#Nesta appears later

[hieragalbatorixdottir]

I won't actually write the thing (probably) so here's an unedited snippet under the cut, Eris' POV

warning: little nsfw, naked people, implied BDSM

He knocked. The door were opened. By Cassian.

And holy fuck the sight.

The large writing desk had been cleaned, all papers and books gone. Instead, Azriel kneeled there, tied up, not being able to move an inch. Eris couldn't help himself, his gaze dropped lower to observe the semi-hard cock pressing against the iron cage it was trapped in and the powerful thighs that were just too lickable for his own good.

Dull thud came up from behind him. Followed closely behind by a click of lock. He felt goosebumps all over his ribcage. Slid his hands into pockets just to be sure. He felt thankful for it the second Cassian's body pressed to his back, feeling the male's hard cock on his ass. Trying to apear casual, Eris laid his head on Cassian's shoulder so he could look him in the eye.

[seleneprince]

A Court of Shadows and Blood Chapter 3

The hallways are carved out of pale stone, lined on either side by torches. No shadowy spots to hide. It's a wide open space, but she barely has the chance to appreciate the details. The eery silence that reigns in there is only interupted by the echo of her hurried steps as she runs.

She doesn’t know where she’s going. Every hallway looks the same. She’s taken several turns already, but can’t, for the life of her, figure out where she is.

But there’s no other option. She has to keep running and hope she finds a way out—or else stay locked up until the monster tires of her and ends her life. Especially now that she’s given him very good reasons to do so.

Nothing has gone as it should since she left for the Wall. Nesta thought that embarking on a life-threatening journey to rescue Feyre was the craziest thing she’d ever do.

Until she was captured by a Fae made of deadly shadows and locked in his opulent room. Until she tried to strangle that same Fae with her bare hands. Until she chained him to his own bed with the very metal that had once been locked around her ankle.

Nesta isn’t naïve enough to believe it will hold him down forever. He’s an ancient being, filled with power. She doesn’t know how, but she can feel it—perhaps the same way she can see through spells.

'Have you ever witnessed something really strange that you had no explanation for, but no one else noticed? Things that just didn't make sense in your mind?'

He obviously knows the reason. It unsettles her deeply that he’s aware of some hidden part of herself, something she doesn’t even fully understand. For someone to know you like that is dangerous. She learnt that the hard way, long ago.

She skids around a corner, nearly slipping as she pushes forward, her pulse drumming louder than her footsteps. The torches flicker as she passes, shadows trailing her like phantoms.

She thinks of Feyre, her sister’s face flashing in her mind, and she clenches her fists, gritting her teeth. Nesta will get out of this wretched place and find her, somehow. She will drag her back home, away from these monsters and this godforsaken land.

That thought pushes her fear down and drives her forward. The iron poker burns her hands as she grips it harder—it’s the only weapon she could find in that room. She’s been planning her escape ever since those hellish shadowy creatures spawned in the room and dragged her from the bed.

She had no way of knowing what time it was, only that she’d been sleeping shortly before they arrived. She’d dreamed of Feyre, of Elain, and for a moment, all was well. Then the dream twisted into a nightmare of black claws pinning her to the bed by her throat, choking her slowly as they dug into her skin. A pair of violet eyes stared at her with cruel amusement while blood trickled down her neck. She tried to move, but her body wouldn’t respond. It was all pain, darkness, pure agony.

She woke up drenched in sweat, gasping for air. Her eyes took in the room, fixing on the orange flames crackling in the fireplace. She buried her face in her hands and, for the first time since she’d left, she sobbed.

She had already stopped by the time those Fae materialized in front of her, her eyes still red and puffy. They were made of shadows and floated around the room, their features barely discernable, save for their loose, flowing cobweb gowns. They didn't say a word even when they reached for her. She tried to fight them off, get their cold inhuman hands off her, but to no avail. The grip around her forearms remained firm.

She knew exactly who had sent them. Shadows were obviously his domain. One of them crouched down, tugged at the chain a couple of times, and unlocked it, freeing her ankle from its weight. The relief was short-lived, though, as they dragged her across the room and into a nondescript chamber, where they stripped her bare and bathed her roughly.

The sensation of hands tearing away her clothes and touching her skin stirred panic and fury, making her lash out in an attempt to push them off. But it was useless. The two shadows forced her to stay still in the tub as they scrubbed her. Then they wrapped her in a thin robe and, to her confusion, began to paint her face and brush her hair.

Their brushes were cold and tickling, their shadowy grips firm whenever she squirmed. They didn’t speak, offering no explanation for their actions—though Nesta had no doubt it was yet another sick game of that bastard.

When they were finished, she hardly recognized her reflection. She looked regal, reminiscent of the noble girl she’d once been. Her face was artfully decorated with cosmetics that subtly enhanced her features, just enough to suit a lady’s propriety.

The shadows didn’t stop there, of course. They seized her again, wrapping her in a dress. It was tight around her torso and flowed loosely toward the ground, cascading over her legs like a sea of stars. The design was unlike anything she’d ever worn—or would have if she had a choice.

"What’s this? Why are you…?" But before she could finish, they dragged her back to the bed, locked the chain around her ankle once more, and vanished as soon as they did so.

She was alone again, processing what had just happened. In their absence, she could feel the nightmare flooding back—the suffocation, the pain, the raw terror as she was killed, again and again. Those violet eyes full of evil.

Nesta decided she couldn’t stay there any longer, trapped as a plaything for these faeries, awaiting her inevitable demise at their hands. She would not let that nightmare become her reality.

Hit with a surge of determination and desperation, Nesta grabbed the metal chain with both hands and began pulling at it repeatedly. Her hands ached, her ankle throbbed, but she didn’t stop. She ignored everything but the relentless clink of the metal as she tried to tear it free, focusing on the sound it made when she tugged at certain angles.

Finally, the cold air hit the raw skin of her ankle, and the chain fell to the ground. She almost sobbed again.

But she wasn’t done. Carefully, she set one foot on the floor, testing her strength. Her eyes shifted to the poker by the fireplace, lying close enough to the flames to sear anyone’s skin if touched on the wrong side. Faeries have skin, too, after all. And it's not so much different from human's, if her experience with her hands around someone's throat were anything to go by.

She began to formulate her plan right there. It was very risky, downright suicidal, but at that point she was ready to try anything for her freedom. So she returned to the bed, hid the chain under the skirt and waited for him.

She still can't believe it worked.

Another turn. Her lungs burn, and the air feels thicker, heavier, with each step. She’s in a maze meant to ensnare her, to lead her back to where she started, drive her to insanity. Her thoughts race, searching for any sense of direction, any logic in this place.

But nothing about it makes sense. Seems to be the rule of the faerie world.

She rounds another corner and stops dead. Ahead, two guards are stationed at the end of the hall, clad in dark armor that reflects none of the torchlight. They haven't seen her yet, too engrossed in their conversation.

Nesta takes a step back and presses her back against the wall beneath it, concealing her body with the shadows. Sucking in deep breaths behind her mouth, she glances back down the corridor. They're still there, seemingly unaware of her presence.

She wonders how it works. Don't faeries smell humans from miles away? That's the only explanation on how her captor found her the way he did. And she knows by what he said that he could, in fact, smell her like a piece of meat. But these guards haven't so much as glanced in her direction. ¿Maybe not all faeries can sense humans?

She tries to make out pieces of what they're talking about. Their voices are the only sound in the hallway, so it's easy for her to listen. Perhap she can hear something useful, a hint to leave this place.

"...to leave. He's...bad mood."

"...prick. Almost worse...other."

"Waiting...company."

They chuckle. A sound so unnerving it makes her skin crawl.

"Vanserra...most dangerous."

Vanserra. A name. It means nothing to her, but they way they say it carries a certain air of authority. Whoever it is, it's someone they have to obey.

Her mind is running through multiple possibilities, strategies to proceed. She has to act now. Every minute she spends here without moving is more time for that monster to find her. She's not that foolish to think the iron poker in her hand will stop him.

Suddenly, the guards begin to move towards her and Nesta's blood runs cold. She turns, sprinting down another passageway, uncaring that they surely heard her now.

She’s running blind again, every hallway an endless stretch of pale stone and torchlight. Her mind flits back to the Fae chained in his bed, his rage as he realized what she’d done. She’s not sure if she’s more terrified of his revenge or the despair of knowing she might never escape this place. That it was all for nothing.

The hall narrows, and ahead, she catches a dim glimmer. She sprints toward it, pressing her hands against the wall. There's a slight fissure in the rock, opening onto a crudely carved, dark subterranean passageway. It's large enough for one person to squeeze through—so jagged and rough that it's obviously not used often.

It’s deathly silent, with a faint, warm breeze whistling through. The sound of footsteps and angry shouts approaching spurs her into action; she squeezes herself into a narrow opening, holding her breath to fit. She remains perfectly still as the guards pass her hiding spot. When their footsteps fade, she moves on. The iron rod scrapes against the stone, and she almost feels sorry for the high-quality fabric of the dress getting ruined. Almost.

The passageway narrows, forcing her to suck in her stomach to keep moving. The smell of burning wood reaches her nose, and distant sounds—voices—grow clearer. Light seeps through cracks in the stone, giving her glimpses of the other side.

Bedrooms. This passageway connects to other fae’s bedrooms. She wants to scream.

Nesta closes her eyes for a moment, steeling herself. She can’t fall apart now. She's already here. Turning back is not an option anymore. And she has to find Feyre.

She keeps moving. The voices fade, and her body bumps into a solid wall. The smell of burning wood is stronger now, drifting from just beyond it.

She presses her hands against the wall, pushing with all her strength until it slides aside. A hidden door, then. As soon as she steps out, it closes behind her.

Before her it's a magnificent bedroom, entirely different from the one she was locked in, yet equally beautiful.

The color scheme is rich in golds and reds, with warm orange hues. Another king-sized bed stands at the center, adorned with exquisite bed linens embroidered in flame-like patterns. The posts are made of real gold, and the fire blazing in the enormous hearth beside it casts an ethereal glow across the room. A large, intricately carved wardrobe stands nearby, its surface adorned with thorny patterns. A small desk is cluttered with scattered papers and books, yet looks as expensive as everything else.

If Nesta were asked to describe it, she’d say this room is made of fire and fury. It radiates a palpable power, as though the very walls are steeped in the essence of whoever resides here. The heat from the fire makes her skin prickle, and a strange, welcome warmth settles over her, seeping into her bones.

She walks around slowly, eyes scanning for exits. She notes a large set of double doors to her right—likely the main entrance—and a smaller, inconspicuous door to the left. Her heartbeat quickens, calculating the odds.

But then she hears faint footsteps, muffled but approaching. Her gaze darts to the wardrobe, and without another thought, she darts toward it, slipping inside just as the door swings open. She presses herself against the back of the wardrobe, the scent of polished wood and faintly spiced cologne surrounding her. Through the crack between the doors, she watches.

A figure steps inside, tall and imposing, dressed in an elegant jacket of scarlet and gold. His movements are fluid, controlled. His gaze sweeps over the room, his expression sharp and focused, as if he senses something amiss.

Nesta holds her breath, willing herself invisible. She grips the iron poker with both hands, ready to pounce.

The Fae moves to the bed, then over to the fireplace, seemingly lost in thought. His fingers trail along the desk, tracing patterns on the scattered papers. And then, he turns on his back and leaves. The sound of doors closing resonate in the room.

Nesta waits until she's sure he's gone. She steps out of the wardrobe carefully, glancing in both directions. Her heart pounds so hard she can feel it in her throat.

Standing in the middle of the room, she watches the flames flicker. Their light reflects off her dress, casting an orange glow that transforms the fabric into the hues of a sunset rather than a night sky. She likes it better.

Suddenly, the flames sink in size and she barely has time to react before she feels a strong hand grabbing her by the arm, grip iron-clad.

"Well, well" a voice low and silk-smooth drawls in her ear, breath hot against her skin. "What do we have here? A little bird who..."

Nesta doesn't even think it.

She whips around and swings the poker, the sharp, burning end aimed blindly at him.

