distance, his hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze steady on me.

"You brought me all this way for a book," I said over my shoulder, smiling. "You're either very kind or very strange."

"Can't I be both?" he replied, his smirk resurfacing as he leaned casually against a nearby shelf.

I shook my head, letting myself get lost in the rows of stories, their endless possibilities calling to me.

-

I let my fingers dance along the spines of the books, tracing gilded titles and worn leather bindings. Each shelf seemed to hum with stories waiting to be told. A soft sigh escaped me, my heart swelling with quiet contentment.

Behind me, Nyx's footsteps were faint, his presence unobtrusive but unmistakable. I could feel his gaze, watchful and steady, as I explored.

"Find something?" he asked after a while, his voice softer now, almost reverent in the quiet of the shop.

"Not yet," I admitted, my fingers pausing on a particularly beautiful hardback, still pristine and painted gold along its edges. I tilted my head, reading the title.

A smile tugged at my lips. "This seems interesting."

Nyx stepped closer, his warmth brushing against my back as he peered over my shoulder. "Good choice," he murmured, his breath stirring the hair near my temple.

I turned slightly, catching his gaze. "Do you read?"

"Of course," he said, mock offense coloring his tone. "What, do I not seem the type?"

I bit back a grin, holding the book against my chest. "You seem like the type to skim for interesting bits and skip the rest."

His grin turned wicked. "What can I say? I’ve never been one for small talk,"

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the shelves, but his laughter followed me.

"Here," he said after a moment, reaching past me. His arm brushed mine as he plucked a slim, leather-bound book from the shelf. He held it out, his eyes gleaming.

I took it from him, studying the worn cover. Lost Letters Between Lovers. I shot him a look, heat creeping into my cheeks.

His smirk deepened. "Thought it might be useful for you. In case you needed inspiration."

"For what exactly?" I asked, raising a brow.

"Winning me over," he said smoothly, his wings giving a small flick.

I laughed, shaking my head. "You've got it all wrong. I'm the one who needs convincing."

"Is that right?" he drawled, his voice low and amused.

I turned back to the shelves, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing the flush that had spread down my neck.

After a few more moments of browsing, I found another book that caught my eye. I tucked it under my arm, satisfied.

"Done?" Nyx asked, his tone deceptively casual.

"For now," I said, turning to him. He tilted his head toward the counter, gesturing for me to follow.

The shopkeeper, an elderly male with spectacles perched on the end of his nose, greeted us warmly. "Nyx, my boy. Bringing someone special to the shop, I see."

I froze, suddenly hyperaware of Nyx standing beside me. His hand brushed against mine as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a few coins.

"Just passing through, Mr. Tylan," he said smoothly, though there was a faint pink tinge to his cheeks.

Mr. Tylan chuckled knowingly. "Well, it's about time you brought a girl around, the missus and I were beginning to grow doubtful you’d ever meet the one.” He breathes through his nose as he speaks, expert hands wrapping the books in brown paper. “She has excellent taste."

Nyx handed over the payment before I could even think to rummage through my bag, his voice a touch gruff as he replied, "She does."

I glanced at him, startled by the sincerity in his tone. He didn't meet my gaze, instead picking up the small stack of books and tucking them under his arm.

"Come on," he said, inclining his head toward the door.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Tylan,” I say with a soft smile as Nyx ushers me out the door.

“See you around, dear,” He gives me a simple wave.

It was odd, how anxious Nyx seemed in a place as welcoming as this. Everyone was friendly, and everyone knew him, perhaps he was afraid we’d run into the wrong set of people.

The cool night air greeted us as we stepped outside, the lively sounds of the market drifting faintly in the distance. Nyx fell into step beside me, the books still cradled in one arm.

"You didn't have to buy these for me," I said softly as he held them out to me, though he seemed more than willing to continue carrying them for me.

He shrugged, his wings shifting slightly as I took them and stuffed them into my bag. "I wanted to."

I studied him for a moment, the quiet confidence in his stride, the way the moonlight danced across his features. "You're not as insufferable as you pretend to be," I said, smiling.

His lips twitched. "Don't let it go to your head, princess."

We walked in comfortable silence for a while, the books pressing against my side with a comforting weight. Finally, I glanced at him, curiosity tugging at me.

"Why did you bring me here?"

He hesitated, his steps faltering for just a moment before he recovered. "You seemed like the type who'd like it. Thought it might make you smile."

I stared at him, warmth blooming in my chest. "You thought right."

His smirk softened into something gentler, something more real. "Good."

As we reached the edge of the market, I found myself wishing the night didn't have to end.

"Nyx," I called softly, stopping in my tracks.

He turned, dark brows lifting in question, the moonlight catching in his vibrant blue eyes.

"Thank you. For tonight," I said, the words carrying more weight than I expected.

His gaze held mine, something unspoken flickering between us. Then he smiled, and it felt as if the stars themselves had leaned in to listen.

"You think it's over already?" he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.

I tilted my head, curiosity piqued. "What else could you possibly have planned?"

He glanced skyward, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he slid his hand into mine, his grip warm and steady, and winnowed us away.

The world shifted. The cool night air nipped at my skin, sharper here, and I realized we were higher—much higher. Thin air filled my lungs as I took in our new surroundings.

"Where are we?" I asked, turning in place. Encircling us were jagged rock formations, a barren beauty carved by time.

"Look up," he said simply.

I frowned but obeyed, tipping my head back. My breath hitched as the heavens unfolded above me, brighter and closer than I'd ever seen them. The stars weren't merely distant pinpricks of light—they blazed like fireflies caught in an eternal dance, constellations shimmering with unmatched clarity.

"Beautiful," I whispered, unaware the word had even left me.

"Indeed," he murmured.

I turned to him, startled to find him already staring at me. His gaze held the same reverence I felt for the stars, and my heart skipped.

I managed a soft smile, then let my eyes drift back upward, unable to tear myself away from the galaxy stretched endlessly above.

"Come here," he said gently, tugging my hand.

Only then did I realize we were still connected, his touch grounding me even as my mind reeled at the beauty around us. He led me to a rocky outcropping, the path winding into a shallow cave. For a moment, the stars disappeared behind the jagged stone ceiling, and I frowned.

But then we emerged into an open chamber, a perfect circle carved into the roof. It was as though someone had reached into the earth and torn a hole, desperate to preserve this view of the night sky. The chamber's walls cradled us, offering shelter without stealing the stars.

Nyx guided me to a makeshift bench—a cluster of smooth, square stones—and sat. I followed, still entranced, my gaze drawn skyward as if bewitched.

"I used to come here when I was younger," he said after a moment of quiet. His voice was low, intimate in the stillness. "I'd forgotten about it until tonight. You reminded me it existed."

I tore my eyes from the sky to glance at him, curiosity tugging at me. "How could anyone forget a place like this?"

He smiled faintly. "It was my escape from, everything. My family. Expectations. I needed somewhere I could breathe."

I nodded, turning my attention back to the stars. "I get the feeling."

He bumped his shoulder against mine, drawing my gaze once more. "No one else knows about it. But I thought maybe you'd need a place like this, too."

Warmth bloomed in my chest, his words wrapping around me like a soft blanket. I glanced at him, and again, he was already staring at me.

I arched a brow. "You have a staring problem, you know."

His lips curved into a smirk. "Do I? I hadn't noticed."

I rolled my eyes, chuckling as I leaned my head against his shoulder.

Together, we gazed upward. He traced the constellations with his words, his voice soft and steady, while his thumb brushed gentle circles over the back of my hand. Each star above felt like it had been hung there just for us, as if the universe had paused to watch this quiet moment unfold.

For the first time in a long time, I felt peace.

"Nyx?" I asked softly after a few beats of silence.

He tensed ever so slightly at the sound of his name, a shiver rolling through him. I told myself it was because of the chill in the air.

"Hmm?"

"Who are you, really?"

His breathing slowed at my question, as if he were recalibrating, regaining control of a situation he hadn't anticipated losing.

"I have a feeling," I began, "that the power you used to peek into my head knows my lineage. It's only fair I know who you are, too."

He glanced at me, a cocky, almost childish smirk playing on his lips—a look that said, I'm not telling.

"Come on," I groaned, throwing my free hand out in frustration. His other hand still held mine, warm and steadfast. He hadn't let go, and I didn't want to, either.

"Don't you like a bit of mystery?" he teased.

"It's not a mystery when you already know who I am," I countered, arching a brow.

"Fair point, Princess."

Heat crept up my neck at the nickname, one he'd used since the beginning—since before he'd seen into my thoughts.

"You knew," I murmured, realization dawning. My voice wavered, the words trembling like brittle leaves in the wind. "You've known I'm a High Lord's daughter all along. That's why you're entertaining this, isn't it?"

I pulled my hand from his and stood abruptly, my heart hammering in my chest.

His brows furrowed as he looked up at me, confusion—and something like hurt—flashing in his eyes. "What?"

"Don't play clueless now." My voice rose, a mixture of anger and humiliation bubbling to the surface. "You've known exactly who I am. That's why you're showing me the stars, why you're charming me. You're trying to secure a seat on my father's throne."

"You think I'm charming?" he quipped, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

I spluttered, words dying on my tongue. "That's not the point—"

"Look," he cut in, his tone steady but laced with urgency. "Yes, I've known who you were from the start. I won't deny that. But, Princess, believe me when I say the last thing I want is your father's throne."

"Why should I believe you?" I snapped, crossing my arms. "You've done nothing but lie to me since we met. Why should I trust anything you say now?"

"Because I didn't want you to see me differently," he admitted, his voice quieter now, raw. "Because of who I am."

I froze, my anger wavering. My voice softened. "And who, exactly, is that?"

"The heir to the Night Court," he said, the words falling from his lips like a confession he'd carried for too long.

The ground seemed to slip out from under me. My vision blurred for a heartbeat, but I blinked hard, willing myself to stay rooted in the moment.

My father had warned me relentlessly about the Lord of Night—engraved the warning into my mind until it became part of me. The Night Court was treacherous. Its people were dangerous.

But he lied about the court. About its beauty.

Perhaps he lied about its people, too.

"Gods, I’m sure a fool.” I sighed, putting everything together. “Nyx Archeron," I said slowly, his name foreign and familiar on my tongue.

He nodded, watching me intently. "When I approached you on the balcony, I didn't know who you were. I swear it. But as we talked, I got comfortable, let my power stretch a bit further. Halfway through the night, I realized who you were. But I... I didn't want to ruin it. I didn't want our parents' feud to dictate—this."

"This?" I asked faintly, though I didn't need clarification.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't want you to find out like this. I can take you home, if you'd prefer."

Disappointment weighed in his tone, a stark contrast to the teasing arrogance I'd grown used to.

I wasn't mad at him for his lineage—he had no control over that. I wasn't even mad he'd lied. I was mad he hadn't told me sooner. Mad that it cast a shadow over everything we'd shared tonight, turning our conversations into something that felt artificial.

My shoulders slumped, the fight leaving me as quickly as it had arrived. I lowered myself back onto the bench beside him.

"I want to start over," I said, my voice hesitant but firm.

Relief washed over his features, and he relaxed slightly, though he kept a cautious distance. "I'm sorry for lying," he said, his words softer now, more earnest. "I was, nervous."

Something told me that wasn't an emotion he felt often.

"I know," I said, surprising myself with how much I meant it. Perhaps I was the only person who could.

Taking a steadying breath, I turned to him. "It's nice to meet you, officially, Nyx," I said, a tentative smile tugging at my lips.

"Likewise, Princess," he replied, mirroring my smile.

And in the silence that followed, we both silently agreed to leave the past behind us, if only for tonight.

Nyx leaned back, resting his arms on the bench as he looked up at the stars. "You know, I've never interacted with someone who’s an heir too. Should I be bowing?"

I smirked, tilting my head as I looked at him. "Oh, absolutely. A bow is essential. Maybe even throw in a grand speech. Something like, It is my great honor to meet the Princess of the Spring Court."

"That's a tall order," he said, his lips curving into that infuriatingly smug grin. "Would a wink and a smile suffice?"

I scoffed, leaning forward and propping my chin on my hand. "You'd probably trip over your own feet if you tried to bow."

"Is that a challenge?" he asked, one brow arching in amusement.

"It's an educated guess," I shot back, crossing my arms.

He leaned in, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "You know, for someone who called me charming earlier, you're being awfully cruel."

Heat flooded my cheeks, but I refused to look away. "I said no such thing."

"Oh, you definitely did." He grinned, leaning even closer. "You think I'm charming. Admit it."

"Nyx—"

"Say it, Princess."

I narrowed my eyes, pretending to deliberate. "You know what? Fine. I think you're charming, in the same way a stray cat is charming when it's begging for food. Annoying, persistent, but kind of hard to ignore."

He chuckled, his shoulders relaxing fully, the tension leaving the both of us. "Fair enough. But if I'm a stray cat you're certainly a rabbit."

I blinked, caught off guard. "A rabbit?"

He nodded, his grin widening. "Cute, curious, and way too confident for your own good."

"Confident?" I repeated, laughing. "This coming from you? The heir of the Night Court who decided to winnow me across Prythian on a whim?"

"That was a calculated risk," he said smoothly, though the glint in his eyes gave him away.

"Calculated risk, my ass." I shook my head, unable to hide my grin. "You're lucky I haven't punched you yet."

"Oh, Princess," he drawled, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. "If you wanted an excuse to get your hands on me, you could've just asked."

I opened my mouth to retort, but the words caught in my throat. His proximity was... distracting.

The air shifted, the playful banter giving way to something quieter, heavier. His gaze locked on mine, and I swore the world shrank to just the two of us, the stars above fading into the background.

I cleared my throat, trying to ignore the way my heart was suddenly racing. "You're ridiculous."

"I offered to take you home," he said softly, his thumb brushing idly over the back of my hand and I wasn’t sure when they intertwined again, "and yet here we are." His tone was teasing, but there was something else beneath it. Something real.

I didn't answer, my throat suddenly tight. He was too close now, his presence overwhelming in a way that wasn't entirely unwelcome.

Before I could overthink it, his hand moved, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. His fingers lingered at my temple, his touch featherlight.

"Nyx..." I breathed, not even sure what I was about to say.

But he didn't answer—not with words. Instead, he leaned in, his lips brushing mine in the gentlest, softest kiss.

It was tentative, as if he wasn't sure if I'd pull away. But I didn't. I couldn't help but kiss him back. It was foreign, but filling me with a warmth similar to the sun's morning rays.

When he pulled back, his eyes searched mine, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

I shook my head, my thoughts a tangle of emotions. "We can't," I blurted, though my voice betrayed me with its lack of conviction.