The iron rod connects, glancing off his arm before he jerks back with a low, furious hiss. She stumbles, nearly losing her grip on the poker, but she doesn’t let go. Instead, she takes a shaky step back, holding it between them like a weapon. Her pulse pounds like thunder, her gaze locked on the Fae.

The flames leap higher in the fireplace as he steadies himself, one hand cradling his injured arm. His face twists, not in pain but in something sharper, colder—a kind of restrained fury that makes her blood run cold.

"Quite the little fighter, aren’t you?" he says, his voice low and dripping with dark amusement, though his eyes burn with ire. "I assume you're not the female I was expecting tonight."

He speaks in a unfamiliar accent, different from the other Fae man she knows. His voice is rich and deep in a way that would be attractive in an human man, but coming from someone like him, Nesta refuses to feel anything.

Just by looking at him she knows he’s of the same status—or close��to her captor. He’s taller than any man she’s ever met, with dark red hair perfectly cut over his nape and amber eyes that resemble two flaming orbs. He's dressed even more elegantly than the other bastard, and Nesta has the knowledge to see he has a refined taste and takes pride in his appearance.

Not to mention she can practically feel the power thrumming off him, as palpable as the fire’s warmth at her back. This is no ordinary fae—he’s one of the important kind. The masters.

And this is his bedroom.

Nesta feels the urge to scream again.

He huffs, releasing his injured arm, and she catches sight of a thin trail of blood trickling down his elegantly stitched sleeve. It’s a dark shade of red—almost black—a stark reminder that he’s not human, but a monster.

She holds the iron rod between them, keeping it firmly pressed against his chest, though she knows it’s futile. The sharp end digs in, and he raises an eyebrow, glancing from the poker to her with a look of faint bewilderment.

"Who are you?" it takes everything within her to keep her voice steady.

He snorts. "I believe I should be the one asking that, birdie. This is my bedroom."

Nesta bites her lips, her pulse beating in her ears. He doesn't look threatening, but that doesn't mean he's safe. Yet there's something oddly comforting about this room, about its aura. She can't explain it, but it just feels alluring to her. Just like the man in front of her.

'Focus, you idiot. He's not a man. He's a predator.'

She straightens her spine, trying to appear taller and more confident than she truly feels. She’s no fighter, despite the iron rod clenched in her fingers. Her weapons have always been her words—and she doesn't know to what extent they're useful against faeries.

The fae draws a twisted grin, his fire eyes gleaming with menace.

"How interesting," he takes a step closer to her, the iron pressing further into his chest. "I wasn't aware the Night court kept human pets now."

The fury that flares up at being called "pet" dims in confusion as she processes his words. ¿Night Court? Is that where that fae of shadows comes from?

The red-haired fae picks up on her shock instantly, his grin widening as if he’s uncovered something amusing and entirely to his advantage.

"Oh?" he drawls, a hint of mockery in his voice. "Don’t tell me you didn’t even know? You're dressed like one of them. A wonder we haven't heard of you." He says the last part more to himself, as though she’s little more than a spectator to his thoughts.

Nesta grits her teeth, keeping her grip on the poker tight. "I don’t care about that. I only want to leave."

The fae’s expression shifts, some trace of real interest sparking in his eyes, though his amusement remains. "Leave? And where exactly would you go, little mortal? This place isn’t exactly known for its... hospitality to uninvited guests. Specially if they're humans. She has a...let's say strong dislike for your kind."

He lifts his fingers to trace the iron rod lightly, as though inspecting it. "Besides, did no one tell you it’s rather rude to wander into another male’s chambers?" His tone drips with sarcasm, but Nesta catches the veiled threat in his words.

She truly has the worst luck in the world. Jumping from one sick bastard to another. ¿When will this end?

Nesta’s pulse races. She can feel the power simmering just beneath his polished exterior, as potent as the fae she’s managed to escape from. Her hand tightens on the rod as she meets his gaze defiantly. "You didn’t answer my question. Who are you?"

For a moment, he simply stares at her, the smirk fading as he watches her face with sharp, unreadable eyes. Then, he inclines his head in a graceful bow.

"Call me Eris," he says, voice low and almost purring. "And you, little bird?"

Nesta hesitates. Giving her name to a Fae is a horrible idea, or so she's been taught. But she also thought iron could hurt them and she saw her captor holding it with his own hands to chain her. She's not sure what to do.

But he's given her something more than the other male has. So maybe she can allow herself to be a bit nice.

"I'll tell you if you let me out of here," she replies after a beat, keeping her chin high.

Eris’s smile returns, smug and unbelieving, as if he’s found something truly valuable. "Seriously?" he repeats, letting a short huff of amusement. "I just gave you mine. It's not fair I don't get to know yours."

Her eyes narrow. "You could be lying to me for all I know. Some knowledge is dangerous in the wrong hands."

He stares at her. The corner of his mouth twitches.

"I agree," he clasps his hands behind him, leaning forward. The end of the poker cutting slightly through his exquisite jacket. He doesn't seem to care. "So pray tell, why should I let you leave after telling you my name, mhm? It's dangerous knowledge, after all."

She tenses.

"What could I possibly do against you? I'm just a human."

He takes a step closer to her.

"A human dressed like a member of the Night court, who just intruded in my bedroom with a weapon. Forgive me for being a bit skeptical."

His gaze never leaves hers, and though Nesta tries to keep her stance steady, she feels herself shrinking back involuntarily. His body is on the way to her exit, but it dawns to her that, even if she managed to get pass him by some miracle, there could be more faes outside.

She doesn't have time to think that far ahead. She needs to act now.

The fire cracks behind her, the comforting smell of burning wood caressing her nose. She can do this.

"Please, I just want to go home." Fighting back hasn’t worked so far, so maybe playing the role of a pitiful, scared human will "He kidnapped me, kept me locked in his room like a beast. I escaped by sheer miracle, but I know he's looking for me now."

His eyebrows rise briefly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before it vanishes, replaced by an unimpressed stare. If Nesta wasn't so well versed in those same tactics, she would've missed it.

She knows Fae look down on her kind, see them as inferior beings. If she plays on that role, she might get the upper hand here.

Eris watches her, the flickering firelight casting his sharp features in a golden glow. His smirk fades and his eyes narrow slightly, as though he’s debating whether or not to believe her tale.

"How exactly did you escape? I know he wouldn't have let you go so easily. And there's no way you could've overpower him."

Shit. He’s cornering her with that question. If she tells him the truth—that she outwitted a powerful fae and chained him to the bed—there’s a risk he’ll see her as a genuine threat and act accordingly. Or worse, he won’t believe her at all. And hand her over to her captor.

Everything's been a risk since she got out of that room. She can't falter. Not now. Not when might be so close to freedom.

"When his servants came to dress me, they unlocked the chain, and forgot to lock it again when they left. I saw an opportunity. I grabbed the poker and ran away before he returned." she sighs. "I almost got caught by some guards, so I hid. That's how I ended up here."

He hums, looking at her in silence, as if pushing her to continue.

"Please, I beg you, let me go. My s...family need me. I must find them. I promise I won't tell anyone about this place. Ever. I just...let me go home."

As she talks, she realizes it's not an act anymore. Every word comes straight out of her heart, her raw emotions. She misses her home deeply, misses her sisters. She must save Feyre from that monster's claws and bring her back home. Her eyes grow misty against her will, but she's too weary to feel asshamed.

She only wants this nightmare to end.

The fae doesn't say anything. Not a sound comes out of him. Nesta doesn't dare to look at his face.

"Home, you say?" His voice drips with an emotion she can't identify. "You really think that's an option for you now? That's why you went through all that trouble? Sweet Mother, I forgot how blissfully unaware mortals are of everything around them." He looks away, his expression serious, contrasting greatly to how he's been acting until now. "And what, pray tell, is it you intend to do once you’re back in your quaint little life? Forget this ever happened? Forget this place? Him?" His tone lowers, his words taunting. "Do you truly believe a creature like him will let you escape unscathed?"

Nesta's blood freezes, her head throbbing. The grip around the iron rod begins to tremble.

"There must be a way, I know it..."

"Let's suppose I let you out of here. What then?" he interrupts her, insisting. Taking her apart. "Do you have any idea where you are right now? How to navigate this place? You don't. Bet you don't even know where the entrance is. You don't have a plan, am I right? Risked your sorry life for nothing."

Nesta moves before her common sense can't stop it. She swings the iron rod again, narrowly missing his side as he sidesteps.

Eris laughs, a sharp, delighted sound, even as he raises his hands in mock surrender. "Oh, you're fun. I like you."

"Shut up. You're a powerful fae, I can feel it. There has to be a way you can help me here. What do I have to do?"

Eris’s smile returns, smug and predatory, as if he’s found what he was looking for.

"Well, I can think of a few ways you can...persuade me to help."

Nesta already recognizes this tone, resisting the urge to roll her eyes and the shiver all through her back. Maybe she should try to aim for the head this time.

"Not that, you disgusting pervert." She grits her teeth.

Eris hums, his expression unreadable as he steps even closer, close enough now that the heat of his body mixes with the warmth of the fire behind her. "How brave of you to say that. Or just suicidal. I can't decide."

Nesta holds her ground, though her instincts scream at her to back away. She won’t cower—not yet. She tilts her chin up, meeting his fiery gaze head-on. "I repeat. I’m no threat to you. If you're not going to help me, then let me go, and you won’t have to deal with me ever again."

Eris laughs, low and rich, the sound reverberating through the room and her body. "You misunderstand, birdie. I don’t 'have' to deal with you. I’m choosing to."

His hand reaches out, catching her wrist with infuriating ease as he gently pulls the poker from her grip. He lets it clatter to the ground, his hand still wrapped around her wrist, firm but not painful. "And now I’m wondering…" He leans in, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating off him. "Why the High Lord of the Night Court went to such lengths to dress you up like his prize, only to let you slip away."

Her pulse pounds in her ears, but she forces her voice steady. "I’m no one’s prize."

Eris’s lips twitch, his grip tightening just slightly. "No, you’re not. You're a pet." he murmurs. "But I think there's something more of you than that. And I really want to find out."

His free hand raises toward her face, and Nesta reacts without thinking. She stomps down on his foot with all her strength, yanking her wrist free as his grip loosens.

But before she can grab the iron rod again, his whole face changes. It’s almost imperceptible, but she notices it, and it makes her wary.

He tilts his head to the side, as if listening to something outside. She watches him, his sudden change in behavior unsettling her enough to keep quiet. The faint tension in his posture, the way his eyes flicker toward the door, and the tilt of his head, as if straining to hear something beyond the thick walls. It sets her on edge.

Her heart pounds in her chest, the icy claws of unease curling around her spine. Whatever—or whoever—has his attention, it makes him pause. And that, more than anything, terrifies her.

A cold, horrifying though comes to her. ¿Could it be him? Has he found her at last?

Suddenly, he turns his head at her with an intense stare. Something flicker in his eyes, and he's frowning. He looks at her as if he's conflicted. ¿Why?

He grabs her harshly by the arms, but not enough to hurt, and basically lifts her up in the air. She doesn't have time to protest before he presses a hand against the wall where she came from and...pushes it open like nothing. Like he does it regularly.

He shoves her inside and gives her a stern look of warning.

"Leave the way you came," he instructs, his tone firm but distracted. "Once you're out, keep your right hand pressed to the wall and follow it. It’ll take you where you need to go. Don’t run, don’t make a sound, and above all, avoid the shadows. They’re not safe." He turns his head to the door again in a pissed off gesture. "And one more thing."

He grabs her wrist, and Nesta feels the cool weight of something pressed into her palm. She looks down.

A knife. Crafted from gold and ash wood.

"That will hurt a Fae far more than burning iron," he says evenly. "Keep it with you at all times. Even a light touch of it will have them writhing in pain."

She can barely process what's happening. Everything feels too fast, his words too cryptic.

"Why are you doing this? What's going on?"

The glare he shoots her makes her breath hitch.

"He's here."

Her chest tightens as her heartbeat thunders painfully against her ribs, each beat like a desperate plea to escape.

"But... I don’t understand. Why are you telling me this? Why are you helping me?"

He stares at her, his expression unreadable, though something flickers in his eyes—a shadow of emotion too fleeting to name.

"We’re not close enough yet to share our secrets," he says, his smile sharp but empty, like a blade with no warmth behind it. "Now go, before I regret it and hand you over to him."

Her mind spins, a storm of unanswered questions she can’t bring herself to voice. Her tongue feels heavy, her thoughts muddled.

But one thing is unmistakable: he’s helping her. For reasons she can’t fathom, this Fae is offering her a chance. A lifeline. And he hasn’t demanded anything in return.

Before she can say another word, he moves to push the wall closed.

"Pity. I didn't got your name in the end," he says, letting out a dramatic sigh. "Maybe next time."

It's so absurd she feels the urge to chuckle. For the first time since she was kidnapped. It's a miracle. Or a sign of insanity.

"Nesta."

"What?"

She locks eyes with him, her gaze unwavering as she stares into those amber depths, like molten fire swirling. Her own reflection in those fiery orbs.

"My name is Nesta."

He blinks.

"Nesta." He repeats, savouring the syllabes in a soft, low tone. "Be careful, Nesta. Everything can be trap here."

She grips the knife.

"Trust me, I know now" she replies. "Thank you. For doing this."

He chuckles.

"Don't thank me yet, birdie. After all, I'm sure we'll meet again."

The wall closes in her face before she can ask, leaving her alone in the darkness once more.

She battles with herself to get moving, her mind still reeling from everything that just transpired. Pressing her right hand firmly against the wall beside her, she begins to walk back on her steps.

Every step is deliberate, her movements slow and calculated, as she struggles to keep silent. Her breathing is shallow, her chest tight with the effort of not making a sound.

If that bastard truly is here, then there’s a chance—pretty big one—that she'll pass by him through this hidden passage, near the damn rooms.

The weight of the knife in her hand is both a comfort and a reminder of the dangers that lie ahead. Nesta moves cautiously, every small sound amplified in the thick silence surrounding her. Her heart hammers in her chest, a constant warning of how close she is to being discovered. The passage feels tighter now, the stone walls pressing in as if the space itself is conspiring to trap her.

As she walks, her mind races. Who was that fae, Eris? Why had he helped her? And why, despite the sharpness in his eyes and the veiled threat in his words, had he let her go instead of handing her over to the other? Surely it would've been easier for him, and spared him any trouble.

Her breath catches in her throat as a thought hits her like a cold wave—was he playing her all along? Or was there something more to his intentions?

The wall beneath her fingers feels cold, unyielding, as if daring her to falter. She forces herself to ignore the creeping dread, pressing onward, trusting in the directions Eris had given her. The passage twists and turns, its walls narrowing at times, forcing her to squeeze through with minimal room to spare. She forces her thoughts back to the present. 'Focus. Get out of here. Find Feyre.'

The low murmur of voices reaches her ears just as she rounds a corner. Her stomach tightens. They’re close—too close for her liking. She slows her pace, flattening herself against the wall as much as she can, holding her breath. Her eyes scan the shadows, looking for any sign of movement.

The voices grow louder, unmistakable now. It’s him. The one she’s been running from.

"Sorry, but I don't have the slighest idea what you're talking about," That's Eris. She recognizes that suave, arrogant tone. "Are you sure you're not just tired? I know she's been keeping you busy lately..."

"Spare me your bullshit, Vanserra," her tormentor growls, and Nesta's heart stops at how close he sounds. "I can smell her here. Where.Is.She?"

Hold on. Vanserra? Did he just call Eris 'Vanserra'?

'Vanserra...most dangerous.'

'...prick. Almost worse...other.'

'Waiting...company.'

¿What was it he said when he saw her?

'I assume you're not the female I was expecting tonight'

Her knees threaten to give out, her breath growing heavy and clawing at her chest. In her desesperation to escape from a monster, she jumped into another one. And made him bleed.

She truly, definitely, has the worst luck in this godsforsaken world.

But he also let her leave. Even gave her a weapon to defend herself against his kind, or so he claimed. So what's the truth here? Why are these creatures so dreadfully confusing?

"Who exactly is 'her'? I don't understand...Oh!" He chuckles mockingly, in that taunting way of this. "Are you hiding something from us, Rhys? It must be pretty important if our queen doesn't know yet."

"I'm warning you, Eris, I'm losing my patience here. Tell me where the fuck she is now, or you can say goodbye to you and your miserable family before tomorrow."

Her pulse quickens again. It’s really him—her captor, the shadowed fae who had claimed her as his. His voice is unmistakable, even though he’s out of sight. Nesta’s stomach lurches with the realization that she’s within inches of him, and the thought of what he might do if he catches her sends a shiver down her spine.

Keep moving, she tells herself. Don’t stop. Ignore them.

But it's hard to do so when they're so close to her, specially the moment Eris replies.

"Keep my family out of our filthy mouth." It shocks her how deadly serious he sounds. How threatening. "They have nothing to do with your personal messes. If I were you, I'll be more worried about Amarantha finding out. I wonder what she'll think of her whore keeping an human pet under her nose, without her permission?

Whore? Amarantha?

Suddenly, there's a loud bang and she has to bite her lip to not scream.

Someone punched a wall, cracked a hole in it probably. She can hear some heavy breathing, but can't tell whose.

"I'm sick of your games, Vanserra." It's him. "I don't like when people tamper with my things. Tell me where you hid her, or I'll fucking slit your throat right here. How would your mother fare mourning another son?"

Nesta takes another step, but her foot catches on something—a loose stone, a crack in the floor. The faint sound is enough to make her freeze, her breath caught in her throat. The voices stop. The air becomes thick with tension, and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She closes her eyes, praying she hasn’t been heard.

Seconds stretch into eternity.

Then, a faint shuffle of feet.

She presses herself further against the stone, her heart racing, praying to whatever gods might listen that she’s not discovered. She waits, breath held, her fingers tightening around the golden knife. The faintest tremor runs through her as she imagines what would happen if the shadows, that dark fae that had haunted her every step, found her now.

Her breath escapes in a silent rush, and she forces herself to keep going, her movements fluid but swift. Just a little further. Just a little further. She has move away from them. Far enough to give her some advantage by the time he comes out to get her. Whatever farse Eris had been spouting to distract him is over with her mistake.

Her mind is racing as the path stretches ahead of her—there’s no going back now. She’s committed herself to whatever happens next. The knife feels cold in her hand, despite having been there for quite a while now.

The voices resume, softer now, but she can no longer understand them. She takes it as a good sign.

The passage winds on, the flickering lights from the cracks that guided her earlier growing faint and distant. Nesta’s pulse thunders in her ears as she moves, every nerve in her body attuned to the faintest shift in sound or shadow. She keeps her right hand on the wall, gripping the knife in her left. Eris’s instructions echo in her mind: Follow the wall. Don’t run. Don’t make a sound. Avoid the shadows.

She tries not to think about how close she came to being caught—or how the bastard would’ve reacted if he’d seen her. His threats, his fury—it all feels like a dark storm closing in, and she’s only barely staying ahead of it.

The air grows colder as she moves deeper into the passage, and she shivers despite herself. Her dress feels flimsy and useless against the chill. The fabric whispers against her legs as she walks, the only sound she allows herself to make.

She misses the fire and the wood from Eris' bedroom. She's going insane, no doubt, missing to be in a Fae's presence.

Nesta rounds another corner, her steps faltering as the walls widen slightly. The space feels different here—emptier, less confining. She presses her hand more firmly against the stone, willing herself to keep going. She doesn’t know where this path leads, but it’s better than staying where she was.

A faint, eerie hum creeps into her awareness. It’s distant, almost like a melody carried on the wind, and she freezes. Her breathing stills as she listens, trying to pinpoint the sound. It doesn’t seem like voices, nor does it belong to any creature she can identify. It's almost hypnotic...except she doesn't feel particularly drawn to it. More like weirded out, scared even. It wants to pull her attention, she knows, and she feels how it flies past her body. Her eyes squint around her, trying to see something.

Avoid the shadows, he said.

How is she supposed to avoid them if she's surrounded by them?

Nesta steps back instinctively, her grip tightening on the knife. She scans the dim passage, her eyes straining to see through the gloom. The hum grows louder, closer, and she realizes it’s not coming from one direction but all around her, as if the passage itself is alive and aware.

Her breath catches as a flicker of movement darts just beyond her vision—a shadow, but not her own. Her blood runs cold, and she takes another step back, pressing herself against the wall.

"Not safe," she whispers to herself, repeating his warning like a mantra. "Not safe. Not safe."

The hum crescendos, a low, thrumming sound that resonates in her chest, and the shadows seem to swell, stretching toward her. Panic claws at her throat, but Nesta forces herself to move, keeping her steps deliberate and quiet. She doesn’t dare look back, doesn’t dare think about what might be lurking just out of sight.

The wall beneath her hand feels warmer now, as though guiding her toward something—away from the terrifying darkness. She follows it blindly, her focus narrowing to the rough texture beneath her fingertips and the steady rhythm of her steps.

Finally, she sees it: a faint glimmer of light ahead, spilling through the cracks of what looks like another possible exit. Relief floods her, but she doesn’t let herself rush. Instead, she inches closer, every muscle coiled and ready to act if something—or someone—appears.

When she reaches the door, she feels along its edges, noticing a soft breeze coming from the other side. Her fingers brush against a hidden latch, and she hesitates, glancing back over her shoulder. She can see the shadows writhe in the distance, alive and hungry, and she knows she has no choice.

Nesta pushes the latch, and the wall swings open, revealing a room bathed in warm light. She steps through, the wall closing shut behind her with a quiet click. The hum vanishes abruptly, leaving an oppressive silence in its wake.

It’s a small, empty space, furnished only with a worn-out desk and an old chair, a few cushions tossed carelessly on the ground, and a dusty bookshelf leaning against the wall. The thick layer of dust suggests it hasn’t been used in quite some time—or that no one cares enough to clean it.

She hears nothing but her own breathing. No footsteps, no voices, no hums. The room feels abandoned.

For now, she’s safe.

As if on cue, her knees give out, and she collapses to the ground. The knife slips from her grasp, clattering loudly against the floor beside her open hand. Her shoulders tremble as her vision blurs with unshed tears. The adrenaline that had kept her upright is gone, leaving her raw and vulnerable. Everything—the danger, the fear, the weight of survival—crashes over her all at once.

Nesta hugs herself tightly, pulling her legs to her chest and burying her face in her knees. For a moment, she lets herself break.

Now it's not the time, a voice eerily similar to her Mother's echoe in her head. Focus. Get out of here. Find Feyre.

Nesta takes a long, deep breath, looking up again. She casts a glance to the knife besides her and grabs it. She scans her surroundings again, making sure she didn't miss anything. The knife somehow comforts her, her heart going back to its normal rhythm as her finger traces the ashwood part.

She doesn’t know what more dangers she'll have to face, but she’ll find a way out of this nightmare—back to her sister—or die trying.

She's Nesta Archeron. And she won't break.

[utterlyotterlyx]

Constellations

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - Azriel can't allow himself to stand on the side lines anymore and watch as yet another male tries to take you away from him.

Warnings - oblivious reader and Az, angst, pining, Az and Nes being cuties, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), lots of fluff, flirting

There were constellations in your eyes.

That was what everyone had said when they'd first met you, alluding to the clear fact that you were a deep daydreamer whenever you sprang to topic, which was more often than you'd think.

Prythian bowed to you, everyone in every nook and cranny in any court knew who you were. A shining star in a court of nightmares.

Every one of the High Lords held a special affection toward you, often asking you to leave Rhysand and the inner circle and join them instead. Helion had made a point of his fondness by making a comment about how other-worldly you looked in Day Court gold, and then later on teasing Rhys about how he would one day succeed in his desire.

Everyone could beg and plead for you as much as they wished, but none of their affection could rival how Azriel felt about you.