"I know," he replied, his voice heavy with something that felt like regret—but also determination.

Our eyes remained locked, mere inches apart. We really couldn't, not with who we were, not with who our parents were.

Neither of us seemed to care at that moment, and I don't know if it was me or him who moved first, but suddenly his soft lips were back on mine.

This time, there was no hesitation. His hand cupped my jaw, pulling me closer as his lips claimed mine. It wasn't soft or shy anymore—it was raw, urgent, as though the world might end if he didn't kiss me harder.

I felt myself melt into it, my hands tangling in his hair as he deepened the kiss, his free hand moving to my waist to hold me steady. The air around us seemed to shift, thickening, crackling with an energy I couldn't place.

Then it happened.

A snap, like a tether locking into place.

I gasped against his lips but didn't move away, the sensation overwhelming as something warm and ancient bloomed deep in my chest, spreading through me like wildfire. It was hard to put into words, but suddenly I felt connected to the male against me, connected to his emotions, his thoughts, his very soul. Tethered. Bound.

Nyx pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against mine as his breath came in quick, uneven bursts. His eyes were wide, filled with equal parts wonder and disbelief.

"You felt that too," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I could only nod, my own breath shaking as I tried to process what had just happened.

The mating bond.

The realization settled between us like a living, breathing thing, as though it had been waiting for this exact moment to make itself known.

"Nyx," I began again, but he silenced me with a small, disbelieving chuckle.

He leaned in again, kissing me softly, the smile on his lips brushing against mine like a whispered secret. It was almost as if he couldn't stop himself, as if the bond was drawing him closer with every passing second. When he pulled back, his amusement lingered in his expression, though his eyes were heavy with the weight of what we'd just discovered.

"The gods have a cruel way of amusing themselves," he murmured, his voice laced with irony.

I sighed, our noses brushing as we remained impossibly close. "What are we supposed to do?"

"We'll figure it out," he reassured, his tone soft but certain. His hands, strong and steady, cradled my face, grounding me amidst the whirlwind of emotions coursing through me. "It doesn't have to change anything."

"But it will," I argued, my voice trembling.

"Yeah," he said quietly, his thumb tracing a soothing pattern against my cheek. "I know."

The ache in my chest was something new and raw, a longing that pulsed in time with the bond, an unspoken promise tying us together. It was overwhelming and comforting all at once. My eyes fluttered shut as I tried to sift through the torrent of thoughts crashing over me.

After a moment, his demeanor grew more serious, though his thumb continued its soothing path along my cheek. “We’ll need somewhere safe to be when we accept the bond.”

I tilted my head, my eyes fluttering open as I frowned at him

In confusion. “Safe?”

His lips quirked, a knowing look in his eyes. “I’ve heard stories of what happens to couples during The Frenzy. It’s, intense.”

A shiver ran through me at his words, not from the cold, but from the vivid images that his tone—and my imagination—conjured.

Nyx raised a brow, clearly catching the direction of my thoughts, but I quickly stammered, “Just cold.”

“Cold?” His smirk returned, though it was softer this time, laced with something tender. “Here.”

Without another word, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. The warmth of it enveloped me immediately, carrying his scent—fresh air, cedarwood, and something uniquely him.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low as his hands lingered for a moment, making sure the jacket sat snugly around me.

I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling too widely. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Princess,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on me for a beat longer than necessary before he settled back, his hand casually brushing against mine.

And just like that, the air between us shifted again—lighter, easier, yet still charged with something deeper.

“We’ll figure this out,” Nyx said softly, his confidence unwavering.

Looking at him now, his jacket around my shoulders and a small, reassuring smile on his lips, I knew he meant it.

And then, as if he couldn't resist, he kissed me again.

This one was gentle, hesitant, but filled with so much care it nearly unraveled me. His lips lingered on mine, soft and warm, making it impossibly hard to focus.

"Lucien," I blurted out, pulling back suddenly.

Nyx blinked, his brows furrowing at my abrupt shift. "What about him?"

An idea began to form, one I clung to like a lifeline. "Lucien—you know him, don't you?"

"He's married to my aunt," Nyx said cautiously, his tone laced with curiosity.

I nodded slowly, the pieces falling into place in my mind. "My father lets me visit the Day Court now that Lucien is ruling there. Maybe... maybe I can convince him to let me stay with Lucien for a while. You could find a reason to be there too."

His lips pressed into a thin line, his mind clearly racing through the implications. "And when you have to return to the Spring Court?" he asked, his voice measured.

"We'll figure it out then," I said, shaking my head. The thought of leaving him made my chest tighten painfully, but I pushed through the discomfort. "I just... I want this. I want us."

His answer was immediate, the conviction in his voice struck a chord deep within me. "I do too."

"Good," I said, a small, tentative smile forming on my lips. "Then tomorrow, I'll talk to my father. In the meantime, you can talk to me using your Daemati powers. Can't you?"

He nodded, his sapphire eyes softening as they roamed over my face.

"We'll be fine," I said, my voice steadier now, the words carrying a newfound determination.

Nyx mirrored my smile, and for a moment, it felt as though the world narrowed to just the two of us. This male—who had teased me, infuriated me, and unraveled me in the span of a week—had somehow wormed his way into my heart. And now, with the bond tying us together, I couldn't imagine life without him.

"Are we okay with Lucien and your aunt knowing?" I asked, my voice dropping to a whisper as the thought hit me.

"They'd be the first people I'd tell out of my entire family," he said without hesitation.

"Me too," I agreed softly.

His thumb brushed against my cheek again, his touch both soothing and electrifying. "We'll be fine," he repeated as if trying to convince us both.

But as he said it, I believed him.

The warmth between us lingered as we sat on the bench, the conversation flowing back into the easy rhythm of banter. He teased me about my lack of subtlety in staring, while I reminded him that he was the one who practically glowed under the moonlight, making it impossible not to.

But the night was growing late, and the weight of reality began to creep in.

"I should get you back to Summer's borders," Nyx finally said, his voice tinged with reluctance.

I sighed, not wanting the night to end, but I nodded. "You're right."

He stood and offered me his hand, which I took without hesitation. "Three days," I said as we began walking out of the cave. "Meet me in Day."

He smiled, a flash of teeth and mischief. "Three days."

—

When we reached the border, the air seemed heavier, more final. I turned to him, feeling the pull of the bond even as I prepared to leave. I shrugged off the jacket he had draped over my shoulders and held it out to him.

"Here," I said. "Take it back. If my father sees it, he'll have questions."

He crossed his arms, smirking. "Keep it."

I frowned. "Nyx—"

"Nope. You keep it. Hide it if you're worried about your father. Or don't. Either way, it gives me an excuse to see you again."

I gave him a flat look, but his smugness only deepened.

"Nyx," I repeated, more firmly this time, shoving the jacket into his chest.

He caught it easily but didn't take it. Instead, he stepped closer, his voice low and teasing. "Princess, if you give it back, I'll have no reason to track you down. And that would be such a shame."

I stared at him, torn between exasperation and amusement. His logic was infuriatingly charming, and the grin he wore told me he knew he was winning.

"Fine," I relented with a dramatic sigh, clutching the jacket back to my chest. "You win."

His smile softened into something warmer as he leaned down, brushing a kiss against my lips. It was quick, light, and left me wanting more.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice like a caress.

I huffed a laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly. "Don't push it."

But he kissed me again, this time slower, deeper, his hands sliding to my waist as he pulled me closer. I melted into him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as his lips moved against mine.

"Nyx," I whispered against his mouth, the word half a chuckle. "I have to go."

"One more," he murmured, his voice husky with need.

I hesitated, but the bond between us tugged insistently, and I found myself nodding. "Fine."

This time, he kissed me like he wanted me to remember it, to carry the taste of him back with me to Spring. His hands framed my face as his lips claimed mine, the kiss lingering, searing itself into my memory.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, his breathing uneven. "Three days," he whispered.

"Three days," I echoed, my voice soft, but my resolve firm.

With one last lingering glance, I winnowed back to Spring Court Manor, the taste of him still on my lips and his jacket clutched tightly in my hands.

My father was going to kill me.

Read part three here.

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[callsigns-haze]

Greatest treasure part 2

Summary: Eris, has been High Lord of Autumn for quite some time now, his son Azer who basically started his alliance with the Night Court is not an adorable three year old anymore but a minature version of him at the age of seventeen. Not only that but you two have a daughter now who is the flame in every situation. Eris keeps his alliances close to hear causing future meetings and drama.

Warning: Contains alcohol, cursing, teasing, mentions of smut, kissing, court politics, mentions of war, distress.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x reader

English is not my first language

18k words

This will be continued into a part 3

PART 1

14 Years Later

The Autumn Court had changed in ways no one could have predicted. What was once a kingdom shrouded in fear and cruelty had flourished under Eris’s reign. The court, though still sharp-edged and strong, had softened in places—particularly where its High Lord’s family was concerned.

Everyone knew now that Eris Vanserra had a soft spot. It wasn’t something he would ever admit outright, but the evidence was undeniable. His people had witnessed it in the way he looked at his wife, his unwavering devotion written in every lingering glance and fleeting touch. They saw it in the way he ruled—with a balance of fire and fairness, always ensuring his court’s prosperity. But more than anything, they saw it in his children.

Azer, now seventeen, was the perfect blend of his parents. He had Eris’s sharp features, his golden eyes, and his burning ambition. But he had your heart—the steady kindness you’d nurtured in him since he was small, the ability to wield fire not just with power, but with control. He was already well-known within the court, training among the finest warriors, his magic nearly as refined as his father’s. But his love for his family remained his greatest strength.

And then there was Avey. Seven years old, with her father’s striking hair and your soft smile, she had Eris wrapped around her little finger. While Azer had been kept secret for the first years of his life, Avey had been introduced to the court as soon as she was born—her presence a symbol of the new era Eris had brought. She was fierce, stubborn, and far too smart for her age, often found trailing after her brother and demanding to be included in whatever he was doing.

Tonight, the Vanserra family stood at the edge of the ballroom once more. Another gathering, another political affair—this one a celebration of Azer’s upcoming formal initiation into the court as its heir. It was a mere formality, as everyone already knew Azer would one day take his father’s place, but still, it was tradition.

Eris stood tall, his crown gleaming in the candlelight, his hand resting at the small of your back. Across the room, Lucien stood beside Helion, both watching the night unfold with an amused sort of ease. Avey, dressed in a deep autumnal red, clung to her brother’s arm, her face scrunched in frustration.

“This is boring,” she declared, crossing her arms over her chest.

Azer snorted, glancing down at her. “Did you come just to complain the whole night?”

“Yes,” she replied without hesitation.

Eris smirked, watching their exchange with quiet amusement. “She gets that from you,” he murmured under his breath to you.

You raised an eyebrow. “She gets that from you.”

Before he could argue, Avey tugged at Azer’s sleeve again. “Can we go now?”

“You can go,” he said with a shrug. “I have to stay.”

Avey pouted, looking up at you. “Mama?”

You shook your head with a smile. “Not this time, love.”

She huffed dramatically before turning to her father, her eyes big and pleading. “Daddy?”

Eris sighed, ruffling her curls. “You’re lucky I like you,” he murmured, bending down so they were at eye level. “Go find Lucien. He’ll take you to get something sweet.”

Her entire face lit up, and she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before darting off toward her uncle, who caught her easily before she could barrel into him.

You leaned into Eris’s side, watching her go. “You really are soft.”

He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Don’t spread that around.”

Azer, who had been watching the exchange with mild amusement, took a sip of his drink. “Everyone already knows.”

Eris shot him a look, but there was no real heat behind it. “Just wait until you have children,” he muttered.

Azer choked slightly on his drink. “Let’s not talk about that.”

You laughed softly, taking Eris’s hand in yours. The room was full of people, of noble houses and political figures, but here, in this small circle of warmth, it was just the four of you. The High Lord and Lady of Autumn, their fiery heir, and the little girl who had softened them all.

Yes, everything had changed. But for the first time in a long time, it was exactly as it should be.

As the night stretched on, the ballroom buzzed with energy. Laughter, conversation, and the occasional clash of goblets filled the air. Azer stood at the centre of it all, the young heir of the Autumn Court, poised and commanding in a way that was almost eerie. He wore his title well, just as Eris had trained him to. But beneath the weight of expectation, there was still the boy who had once clung to your gown and declared balls to be “boring.”

You watched him from the sidelines, Eris standing beside you with a goblet in hand. “He carries himself like a High Lord already,” you mused, eyes following your son as he engaged in polite conversation with one of the noble families.

Eris hummed, tilting his head slightly. “That’s because he’s been raised for this. But he’s still got fire in him—just like his mother.”

You smirked, nudging his side. “That fire got me in plenty of trouble.”

“And yet,” he murmured, bringing your hand to his lips, “it’s the reason I fell for you.”

Before you could reply, a flash of red darted through the room—Avey, running full speed toward Azer. You barely had time to open your mouth before she jumped onto a chair beside him and tugged on his sleeve.

“Azer,” she hissed, attempting to whisper but failing miserably.

Azer sighed, turning toward her with an amused expression. “What?”

She cupped her hands around her mouth dramatically. “Uncle Lucien let me have three pastries.”

Azer blinked. “And you came all the way across the room just to tell me that?”

She nodded sagely. “Yes.”

He fought back a grin, shaking his head. “I hope you get a stomach-ache.”

Avey gasped, smacking his arm. “Mama! Azer’s being mean to me.”

You stepped forward, arms crossed. “Maybe he wouldn’t be so mean if you weren’t interrupting an important conversation.”

Avey pursed her lips, then turned to the noble family still standing nearby. “Was it an important conversation?” she asked sweetly.

The lady blinked, thrown off. “Um… yes?”

Avey turned back to Azer with a victorious look. “Sounds boring.”

The entire exchange had Eris pinching the bridge of his nose, exhaling heavily. “We cannot take her anywhere.”

Lucien appeared behind you, grinning as he leaned against a pillar. “Oh, come on. She keeps things interesting.”

“You let her have three pastries?” Eris shot him a glare.

Lucien shrugged. “You let her wrap you around her little finger, so I figured, why fight it?”

Avey, thrilled by the chaos she was causing, looked between the adults and took Azer’s hand. “Come on! I wanna dance.”

Azer groaned. “No—”

But Avey was already pulling him toward the dance floor.

You leaned into Eris, laughing softly. “She’s going to rule us all one day.”

Eris sighed, but there was a proud smile tugging at his lips. “I fear she already does.”

Azer let out a long-suffering sigh, but he didn't fight it when Avey yanked him toward the dance floor. Her little hands gripped his much larger ones as she practically dragged him between the other dancing couples, weaving through nobles who stepped aside with amused glances. He towered over her, his formal attire sharp and crisp, a stark contrast to Avey's tiny form in her autumn-red dress. She was beaming, her excitement palpable.