Azriel was your shadow. Wherever you went meant that the Shadowsinger stalked not too far behind. He would sit with you and hum whilst you ran your fingers through his hair, each touch sending lightening soaring through his soul. He would walk around Velaris with you endlessly if it meant that he could see that almost childlike wonder in your eyes when you looked at the same restaurant or bookshop that had surely seen a thousand times before. He would soothe away your nightmares, allowing his shadows to pepper your skin in sweet pecks as he held you, and he would let you get close enough to soothe him when his own demons plagued him.

That's why, when he stood to the side of the room with a whisky in hand, did he want to tear apart the male who dared to speak to you. Helion was no regular male. But, as you giggled at one of his flirtatious jokes and rested your hand on his chest, Azriel became sure that he could make him scream like one.

Helion was visiting from the Day Court and it was the last night of his stint, so Rhys had suggested that you all go to Rita's, to relax from the toll of the week. The High Lord in question needed access to a couple of special tomes in one of Velaris' archives, you and Rhys had agreed that the tomes were too valuable to allow outside of the city, so Helion had to come to you. Like all he wanted was another excuse to be around you.

Azriel couldn't blame Helion for it.

Azriel believed that you were the most precious thing on the planet. 500 years of friendship and you stunned him more and more each day with your anecdotes and the innocent chatter that always filled the room.

"He's really trying this again?" Nesta asked, appearing beside him at the railing, wanting to take a moment away from the family madness before Cassian dragged her to dance for the fifth time that night.

"Can you blame him?"

The top three buttons of his shirt were left untethered, exposing that rock hard muscle beneath that was ink kissed and shimmering. Azriel couldn't stop looking at you, you were wearing that dress that you loved so much, sheer white and glittered in fine crystals, a low scooped back that fell perfectly on your figure. It was the only thing that could truly take his breath away.

"When are you going to tell her that you love her?" Nesta gazed at you, she'd never admit it but you were definitely her favourite, she held a special spot for you in her heart, just how everyone did really. "You need to tell her," she turned to him and he peered down on her with a sincerity she'd never seen, "She's incredible, Az. She's not the kind of girl you let get away. Go and love her before someone else does."

"She deserves better than me, Nes," his sad gaze lifted to you, you were starlight and he was shadow, you were pure and he was horribly tainted, and he couldn't have his darkness snuffing out your light.

Nesta gently pulled his sight from the dancefloor, making him focus on her by keeping her palm grazing against his cheek, "You're not a very good spymaster if you can't see how she looks at you."

Azriel didn't know what to say, he just knew that he had to get to you. He rounded Nesta and descended onto the dancefloor, barging past the grinding bodies with you in his sight, sipping your drink and smiling brightly at Helion who was stood far too close to you. You always felt Azriel looming, his shadows curling around your ankles always being a tell-tale sign that he was close.

Your eyes followed the trails of his shadows until you found their owner, your brows furrowed at the urgency he wore whilst he kept glancing at Helion with a tight jaw. It was unsettling.

"I need to speak to you," he pleaded, taking a step closer to you and you had no choice but to look up at him, to let those rippling pools of hazel drown you.

"Az, is every-"

"Please," he cut you off, reaching for you but not quite touching, like he was waiting for your agreement so that he could whisk you away.

You had never seen Azriel look so pained, so pleading and desperate. Without a word to Helion, you nodded and Azriel's fingers slid around your wrists, pulling you into a whirl of colour until you stood on a floor that you recognised and Rita's faded away.

The cabin was warm, everything was in place and tidy, that scent burning wood and orange that clung to the cabin flooded your lungs and made you shiver with delight. You had always loved the place, how perfectly small it was for a lone escape, where you could watch the snow fall from the bay window with a hot chocolate in hand and blanket wrapped tightly around your legs.

It took you a moment to centre yourself, and when you turned, you saw Azriel stood there, head hung low and wings drooped but relishing in the comfortable warmth of where you both were, "What's wrong, Az?"

The only light illuminating the cabin was from the fire, that crackling beast that sent gold and orange light roaring across the space, it welcomed in the faint glow of the moon that spilled onto the floor like an old friend.

"You can't go with Helion," he told you, well, more blurted at you.

"Go with Helion?" You asked and he nodded, anger bubbled in your chest, "Why would I ever do that?"

"He's wanted to take you from us for so long," 200 years to be exact, "Who could blame him, you're the most incredible thing that Prythian has ever made. I thank the Mother every day for you."

"What?"

"Please let me finish," he hated cutting you off, he hated being the reason that you were silenced, "If you speak now, I'll never be able to say what I have to say, what I need to say."

Azriel watched your face soften, the anger that threatened to boil over now evaporated, he watched you move to the sofa and sit down, patting the empty space beside you. He didn't know how you did it, how you could make someone feel so comfortable and heard, he thought about it as he took the seat beside you and heaved in a deep breath, curling one of his wings around you as if he was scared that you'd bolt.

"I love you, Y/N. I love your kindness, how you've never been scared of me. I love the way your eyes sparkle when you're talking about something you're passionate about. I love how you scrunch your nose when you're deep in thought. I love the way you bolt through the streets of Velaris before solstice to make sure everyone is as spoilt as possible. I love you, Y/N. I love everything that you are and everything that we can be, I can't lose you, I don't know who or what I'd be without you."

"There is no one who knows you like I do. I know that you sneak an extra spoonful of sugar into your hot chocolate before Nesta can catch you and tell you off," you smiled softly, "I know that you secretly hate shopping with Mor but would much rather suffer than tell her and take some of her spark away. I know that you can never tell Cassian that Nesta is your favourite unless you wanted to see him sulk for weeks," a soft laugh flew from your lips, "I know you're the reason that Rhys, Cass and I turned out so well, you're the only person we couldn't bear to disappoint."

Not once did you stop looking at him as he spoke. He loved you. Azriel really loved you.

"You love me?" Azriel nodded gently, "But, what about Elain? I thought..."

"Me and Elain?" Azriel's eyes were frantic, "No, Y/N. Gods no. You're the only one I've ever wanted, I tried to love someone else, I tried to love Mor, and maybe on some level I tried to find that with Elain. But no one could ever compare to you, anyone who isn't you aren't worth it."

Silence filled the air, that warm, golden hued air. Azriel was trying to read your mind, to figure out what you were thinking when you started laughing, tears pooled at your bottom lids and one blink sent them flowing down your cheeks. Azriel shuffled closer to you, taking his thumb and wiping away your tears before they dripped from your chin.

"We're so stupid, Az," you sniffled, letting him cradle your face in his hands and continue to wipe away any tears that fell from your eyes, "How could we be so blind?"

"What do you mean?"

Tilting your head to the side, your eyes sparkled, just how they did when you looked at or spoke about something you loved, then you felt it, that tension that had always tugged at your soul snapping into place, clouds of grey became clear sunny skies, and a golden thread soared across it and thrummed with yearning delight.

"I mean," you tugged on that thread, you watched his eyes widen and fill with disbelief, "That I love you too. So much."

"You're my mate," he confessed in a whisper, the bond sprouting into full bloom around you, like you could both see the tendrils of thread sewing your souls together.

Azriel's breath fanned across your face, hot and laced with the scent of whisky, the tip of his nose ran down the slope of your own, and you felt his lips lie millimetres away from yours, you watched his eyes search your soul before flickering downward to the place he craved to touch. Anticipation pulled at your chest and swelled in your stomach, and every bit of doubt vanished when he closed the gap and pressed his lips to yours.

It was like everything fell into place, like the world only began to make sense in that moment. Azriel's lips moved against yours hungrily, the sweep of his tongue into your mouth once you had granted him permission to taste you was enough to make your knees go weak. Heat pooled between your legs and you scrambled to be on top of him, the hem of your dress hitched around your thighs as you rested into his lap.

"Please, Az," you breathed between starving kisses, "I need you."

Azriel's hands moved from the back of your neck and the small of your back, reaching around to grip underneath your thighs, so dangerously close to where you needed him to be. He lifted you, not once breaking the connection of your lips, locking your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom.

"I'm not making you mine on a couch," he lay you on the bed and climbed on top of you, running his fingers down the sides of your thighs, making your back arch as he peppered kisses down your neck, sucking and nibbling on the skin he found there.

You squirmed beneath him, itching to rip his clothes off and allow him to take every part of you, "Please," you whined into his hair, his hand palming your breasts and lips attached to your earlobe, making soft moans fall through your stumbling mouth.

"Tell me what you want," his voice was so deep that it made goosebumps rise across your skin, it was sultry and dark, it matched the shade of his eyes when he pulled away to look down on you with swollen lips and tousled hair. "I'll give you everything."

"I want you."

It was all he needed to hear in order to tear your dress in two and take your hardened nipples in his mouth, sucking and biting on them gently, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nubs of nerves that had you gasping and eyes rolling to the back of your head. You felt like your body was on fire as he kept moving downward, littering kisses down your stomach before resting between your thighs.

The cold air against your core made you gasp again, he ran a finger down your soaked folds and moaned, "You're so wet for me," his voice vibrated against the inside of your thighs, "So perfect," he mumbled before his tongue dragged a line up you, and then again, and again until you were a blubbering mess fisting your fingers through his hair.

Azriel flicked his tongue against that familiar bundle of nerves, curling his tongue around it and sucking on it gently so that he didn't overstimulate you. Stars crept in to the sides of your vision, that hot white heat building in the pit of your stomach, "Don't stop," they were barely coherent words but he heard you and kept his pace, teasing a finger around your entrance before slowly pushing it in an curling it upward.

It sent you toppling off the edge. That white heat burst from you, loud cries of his name flew from your lips and your hands gripped his wrists, stars poured into your eyes and Azriel pushed you through your high.

Too lost in the mind shattering orgasm he had just given you, you didn't feel his hands ran up your back and lock around the back of your neck, you didn't realise that your torso and head were propped up in his arms or see his wings flex above you, "Angel," he cooed, he clenched his hands into your hair and pressed his lips along your jaw, "Let me take care of you."

Azriel was bare before you, his length solid and resting against your thigh, "Make me yours, Az."

Azriel growled, his eyes darkened with possession, "Tell me if it's too much and we can stop," you nodded breathlessly and he kissed you again, harder this time as he pushed himself inside of you, your walls still quivering and pulsating around him.

Once he was pushed to the hilt inside of you, he groaned, it was deep and guttural, the most incredible sound you'd ever heard. Azriel gave you a moment, and you tapped his shoulder lightly to get him to move, you were needing him to move, it was getting too much. Your soul was burning with desire and you needed him to satisfy it before it completely ignited you.

Your mate thrusted into you, the roll of his hips reaching angles you didn't know existed, he took your nipple in his mouth again, growling as his pace quickened and the sound of slapping flesh and declarations of love filled the air.

"You're so beautiful, Angel," his lips found yours again and his movements became sloppy, "I'm so close," he felt your warmth tighten around him, ready to milk his cock as high pitched mewls exploded from your lips, "There she is, my perfect mate."

Azriel's fingers wound in your hair, pressing your forehead to his as he slammed into you, riding you both through those searing hot highs and continuing the long strokes as you both fell down, "I'm yours, Az. I'm all yours."

Authors Note

😌

[surielstea]

Cancelled Plans

Based on this request.

Pairing: Modern!Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: In an attempt to get over her foolish crush on her roommate Azriel, Reader schedules a date with someone else but Azriel gets awfully clingy when she tries to leave.

Warnings: Smut | minors dni | fingering | teasing | oral (f receiving) | answering a call while receiving oral so semi public (?) | jealous Az

5.1k words

My dazzling black dress looked as if it was made for me specifically. The way it hugged every dip and curve, flared in all the right places. It was beyond just flattering, it made me look angelic yet sinful at the same time.

I spot Azriel on the couch when I enter the sitting room, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he reads from a novel with a worn cover that I've seen him reread a multitude of times.

He flicks his eyes up from his overused book to glance at me, then returns to his page. Then he visibly freezes and looks back to me, needing a double take to make sure what he saw registered correctly. He snapped his book shut when I flashed him a beaming smile.

"Where are you going?" He immediately interrogated, sitting up from his position.