Azer looked down at her, shaking his head. "You're too small for this."

"I'm not small," she huffed. "You're just freakishly tall."

His lips twitched, but he crouched down, gripping her waist and lifting her onto the tops of his boots. "There," he muttered. "Now you can actually keep up."

Avey gasped in delight as he straightened, her feet now resting firmly on his. She gripped his hands tighter, already bouncing with excitement. "This is so much better!"

Azer rolled his eyes but started moving, guiding her into the rhythm of the music. It was slow, steady, nothing too complicated—he wasn’t about to spin her around like their father did with their mother. But it was enough to make her giggle, her curls bouncing with every small step.

The ballroom had grown quieter, people pausing to watch. Not in judgment, not in ridicule, but in something softer. Something fonder. The heir of Autumn, the sharp and poised young warrior, dancing with his little sister like it was the most important thing in the world.

Avey, unaware of their audience, tilted her head back and beamed up at him. “This is way better than sitting around listening to boring people talk.”

Azer scoffed. “You’re the one who wanted to come.”

She grinned, utterly unapologetic. “And now I want to dance.”

He rolled his eyes again, but he spun them both in a slow circle, her laughter ringing out like bells. She clung to his hands as he picked up the pace, letting her lean into his movements, her feet never once touching the floor. She was weightless, free, like a little flame flickering in the breeze.

Across the room, Eris watched with unreadable eyes. His grip on your waist tightened just slightly, and when you looked up at him, you found a softness there—one he rarely let show.

“She’s going to be trouble,” he murmured, voice rich with something almost affectionate.

You smiled. “She already is.”

Lucien, standing beside you both, let out a low chuckle. “That one will bring this court to its knees one day.”

Eris exhaled, rubbing his temple. “Let’s hope it’s not anytime soon.”

But despite his words, his gaze never left his children. The son who had grown into a leader before his very eyes, the daughter who had him wrapped around her little finger. And for all the fire and power he wielded, this was what he had built. This was what he had fought for.

Azer, utterly defeated by his sister’s relentless enthusiasm, lifted her up entirely, spinning her once before setting her down again. Avey squealed, her laughter unbridled, echoing through the grand hall.

Avey was still giggling when Azer finally set her down, her tiny hands gripping his sleeves as she tried to regain her balance. Her curls were a wild mess from all the spinning, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Azer steadied her with a sigh, his hands still resting on her shoulders.

"You good?" he asked, arching a brow.

Avey grinned up at him, her eyes sparkling. "Again."

Azer groaned. "Absolutely not."

She pouted. "But—"

"Nope." He tapped her nose, smirking as she scrunched her face. "Go bother Uncle Lucien or something."

Avey gasped, whipping around to find Lucien across the room. "That’s a great idea!" And just like that, she took off running, dodging between nobles without a care.

Azer exhaled, scrubbing a hand over his face as he turned back toward the main table. He spotted you and Eris still watching him, both of you with expressions he didn’t quite like—proud, knowing. His scowl deepened.

"What?" he muttered as he strode up to you both.

You tilted your head, sipping your wine. "Nothing."

Eris hummed, swirling his drink in his hand. "You’re a good brother."

Azer huffed. "Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain."

Lucien returned then, looking mildly exhausted as he held a very squirmy Avey in his arms. "She caught me," he sighed. "How do you two keep up with this one?"

"We don’t," you said flatly. "She keeps up with us."

Avey wriggled out of Lucien’s hold, landing with a small hop before throwing herself at Eris, wrapping her arms around his waist. He barely budged at the impact, glancing down at her with an arched brow.

"Tired already?" he asked, amusement lacing his tone.

Avey clung tighter, peeking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "No," she chirped. "But I need a break before I challenge Azer to a rematch."

Azer groaned, throwing his head back. "You have to be joking."

Eris snorted, ruffling Avey’s hair before looking at his son. "I think she’s serious."

Azer shot him a flat look. "You let this happen."

Eris only smirked, sipping his wine. "And I’d do it again."

Lucien clapped a hand on Azer’s shoulder, grinning. "Welcome to the rest of your life, kid."

Azer muttered something under his breath, but there was no real frustration in his tone—just exasperated fondness.

You watched them all—Eris, your son, your daughter, Lucien. The family you had built. The warmth of it settled deep in your chest, filling every part of you with something unshakable, something eternal.

Azer crouched down beside Avey, his sharp golden eyes glinting with mischief as he leaned in close. His sister, still catching her breath from all the dancing, barely noticed at first—until he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear, “Do you wanna ditch?”

Avey’s head snapped up, her curls bouncing as she turned to him, eyes wide with curiosity. “Ditch?” she echoed, voice barely above a whisper.

Azer smirked, nodding slightly toward the open balcony doors, where the cool night air drifted in. Outside, the gardens stretched into the dark, a maze of trees and lantern-lit paths just waiting to be explored.

“You’re always complaining about boring parties,” he murmured. “Thought you might want a little adventure.”

Avey bit her lip, glancing between him and the ballroom. Their parents were now engaged in conversation, Eris watching the room like a hawk, their mother speaking quietly to Lucien. No one was looking their way this very second.

Her fingers twitched against the fabric of her dress. “Where would we go?”

Azer’s grin widened. “Anywhere but here.”

Avey hesitated—only for a second. Then, with a sly little smile, she nodded.

Azer didn’t waste another moment. In one swift motion, he scooped her up, one arm locking around her waist as he rose to his full height. She barely managed to stifle a squeal, gripping onto him as he adjusted his hold.

“Shhh,” he hushed, his voice laced with laughter. “Do you want to get caught?”

Avey smacked his shoulder lightly. “I am perfectly capable of sneaking, you know.”

“Sure you are.” Azer shot her a knowing look before glancing toward the exit again, scanning the room for any watchful gazes. When he was certain they were in the clear, he whispered, “Hold on tight, little fox.”

The moment Azer stepped onto the balcony, the cool night air wrapped around them, carrying the scent of rain-soaked earth and the lingering embers of the torches lining the garden paths. The storm had passed, leaving behind a dampness that clung to the stone beneath his boots.

Avey wiggled in his arms, her small hands clutching his shoulder as she whispered urgently, “Put me down! We’ll be faster if I run too.”

Azer huffed but complied, setting her gently on her feet. The moment her toes touched the ground, she grabbed his wrist and yanked him toward the steps leading into the garden.

“Come on!” she urged in a hushed giggle, her bare feet barely making a sound as she darted forward.

Azer kept pace easily, letting her think she was leading him as they weaved through the lantern-lit paths. The hedges were still dripping from the earlier rain, the scent of damp leaves and flowers heavy in the air. Their footsteps were muted against the softened ground, blending into the rustling of the trees overhead.

“Where exactly are we going?” Azer finally asked as Avey pulled him through a narrow archway covered in autumn-coloured vines.

She glanced over her shoulder, grinning. “Anywhere but here, remember?”

Azer rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smirk tugging at his lips. “If you get me into trouble—”

“Oh, please.” Avey waved a dismissive hand. “I’m the youngest. You’d get in trouble, not me.”

Azer let out a short laugh. “Unbelievable.”

They slipped deeper into the gardens, the warm glow of the ballroom fading behind them. The air was still damp, the scent of wet stone mixing with the crisp freshness of the night. Avey twirled ahead of him, arms outstretched as if she could catch the remnants of the storm in her fingertips.

For a moment, they were just two shadows moving through the night, laughter barely contained as they ran through the maze of hedges and stone paths. No court, no politics, no expectations—just freedom.

Just them.

Avey let out a breathless giggle as she grabbed Azer’s hand and yanked him toward the deeper part of the gardens, where the trees grew thicker and the paths turned uneven. The moon hung low in the sky, casting silver light over the damp leaves as they ran, their feet barely making a sound against the softened earth.

“Faster!” she whispered, shooting him a mischievous grin.

Azer groaned dramatically but picked up his pace, his longer strides easily keeping up with her frantic energy. She was quick—quicker than most would expect—but he’d always been faster. Still, he let her drag him along, her small fingers gripping his wrist like she was leading some grand escape.

The scent of rain still clung to the air, mingling with the rich, earthy scent of the lake as they neared. The closer they got, the louder the water became—calm but steady, lapping at the edges of the rocky shoreline. The path opened up suddenly, the last of the hedges parting to reveal the lake stretched wide before them, smooth as glass beneath the moonlight.

Avey skidded to a stop at the edge, her toes just shy of the damp stones lining the shore. Azer nearly crashed into her, catching himself at the last second as he ruffled her curls.

“We’re soaked already,” he muttered, glancing down at the mud clinging to the hem of his pants. “I don’t know why I let you think of this.”

Avey grinned, stepping onto the nearest flat stone jutting out into the lake. “Because you love me.”

Azer rolled his eyes but said nothing.

The water shimmered, reflecting the night sky like a fractured mirror. Avey crouched, dipping her fingers into the cold surface, sending tiny ripples across the lake. She looked over her shoulder at Azer, her smile turning sly.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he warned.

Avey’s grin widened.

And then—she splashed him.

Azer stared at the water droplets now dripping from his sleeve. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to her, feigning betrayal. “Oh, you are dead.”

Avey squealed, scrambling to her feet just as Azer lunged. She barely managed to dodge, her laughter echoing through the trees as she sprinted down the shore, her older brother right behind her.

-----

The warmth of Eris’s arms wrapped around your waist before you even saw him coming. His presence was unmistakable—the heat that always radiated from him, the scent of cedar and smoke clinging to his skin. He pulled you flush against his chest, his grip firm yet lazy, as if he had all the time in the world to simply hold you.

His lips found the curve of your neck first, the kiss slow, lingering, before trailing up to just behind your ear. The heat of his breath sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt the ghost of a smirk against your skin.

“You disappeared on me,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, meant for you and you alone.

Your hands covered his where they rested against your stomach, fingers idly tracing along the veins of his wrists. “I needed a moment. The wine was helping.”

Eris chuckled, the sound vibrating against your back. “Drinking to survive my company, sweetheart?”

You tilted your head slightly, giving him more access as his lips brushed just beneath your jaw. “Drinking to survive this entire night.”

He hummed in amusement, his fingers pressing a little firmer against your stomach as he rocked you gently in place, swaying slightly in the dimly lit ballroom. The music played on, couples dancing in elegant circles, but in this moment, with his arms locked around you, the rest of the world felt distant.

His nose grazed your ear as he whispered, “You’ve been so patient, putting up with all these strangers, all these dull conversations. Should I reward you for your suffering?”

Your lips twitched. “And what exactly do you have in mind, my love?”

Eris pressed one last slow kiss just beneath your ear, then murmured, “Dance with me.”

It wasn’t a request.

Eris didn’t wait for your answer—he simply took your hand, spinning you in one smooth motion before pulling you onto the dance floor. His other hand found the small of your back, guiding you effortlessly into the rhythm of the music.

The ballroom’s golden light flickered in his sharp amber eyes, but his focus was entirely on you. His grip was steady, his movements precise, as if he wasn’t just dancing but claiming you in front of everyone. You let yourself sink into the moment, into the warmth of him, the way his fingers pressed lightly against your spine, the way his thumb traced idle circles against the back of your hand.

“See?” he murmured, his voice nothing more than a low hum between you. “Not all of tonight has to be dreadful.”

You let out a soft huff, though your lips twitched. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

Eris smirked, leaning down just enough so that his breath ghosted across your cheek. “Dancing with my wife? I’d be a fool not to.”

His confidence was infuriating—and devastatingly effective. You let him lead you across the floor, the two of you moving as if you had done this a thousand times before. His warmth, his scent, the way his fingers tightened just slightly around your waist when you moved too far—it was enough to make the rest of the ballroom blur into nothing.

But then—something itched at the back of your mind. A sense of wrongness, an absence that shouldn’t have gone unnoticed for so long.

You blinked, pulling back slightly to glance around the room. Your gaze skimmed over the crowd, searching, searching—

And then it hit you.

“Azer and Avey,” you said suddenly, your voice sharper than before. “Where are they?”

Eris barely faltered, but you felt the way his grip tightened just a fraction. His expression didn’t change immediately, but you knew him well enough to see the flicker of realization in his eyes. He turned his head slightly, scanning the ballroom as if he could will them into appearing.

Your stomach twisted. You hadn’t seen them in—how long had it been? Too long. A sick feeling curled in your chest as you whispered, “Eris—”

“I know.” His voice was calm.

-----

Avey let out a high-pitched shriek as Azer’s arms finally locked around her waist. She had tried to escape—kicking, twisting, even scrambling onto the rocks at the lake’s edge—but her older brother was faster, stronger, and far too determined.

“Azer! No—no, no, no—”

Her protests were cut off by a triumphant laugh as he lifted her off the ground, her legs flailing wildly in the air.

“You’ve been asking for this all night, little fox,” Azer teased, his grip firm despite her desperate attempts to wiggle free. “What kind of big brother would I be if I didn’t give you what you wanted?”

“I don’t want it!” she screeched, grabbing at his wrists, but it was useless.

Azer stepped into the water, the cold sending a brief shudder up his spine as it rushed over his boots. Avey, sensing her doom, clung to him like a cat avoiding a bath.

“Azer, NO, I will—”

She never got to finish her threat.

With a sharp twist, Azer spun and dropped her into the lake.

Avey hit the water with a splash, the sound echoing through the quiet night.

For a second, there was only silence. Then—

“You absolute—” Avey’s head broke the surface, her soaked curls plastered to her face as she gasped. “You are dead!”

Azer howled with laughter, doubling over as his sister splashed furiously at him. Her small hands sent waves of water sloshing against his legs, but he barely flinched.

“I warned you,” he taunted, stepping back just as Avey lunged for him.

She missed, sputtering as she pushed her soaked curls from her eyes. The water was up to her shoulders now, her dress clinging uncomfortably, but that wasn’t about to stop her.

Azer grinned down at her, hands on his hips. “You look like a drowned kitten.”

Avey narrowed her eyes. “You,” she seethed, “are the worst brother in the entire world.”

Avey, soaked to the bone and shivering, let out an ear-piercing squeal as she kicked forward, sending a wave of lake water straight at her brother.

Azer barely had time to shield himself before the cold water splashed against his chest. He gasped in mock offense, shaking out his arms as he glared at his little sister. “Oh, now you want to play dirty?”

Avey stuck her tongue out at him, her small hands pushing against the water as she tried to wade toward him, her movements clumsy but determined. “You deserve it, you big, mean bully!” she huffed, still struggling to get her soaked curls out of her face.

Azer crossed his arms, smirking. “You say that now, but you’ll be laughing about this by morning.”

Avey puffed out her cheeks, her big, golden-amber eyes narrowing into a glare. “No, I won’t!”

“Yes, you will.”

“No, I won’t!”

“Yes, you—”

Avey let out another high-pitched shriek and lunged at him, arms flailing. She barely reached his chest before slipping beneath the water again with an undignified sploosh.

Azer snorted, watching her pop back up a second later, sputtering and furious. “You need to work on your sneak attacks, little fox.”

Avey stomped her foot—or at least, tried to. The water made it more of a splash than anything else. “You ruined my dress, you horrible, evil, big—” She fumbled for the worst insult her seven-year-old brain could think of. “Goat!”

Azer barked out a laugh. “A goat?”

“A smelly goat!” Avey added, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“Oh no,” he deadpanned, placing a hand over his heart. “Whatever will I do with such a brutal insult?”

Avey huffed, crossing her arms in the water as she glared up at him.

Then—suddenly—her lips twitched.

Azer caught it immediately. “Ah-ha!” He pointed a triumphant finger at her. “You’re smiling!”

“No, I’m not!” she squeaked, lips pursing again.

“Yes, you are. And I told you—you’d be laughing about this soon.”

Avey groaned dramatically, throwing her head back. “I still hate you.”

Azer only grinned. “Love you too, little fox.”

Avey scowled, but this time, there was no real fire behind it. With one last glare, she lunged for him again—this time, managing to grab onto his arm, holding on tight.

Azer chuckled, easily hoisting her up until she could wrap her arms around his neck. “Come on, let’s get out of the water before you turn into an icicle.”

Avey sniffled, resting her wet cheek against his shoulder. “I won’t turn into an icicle,” she mumbled.

Azer smirked. “Maybe not, but you are freezing.”

Avey only hummed in response, her small fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he waded toward the shore, carrying her as if she weighed nothing at all.

-----

Back in the ballroom, you barely had a moment to savor the warmth of Eris’s embrace before a chill ran up your spine—a mother’s instinct. You had been swaying in his arms, your head tucked beneath his jaw, enjoying the steady rise and fall of his breath against your temple. But something gnawed at you, a feeling that whispered—your children were up to something.

Eris must have felt the shift in your body because he hummed low in his throat, his lips grazing just beneath your ear. “Relax, my love,” he murmured, voice like embers burning low. “You’re too tense.”

You sighed, your fingers twisting against the fine fabric of his tunic. “Eris…” You lifted your head slightly, peering up at him. “Where are the children?”

He stilled for half a second—a fraction of hesitation, but you caught it. His fingers curled more firmly around your waist, his free hand coming up to brush over your jaw, coaxing your attention back to him.

“They’re fine,” he assured you, though his tone was more amused than convincing.

You narrowed your eyes. “Eris.”

He exhaled through his nose, that signature smirk playing on his lips. “Avey is with Azer.”

You stared at him. “And where is Azer?”

He hesitated. Just for a moment.

Your stomach dropped.

“Eris Vanserra,” you said, stepping back slightly. “Tell me they’re not up to something.”

He let out a long, dramatic sigh, tilting his head back slightly. “Would it make you feel better if I lied?”

“Eris!”

His smirk widened, and before you could shove at his chest, Lucien came striding toward you both, eyes sharp. “You might want to go find your son,” he drawled, crossing his arms. “And your daughter.”

Your heart kicked. “What happened?”

Lucien lifted a brow. “Oh, nothing much. Just Azer being… well, Azer.”

Eris ran a hand through his damp hair, rubbing at his temple. “I swear, that boy…” But there was no real frustration in his voice—only exasperated fondness.

Without another word, you turned on your heel, lifting the hem of your dress to make your way toward the open doors leading into the stormy gardens. Eris fell into step beside you, his hand pressed firmly against the small of your back.

“We’re never hosting another ball,” you muttered, your pace quickening.

Eris let out a deep chuckle. “You say that now.”

You shot him a sharp glare. “Your son is a menace.”

His grin was entirely too pleased. “Yes,” he agreed, voice dripping with pride. “Yes, he is.”

The moment you stepped outside, the cold bite of rain met your skin, soaking through the fine fabric of your dress. The storm had worsened since you and Eris had last been out here, the wind howling through the trees, carrying the scent of wet earth and embers.

You shivered slightly, but you barely noticed, too focused on the distant sounds of laughter—one deep and rich, the other high-pitched and full of glee.

Your gaze flicked to Eris. He had already pinpointed the source, his sharp amber eyes narrowing toward the lake.

With a groan, he started forward. “If they’re in the godsdamned water…”

You picked up your pace beside him, your heart hammering. “Avey better not be in the lake.”

“She wouldn’t.” But even as Eris said it, you could hear the doubt creeping in.

And then—

“I HATE you, Azer!”

Avey’s furious, tiny voice echoed across the stormy night, followed by Azer’s uncontrollable laughter.

Eris sighed heavily. “I knew I should’ve locked that boy in his room.”

You broke into a run, following the sound of their voices. Eris was right beside you, muttering under his breath about how his son was nothing but a walking headache, though you caught the glimmer of amusement in his tone.

By the time you reached the shore, the sight before you had you stopping dead in your tracks.

Avey stood in the shallows of the lake, drenched from head to toe, her tiny fists clenched at her sides as she glared up at her older brother. Water dripped from her curls, her lower lip wobbling, but her eyes burned with the kind of fury only a little sister could muster.

Azer, standing just out of reach, was still laughing, his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “Come on, little fox,” he teased, wiping at his eyes. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Avey stomped toward him, slipping slightly in the mud. “You’re the worst, Azer Vanserra!”

Azer grinned. “You’ve said worse.”

“I mean it this time!”

“You always mean it.”

Before she could tackle him, you cleared your throat loudly.

Both children froze.

Slowly, they turned their heads, catching sight of you and Eris standing just beyond the treeline.

Avey’s face paled. Azer’s grin faltered.

Eris crossed his arms. “Would either of you like to explain why my daughter is soaking wet at the edge of the lake in the middle of a storm?”

Silence.

Then—

Azer scratched the back of his head, offering a sheepish smile. “Uh… bonding?”

Eris’s eye twitched.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Azer.”

Avey wasted no time, spinning on her heel and pointing an accusatory finger at her brother. “He dunked me!”

Eris exhaled sharply. “Azer.”

“She wanted to ditch,” Azer defended, raising his hands in surrender. “I just… made it more exciting.”

Avey splashed at him again, glaring daggers. “I hate you.”

Azer only laughed.

Eris ran a hand down his face, looking seconds away from dragging Azer into the lake himself. But before he could, you stepped forward, reaching for your shivering daughter.

“Come here, sweetheart,” you murmured.

Avey sniffled dramatically but rushed into your arms, wrapping her soaked limbs around you. You smoothed a hand down her wet curls, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re freezing.”

She sniffled again, nuzzling into your warmth. “Azer’s mean.”

“I know, baby.” You sent a look at your son. “Azer, you’re mean.”

He placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Wow. Betrayal.”

Eris finally pinched the bridge of his nose. “Both of you, inside. Now.”

Azer groaned. “But—”

“Now.”

Avey smirked as she let you lead her toward the house. “Hah. Loser.”

Azer rolled his eyes but trailed after you, still smirking. “Oh, shut up, little fox.”

Eris fell into step beside you, muttering, “I’m going to strangle that boy one day.”

You chuckled softly. “No, you won’t.”

He sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “No,” he admitted, glancing at his son. “I won’t.”

By the time you stepped back into the manor, the storm had picked up, the rain lashing against the grand windows. The warmth of the ballroom was a stark contrast to the damp chill clinging to your skin. Avey shivered in your arms, her small hands clutching at your dress, while Azer trailed behind, shaking out his soaked curls like a wet dog.

Eris shot him a look. “Do that again, and I will throw you back outside.”

Azer grinned, completely unbothered. “Worth it.”

Avey, still bundled against you, let out an exaggerated sigh. “Mama, I need a bath. A warm one. With bubbles.”

You kissed her temple, smoothing a hand down her damp curls. “We’ll get you one soon, love.”

Lucien had been standing nearby, talking to Helion and Arlene, but at the sight of the four of you—sopping wet and clearly having just returned from whatever disaster Azer had orchestrated—he made his way over, brow arched.

“I don’t even want to ask,” he muttered, raking his gaze over his dripping niece and nephew.

Eris exhaled sharply, rubbing at his temple. “Then don’t.”

Lucien chuckled. “Azer, what did you do?”

Avey immediately pulled back from your hold, pointing an accusatory finger at her older brother. “He threw me in the lake!”

Lucien turned to Azer, unimpressed. “Really?”

Azer smirked. “She wanted to ditch the ball. I made it fun.”

Avey huffed, crossing her arms. “You threw me!”

Lucien sighed, shaking his head. “You’re lucky your mother’s here to keep your father from strangling you.”

Eris shot his brother a glare. “Don’t tempt me.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting Avey more comfortably in your arms. “Alright, enough. Avey needs to get warm, and I need to get changed before I catch a cold.”

Avey perked up immediately. “Can I have extra bubbles?”

You smiled, brushing a damp curl from her face. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Azer groaned. “She gets extra bubbles, and I get threatened? Unfair.”

Eris turned, eyes sharp. “You dunk your sister in a lake again, and I’ll dunk you.”

Azer only grinned, the picture of unrepentant mischief. “I’d like to see you try, old man.”

Lucien let out a bark of laughter. “You are getting old, brother.”

Eris glared at them both. “Out. All of you. Before I lose my mind.”

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to Avey’s forehead. “Come on, little love. Let’s get you warm.”

As you turned to leave, Azer leaned into his sister with a teasing grin. “Still the best night ever.”

Avey stuck out her tongue. “Hate you.”

Azer just laughed, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “No, you don’t.”

And despite her dramatic grumbling, Avey leaned into her brother’s warmth as you all disappeared up the stairs, leaving the remnants of the storm—and the ball—behind.

-----

Later that night, after the manor had settled into a quiet hum of flickering candlelight and distant laughter, you found yourself standing by the window of your chambers, gazing out at the darkened forest beyond. The rain had finally eased into a soft drizzle, the world outside bathed in silver moonlight.

Eris was behind you, his presence a familiar warmth as he pulled you into him, arms wrapping securely around your waist. His chin rested on your shoulder, his breath fanning over your damp hair.

“They’re in bed,” he murmured, voice laced with exhaustion.

You hummed, tilting your head slightly against his. “Both of them?”

“Avey knocked out in the bath. Azer had to carry her to bed.” His lips brushed just beneath your ear, a smile in his voice. “I think it made up for the whole lake incident.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “He’s lucky she adores him.”

Eris sighed, holding you a little tighter. “He’s lucky we adore him.”

You turned in his arms, meeting his gaze. There was something softer in his expression tonight, something only you ever got to see. The High Lord of Autumn, so ruthless to the rest of the world, so completely undone in the quiet moments he let himself have with you.

“Are you alright?” you asked, brushing your fingers over his cheek.

He exhaled, his hands settling at your hips. “I should be asking you that.”

You raised a brow. “Eris.”

A smirk ghosted over his lips before he shook his head. “I keep thinking about tonight. How different everything is now.” His thumbs traced absentminded circles against your waist. “There was a time when I never thought I’d have this. A family. Peace. You.”

You softened, sliding your hands up to cup his face. “But you do have it, Eris. And you always will.”

His grip tightened as he kissed you, slow and deep, like he was trying to commit the feeling of you to memory. When he pulled back, his eyes burned with something unspoken.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, though you both knew it wasn’t a question.

You smiled, leaning into him. “Always.”

And as the rain faded into nothing, as the world outside stilled, you let him pull you towards the bed, towards the warmth of his touch, towards the life you had built together—one that was yours to keep, always.

Eris’ lips found yours again, slow at first, savouring, but then something shifted—something more playful sparking in his touch. His fingers skimmed along the curve of your waist, featherlight, making you shiver as he deepened the kiss just enough to leave you wanting more.

Then, just as you leaned further into him, he pulled back.

You blinked, dazed, only to see the smirk curling at the corner of his lips. “What—”

Before you could finish, he brushed his lips over yours again, barely a ghost of a touch. And again. And again.

A frustrated sound caught in your throat as you tried to chase his mouth, but he only pulled away, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Patience, darling,” he murmured, voice rich with laughter.

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

Eris chuckled, pressing a kiss just beneath your jaw, his fingers now tracing slow, teasing circles over the small of your back. “And yet, you adore me.”

You huffed, though the warmth pooling in your stomach betrayed you. “That’s debatable.”

He grinned against your skin. “Liar.”

Then, in one smooth motion, he dipped you backward, catching you securely in his arms. A surprised laugh escaped you as you clung to him, the world tilting. His eyes, molten with mischief, locked onto yours.

“I should leave you like this,” he mused, pretending to consider it, “make you ask for it.”

You let out an indignant scoff. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Eris merely hummed, as if the thought truly tempted him. Then, finally, finally, he kissed you properly—deep and slow and claiming. His hand cradled the back of your head, tilting you just the way he liked as he swallowed the breathless sound you made.

By the time he pulled away, you were sure your legs would have given out if not for his hold. He studied you, smug and satisfied, his thumb brushing against your kiss-swollen lips.

“See?” he murmured. “Patience does have its rewards.”

You glared at him, though the effect was ruined by the heat in your gaze. “Shut up and kiss me again, Eris.”

His grin was wicked as he obeyed.

Eris didn’t waste a second. His lips crashed onto yours again, this time with none of the teasing restraint from before. His hands tightened at your waist, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you deep, hungry, like he’d been waiting all night for this.

A pleased hum vibrated against your mouth when your fingers tangled into his fiery hair, tugging just enough to make him groan. His grip on you tightened, one hand sliding up your spine, the other slipping lower—possessive, claiming.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he broke the kiss, only to nip at the soft spot just below your ear. “You taste like wine,” he murmured, voice husky as he kissed a slow path down your throat.

“And you taste like trouble,” you shot back, though the breathless edge to your voice ruined the effect.

Eris chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Funny, I was about to say the same about you.” His hands skimmed lower, fingers pressing into your hips. “Dragging me out into the rain. Ruining my perfectly tailored suit.”

You gasped as he suddenly lifted you, hoisting you onto the nearby table in one swift motion. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, but he pulled back just slightly, his lips hovering over yours.

“What am I going to do with you?” he mused, his smirk utterly wicked.

You arched a brow, fingers still tangled in his hair. “I could give you a few ideas.”

His gaze darkened, molten heat burning in those amber eyes. “Oh, I bet you could.”