I do a small twirl, showing off. "I have a date," I shrug and he stands, brows lowered. It was always hard to read my roommate's expressions but he had clearly been distraught at the information I gave him. "What? Don't think I'm capable of having anyone interested in me?" I joke and he narrows his eyes at me conspicuously.

"Just confused as to who you think deserves to see you dressed like this," His eyes rake down my figure, dropping all the way to my heels that wrapped up my ankles, slowly moving up the slit in the side of the dress that exposed most of my thigh, my waist, my chest, lingering at the cleavage there for a moment, then finally back up to my eyes.

"It's none of your business," I cross my arms and he tilts his head, unimpressed. I swore he could read me like the pages of his favorite book. "Okay fine," I fold beneath his piercing gaze. "I'm going to dinner with a guy named Nelm and he's super nice so don't—" He doesn't let me finish as he cuts me off with a sudden laugh and I flush in embarrassment. "He's nice, Az," I defend while he suppresses the rest of his laugh, resulting in a thin-lipped smile.

"Nelm cannot be a real name," He says like he refused to even fathom the idea of it.

"Well it is, and I'm going to be late so if you'll excuse me," I spin on my heel, away from him and towards the front door.

"You promised yesterday we'd watch a horror movie tonight," He croons in a sing-song tone that makes me cast a glance back to him with a guilty frown.

"I'll be back later tonight, we'll watch it then," I say, reaching for the doorknob but being mentally stopped by the feeling of something being lost. "Forgetting something?" Azriel hums, holding up my purse, the strap dangling from his finger tauntingly. I groaned, looking at the male.

"Give it." I sigh.

"Try and take it," He shrugs, holding the purse up above his head while taking three long strides forward and closing the distance between us. I look up at him with cold eyes which he only smiles at whilst I silently curse his tall height.

"Az, c'mon I'm going to be late," I claim and he only smirks at the idea.

"Late to what?" Cassian's familiar voice asks from the other side of the room and I jump, looking past Azriel and to my other roommate who was coming down the hallway shirtless, Nesta beside him, appearing to be wearing nothing but his stolen shirt. She practically lived here as much as the rest of us so I didn't bat an eye at the sharp-featured female.

"Great, let's get everyone involved in my love life," I murmur sarcastically while Azriel turns sideways to face both me and his brother.

"She's going on a date with some guy named Nelm," He explains and I glare up at him.

"Horrible name," Nesta mumbles as she enters the kitchen, Cassian trailing behind her.

"He's making it sound worse than it is," I claim and Azriel looks down at me pointedly.

"I only told them what you told me, it's your mind making it seem worse than it is," Azriel retorts and I clamp my mouth shut, knowing he was right.

"Well he's kind, and he's taking me to dinner," I look to Cassian and Nesta like I was someone on trial and they were the jury. "And I'm going to be late, so give me my purse," I take my gaze back to Azriel.

"I don't want to," He shrugs. We pause for a moment at the heaviness that sentence holds. Earlier he had made a taunting game of it, but now he simply just didn’t want me to leave, not for fun, but because he wanted me to stay and watch a stupid scary movie with him.

I was trying to get over him with this date, move on from my ridiculous crush and he was making it awfully difficult. It didn't help that we've made out a couple of times in a few desperate moments while we were both at our lows. But it was never more than lips, always just kissing, we made that line clear and we've both been walking along it for too long.

Nevertheless, my crush wasn't going away, and having it on my roommate of all people was not fun, especially when I saw him walk around shirtless, or roaming the house after showering with a towel loosely wrapped around his hips, hair still dripping water down onto his abdomen—

"How'd you even meet this guy anyway?" Cassian tore me from my straying imagination. Azriel and I both whip our heads towards him.

"Mor set us up," I shrug with a bashful expression.

"Oh," Cassian grimaced, Azriel matching his look of disgust.

"What?" I scowl at both of them, confused as to what's so wrong with that.

"Well Mor playing Cupid is similar to her solstice presents," Cassian attempts to explain.

"She means well, but the outcome is always, laughable," Azriel expands and I frown, looking to the floor in slight defeat, wondering how I would tear myself from this one. I huff and look back at the two males.

"Well he's not laughable, and it's just one date. I think I'll manage," I argue, waving Cassian off. Nesta pulls at his arm and he nods, following her back down the hall.

"Right, good luck then," He calls back and I smile in triumph, bringing my gaze back up to Azriel.

He stares down at me for a moment, mirroring my stubbornness with his pointed look.

"Alright, fine," He sighs, lowering my purse and placing it in my outstretched hands with a tentativeness I nearly didn't catch.

"Thank you," I reach for the doorknob, but I turn back to him for a moment before opening the door, my eyes lingering on pools of hazel.

"Have fun," He shoos and I offer him a grateful smile. "I'm sorry I made you late to dinner with your dad," He added beneath his breath and my smile dropped into a glare.

"It's a date, Azriel. I have a date," I restate but his smirk doesn't falter.

He looks to the door behind me, to my hand on the knob, then back to my eyes, as if anticipating my leave, but I didn't make the move. To be honest I'd much rather stay here and watch that horror movie I promised him than go to dinner with a guy named Nelm.

"Right, a date," He nods, crossing his arms, still waiting for me to take my departure.

"I know the concept of asking a girl out is foreign to you, but I think you can grasp it," I taunt and he chuckles, the amused sound making my stomach flip.

"I know how to ask a girl out," He claims and I smirk, because perhaps prodding his fragile ego was much more fun than any old dinner date.

"I don't believe you," My hand leaves the doorknob only to cross my arms over my chest and his smile widens.

"Yeah?" He leans against the door, indicating that I won't be leaving any time soon now that his weight is pressed against it. I nod. "Do you want to get dinner with me instead of a guy named Nelm?" He tilted his head and I swallowed thickly. Was he genuinely asking me out or just continuing this game I started? "Or we could watch that movie you promised me?" He proposed and my cheeks flushed pink.

"Yes," I blurt out and his brows raise a fraction in both shock and amusement. Gods this was embarrassing.

"Yes to dinner, or to the movie?" He tilts his head, his smirk widening.

"Would you think less of me if I blew off my date just to watch a horror movie with you?" I say, my voice just above a whisper.

"Never." He grabs my hand and pulls me away from the front door, towards the couch.

"Wait I have to change." I pull away from his grasp.

"But you look pretty," He grabs my purse, holding me back from leaving yet again.

"But I'm uncomfortable," I groan but he only tugs at my purse and pulls me closer.

"Just take it off, I won't watch," He closes his eyes and turns his head away from me.

"I'm not stripping down just because you're clingy," I huff and he opens one eye, looking at me with a scrunched nose, his stubbornness outmatched.

"Here." He grabs the hem of his shirt and takes it off with ease, leaving his chest bare.

"You can wear mine," He tosses the fabric at me. I sigh and place the shirt down on the couch.

"All because you want to see me naked," I mumble, dropping my hold on the purse and he sets himself on the couch, closing his eyes just as he promised.

I turn around anyway, unzipping my dress from the side and shrugging it off, allowing it to dip from my shoulders and then pool at the floor.

"Uh, can you hand me your shirt," I murmur, afraid to turn around.

"You were going to let a guy named Nelm see you in that?" He said and I whirled around, staring at him with wide eyes.

"You said you'd shut your eyes!" I grab the shirt in his hands.

"Forget the dress, no one deserves to see you in this," He ignored my exclamation and grabbed me by the backs of my thighs, and pulled me closer, staring up at me in my black lingerie that fit me just as well as my dress.

"You weren't going to let some other guy see you in this were you?" He questions with a certain possessiveness to his voice as I shrug the shirt on, pulling it over my head. Then down past my hips.

"Why does it matter? I'm not going anymore anyways." I plop on the couch beside him, crossing my arms over my chest defensively.

"No," He smiles. "You're not."

"Just start the movie." I swing my feet over his lap and he does as says, letting the TV play while dimming the lights.

I still felt exposed despite Azriel’s shirt loosely around my body. Gods, it smelt so strongly of him, and now he was left shirtless and it made me helpless.

I reached over and grabbed a blanket from the armrest, spreading it out over me while readjusting so I was lying down, my thighs now on Azriel's lap.

"You seem comfortable," He remarks, his tone clipped and I look at him with a glare, still upset he made me cancel my date. "Oh c'mon, you can't be mad at me forever," He sighs, leaning down so his bare chest was pressed to my back. "I know how much you love to cuddle," He croons, using my own weaknesses against me. "Besides, who's going to protect you when all the jump scares start to happen?" He suggests and a shiver ran down my spine at the thought.

I hated horror movies, Azriel always made me watch them since they were his favorite. The sadistic freak laughed whenever I jolted at a scary moment.

I pout, burrowing deeper into the throw pillow.

"Fine, but only if you cuddle me too," I offer and he smiles, laying down fully behind me, our legs tangling as his hand snakes around my waist and pulls me further into his chest. I smile at the feeling. How was I ever supposed to get over him while he was actively pressing me into him while I wore his shirt?

I distracted myself with the movie, but it was hard not to think about him while he stroked the side of my waist with his thumb, silently soothing me during tense parts of the movie.

I was in the middle of imaging how good it'd feel to lose the barrier of the shirt and have skin to skin contact when the killer appeared on screen all of a sudden and I jumped, my entire body tensing as I grabbed his hand that was tucked beneath my head and put it in front of my eyes.

"You're alright," He whispers, a slight amusement to his tone that reassured me. "You're fine," He hums, intertwining my hand with his and pulling them away from my line of sight.

I shiver at the feeling of his hand clasped in mine, how intimate it was in such a quiet moment like this. "You cold?" He asks his lips just beside my ear with the position we were in. I nod, using that as my excuse. "Yeah?" He purrs and I swallow thickly, clenching my legs together at all the lewd thoughts developing in my mind at the single word. I needed help.

I nod again and his hand on my waist dipped down beneath the blanket. I stopped breathing for a minute as he slipped his hand beneath the hem of my shirt, his palm rubbing up the side of my stomach, then returning to gripping my waist with his large, warm hand. "Better?" He whispers and I swore that time I could feel his lips against my ear. I fight back my need to mount him and simply nod instead.

"Mhm," I murmur, tightening my grip on his other hand.

Now that I could feel every twitch and movement of his hand I couldn't think of anything else. The movie didn't even scare me anymore, I was too entranced with him to focus on anything else. I wanted him to feel me everywhere. His calloused fingertips brushed against my soft skin, creating a friction I couldn't erase from my mind. I slowly grab his wrist with my free hand and boldly guide his grip upward, his fingers coming to my breast and cupping it in his hand.

He doesn't say anything, stays perfectly quiet as he gropes my breast in his hand and I let out a soft sigh, my hand in his tightening at the satisfying feeling.

He begins to massage my clothed breast in his hand, with little hesitation in his movements with the action and I respond to his touch by leaning into his chest, the curve of my ass pressing to his hips. He dips his head down, his lips meeting the crook of my shoulder.

His kisses trail up my neck then back down as quiet, soft sounds escape from the base of my throat and I prayed he couldn't hear them. His hand leaves my breast and mortification dawns over me. He was going to pull away, going to call me stupid for having a crush on him since he was my roommate.

But he didn't pull away and he still didn't speak. He just continued to lower his hand until it slipped beneath the blankets, and ever so slowly cupped my heat. I let out a soft gasp, clenching my legs shut.

"This alright love?" He purrs into the shell of my ear and I nod.

"Please," I mutter and he smiles into my neck at the desperation in my tone. He rubs his fingers through my folds, the cloth of my underwear doing nothing to keep his hands dry as my arousal seeps through and soaks him anyway. I clench around nothing at the sensation, his finger pads finding my clit and circling it harshly. I flip onto my back, looking up at him with pleading eyes and gripping his free hand with mine.

He smiles down at me, slowly pressing his fingers to my most sensitive area. "Please, Az," I murmur.

"Please what?" He taunts and I pout, not wanting to say it. But he doesn't waver.

"I want your fingers," I confess. "Inside of me, please Az," I finished and his smirk widened, leaning down and capturing my lips with his.

"Look at how nice you asked, was that so hard?" He hummed and I shook my head no. He grants me a smile as his fingers hook under my waistband and he tugs my panties off, bringing them down to my knees and I thrash them the rest of the way off.

He cups my bare heat in his hand and my breath hitched. He presses his lips to mine again. He could feel how much I wanted him I was so wet. "Az," I sigh out softly as his thumb pressed to my clit. I grind down onto his palm, needing more friction. He meets my silent request by beginning to dive two of his fingers through my folds, coating them in my slick and preparing them for entrance.

I let out a breathy mewl as he flicks his thumb over my clit in a particularly stimulating way, making my legs fall open wider. He admired this, humming against my lips and slipping his tongue inside as I opened my mouth to moan his name.

His fingers slowly come down to my entrance, tracing it dauntingly and I stifle a whine, needing him to fill me entirely. I kissed him hard instead of begging, allowing him to explore every expanse of my mouth as he ever so slowly pushed two of his fingers into my slit. I clenched around him at the feeling, how godly it felt when he rubbed against my elastic walls, stretching them on his hand as he began curling his fingers at just the right angle, pressing against that sensitive bundle of nerves nestled deep inside of me.

"There," I clench his other hand in mine, my nails digging into the back of his palm as he continues the lethal movements. I grit my teeth at how damned perfect it felt as he began to speed up, scissoring his fingers against it and creating an entirely new feeling.

Heat washed over me in waves, ebbing and flowing against me as my orgasm built, rapidly approaching.

"Azriel," I whimpered against his lips and he smirked.

"I love hearing my name moaned from your lips," He admitted, his fingers continuing to make a mess of me. "My pretty girl," He admired, his gaze finding mine. My brows creased at the name, and the possession that came with it.

"Yours," I whispered and he nodded, confirming it.

"All mine." He kissed my lips once more, his hand continuing its relentless pace as he flicked his fingers over that bundle, toying with it as I desperately chased my release.

His thumb returned to my clit, rubbing it harshly and I mewled, pulling away from his lips in favor of tilting my head back into the pillow, reveling in the heat running through my veins. "M'close," I warn in a soft tone and he presses a tender kiss to my cheek, then goes down to my jaw with a trail of the same gentleness.

"I know baby, go ahead, make a mess on my hand," He allows and can only obey, anything else would be downright masochistic.

I'm met with a white-hot pleasure that blinded me for longer than a moment, my eyes rolling back as my climax consumes me entirely, bringing both satisfaction and a craving for more simultaneously.

Once my body returns to its reality he removes his fingers from my cunt, now drenched with my dripping arousal. He smiles, bringing his hand up to his lips and licking up the wet expanse of his fingers, gathering my release on his tongue. He groaned as if the taste was revolutionary. "Gods, you're sweeter than I imagined," He confesses and my brows raise slightly.

"Imagined?" I pant out, still wrung from my intense orgasm.

He simply nods, flipping over me so he was settled between my bare thighs. "But I think I need to taste it firsthand," He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my sternum before beginning his descent, trailing delicate kisses down my stomach as he guides my legs over his shoulders, his head now trapped between my knees.

He rubs up and down my thighs, settling himself between them as he reaches the hood of my clit, dancing his tongue down it and without warning digging the pink muscle into my overstimulated clit.

I gasped, my hands going into his hair, grasping as he began kissing down my folds, soaking the lower half of his face. He wastes no time, eager to feel me writhe against his tongue.

I stare down at him in anticipation and he holds the eye contact. His hazel gaze was intense, so passion-filled that it gave me hope that this was more than just a one-time thing.

"Please," I mutter.

"Keep your eyes on me, alright love?" His breath was hot against my puffy pussy, it had been so distracting that I almost didn't hear what he said. But I nodded.

"Okay," I said shakily and before I knew it he leaned down, his lips meeting my entrance as his tongue entered my cunt with ease from him stretching me out with his fingers previously.

I gasped at the sensation, his tongue expertly flicking inside of me as he forced the impressive length of it inside of me.

"Az," I gripe, arching my back and digging my head into the pillows as I pull at his dark locks. He continues the wicked action against my core despite my thighs clamping around his head. He didn't seem to care if he lost oxygen, all he wanted was to taste me deeper and provide me more pleasure until I was finding release on his tongue alone.

I could barely breathe, my legs jolting as he continued his exquisite torture against my throbbing entrance.

"Azriel, right there—" My words are cut off by the familiar ringing of my phone, and it was easily compared to my alarm because it had taken me out of my dream. He looks up at me from between my thighs, his eyes glinting with devilry.

"Pick it up," He coos, and my brows bunch.

"Are you crazy?" I whisper shout at him as if the phone might understand me.

"For you," He purrs, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to my clit. I grip the cushion of the couch at the return of pleasure but the incessant ringing continues and it takes me right out of it again. "Pick it up, or I'll stop." He threatens and I glare at him but he's unwavering. I groan, stretching my arm out to the side and grabbing my purse off the coffee table.

I keep my glare pinned on him as I fish my phone out of the side pocket. The screen lights up with Nelm's contact and my eyes widen, I turn the phone towards Azriel, showing him that I could most definitely not pick this call up. He nods encouragingly and I shake my head rapidly, my brows creased. He begins to pull away from between my legs but I wrap my legs around his neck. "Fuck you," I grit out.

"I plan on it." He smirks against my heat while I bring my phone to my ear, and answer the call.

"Hey, what's up?" I try to mask my voice to be as casual as possible, despite my roommate being between my bare legs.

"Where are you? It's half past seven," He said, slightly irked but I was too busy looking down at Azriel to notice.

"Oh no, was our date tonight?" I gasp in faux shock and Azriel smiles, his eyes lighting with what I knew would be a horrible idea.

"Uh, yeah. I texted you yesterday making sure we were still on?" Nelm said through the other line and I gritted my teeth. I'm so fucked.

"Something came up and texting you slipped my mind—" My breath hitched as Azriel's lips joined with my cunt. I look down at him with panic, mouthing 'no' at him but he doesn't listen.

"Are you alright?" He asked and I felt guilty because he genuinely seemed worried for me.

"Oh— I'm fine just," I struggle to come up with an excuse while Azriel was fucking the thoughts out of me with his tongue.

"Just an emergency happ— happened with my, uhm my roommate," I choke out and Azriel just looks up at me innocently, his hands gripping my thighs as he rolls his long tongue inside of me at a certain spot and I have to fight a moan from slipping past my lips.

"Oh, alright well I can stick around for a while if you think you'll be able to make it?" Nelm suggests from the other end of the line and I curse myself for ever leading this poor guy on when I was clearly not ready for any serious relationship while actively living with my crush.

"I'm so sorry but maybe we can reschedule— fuck," My words turn into curses as Azriel bites at my sensitive clit, silently telling me that my chances of going out with anyone but him were never going to happen. He soothes the bite with the flat of his tongue, circling it directly after with tight, rough movements. I arch into his face, writing into the mattress as I fight my moans off.

"That's fine, when are you free?" Nelm asks and I grit my teeth, shoving my head into the pillows.

"Mm, you know what? I'll just, I can text you my schedule and— and gods, I, I'll let you know when I'm free," I voice, my tone coming off all too whiny as I let a few moans slip through.

"Okay, good luck with whatever your roommate's emergency is." He mumbles, a slight sourness to his tone but who wouldn't be upset after someone flaked on them?

"Yeah, thanks— bye," I grit through my teeth and quickly pull the phone from my ear and hang up the phone.

A loud moan immediately escapes from my throat as soon as the phone shuts off. I let it slip from my hand and fall to the floor absentmindedly as Azriel continues his cruel work at my clit.

I grab him by the hair and pull him away from my heat. "Why did you do that to me?" I pant out, my cheeks flushing with humiliation. He only grins, his lips coated in my slick as his dimples make an appearance.

"Had to show him what's mine," He says, his eyes dark as he leans down once more, flicking his tongue through my folds greedily.

"And I hate sharing," He confesses, diving back into my pussy, his lips sealing against my entrance as he continued fucking me with his tongue, flicking it in and out of me, alternating between my clit and entrance creating an overwhelming amount of stimulation. I pull at his hair and he delights in the pain. I clench my legs around him tighter and I didn't even get the chance to warn him before I teeter over that edge and cum on his tongue.

I pant out for air but it's lost on me as my second climax greets me, hitting me much harder than the last and threatening to knock me out. I swore my ears started ringing for a moment as my vision went fuzzy. Pleasure bloomed through me in the most intense way, still buzzing at my fingertips as he pulled away from my cunt and slowly kissed up my stomach, my sternum, my neck, all the way back to my lips and once he got there I regained all of my senses and enough energy to kiss him back.

His hand came up to my jaw, thumb stroking along it with a soft touch like I was the most precious thing in the world. He pulls away, looking down at me with a prideful smirk.

"My pretty girl." He admired and something in his gaze told me this was so much more than just a hookup.

"You were jealous," I say and he smirks, placing a soft kiss on my lips and allowing me to taste myself once more.

"Of course I was," He murmurs, pulling away less than an inch, his nose still brushing against mine. "But can you blame me?" He asked. "I can't just watch the girl I'm in love with go on a date with some asshole named Nelm," He grumbled and I discarded the insult towards the kind man, focusing on his confession. Heat stained my cheeks in slight shock.

"You're in love with me?" I murmur in slight shock and he shakes his head in disbelief.

"Ever since I can remember." He admits and a small smile spreads over my lips. "Sorry, if that scares you." His voice turns soft and I can't help but crumble in his hold.

"No, I'm in love with you too," I say slightly nervously, and dimples grace his features.

"Oh, thank god." He sighs then leans down and presses his lips to mine harshly, holding a level of confidence that wasn't there before.

"Why don't we take this to the bedroom?" He suggests as he pulls away and my grin widens, I wrap my hands around the back of his neck excitedly.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that," I hum, my legs wrapping around his hips.

"I think I have some idea," He says, his hips pressing into mine and at his words, I realize he's referring to his clothed bulge straining against his pants and rubbing against my folds. I flash a devilish smile.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

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[cubicaltitan]

Payback | Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel had tied you up and tortured you with his fingers, tongue and cock many times. Having you begging to touch him, begging for release. Now it’s your turn to get your payback.

Warnings: SMUT (18+!!)

—

You were dressed in the new lacy set of lingerie you had bought earlier that day. Feyre and Nesta had invited you to go with them on their shopping day. Dresses, jewelry and art were expected, but you didn’t expect to follow them into the discreet shop that contained many sets of lace and toys of all sorts.

You were hesitant to buy anything knowing that the High Lady and her sister would see it and know who you would wear it for. Nesta convinced you to buy some anyway.

You picked up a few sets in different colors and designs but as soon as you saw this one you knew the Shadowsinger would love it the most. Imagining him lose control when he saw it, you purchased it with no hesitation. The two Archeron sisters eyed it and winked at you with knowing smirks on their faces.

Now you were waiting for Azriel to return home from the Illaryan camp he was sent to for the day.

You felt sexy in your new set. You stared at yourself in the mirror for longer than you’d like to admit when you first put it on. Admiring how it framed your figure. How it accentuated your breasts and the curve of your hips, your ass and your thick, athletic thighs that your mate loved to bury his head between.

From your mates study you heard the front door open and close. A second later his shadows were swarming you. They swirled around you and when they registered the state you were in they darted out of the room, back to their master.

You heard Azriel make his way up the stairs, and push the door open slowly. He watched you with predatory eyes as you walked to the front of his desk, leaning back against it, your thighs and ass resting against the cold wood.

“Hmm” your mate hummed in approval. You felt his arousal spike through the bond. His eyes flared as he looked you up in down, soaking in your appearance and appreciating your new outfit.

“Do you like it?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

He leaned against the doorway, his hands resting on the frame behind him. “It is by far my favorite you’ve ever worn” he said as he stared at your breasts. You could barely see your nipples and the jewelry that was in them through the material. He loved all the piercings you had. He said the one in the center of your bottom lip was his favorite but you knew better. Your pierced nipples and clit were his favorite.

He started towards you but as he went to reach for you, your power stopped him. Placing an invisible wall between you.