Then he kissed you again, deeper this time, until all thoughts of the ball, the rain, and everything else melted away entirely.

-----

Two months later

Azer barely stirred when his bedroom door creaked open. The early morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting soft golden streaks across the room. His bed was warm, the blankets a tangled mess around him, but he was still deep in sleep, his face half-buried in his pillow.

That was, until a small set of hands shoved at his shoulder.

“Azer,” Avey whisper-shouted, her seven-year-old voice laced with urgency. When he only groaned in response, she huffed and tried again—this time climbing onto his bed, her knees digging into his side as she shook him harder.

“Azer, wake up!”

He let out a dramatic groan, rolling onto his back and throwing an arm over his eyes. “Go away, Ave.” His voice was rough with sleep, and he definitely wasn’t in the mood for whatever chaos his little sister was about to unleash.

But Avey was nothing if not persistent.

She flopped down onto his chest with all her tiny weight, making him grunt in protest. “Wake up,” she whined. “It’s important!”

Azer cracked one eye open, only to find Avey’s face inches from his, her big autumn-coloured eyes wide with excitement. Her curls were a wild mess from sleep, and she was still in her nightgown, her little feet tucked under her.

He groaned again, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Ave, if this isn’t life or death—”

“It is!” she interrupted, bouncing slightly on his chest. “Mama and Dad are up, and I heard them talking about something big.”

Azer sighed, already regretting this conversation. “What kind of ‘big’?”

Avey’s grin stretched wide. “I think we’re going on a trip!”

That got his attention. Azer’s brows lifted slightly as he finally pushed himself up onto his elbows, making Avey slide off his chest and onto the mattress beside him. “A trip where?”

“I don’t know,” she huffed, flopping onto her stomach and kicking her feet. “But I heard Mama saying we have to pack, and Daddy said something about ‘preparations’ and ‘not causing a diplomatic disaster.’”

Azer blinked, then smirked. “That definitely sounds like Dad.”

Avey giggled, nodding enthusiastically. “So come on,” she urged, tugging at his arm. “We have to find out where we’re going!”

Azer let out a long-suffering sigh, but he was already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He knew there was no getting out of this—not when Avey was determined.

“Fine, fine,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. “But if this is some boring meeting in another court, you owe me.”

Avey beamed, hopping off the bed. “Deal!”

Avey practically skipped down the hall, her nightgown billowing behind her as she rushed ahead. Azer trailed after her at a much slower pace, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes.

The Autumn Court palace was quiet this early in the morning, save for the occasional flickering of flames in the wall sconces and the faint rustling of servants already beginning their day. But Avey’s hurried footsteps echoed through the halls, her excitement impossible to contain.

“Avey, slow down,” Azer grumbled, running a hand through his messy hair. “If you wake up the whole palace, Dad will—”

He was cut off as Avey skidded to a stop in front of their parents’ study. Without hesitation, she pressed her ear against the heavy wooden door, eyes gleaming.

Azer sighed, crossing his arms. “Really?”

Avey shushed him, waving a frantic hand for him to join her. He rolled his eyes but stepped closer, leaning against the wall beside her.

“…we need to make sure everything is in place before we leave,” their father’s voice came from inside, calm but firm.

Azer frowned. Before we leave?

“We should tell them soon,” their mother replied, her voice softer but no less decisive. “Azer especially. He’ll need time to prepare.”

Avey turned to him, practically vibrating. See? she mouthed excitedly.

Azer ignored her, listening closer.

“We’ll tell them at breakfast,” Eris said. “And we’ll remind them to be on their best behavior—”

“Especially Azer,” their mother added, amusement clear in her tone.

Azer scowled. What was that supposed to mean?

Avey giggled into her hands.

Then, suddenly—

“I know you two are listening.”

Avey gasped, her eyes going wide as the door swung open to reveal their father standing there, arms crossed, an unimpressed expression on his face.

Busted.

Avey immediately threw Azer under the metaphorical carriage. “It was his idea!” she blurted, pointing at him.

Azer scoffed, looking down at her in betrayal. “Seriously?”

You appeared behind Eris, shaking your head but clearly amused. “Come inside,” you said, stepping aside. “Since you’re so curious.”

Avey brightened, all traces of guilt gone as she skipped into the study. Azer followed with far less enthusiasm, dragging a hand down his face.

“Good morning to you, too,” he muttered as he stepped past his father.

Eris merely raised an eyebrow. “You’ll be less pleased when you hear where we’re going.”

Azer frowned, but before he could ask, his mother gestured for them to sit.

“Children,” you said, a knowing smile on your lips, “we’re going to the Night Court.”

Azer groaned the moment the words left your mouth, dropping his head back against the chair like the weight of the world had just landed on his shoulders.

“The Night Court?” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “So that means…”

“Yes,” Eris confirmed, clearly enjoying his son’s misery. “You’ll be seeing Nyx and Annavella.”

Azer let out another louder groan, tilting his head to glare at you like this was your fault. “Mama, do we have to?”

Avey, sitting beside him, perked up immediately. “I like Nyx and Annavella,” she chirped, swinging her legs beneath the chair. “They’re fun.”

Azer shot her a betrayed look. “That’s because they baby you.”

Avey stuck out her tongue.

You tried—tried—to keep a straight face, but Azer’s suffering was far too entertaining. “Since your father and Rhysand formed an alliance, yes, we do have to go,” you told him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “And you will behave.”

Azer slumped further into his chair. “Nyx is so annoying.”

“He’s twenty-one, Azer,” you sighed. “I doubt he’s changed that much since the last time you saw him.”

“Exactly,” Azer huffed. “He’s worse now. He acts like he’s so mature and wise just because he’s the heir to the Night Court. And don’t get me started on Annavella.”

Eris raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with Annavella?”

Azer let out an exasperated laugh. “Oh, I don’t know—maybe the fact that she thinks she’s better than me at everything? The last time we sparred, she practically tried to take my head off!”

“She won that sparring match,” Avey reminded him sweetly.

Azer scowled. “She cheated.”

Eris chuckled, shaking his head. “Sounds like you’re afraid of a little competition.”

“I’m not afraid,” Azer grumbled, crossing his arms. “I just don’t want to deal with her smug face for an entire trip. She and Nyx are so full of themselves.”

You patted his arm, barely holding back a smile. “You’ll survive.”

Azer only slumped further, muttering something about Night Court arrogance under his breath.

Avey, meanwhile, was practically bouncing in her seat. “When do we leave?” she asked eagerly.

“Tomorrow,” Eris answered.

Azer groaned again, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “Kill me now.”

Eris smirked. “Now, now, little firefox,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “It’ll be good for you.”

You watched as Azer slumped deeper into his chair, rubbing his temples like this trip was going to be the end of him. It was so tempting to drag this out just to watch him suffer, but you decided to be merciful—for now.

“And,” you said, drawing out the word, “Kallias and his wife will be there as well.”

Azer barely reacted.

You smirked. “With their son, Edur.”

That got his attention. His head popped up, eyes slightly less miserable. “Edur’s coming?”

“Yes.”

He nodded approvingly. “Alright. That makes it slightly better.”

Eris snorted, shaking his head at how quickly Azer’s attitude shifted. You knew he and Edur got along well—both of them were skilled fighters, and Azer actually respected him, which was rare for anyone outside of his own family.

But you weren’t done yet.

“And,” you added, enjoying this a little too much, “Tarquin is coming as well.”

Azer frowned. “Okay…”

“With his daughter.”

The moment the words left your mouth, Azer’s entire body stiffened. He slowly turned to look at you, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Noelani?”

You smiled sweetly. “Yes.”

Azer let out the loudest groan yet, dramatically flopping his head back against the chair.

“No,” he whined, dragging a hand down his face. “Not her.”

Avey, who had been swinging her legs beneath her chair, perked up at this. “Oooooh,” she hummed, grinning. “Azer likes her.”

Azer bolted upright so fast it was a miracle the chair didn’t topple over. “I do not like her, I want her existence to end.”

“You totally do,” Avey singsonged, giggling as she leaned toward him.

Azer turned his glare to you and Eris. “Why is she like this?”

“She’s seven,” Eris said simply.

“With a seven-year-old attitude,” you added, ruffling Avey’s curls.

Avey giggled again, clearly enjoying every second of Azer’s torment.

Azer groaned, dragging both hands down his face. “This is awful.”

“Oh, come now,” you teased, nudging him. “Noelani is a very nice girl.”

Azer scoffed. “She’s obnoxious.”

“You’re obnoxious,” Avey shot back.

Azer ignored her. “She’s always smiling and talking and trying to act all charming, like she thinks she’s so clever.” He rolled his eyes. “And she flirts with everyone.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you jealous?”

Azer gawked at you. “What? No! Why would I be jealous? That’s—ugh, forget it.”

Avey smirked. A perfectly mischievous smirk that looked far too much like Eris’s. “I think Azer has a crush.”

Azer groaned again, shoving away from the table. “I’m done with this conversation.”

Avey giggled, leaning into your side. “He totally likes her.”

You chuckled, wrapping an arm around your daughter. “He’s in denial.”

Eris merely shook his head, clearly amused. “This trip is going to be interesting.”

Azer, now standing with his arms crossed, scowled at all three of you. “I hate this family.”

Avey beamed up at him. “We love you, too!”

Azer moved before Avey even had the chance to scramble away. One second, she was grinning up at him with all the mischief in the world, and the next—

“AHH!”

Avey’s delighted shriek filled the room as Azer lunged, grabbing her around the waist and tackling her straight onto the plush carpet.

She wriggled and kicked, but Azer had years of training on her, easily pinning her down with one arm while using the other to mercilessly tickle her sides.

“Take it back!” he demanded over her squeals.

Avey screeched with laughter, thrashing like a wild thing. “Never!”

Azer grinned wickedly. “Wrong answer, little fox.”

His fingers moved faster, digging into her ribs, and Avey shrieked again, gasping between giggles as she tried to kick at him.

“Mama, help!” she cried, still laughing so hard tears pricked her eyes.

You crossed your arms, pretending to think it over. “Hmm… I don’t know. You did say Azer had a crush.”

Avey cackled. “Because he does!”

Azer groaned, flopping dramatically onto his back beside her. “Why do you exist?”

Avey immediately rolled onto him, sprawling across his chest in a way that made it impossible for him to move.

“Because you’d be so boring without me,” she declared, grinning as she poked his cheek.

Azer huffed, scowling at her. “You’re the worst.”

Avey batted her lashes. “And you love me.”

Azer sighed, letting his head fall back onto the carpet. “Unfortunately.”

Avey giggled, curling up against him like a satisfied little fox kit. Azer sighed again but let her stay, draping an arm around her like he always did.

Eris leaned toward you, murmuring, “Seven going on seventeen.”

You laughed softly, watching your children—so different, yet always drawn back to each other. “Tell me about it.”

Azer lay sprawled on the carpet, letting Avey practically nest on top of him. She had her arms tucked beneath her chin, peering up at him with a triumphant little grin, clearly very pleased with herself.

He huffed. “You’re ridiculously smug for someone who just got tackled.”

Avey wrinkled her nose at him. “You still didn’t win.”

Azer raised a brow. “Oh?”

Before she could react, he flipped them, rolling her onto her back and pinning her wrists to the floor.

“Who’s winning now?” he teased, grinning down at her.

Avey scowled. “You cheated!”

Azer barked a laugh. “I taught you this move, little fox. You should’ve been ready.”

Avey thrashed, trying to break free, but Azer easily kept her in place, smirking as she let out an exasperated groan.

You and Eris watched from the side, both of you thoroughly entertained.

“I give it a minute before she bites him,” Eris murmured.

You hummed, considering. “Thirty seconds.”

And then—

“OW—Avey!”

Azer jerked back, grabbing his arm where Avey had actually bitten him. Avey used the distraction to scramble free, cackling as she bolted across the room.

“I knew it,” Eris said, shaking his head.

Azer glared after his sister, rubbing his arm. “You are feral!”

Avey only stuck her tongue out at him. “You deserved it!”

Eris chuckled, stepping forward and ruffling Azer’s hair. “That’s what you get for underestimating a little fox.”

Azer grumbled something under his breath, still glaring at his sister, but he didn’t argue.

You just smiled, watching them—knowing that no matter how much they bickered, no matter how much they teased and tackled each other, Azer would always protect her, and Avey would always adore him.

Seven going on seventeen, indeed.

Avey kept a safe distance from her brother, practically vibrating with smugness as she rocked back on her heels. “What’s wrong, Azer?” she taunted, her little hands on her hips. “Didn’t think your baby sister could outsmart you?”

Azer rolled his eyes, still rubbing his arm where she’d bitten him. “You didn’t outsmart me, you cheated.”

Avey just grinned. “You should’ve been ready.”

Eris let out a low chuckle beside you, clearly enjoying this far too much. “She is your sister,” he reminded Azer. “I don’t know why you’re surprised.”

Azer let out a long suffering sigh, running a hand through his unruly hair. “She’s a menace.”

Avey beamed, taking it as a compliment. “I am!”

Eris shook his head with a soft smirk, then glanced at you. “How do you feel about giving her to Rhysand as a diplomatic gift?”

Avey gasped, utterly offended. “Mama!” she cried, running straight to you and wrapping her arms around your waist. “Tell him he’s not allowed to give me away!”

You smoothed a hand over her wild curls, barely containing your laughter. “I don’t think Rhys could handle you, little fox.”

Avey nodded fiercely. “Exactly!”

Azer snorted. “He’d return her in a day.”

Avey whipped around, pointing an accusing finger at him. “I am a delight, you meanie!”

Azer just smirked. “A delightful menace.”

Avey huffed dramatically, but instead of arguing, she just turned back to you, her eyes wide and pleading. “Mama, can we please go now?”

You smiled down at her. “Go where?”

She groaned, bouncing on her toes. “To the lake! Azer promised!”

You raised a brow, glancing at your son. “Did you?”

Azer sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I might have.”

Eris chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Then you’d better take her before she decides to bite you again.”

Azer grimaced as Avey giggled, clearly thrilled by the idea.

“Fine, fine,” Azer muttered, grabbing her hand. “But if you splash me in, I swear—”

Avey just cackled as she dragged him toward the door, already knowing she would.

As Azer and Avey disappeared through the doorway—Avey practically bouncing on her toes, Azer grumbling but following nonetheless—you felt Eris’ arm tighten around your waist, keeping you close.

The warmth of his body against yours was familiar, steady. Even after all these years, after all the chaos and change, there was something constant in the way he held you.

You glanced up at him, and his gaze was already on you—amber eyes soft, lingering, filled with something deep and unspoken.

“You’re looking at me like that again,” you murmured.