“Let me through” he said with irritation in his voice.

“Sit down” you pointed to his desk chair that was behind you.

He groaned in defiance but obeyed. You turned to face him as he was taking his seat, the desk being the only separation between you two.

You walked around the desk and started to unlace and unbutton his leathers. The leathers you loved to watch him fight in.

He grabbed your hips but you quickly removed his hands, placing them on his own thighs. “No” is all you said.

“You’re not going to let me touch you?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No” you replied with a smirk.

Confusion and frustration marked his face. You knew he would try again but you wanted to test him, push him before you took complete control.

You finished removing his leather top, running your hands across his muscular chest, and moved on to unlacing his boots. You were now on your knees, on of his favorite ways to see you and you knew he was struggling to keep his hands to himself. His fists clenched on his lap, his cock hardening under his leather pants. You stood again, placing yourself between his legs. You grabbed his chin lightly and pushed his head up so his eyes would meet yours. His deep blue eyes stared into you, and you saw the war he was fighting in his mind. He wanted to grab you and take you right there on the desk. You considered letting him, knowing it would be rough and hot. He scented your arousal and reached for you again, this time grabbing the backs of your thighs and pulling you closer to him.

You leaned down and kissed him softly, pulling away slightly when he tried to take control and deepen the kiss.

He groaned in frustration and opened his eyes to meet yours.

“You’re being very difficult today” he said as he let go of your legs and leaned back in the chair.

“I know” is all you said as you walked behind the chair. You lightly grabbed his arms from either side and guided them behind the chair being careful of his wings.

“What are you doing?” He asked in an alarmed voice.

“Getting payback” you said as you used your magic to tether his wrists together behind the chair.

You moved to be in front of him again, grazing his wing with your finger in the process. He shivered and his face giving away his frustration that he couldn’t touch you.

“Are you okay my love?” You asked cocking your head to the side.

He didn’t reply. He sent a wave of his frustrated arousal through the bond and you smiled.

You sat on the desk, your legs dangling. He was only a foot in front of you but he couldn’t touch you.

“What do you want?” You asked him in a sweet voice.

“I want to bed you over that desk and fuck you until you don’t know your own name” he said as he attempted to lean towards you.

The words made you hot and wet and he could smell how bad you wanted him. Your scent has always driven him crazy and you have used that to your advantage many times.

“You look a little… restrained.” You say slowly. “I guess you’ll just have to watch instead”

His eyes widened at your words. You leaned back on the desk, now laying on it, your feet on the edges, legs open for him to see your covered area.

He groaned and you heard him move, fighting the restraints. You began running your hands over your body. You pinched your nipples through the fabric and quietly moaned. His shadows lightly moving over your skin made everything feel more intense, acting as a ghost of his touch.

His breathing became audible and heavy. You played with your breasts through the fabric for a moment enjoying the enhanced sensation from the piercings. You slowly moved one hand down to the area between your legs.

You lightly grazed over your covered clit and felt how you had already soaked your new panties. You applied a little pressure, pleasing yourself through the fabric. You moaned quietly as you pleased yourself, teasing him. You know he likes to hear you, and wants you to be loud.

You hear him mutter a few profanities and you smirk.

Moving your hand, you slowly push your hand under the fabric and continue pleasuring yourself, the feeling overwhelming.

“I want to taste you” he whispered. You sit up slightly to look at him, using your free arm to hold you up.

You make eye contact with him and push two of your fingers into yourself. Feeling the slick on your fingers you pull them out of your panties and sit up completely.

You reach toward him, placing your free hand on his neck and move your slick covered fingers toward his mouth. He takes them in his mouth and moans, tasting you.

You let go of his neck and lay back down on the desk. You lift your hips and drag your panties off. Placing them on the desk next to you. You spread your legs again so he can now see your wet area, the piercing he loves so much, and the small bit of natural red hair you always leave for him.

“Fuck me” he says, barely a whisper.

“Maybe” you reply as your hand returns to what it was doing before.

You alternate between rubbing your clit, playing with the piercing, and inserting your fingers inside yourself, sending waves of pleasure through you.

You start to moan a little louder while doing this, from the pleasure, and from the scent of your mates arousal.

The familiar feeling of your release edges closer and you begin to quicken your movements, your breathing becomes faster and your moans louder.

You both know what is about to happen and you can feel Azriels eagerness through the bond.

“Come for me love” you hear him say in a low voice. A moment later you do, squirting your release on his chest. You moan as you work yourself through your release and you hear your mate moaning as he watches you and at the feeling of your juices on him.

Once you recover from your orgasm, you sit up to look at him. The hunger in his eyes is consuming. You slowly make your way to your knees between his legs.

“Fuck” He mutters. “Please” he begs looking down at you.

Running your hands up his thighs, you reach the strings of his leathers and slowly begin to undo them. He squirms with impatience when you lightly run your hand over his covered cock.

Finally you say fuck it and use your magic to remove his leather pants, getting impatient with the process.

You look up at him as you grab the base of his cock and lightly kiss his tip.

He groans and throws his head back.

You take the tip of him in your mouth and suck lightly. He moans in appreciation, finally feeling your touch.

You work him with your hand and mouth, his moans filling the air. He bucks his hips, trying to get you to take more of him. In response you remove your mouth from him. His head snaps to look at you with pleading eyes.

You lick him from the base of his cock to the tip and take him in your mouth again. His moans become louder and his breathing more uneven.

Once you are happy with how worked up you have him you remove yourself and stand.

He groans is frustration at the lack of touch but you quiet him with a kiss. You straddle him as you kiss him, your tongues fighting for dominance.

You can feel his cock against you as he moves his hips to find friction. You bite his lip and release it, pulling away from him slightly.

You smile at him and ask “Do you want something?”

“I want to be inside you. Now.” He says out of breath.

You lift yourself and use your hand to line his cock up to your entrance. You slowly lower yourself onto him. You both moan in relief, finally being able to feel each other.

You lightly touch the top of his wing and he growls. You love touching his wings. You love his reactions to your touch.

You keep a slow pace as he tries to thrust up into you. You kiss him hard and deep as you begin to quicken your pace.

His moans and grunts urge you on as you continue to rise and fall on him.

He buries his face in your neck, nipping and licking the area.

“Please” he begs. He doesn’t say what he wants but you know. And you want it too.

You release his hands from your power and they immediately come to your hips lifting you up and slamming you down at a fast pace.

Both of your moans become uncontrollable. Your breath mixing in your close proximity.

He stands, lifting you with him and placing you on the desk. You lay back against it, him still inside you. He pulls your breasts out of the top of your bra and brings his mouth to one of them, pinching the other as he thrusts into you.

You already feel another release building in your core. You send the feeling through the bond and he picks up his pace. He relentlessly fucks you and you wrap your legs around him, locking your ankles behind his back.

“Az I’m so close” you barely get out through the moans he is bringing out of you. He continues with his pace, not changing anything.

You cry out as your second orgasm washes over you.

“Fuck you feel so good around me” he say in your ear before he kisses you.

His thrusts start to get faster and less controlled and you know he is close. You move your fingers to his wing and lightly brush over the spot you know makes him lose control.

He puts his forehead against yours and bites your lip. When he releases you he moves his mouth to your neck. Sucking and biting the sensitive flesh.

“Come for me love” you whisper in his ear. And after a few deep and hard thrusts he does, his moans loud and hot against your skin.

You stay like that for a moment, him still inside you, catching your breath.

He lifts himself from your body and removes his cock. He kisses your body before he picks you up, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist and takes you to your shared bathroom.

He sets you on the counter and moves to start the bath. Once the tub is full you both enter the tub, you sitting in front of him, your back resting against his chest.

“That was fucking hot” he tells you as he washes your body.

You turn around and smile at him. He leans in and kisses you, pulling your legs over his lap to start it all again.

Fin.

—

Thank you for reading! This is the first smut I’ve ever written so I hope you enjoyed!

[mirandasidefics]

Autumn Leaves

(Late Submission for @erisweekofficial Prompt: Bonds/Bargains 👑)

Pairing(s): Eris x Archeron Sister! Reader  

Summary: Eris never anticipated to find his Mate in a former human. 

Word Count: 3.1K

Warning(s): Mention of traumatic childbirth, mentions of Beron (he’s a trigger all on his own these days). 

Author’s Note: BASED ON THIS REQUEST. I felt that this scenario fit perfectly with the prompt of Bonds/Bargains for Eris Week. I hope that this fits well with what you had wanted anon! I know the request specifically asked for Reader to be the youngest, but I felt that it would be a bit more inclusive to leave the birth order more ambiguous for those that maybe don’t relate to being the youngest sibling. My brain wasn’t functioning enough to allow me to write an understandable dance scene, so…sorry that it's not as descriptive as I would have preferred. I also didn’t go back to review any of the events that occurred in ACOWAR or ACOSF, so if it’s not exactly canon compliant just ignore that. Also, Lucien was at the Hewn City solstice ball for this because I said so. 

Special thanks to @hardcoremarvelfan for beta reading and coming up with the title for this. Also, there will very likely be a part 2.

dividers by @/tsunami-of-tears ACOTAR Masterlist

The first time Eris saw the Made female he was immediately intrigued. She was quiet and stoic, much like the two sisters she accompanied for the High Lord’s meeting. Her eyes, the same shade as her sisters, appeared cold as she took in the room. It was clear she was observing more than she let on, gaze trained forward yet keenly aware of every single one of the High Lords and their various entourages. It was apparent to Eris that she saw more than her sisters, perhaps even more than his brother’s mate who was rumored to have been gifted the powers of a Seer by the Cauldron. He could feel the power that radiated off this fourth sister and couldn’t help but wonder what gifts she may have been granted. 

The second time he saw her was at the end of the battle with Hybern on the edge of the Spring and Summer Court border. Her eyes appeared distant as if she was separated from her body and the gore that surrounded her. But his answer regarding her gift had been answered as a circle of ice forged spears surrounded her. At least a dozen bodies were skewered while she stood stock still in the center of the circle. He had been compelled to approach her, but his brother got to her first, asking if she was okay and if she had seen his mate. After a single nod and a pointed finger towards a series of tents Lucien gently guided her away from the carnage she wrought. 

The third time he saw her was at the solstice ball in the Hewn City over a year later. Dressed in a drab black gown clearly intended to prevent her from sticking out. However, it wouldn’t have mattered if she was dressed down or in the most lavish of gowns. Eris’ eyes were instantly drawn to her as soon as she processed along with the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. His youngest brother was by her side as an escort. As she approached the dias with her family, her eyes found his own, and Eris felt the world tilt on its axis. It took all of his mental will power to remain upright at the realization of what she was to him. Mate. 

Eris couldn’t remove his eyes from the female as Rhysand made his speech. Nor could he remove them when the music started and various Fae in attendance began to dance. He followed every one of her steps as she was escorted towards the dance floor, a beautiful smile spread wide across plush pink lips. He was vaguely aware of Rhysand's approach, his introduction to the High Lady’s sister. The only one that was dressed to be admired by the eyes of others. Nesta, he believed it was. But Eris wasn’t interested in the female that stood before him. He held up a hand, instantly silencing the High Lord, and simply pointed to the sister on the dance floor. 

“What is her name?” He asked, the light russet gaze never faltering. Eris could feel the tension in Nesta’s shoulders as she followed his gesture. Rhysand, always one to never give away his thoughts, supplied her name. Eris repeated it, the name tasting like honeyed wine in his mouth. Nesta attempted to redirect the conversation and offered Eris a dance, but the Autumn Heir ignored her. 

“Any bargains that you wish to make will be offered by her,” Eris’ voice was smooth as his eyes finally met purple. “Shall I introduce myself or will you make the introduction for me?” Rhysand turned his head towards the direction where Lucien spun her around as the two waltzed. His youngest brother’s head whipped in their direction, before he halted his dance and brought her over for a formal introduction. As expected, the female politely accepted Eris’ invitation for a dance. 