His lips twitched. “Like what?”

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “Like you’re trying to memorize me.”

Eris huffed a quiet laugh, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he reached up, fingers brushing along your jaw, tilting your face slightly toward him.

“I already have you memorized,” he murmured, voice lower now, softer. “But I like to remind myself anyway.”

Your breath hitched, caught in the way his thumb traced over your cheekbone, the way his gaze flickered over every detail of your face—as if he were savouring the moment, as if he wanted to keep it forever.

You smirked, placing a hand over his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. “Sentimental, aren’t we?”

He exhaled a quiet laugh, leaning down just enough that his lips almost brushed yours. “Don’t tell anyone.”

You grinned, tilting your chin up slightly, closing that last bit of space. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

And then, just before his lips could fully claim yours—

A scream echoed from outside, followed by a loud splash.

You both froze.

Then—

“Avey, I swear!” Azer’s furious voice rang through the halls.

Eris let out a low groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why did we have children?”

You laughed, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the door. “Because you love me and your dick always used to end up between my legs.”

Eris sighed dramatically, but he followed—because he did. More than anything.

The two of you stepped outside, the warm breeze carrying the scent of damp earth and pine from the gardens. The moment your feet hit the stone pathway leading toward the lake, you knew what you were about to find.

Sure enough—

Azer stood at the edge of the water, dripping wet, clothes clinging to him, curls a soaked mess as he glowered at his little sister. Avey, who was still standing knee-deep in the lake, had her hands clasped behind her back, lips pursed in an attempt to contain her laughter.

“You little monster,” Azer seethed.

Avey giggled, her shoulders shaking. “You should’ve seen your face!”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, but beside you, Eris had no such restraint. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and when you turned to look at him, he was smirking.

“You did say she couldn’t push you in,” Eris mused. “Not that she couldn’t pull you.”

Azer shot his father a withering glare. “Not. Helping.”

Eris merely shrugged, unbothered, as his attention flicked back to Avey. “You’re lucky I like you, little fox.”

Avey grinned, positively beaming. “I know.”

Azer groaned, pushing his wet curls back from his face. “I hate all of you.”

You snorted. “You don’t.”

Azer exhaled sharply, muttering something under his breath, but before he could start his inevitable rant about how much of a menace his little sister was, Avey let out a squeak—

And promptly ran straight for you.

You barely had time to react before she leapt into your arms, soaking you in the process. The cold water from her clothes seeped into your dress, making you gasp as she nuzzled into your neck, giggling.

Eris smirked at your expression, stepping forward to ruffle Avey’s soaked curls. “You are soaked, little fox.”

Avey hummed. “So’s Azer.”

Azer grumbled something incomprehensible.

Eris exhaled through his nose, then turned to you, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Shall we retrieve our chaotic children and return before we cause any more scandal?”

You sighed but smiled, adjusting Avey in your arms. “I suppose.”

Eris smirked, then reached for Azer’s shoulder, clapping a hand against his wet clothes. “Come, my drowned heir. Let’s get you dried off before your mother disowns us all.”

Azer groaned, but followed—because, despite the theatrics, he wouldn’t change any of this for the world.

-----

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, swirling a glass of wine between his fingers as he looked around the room. Feyre sat beside him, one arm draped over the back of her chair, her expression calm but observant. Across from them, Cassian was sprawled lazily on the couch, his wings draped over the sides, while Nesta sat beside him, her usual unimpressed stare locked on her mate’s attempt at looking relaxed.

Azriel stood near the window, arms crossed, his shadows curling idly around his shoulders. The room was warm, the soft glow of the chandelier reflecting against the polished wood floors, but there was an edge to the atmosphere—an unspoken weight in the air as they all waited.

Seated in the center of it all were the next generation—Nyx, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, and Annavella, who was perched on the arm of a chair, idly twirling a strand of dark hair between her fingers. Cassian and Nesta’s sons sat beside them—Andros, the eldest at nineteen, with his father’s broad shoulders and wild grin, and Evander, who was eighteen and a perfect balance of both his parents, sharp and steady but with Cassian’s penchant for trouble lurking beneath his composed exterior.

“You’re making it sound like we’re preparing for war,” Nyx finally said, raising a brow at his father.

Rhysand exhaled a slow breath, setting his wine down on the table. “Not war. But there will be tensions.” His violet gaze flicked toward Andros and Evander. “It’s your first time meeting them all at the same time, and I want you to be prepared.”

Annavella rolled her eyes. “It’s a gathering, not a battlefield.”

Nesta scoffed, taking a sip of her own drink. “Clearly, you’ve never been to a court gathering.”

Cassian grinned, ruffling Evander’s hair, much to his son’s annoyance. “There’s a lot of pride on the line when you throw High Lords and their families in one room. You’ll want to keep an eye on everything—and everyone.”

Evander frowned slightly. “Who exactly is coming?”

Rhysand leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Eris and his family, obviously. His son Azer is around your age, along with his younger sister, Avey.” His gaze flicked toward Nyx and Annavella. “You two have met them, but this will be the first formal gathering since they’ve become fully recognized within Autumn.”

Nyx nodded, his expression unreadable. “Azer’s fine. A bit high-strung, but fine.”

Cassian snorted. “Can you blame him? Look who his father is.”

Feyre shot him a look, but Rhysand only smirked before continuing. “Kallias and Viviane will be attending as well, along with their son, Edur. He’s twenty now.”

Andros perked up. “He’s the one that trained in Winter’s army, right?”

Azriel nodded. “He’s skilled—one of their best.”

Evander raised a brow. “So he’ll be fun to spar with?”

Cassian grinned, nudging his son’s shoulder. “Maybe. If Kallias doesn’t mind you breaking his alliances.”

Nesta sighed, shaking her head before turning to Rhysand. “Who else?”

“Tarquin,” Rhysand replied. “And his daughter, Noelani.”

Nyx groaned immediately, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Not her.”

Annavella laughed, tossing a cushion at her brother. “Oh, come on, Nyx. She likes you.”

“That’s the problem.”

Cassian laughed loudly, and even Azriel smirked slightly. “She’s persistent,” Rhysand admitted, amusement flickering in his gaze. “But you’ll survive.”

Nyx grumbled something under his breath.

Andros glanced at Evander, who was trying to stifle a grin. “This is going to be interesting.”

Rhysand exhaled slowly, glancing around the room, making sure they all understood. “Just remember—this is about alliances, about maintaining the peace that’s been built over the years. Whatever personal feelings you have about the others, put them aside.”

Cassian stretched, flexing his wings. “And if it does come to a fight—”

Nesta smacked his arm.

Cassian grinned. “What? Just saying. Wouldn’t be the worst way to spend an evening.”

Rhysand sighed, rubbing his temples. “Mother help us all.”

Nyx groaned again, leaning back in his chair. “I still don’t get why we have to be the ones dealing with this. Shouldn’t this be a High Lord thing?”

Rhysand gave his son a pointed look. “You’re the heir to this court, Nyx. One day, you will be the one managing these relationships.”

Nyx muttered something under his breath, but Annavella smirked. “I think it’s fun. Maybe Azer and I can make a game out of it—see how long it takes before someone snaps.”

Evander chuckled. “You say that like you’re not going to be the first one to start something, again may I add.”

Nesta sighed, rubbing her temples. “Please, for once, can we get through an evening without one of you causing a scene?”

Andros grinned at his mother. “No promises.”

Cassian laughed, clapping his eldest on the back. “That’s my boy.”

Rhysand rolled his eyes before turning back to Azriel, who had remained silent, simply listening to the conversation unfold. “What do you think?”

Azriel shrugged, his shadows curling around his shoulders. “Eris is smart. He knows the importance of tonight.”

Nyx scoffed. “Yeah, but Azer?”

Azriel hesitated for half a second before exhaling. “Azer takes after his father in ways that matter. He’ll keep himself in check.”

Annavella grinned. “I hope not.”

Rhysand shook his head, but before he could respond, Feyre cut in. “We also need to be aware of the political weight of this night. It’s not just about alliances—it’s about history. The Autumn Court has been in shadows for centuries under Beron’s rule. This is one of the first times Eris is fully opening his doors to others.”

Nyx tapped his fingers against his knee. “So what? We’re supposed to act like everything’s perfect and ignore the fact that everyone has some kind of grudge against each other?”

Nesta arched a brow at him. “That’s called politics.”

Cassian smirked. “That’s called bullshit.”

Feyre sighed. “Just try not to let your emotions get the best of you.”

Nyx let out a long breath before finally nodding. “Fine. I’ll behave.”

Andros snickered. “That makes one of us.”

Evander grinned. “Two.”

Annavella just winked.

Rhysand closed his eyes for a moment before muttering, “This is going to be a disaster.”

-----

You sighed as you knelt in front of Avey, carefully wrapping her in a thick, warm towel. Her curls clung to her face, damp and tangled from her latest adventure—one that had ended with her completely drenched, yet again.

"Avey," you murmured, gently squeezing the towel around her shoulders. "This is the third time today. Do you enjoy making me chase you down with a towel?"

Your seven-year-old daughter giggled, her little nose scrunching as she rocked slightly on her heels. "Maybe," she admitted, mischief glinting in her bright amber eyes—the same ones her father had.

You shook your head, unable to suppress a small smile as you rubbed the towel over her curls, trying to absorb as much water as possible. "You're going to catch a cold at this rate."

"Nuh-uh!" she protested, puffing out her chest. "I'm strong!"

"You're soaked," you countered, pulling the towel from her head and moving to dry her arms next. Her skin was still cool from the lake, and you hurried to warm her up, rubbing her down with firm, steady motions.

Avey sighed dramatically, letting her head tilt back. "You're like Azer."

You arched a brow, moving to dry her tiny legs. "Oh? How so?"

"He always says I’m trouble," she grumbled, crossing her arms.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "That’s because you are trouble."

She gasped, eyes going wide with faux betrayal. "Mama!"

You winked at her, then reached for the fresh clothes laid out on the bed. A simple cream-colored dress with delicate embroidery along the edges—something soft and easy to move in.

"Arms up," you instructed.

Avey obeyed, lifting her arms so you could pull the dress over her head. It fell into place around her small frame, and she wiggled her fingers excitedly before spinning in a little circle.

"Pretty?" she asked, peering up at you.

You brushed her curls back from her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Very pretty."

She beamed, then suddenly gasped. "Oh! Shoes!"

You barely had time to react before she sprinted across the room, slipping slightly on the rug as she grabbed a pair of tiny slippers. She shoved her feet into them, grinning triumphantly as she turned back to you.

"Ready!" she announced.

You stood, smoothing out her dress one last time before taking her hands in yours. "No more lakes tonight, understood?"

Avey bit her lip, clearly debating.

"Avey."

"Okay," she relented with a sigh. "No more lakes."

You arched a brow. "Or fountains. Or ponds. Or any water that isn't a bath."

She huffed. "You sound like Daddy."

You smirked. "Good. Now, let’s go before he realizes how much of a mess you made."

Avey giggled, gripping your hand tightly as you led her toward the door—warm, dry, and looking every bit the little princess she was. For now, at least.

You scooped Avey up into your arms, pressing a quick kiss to her damp curls as she giggled, her little arms wrapping around your neck. She was warm now, her fresh dress soft against your skin as she nestled into you.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice lilting with curiosity.

"To my room," you murmured, shifting her slightly in your arms. "So I can braid your hair before you go running off again."

Avey let out a dramatic sigh, flopping her head against your shoulder. "Braiding takes forever."

You chuckled, carrying her through the halls of the Autumn Court’s grand estate. The flickering faelights cast soft golden glows along the walls, the distant hum of the evening carrying through the corridors. Avey tapped her fingers against your shoulder as you reached your chambers, pushing the door open with ease.

The room was warm, the fireplace crackling gently in the corner. You set Avey down on the cushioned stool in front of your vanity, her little legs swinging as she looked at herself in the mirror, making faces.

You grabbed a wooden brush from the vanity, running it gently through her curls. "Hold still, little fox."

Avey pouted but obeyed, only fidgeting slightly as you worked through the tangles. Her hair gleamed under the light, the soft waves slowly smoothing out with each careful stroke.

"You have so much hair," you murmured, brushing it all to one side.

"Daddy says it’s wild like me," Avey said with a grin.

You smiled, gathering three small sections of hair near her temple. "Well, let’s see if we can tame it a little."

You started twisting the strands together, weaving them delicately as your fingers worked with practiced ease. Avey hummed under her breath, her hands resting in her lap as you continued.

"Are you making it fancy?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

"A little," you admitted. "But not too fancy. Just enough to keep it out of your face."

She seemed satisfied with that, watching in the mirror as the intricate twist braids formed, wrapping gently around the side of her head.

"I like when you do my hair," she admitted softly.

Your hands stilled for a moment before you pressed another kiss to the crown of her head. "I like doing your hair, baby."

She smiled, leaning into your touch. You finished securing the braids with a delicate ribbon, tying it neatly before running your hands over her hair one last time.

"There," you said, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. "Now you’re ready."

Avey turned in her seat, reaching up to touch the braids before beaming at you. "Thank you, Mama!"

You brushed your fingers along her cheek. "Always, my love."

And as she hopped off the stool, twirling once in front of the mirror, you swore you saw the same wild spirit in her eyes that Eris carried—bright, untamed, and full of fire.

The door creaked open just as Avey finished her twirl, and a familiar voice filled the room.

"What are you two up to?"

Azer leaned lazily against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest, the usual sharp amusement dancing in his eyes. His red hair—so much like Eris’s—was slightly tousled, as if he’d just rolled out of bed or had been roughhousing with someone, which, knowing him, was highly likely.

Avey gasped dramatically, whirling around to face him. "Look! Mama braided my hair!" She grabbed the ends of the delicate twist braids, her little fingers fumbling to show them off.

Azer pushed off the doorframe, sauntering into the room with the casual confidence of someone who knew exactly how much space they took up. He stopped just beside Avey, reaching down to flick one of her braids lightly.

"Not bad," he mused, tilting his head. "Mama’s got some skill."

You raised a brow at him, folding your arms. "Are you just figuring that out now?"

Azer grinned. "I mean, I guess I could have better ones, but—"

"You have better ones," you interrupted, rolling your eyes. "I’ve been braiding your hair since you could sit still long enough for me to do it."

Avey giggled, stepping closer to her brother and grabbing the hem of his tunic. "Are you gonna get braids, too?" she asked, looking up at him with wide, mischievous eyes.

Azer scoffed. "No way."

"Why not?"

"Because I have style, little fox," he teased, ruffling her hair and promptly messing up a few strands you’d just secured.

Avey let out an indignant squeal, swatting at his hand. "Azer! Mama just fixed it!"

You sighed, already stepping forward to smooth her hair back into place. "Honestly, do you have to torment her all the time?"

"It’s part of my job," Azer said matter-of-factly, stepping back before Avey could retaliate.

Avey crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. "You should get braids, then I’ll forgive you."

Azer chuckled, but something in his gaze softened as he looked at her—his little sister, his shadow, the only person who could truly bend him to her will. With an exaggerated sigh, he turned his back to you, lowering his head just enough.

"Fine. One. One braid," he said, pointing a warning finger at you. "And if anyone sees, I’m blaming you."

Avey cheered, bouncing on her toes. "Yes!"

You just smirked, already gathering a few strands of his unruly red hair. "I think I’ll make it fancy."

"Not too fancy!" he quickly protested, but the way he stayed still—the way he let you do it at all—said more than words ever could.

You ran your fingers through Azer’s thick, unruly red hair, smoothing out any tangles as he knelt on the floor in front of you, his back to you. He was tense at first, his pride making this harder for him than it needed to be, but as your fingers worked methodically, he relaxed, exhaling slowly.

Avey sat cross-legged beside him, watching with rapt attention, a grin tugging at her lips as if she couldn't believe her big brother had actually given in.

"You know," you murmured, carefully sectioning a small strand at the nape of his neck, "for someone so dramatic about this, you sure have nice hair. You should let me do this more often."

Azer groaned. "Don't push your luck, Mama."

You smirked, weaving the first few strands together. "Oh, don’t worry. Avey will make sure this isn’t the last time."

"I will," Avey confirmed with a firm nod.

Azer sighed, but you could feel the way he was holding back a smile.

With steady hands, you continued braiding, the rhythm of it as familiar as breathing. His hair was soft, silky despite his reckless nature, and it took to the braid easily. You made it neat but not too intricate—just enough that it wouldn’t unravel too quickly, but still subtle enough that he wouldn’t feel like a walking target when the others inevitably noticed.

As you reached the end of the braid, you grabbed a small leather cord from the table beside you and tied it off, securing the strands in place. You let your fingers linger for just a second before sitting back, admiring your work.

"Done," you announced, patting his shoulder.

Avey clapped her hands excitedly. "Let me see!"

Azer reached up, running his fingers over the small braid at the base of his neck. He turned his head slightly, catching your expression—your barely contained amusement, the fondness in your eyes.

"Alright, alright," he muttered, standing up and shaking his head, as if trying to see if the braid would just come undone on its own. When it didn’t, he let out another sigh, but there was something softer in his expression as he turned back to you.

"Happy now?"

Avey grinned. "Very."

And despite himself—despite all his protests—Azer smirked, giving you a look that was so much like Eris’s, full of reluctant amusement and deep-seated affection.

You reached out, fixing the collar of his shirt. "You?" you asked, tilting your head at him.

Azer rolled his eyes. "Don’t push it," he muttered, but the way he nudged Avey’s shoulder—the way he didn’t immediately take the braid out—told you everything you needed to know.

Eris strode into the room, his presence as commanding as ever, though there was a rare ease in his expression. He glanced around, expecting movement, maybe the usual last-minute scrambling before departure. Instead, he found the three of you huddled together, suspiciously still. His sharp amber eyes flickered with confusion as he took in the scene—Azer sitting on the floor, Avey perched beside him, and you kneeling behind your son with your hands suspiciously close to his head.

“What exactly is going on here?” he asked slowly, crossing his arms. His gaze zeroed in on Azer, who immediately tensed, sitting up straighter as if caught doing something scandalous.

Avey, on the other hand, had no such reservations. She beamed up at her father. “Mama braided his hair!” she announced proudly.

Eris’s eyebrows lifted, his gaze flicking down to the small, subtle braid nestled at the nape of Azer’s neck. His lips twitched as he fought a smirk, though the glint of amusement in his eyes betrayed him.

Azer groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “This is not a big deal.”

Eris hummed in mock consideration, tilting his head. “No, I suppose it’s not. But it is rather… unexpected.”

You sat back on your heels, wiping your hands on your skirts. “You say that like I haven’t done this to you before.”

Eris gave you a knowing look, one that sent warmth curling low in your stomach. “Yes, but I married you. Azer here still has his pride to think about.”

Azer scowled. “Are we done? Or are we going to analyse my hair?”

Eris chuckled, finally taking a step forward. “I came to check if everyone was packed, but clearly you’re all too busy playing dress-up.”

“I am packed,” Azer shot back.

Avey, of course, had no such claims. She gasped dramatically, grabbing your arm. “I forgot my stuffed fox!”

Eris sighed, shaking his head. “I should’ve known.” Then, looking back at you, he arched a brow. “And you, my love? Or were you too occupied tormenting our son?”

You smirked. “I’m ready. Just waiting on these two.”

Eris exhaled through his nose, clearly holding back a laugh as he ruffled Azer’s hair—a deliberate move to mess with the carefully woven braid. Azer swatted his hand away with a glare, and Avey giggled.

Eris grinned. “Hurry up, little foxes. We leave soon.”

Azer groaned as Eris left the room, muttering something under his breath about insufferable parents while Avey scrambled to her feet, suddenly remembering all the things she needed to bring.

You stood, brushing off your skirts, watching as your daughter darted around the room in a flurry of energy, grabbing her stuffed fox, a book far too heavy for her to actually read, and a small bundle of miscellaneous trinkets she had deemed essential for the trip.

Azer, still seated on the floor, rubbed a hand over his face before looking up at you. “Do we really have to go?”

You sighed, walking over to him and nudging his shoulder with your foot. “Yes, you really have to go.”

He groaned louder this time, tilting his head back against the edge of the bed. “Nyx and Annavella are so annoying.”

“You say that like you’re not just as bad.”

He scowled at you. “They’re worse.”

You rolled your eyes, reaching for his wrist and tugging him up to his feet. “Come on, stop sulking. It won’t be that bad.”

He gave you a flat look. “You do remember that Noelani will be there, right?”

Avey gasped dramatically from the other side of the room. “She likes you!”

Azer looked horrified. “She does not!”

Avey smirked, hugging her stuffed fox. “She does.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing as Azer threw his hands up in exasperation. “This is actual torture.”

You patted his cheek fondly. “Oh, you’ll survive.”

He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like I’d rather not, but he didn’t argue further, which was a miracle in itself.

Eris’s voice echoed down the hall. “Are you three coming or am I leaving you behind?”

Avey gasped again, clutching your arm. “No! Don’t leave me!”

You laughed, hoisting her up onto your hip. “Let’s go before your father actually considers it.”

Azer trudged after you both, muttering complaints all the way down the hall.

-----

The carriage rocked gently as it moved through the Night Court’s mountainous terrain, the familiar scent of crisp night air seeping through the cracks. You could already see the glow of the palace ahead, the elegant structure nestled into the cliffs of Velaris, its towers piercing the dark sky.

Inside the carriage, Avey sat beside you, kicking her feet restlessly against the seat, while Azer slouched on the other side, arms crossed, staring moodily out the window. Eris sat beside him, watching his daughter’s movements with an arched brow.

“Avey,” Eris finally said, his voice calm but firm.

She froze mid-kick, blinking up at him innocently. “Yes, Daddy?”

Eris gave her a pointed look. “What are the rules?”

Avey huffed, tilting her head back dramatically against your shoulder. “Be polite, don’t interrupt, don’t challenge people to fights—”

“Especially not Cassian,” Eris added, rubbing his temple as if already anticipating disaster.

Avey grinned. “But he always accepts!”

Eris sighed. “That is not the point, little fox.”

Avey giggled but quickly straightened her posture when Eris narrowed his eyes at her. “Fine, fine. Be polite, don’t interrupt, no fights, and no climbing on anything.”

“Or anyone,” you added, thinking of the last time you were here when Avey had quite literally scaled Azriel’s leg like a tree.

Avey pouted. “He didn’t mind.”

Eris pinched the bridge of his nose. “Regardless, I minded.”

She sighed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll try to be good.”

Azer snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Avey turned and stuck her tongue out at him.

Eris exhaled sharply. “And you,” he said, looking at Azer now. “I don’t want to hear any complaints about Nyx, Annavella, or Noelani tonight. Understood?”

Azer scowled but grumbled, “Understood.”

You reached over, patting his knee. “Thank you for at least pretending to behave.”

Azer muttered something under his breath, but you chose to ignore it as the carriage slowed, signalling your arrival.

Eris straightened his jacket, casting one last glance at his children. “Be on your best behavior.”

Avey beamed. Azer rolled his eyes. And you—well, you just knew this night was going to be interesting.

The carriage door swung open, revealing a familiar stone courtyard bathed in the soft glow of faelights. The crisp night air rushed in, carrying the scent of rain-soaked earth and blooming jasmine.

Avey was the first to scramble forward, but Eris caught her before she could leap out. He shot her a warning look, and she huffed but obediently let him lift her down with practiced ease. Azer stepped out next, landing with a heavy thud, shoving his hands into his pockets. You followed last, smoothing out your attire before taking Eris’s offered hand as he helped you down.

Velaris’s grand palace loomed before you, dark and elegant, the open doors revealing the warm glow of candlelight inside. At the top of the steps, Rhysand and Feyre stood waiting, both dressed in their court’s signature shades of deep midnight and starlight silver.

Feyre’s lips twitched as she looked between your children. “They’ve grown.”

Rhysand smirked slightly, eyeing Azer’s unamused expression. “Some more than others.”

Azer gritted his teeth, clearly already preparing himself for a long night. You nudged his side in warning.

Eris stepped forward, inclining his head slightly in greeting. “Rhysand. Feyre.”

Rhys nodded back, his expression unreadable. “Eris.”

It was a tentative truce between them, one that had taken years to forge. But despite their alliance, an air of tension always remained—a deep-rooted wariness that neither High Lord would ever fully let go of.

Feyre, ever the diplomat, smiled at you warmly. “It’s good to finally host you properly.”

You returned her smile. “Likewise.”

Before anything else could be said, a flurry of movement caught everyone’s attention as Nyx and Annavella appeared, walking down the steps toward you.

Nyx, now twenty-one, moved with an easy confidence that he’d inherited from his father, his cobalt siphons gleaming against his black leathers. Beside him, Annavella, the same age as Azer, was dressed in a flowing gown of deep violet, her golden-brown curls cascading down her back.

Nyx’s lips curled into a smirk as he clapped Azer on the shoulder. “Miss me?”

Azer gave him a deadpan look. “Like a hole in the head.”

Annavella rolled her eyes. “And yet you never change.”

Before Azer could retort, another voice cut in.

“You made it.”

Cassian’s deep, amused voice carried across the courtyard as he and Nesta descended the steps. Azriel followed a few paces behind them, his shadows curling slightly in the cool air.

Avey’s face lit up, and before Eris could stop her, she bolted straight for Cassian.

“Cassian!”

Cassian barely had time to brace himself before Avey launched into his arms. He caught her effortlessly, laughing. “There’s my favorite little Vanserra.”

Eris sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is exactly what I was talking about.”

Cassian grinned unapologetically, ruffling Avey’s hair. “Come on, Eris, don’t act like she doesn’t get it from you.”

Eris muttered something under his breath, but Avey just giggled, clinging to Cassian like a koala.

Nesta crossed her arms, eyeing her mate. “Put her down before she starts thinking she can get away with anything.”

Cassian smirked. “Oh, but she can.”

Eris looked like he was deeply regretting every life choice that had led him here.

Meanwhile, Azriel’s shadows curled toward Avey, brushing against her arms. She gasped, twisting to look at them. “Hello again!”

Azriel’s lips twitched slightly. “You remember them?”

Avey nodded eagerly. “They’re my friends.”

Azer groaned, rubbing his temples. “Mother above, this is going to be exhausting.”

You just smiled, squeezing his shoulder. “Welcome to diplomacy, my dear.”

A rush of footsteps echoed through the courtyard as two more figures appeared at the top of the stairs—Andros and Evander, Cassian and Nesta’s sons.

Andros, the older of the two at nineteen, had the same broad build as his father, his wings tucked neatly behind him. His dark hair was tousled, as if he had just flown in from training, and his golden-brown eyes gleamed with mischief. He had inherited Nesta’s sharp features but wore Cassian’s signature cocky grin.

Evander, only a year younger, had a slightly leaner build but carried himself with the same easy confidence. His hazel eyes flicked over the gathered group, his mouth twitching as he took in Azer’s unamused expression.

“Well, well,” Andros drawled as he descended the steps, wings flaring slightly. “Look what the wind dragged in.”

Azer groaned, already regretting everything about this visit. “Is it too late to turn around and leave?”

Evander smirked, clapping a hand on Azer’s shoulder. “Afraid so. You’re stuck with us now.”

Avey, still in Cassian’s arms, wriggled excitedly. “Andros! Evander!”

Cassian huffed as she all but launched herself at Andros. He caught her easily, spinning her around before setting her down with a dramatic bow. “Princess Avey, looking as ferocious as ever.”

Avey puffed up proudly. “I am ferocious.”

Evander ruffled her hair. “You’re definitely something.”

Eris sighed, crossing his arms. “This is exactly why I warned her about manners.”

Andros grinned. “She has excellent manners. Just… selective use of them.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “That’s the problem.”

Azer, meanwhile, had taken a half-step away, clearly prepared to avoid whatever chaos his sister and the two Illyrian males were about to cause. But Andros, never one to let an opportunity pass, draped an arm around Azer’s shoulders.

“You know, I think I missed you, Vanserra.”

Azer shot him a deadpan look. “That’s unfortunate for you.”

Evander laughed. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

Azriel, who had been silently observing, finally spoke, his shadows curling lazily around him. “Let’s see if you’re still saying that by the end of the night.”

Azer muttered under his breath, “Cauldron, save me.”

The group made their way through the grand halls of the Night Court’s palace, footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors. The towering ceilings, carved with intricate constellations, seemed to glow under the soft faelights lining the walls. Despite Azer’s reluctance about this visit, even he had to admit—the place had style.

Rhysand led the way, walking with that effortless grace that spoke of his power. “Your rooms have been prepared in the guest wing,” he said smoothly, glancing over his shoulder at them. “I assume you’ll find them comfortable.”

Eris, walking beside you with Avey’s small hand in his, gave a slow nod. “We’ll see.” His tone wasn’t harsh, but it held that natural edge, that careful reservation he always carried outside of Autumn.

Avey, meanwhile, looked like she wanted to touch everything. She twisted in Eris’s grip, her wide amber eyes darting to the draped tapestries, the sparkling chandeliers, the darkened garden views beyond the windows. Azer nudged her as they walked, whispering, “If you break something, I’m not covering for you.”

Avey just grinned, whispering back, “You always cover for me.”

Rhysand led them up a spiraling staircase, gesturing down a long hallway. “Azer, your room is here,” he said, opening a door to a spacious chamber with deep sapphire accents and a view of the mountains. A large bed sat in the centre, draped in plush, midnight-blue blankets, and a small seating area was arranged near a balcony.

Azer glanced around, nodding slightly. Not bad.

Before he could step inside, Avey tugged on his sleeve. “Where’s mine?”

Rhys smirked, leading them a few doors down to another room. This one was lighter—rich purples and silvers, a few plush pillows scattered on the bed. Avey gasped and immediately ran inside, flopping onto the bed like she was testing its bounce.

“It’s so soft!” she exclaimed.

Eris sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Avey.”

She grinned up at him. “What? You said not to break anything. I’m not breaking anything.”

Rhysand chuckled, turning to you and Eris. “And yours is just ahead.”

He led you both to a grand chamber at the end of the hall. It was elegant but understated, done in deep, romantic hues. A large fireplace flickered in the corner, the carved wood furniture polished to perfection. The balcony doors were slightly ajar, allowing a cool breeze to drift inside.

Rhysand gestured inside with an amused smile. “If anything is not to your liking, feel free to send a complaint directly to my mate. I won’t listen, but Feyre is far more accommodating.”

You rolled your eyes with a soft laugh. “Noted.”

Eris simply exhaled through his nose, stepping inside and surveying the room. “It’ll do.”

Rhysand placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Such high praise, Vanserra.”

Eris didn’t dignify him with a response, instead turning toward you as Avey’s delighted giggles echoed down the hall. “Do you think she’ll last ten minutes before getting into trouble?”

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Five.”

Azer, still lingering in the doorway of his room, called, “Two. At best.”

It was less than two minutes before a loud crash echoed down the hallway.

You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply before turning toward Eris, who already looked exhausted. He pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath, while Rhysand just smirked.

“Well,” Azer sighed, leaning casually against his doorway, “that didn’t take long.”

Eris shot him a warning look before pushing past you, striding down the hall toward the sound of what was probably destruction. You followed quickly, heart already sinking as you turned the corner and saw Avey standing in the middle of her room—innocently—while a large, ornate vase lay shattered at her feet.

Avey, to her credit, at least looked a little guilty. “It was an accident,” she said quickly, hands clasped behind her back.

Rhysand, standing beside you, let out a low chuckle. “That,” he murmured, “was an expensive accident.”

Azer sighed dramatically. “Told you.”

Eris’s jaw tightened as he crossed his arms. “Aveline.” His voice was low, measured.

The use of her full name made Avey straighten. “I didn’t mean to!” she protested. “I was just—spinning, and then I tripped, and then the table wobbled, and then boom.” She spread her arms for effect.

Cassian, who had wandered in with Nesta and Azriel behind him, snorted. “Gotta say, that sounds a lot like how Nyx used to be at that age.”

“I never broke anything that expensive,” Nyx muttered from the doorway, arms crossed as he took in the damage.

Nesta let out a long sigh before turning toward you. “Would you like some wine?”

Eris cut in before you could answer. “No. She’d like an explanation from our daughter about why she can’t stand still for one minute without causing a scene.”

Avey, still standing there with wide, innocent eyes, tilted her head. “Because I’m seven?”

Silence.

Azriel made a choked sound that might have been a laugh before turning away, shoulders shaking slightly.

Eris ran a hand down his face. You, on the other hand, took a long breath and crouched down to Avey’s level. “Sweetheart,” you said gently, “this isn’t our home. We have to be respectful of other people’s things, okay?”

Avey shuffled her feet. “I was being respectful. The vase got in my way.”

Nesta exhaled through her nose. “Oh, I like her.”

Rhysand, ever the amused host, simply waved a hand. The shattered pieces of the vase lifted from the ground, reforming smoothly before settling back onto the table, completely whole. He smirked down at Avey. “Try not to destroy my house before dinner, little Vanserra.”

Avey beamed. “No promises.”

Eris let out a slow, measured breath. “We are never visiting again.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples before glancing at Rhysand. “We’ll cover the cost,” you said, exasperated. “And anything else she manages to break before we leave.”

Rhysand chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. “Consider it a gift.”

You arched a brow. “A gift?”

He smirked, tilting his head toward Avey, who was now whispering something to Evander, her wide grin telling you she was already plotting her next grand adventure. “Yes. A gift for the sheer entertainment she’s about to provide.”

Eris let out a long breath beside you. “I don’t find it very entertaining.”

Cassian clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “That’s because you’re the poor bastard raising her.”

Avey perked up at that, turning toward her father. “Poor?” She gasped dramatically. “Are we poor now?”

Azer, from his place against the doorway, howled with laughter. “No, but you might be by the time we leave.”

Eris shot him a sharp look, but before he could speak, Avey was already looking up at you, big-eyed and curious. “Mama, if we’re poor, does that mean I can’t get a pet?”

You groaned. Rhysand laughed. Azriel, standing in the corner, only shook his head.

“I’ll set up a damages account,” you muttered, half to yourself.

Eris pinched the bridge of his nose. “Make it a large one.”

Rhysand, still grinning, waved a lazy hand. “Oh, don’t bother. I’ll just send you the bill when you leave.”

Eris shot him a deadpan look. “How generous.”

Rhys chuckled, but before he could retort, Avey tugged at your sleeve. “Mama,” she whispered conspiratorially, “if we are poor, maybe Uncle Lucien will buy me a pet instead.”

Azer, barely holding in his laughter, leaned down. “Go ask him. See what he says.”

Eris pointed a warning finger at him. “You encourage her one more time, and I’ll—”

“What?” Azer challenged, smirking. “Throw me in the lake? Again?”

Avey gasped. “You threw him in the lake?”

Eris exhaled, long and slow. “I’m going to throw myself in the lake.”

Cassian, grinning, slung an arm over Eris’s shoulder. “If you do, at least make it entertaining for us.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Alright, enough.” She glanced down at Avey, then at you. “Dinner’s in an hour. Maybe keep this one occupied until then.”

You glanced at Avey, who beamed innocently up at you, hands clasped behind her back.

Occupied. Right.

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Come on, troublemaker.” You took her hand, guiding her down the hall toward your rooms.

As you walked away, Azer called after you, voice full of laughter. “Don’t forget to set aside extra for the damages bill!”

You didn’t look back, but you did send a sharp glare over your shoulder. He only grinned.

You led Avey through the dimly lit hallways of the Night Court’s palace, your hand wrapped gently around her much smaller one. The echoes of chatter and laughter from the others faded behind you as you walked toward the guest wing.

Avey’s steps were light, nearly bouncing with each one, her seven-year-old energy never seeming to wane. She swung your hand back and forth, humming under her breath, her mind clearly still buzzing with whatever mischief she was planning next.

When you finally reached your room, you pushed open the heavy wooden door and guided her inside. The Night Court’s guest rooms were just as grand as you expected—deep purples and blues woven into the tapestries, the furniture dark and rich with elegant carvings. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering golden light against the walls.

Avey plopped herself onto the edge of the large bed without hesitation, kicking her feet back and forth as she looked around. “It’s pretty,” she admitted, tilting her head. “But our home is better.”

You smiled softly, sitting beside her. “Of course it is. Your father made sure of that.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “I still don’t get why we have to stay here so long.”

You brushed a loose curl away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “It’s important. These alliances—”

“—are important for the court. I know.” She sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. “But it’s boring.”

You laughed, smoothing a hand over her wild red hair. “You sound just like your brother.”

Avey perked up, her sharp little fox-like grin appearing. “Maybe Azer and I should ditch again.”

You gave her a look. “Absolutely not.”

She giggled, rolling onto her stomach and propping her chin on her hands. “Fine. What can we do then?”

You tapped a finger against her nose. “Well, for starters, I can fix your hair. It’s a mess.”

She gasped, swatting your hand away with an exaggerated scowl. “It is not!”

You simply arched a brow, reaching over to pluck a leaf from her curls. Her eyes widened slightly before she let out a sheepish giggle.

“Okay, maybe a little.”

You shook your head with a smile and patted your lap. “Come here, little fox.”

With a dramatic sigh, she scrambled up and settled herself in front of you, small and warm against your legs. As you reached for her hair, she leaned her head back to look up at you, grinning.

“Can you make it fancy?”

You smirked, already separating the strands. “Of course.”

You gently combed your fingers through Avey’s wild curls, smoothing them as best you could before you began weaving the strands into a proper braid. The firelight cast a soft glow over the room, warming the deep blues and purples around you.

“Alright,” you murmured, sectioning her hair with practiced ease. “But you have to sit still for this, Avey. No squirming.”

She sighed dramatically but didn’t argue, her little hands settling on her lap. For a few moments, she stayed perfectly still—until, of course, she didn’t.

Her foot started bouncing first, tapping lightly against the floor. Then she wiggled her shoulders, twisting slightly to look up at you. “How long is this going to take?”

You pressed a hand to her shoulder, turning her forward again. “It takes as long as you let me work.”

She groaned, but you felt her settle again, at least for a moment. As you began braiding, she suddenly whispered, “I am being calm.”

You snorted softly, fingers continuing their steady work. “Avey, you have not been calm a day in your life.”

She gasped, twisting again to look at you. “I have too!”

You lifted an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? When?”

She blinked, mouth opening and closing as she tried to think of an answer. “Um—yesterday.”

You tugged lightly at her braid, a teasing correction. “Yesterday, you and Azer stole one of your father’s hounds and tried to race it through the halls.”

Avey giggled, completely unrepentant. “Okay, fine. The day before yesterday.”

“The day before yesterday, you convinced a servant that the kitchens were on fire so you could sneak extra pastries.”

She burst into laughter, tipping forward slightly. “Oh yeah! That was a good one.”

You shook your head, exasperated but smiling. “You see my point?”

She huffed, dramatic as ever. “Fine. Maybe I don’t like sitting still.”

“I noticed,” you teased, giving her braid a final twist. “But you can learn. And tonight, I need you to at least try to be patient.”

Avey groaned, slumping slightly. “I hate patience.”

You chuckled, tying off the braid and running your fingers over the woven strands. “I know, little fox. But I also know you can do it.”

She turned slightly, peering up at you with bright, mischievous eyes. “Maybe if I try really hard…you’ll let me ditch again later?”

You flicked her ear, making her squeak. “Absolutely not.”

You turned Avey gently by the shoulders so she was facing you, her bright, mischievous eyes still sparkling with the remnants of her laughter. But you gave her a look—a serious one—and the smile on her face dimmed just a little.

“Avey,” you started, smoothing your hands over the tops of her braids, “I mean it this time. You really have to behave tonight.”

She groaned dramatically, tilting her head back. “Ugh, why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Because we know you,” you said simply, tapping a finger against her nose. “You and Azer are two sides of the same coin, and if I leave you to your own devices, I know you’ll get into trouble.”

Her lips pursed in a pout, arms crossing over her chest. “That’s not true. Azer gets into way more trouble than me.”

You lifted an eyebrow. “You lit your curtains on fire last month because you wanted to ‘see what would happen.’”

She flinched, eyes darting away. “That…that was an experiment.”

“Avey,” you said, voice patient but firm. “This isn’t just any visit. This is an important meeting between courts, and I need you to try to be calm and well-mannered. I know it’s hard for you to sit still, but you have to be polite.”

She let out a dramatic sigh, flopping back slightly. “But it’s so boring.”

You held back a smile, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “It doesn’t have to be. You’ll have Nyx and Annavella to keep you company. Even Andros and Evander will be there.”

Her face scrunched up. “Evander is mean.”

“He is not mean, he just likes teasing you because you react.”

She huffed, looking away. “Maybe.”

You tilted her chin back toward you, waiting until she met your gaze again. “Avey. I need your word. No tricks, no sneaking off, no setting things on fire.”

She blinked at you, silent for a long moment, before muttering under her breath, “That last one is very specific.”

“Because I know you,” you repeated, trying not to laugh.

She sighed again, but after a moment, she straightened her spine and looked you in the eye. “Fine. I promise.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Good. Because if you break that promise, your father will be the one dealing with you.”

Avey froze, eyes going slightly wide. “... You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

She swallowed, then nodded vigorously. “Okay. No sneaking. No tricks. No fire.”

“Good girl,” you murmured, smoothing down her dress one last time.

-----

Rhysand’s office was dimly lit, the warm glow from the lanterns casting flickering shadows across the mahogany desk and the deep violet curtains that framed the massive windows. Outside, the Night Court’s sky was inky black, stars glimmering like shattered diamonds, but inside, the air was thick with the scent of aged whiskey and crackling firewood.

Cassian leaned back in one of the plush armchairs, his boot propped up on the low table between them, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “So,” he drawled, eyes flicking toward Eris with a smirk, “how long until one of our kids tries to kill each other?”

Azriel, standing near the window, gave a soft huff of amusement but said nothing, simply taking a slow sip of his drink. His shadows curled lazily around his shoulders, as if even they were relaxed in the presence of old friends.

Rhysand, perched behind his desk, arched a brow at Eris, who was sitting opposite Cassian, fingers tapping against his glass in thought. “Azer and Annavella in the same house?” Rhys mused, his violet eyes gleaming. “I give it two days before something catches fire.”

Eris scoffed, lifting his drink to his lips. “If we’re being honest, I’m more worried about Avey.” He took a long sip before lowering the glass. “She’s seven, but she’s clever—and she’s the one Azer indulges the most.”

Cassian snorted. “Sounds familiar.” He shot a glance at Azriel, whose shadows rustled in what could only be amusement.

Azriel finally spoke, voice quiet but edged with dry humor. “Sounds like she gets it from you.”

Eris smirked, swirling his whiskey. “That girl was born scheming. I blame her mother.”

Rhysand chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned forward to pour himself another drink. “Speaking of, how is your mate handling all this? I imagine she’s already trying to keep Azer from fighting anyone before the night is over.”

Eris exhaled sharply through his nose. “She’s trying, but Azer…” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He has my temper. And your son has yours.”

Rhys’s smirk didn’t falter, but there was a knowing glint in his gaze. “He does. Which means we’re in for quite the next few days.”

Cassian clinked his glass against Azriel’s, grinning. “We should place bets.”

Azriel shot him a look, but there was amusement there, lurking beneath the usual shadows.

Eris simply groaned, tilting his head back against the chair. “If my son sets something on fire, I am not taking responsibility.”

Rhysand only laughed, lifting his drink. “We’ll see about that.”

BUT i think i might make this a series of the events of their kids growing up to be leaders....