That first dance was all it took for Eris to know he didn’t want to be separated from her moving forward. Her demeanor was so different from what he had observed when he was only able to watch her from afar. He danced with only her for the remainder of the celebration and found himself completely enraptured by her. While he could tell that she wasn’t as strong a dancer as her sister, whom he caught out of the corner of his eye, it didn’t deter his conviction of only wanting to be by her side. Conversation flowed freely and easily as they danced. She was sharp witted, with a penchant for dry sarcasm. Her wry smile and her laugh ignited something deep within. 

Eris always had a drive to protect those he cared for, such as his Mother and Lucien, but the desire to keep her safe was stronger than anything he had experienced before. He couldn’t leave her in the Night Court, even if most of her time was spent in a city far safer than the one in which they danced. However, she couldn’t exactly join him in the Autumn lest he run the risk of her becoming one of Beron’s targets to keep Eris in line. For the first time in decades, Eris didn’t know what to do. 

“Is everything alright my Lord?” Her voice was filled with nothing but genuine gentle concern. His eyes refocused from their far away haze, taking in her sharp features. Features that were so indicative of the High Fae. Looking at her one would never guess that she used to be human. 

“Eris,” He corrected. “Please.” 

“Is everything alright, Eris?” Her cheeks flushed with the slightest tinge of pink. His own heart stirred at her reaction to the use of his name. Their dance had come to a halt, and he hadn’t even realized the musicians were taking a break. 

“Yes,” He cleared his throat. “Just a bit lost in thought.” She nodded her head, taking a slight step back from his hold on her waist. Eris had to refrain from the desire to pull her back towards his chest. 

“I’ve enjoyed our time together,” She took a look towards her sisters. All three were huddled against the edge of the dance floor. Nesta and Feyre’s sharp steel gazes attempted to pierce through the mask that Eris held in place. While the other, whose name he had sadly forgotten, had a glazed over look. Upon focusing, he noticed that the brown was nearly obscured by milky white. He heard the female in front of him gasp, her eyes trained on the Seer. Her head whipped back towards him, giving a slight nod.  

“I hope that we are able to count on your discretion about the Trove,” Her speech was rushed and she gathered the bottom of her skirts. “I’m certain that the High Lord will provide support to any claim you have to being the Heir.” With a quick second bow in parting she turned to rush over to her sisters. 

Before she got too far, Eris grasped her elbow and asked, “Would you come visit me? In Autumn?” She blinked at him. Almost as if she was surprised by his desire to see her again. 

“I must get to my sister,” She glanced back across the hall, at the High Lady trying to gain the attention of the Seer who was clearly lost in a vision. 

“I understand,” He released his grip and nodded solemnly. “I will write to you.” She blinked again. What he wouldn’t give to know what that beautiful mind was processing. She gave him a curt nod, before she quickly made her way across the hall. 

Eris couldn’t even last a week before sending his first letter. Again he asked if she would be interested in visiting his home court. She provided no answer or any acknowledgement of his question. Of course this didn’t deter Eris as they continued to exchange letters. With each one he would make his offer, enticing her with descriptions of celebrations and various traditions. He would tell her about his Hounds and his Mother. Yet she continued to not provide an answer to his offer. This same pattern went on for three months before Eris had enough of the tip-toeing around the subject. He was determined to get an answer, even if it was “No”. 

Eris arrived at what he assumed was Rhysand’s townhouse as the High Lord had instructed in his brief correspondence with the Autumn Heir.  He tapped the back of his knuckles on the large oak door. A few brief moments drifted by with no response. No movement could be heard from inside either. He peered his head towards the large bay window at the front, but the curtains were drawn shut. 

His heartbeat began to quicken with each passing moment as there continued to be no response. Eris was wholly unfamiliar with the city. He had no clue where to even begin looking for his mate. He was under the impression that he was at least expected by Rhysand. So why was no one here? 

Eris turned, prepared to winnow to the Hewn City in the hopes that Keir may have knowledge of where the High Lord could be, despite how unlikely that prospect was. Instead, he came face to face with an ethereal looking female. Skin and hair dark as shadows. A billowy white dress hugged her frame, yet appeared as if it was floating in a barrier of invisible water. It took him a minute to recognize her as one of Rhysand’s half wraith servants from Under the Mountain. 

“They are all at the High Lord and Lady’s home,” The female began to explain without preamble. “If you would follow me.” She turned, not bothering to ensure that the Autumn Lord followed. When the pair approached the near ostentatiously large home near the riverfront, screams could be heard from inside. If his heart hadn’t already been on the verge of an attack it surely was now. The half-wraith opened the front entrance, beckoning Eris to follow. 

No sooner as he stepped inside did his mate come surrying down the main staircase of the foyer. A pile of blood stained sheets spilling over her arms. Her eyes were rimmed in scarlet. Stepping onto the bottom landing she finally looked up, taking notice of the male. 

“Eris,” Her voice was no more than a whisper. Her lower lip wobbled, teeth sinking into it to prevent the tremble. Eris didn’t bother with formality, taking quick strides to meet her. As he reached her side, she dropped the pile of fabric and allowed her arms to encircle his waist. Her body shook with her sobs as her finger dug into his shoulders. 

“Feyre went into labor unexpectedly,” She cried into the elaborate brocade of his tunic. “The babe…his wings…” She couldn’t get her thoughts out in a coherent manner without the sobs overtaking her completely. “ They’re dying, Eris.” She wailed upon hearing her own words spoken aloud. He pulled her in tighter to his chest, his other hand gently rubbing in soothing circles along her shoulders. Eris had no words that could provide her with any sort of comfort, making him feel as if he was already failing her as her Mate. All the male could do was hold her and hope that she didn’t feel as alone in her grief if the High Lady of the Night Court somehow didn’t survive.  

Suddenly, Elain called out to her sister from the top of the staircase, “Come quick! Nesta she…” The warm brown eyes of the middle sister swam with unshed tears, a smile graced her features as well. Eris’ shoulders relaxed as the female's expression could only be an indication of good news. His mate quickly detached herself from his hold, racing back towards where the family convened. 

As soon as the two were out of sight, Eris looked around the foyer. He quickly found a small bench and sat down. He had never felt more awkward in his life. While he had developed a correspondence with this particular sister, he wasn’t exactly part of the family just yet. 

Eris sat in the hall, waiting for what felt like hours for his mate to return. Once she did, she escorted him into a large sitting room. 

“They’re going to live,” She smiled, sitting down in a chair across from him. She smoothed out her skirt, tucking in a corner that had somehow ended up with blood spatter staining the material. Eris merely hummed in acknowledgment. He didn’t know what to do with himself now that they had a moment alone like this. He had planned this elaborate greeting and proposal for her to come and visit, not giving her the room to ignore the request. However, that all went right out the proverbial window. His hands straightened the fabric of his shirt, then went to remove a non-existent strand of hair from his trousers, before finally resting on his lap. 

“You’re fidgeting,” She pointed out. Her smile grew as she suppressed a giggle. He was happy to see that her mood had lifted so quickly. It made the reason for his visit appear less strange, inappropriate even given the intensity of the events that occurred. She gently placed one of her hands over his. Her delicate fingers soothing and calming the rolling fire that he didn’t even notice had built up within himself. He allowed himself to grasp her hand in return, interlacing their digits. The sensation of fire against ice erupted throughout his being. Opposite yet still a perfect complement of powers. Eris couldn’t help but wonder what they would be able to achieve together. 

“Eris,” Her voice pulled him from his thoughts, his deep hues meeting her own cool gaze. “I’m happy to see you, but what are you doing here?” He swallowed, suddenly realizing that his actions were a bit sudden and perhaps not as well thought out as he intended. His arrival without notice to her would be unexpected. He only informed Rhysand that he needed to speak to Archeron female, but never explained why. 

“I,” He began, voice cracking. His pale features flushed and he was reminded of his younger days when his voice hovered between childhood and deeper timber of maturity. The female before him suppressed another giggle behind her unclasped hand. 

“I’m here because you consistently ignore a very specific question,” His gaze was steady, exuding what he hoped would be seen as confidence and not the uncertainty he felt. “I’ve come to ask one final time. If you say no, I will not burden you with asking ever again.” 

“Eris,” She pulled her hand away, eyes now unable to meet his own. 

“I acknowledge that Autumn is not always considered the most beautiful, what with the decay that can accompany the season in the mortal lands, so if you don’t like it-”

“Why would I not like the place where my mate lives?” Her perfect brows furrowed as she looked at him. Eris was at a loss for words. 

“When…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. However, it appeared that he didn’t need to as her response was a perfect correlation to what was on his mind.  

“Since the Winter Solstice,” She said. “When you first asked me to come visit.” It was Eris’ turn to blink in stunned silence. She had given no indication of being aware of who he was to her. Then again, he also hadn’t explicitly made their bond known. Perhaps he was wrong in thinking that his actions were obvious. 

“It’s not that I’m afraid that I won’t like it there,” She went on. “I’m actually afraid that I would not want to leave. But I simply can’t abandon my sisters.” She lowered her head, averting her gaze from the embarrassment. However, Eris understood the desire to be with her siblings. The same desire to ensure the well-being and safety of his younger brothers was one of his reasons for not abandoning the Autumn court. For enduring the cruelty of his Father for nearly 5 centuries. 

“I would never ask that you do,” He assured. “In fact, I wouldn’t want you to call the Autumn Court home just yet anyway. Not while my father still breathes.”

“I’m not afraid-”

“I am,” Eris admitted quietly. “I can’t risk anything happening to you.” He meant it, and was surprised at how easily the truth slipped from him. But it was just the two of them at this moment. He didn’t have to hide behind that mask when with her. He tucked a strand of (h/c) hair behind the perfectly pointed arch of her ear. He watched a shiver run through her as his flesh met hers. 

“There are some places where I can keep you safe,” He explained, all of his thoughts spewing forth as his mind raced to prove that he could keep her safe enough for short visits. “Places where my Father doesn’t have the loyalty of the subjects, but they are loyal to me. I have a cabin, just along the borders of Summer and Winter. Close enough for you to run across either should the need arise. I’d prefer Summer, there is a temple not far from the border where you could claim sanctuary until Rhysand or one of the brutes could get you.”

“Eris…” 

“Please,” He implored. “I do not wish to scare you away or force you to come. But I cannot stay separated from you much longer. My brother is the one with the endless amounts of patients when it truly matters.”  She laughed, the melodic and soft sound made him feel light. 

“How often can we meet?” She inquired. Her bright blue eyes lit with anticipation of when they could have their time. 

“I can secure a few days away every month,” He explained, almost more to himself than her as he considered the variety of excuses he would need to utilize. “Maybe up to a week at most. The time of month would need to vary as well. Any semblance of a pattern would tip my Father off. He’s just paranoid enough to assume that I’d be planning some type of conspiracy against him.” Of course, his Father’s fears were not without reason. Eris was indeed planning to usurp the High Lord. Someday. 

“Alright then,” She beamed. “I will come and visit. Every month so long as it is safe and as long as I am able to return to my sisters.” Eris felt the corners of his mouth lift up, and soon she mirrored the expression. His heart flipped, and he had to clear his throat to regain control of his senses. 

“Then I shall send word when everything is ready.” He stood, preparing to leave when she clasped his hand again. 

“Stay for a while Eris,” Her voice was soothing, making it feel like she wasn’t giving him a command. Even if she had, he would have gladly done anything she bid of him. He knew in that instant he would do anything for her. 

General Tag list: @loving-and-dreaming @samslulumelon

[cressidagrey]

The Witching Hour - Chapter 1 - Nesta

Summary: 

5 Times members of the Inner Circle get absolutely terrified by Azriel's...whatever she is, and 1 (of many) times Azriel thinks that his witch was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Warnings: 

Nightmares, mention of the blood rite, friends with benefits sort of relationship, stabbing (in the past), magical mental health care (sorta)

(super pretty dividers by @cafekitsune)

The night air was crisp, but not cold, a welcome reprieve from the summer heat.

But none of this was calming down Nesta's racing heart, even when she stamped down the panic that rose in her chest.

She shielded the bond from it as well as she could, not wanting to wake up Cassian...again.

Nesta didn't know what it was but...but somehow the nightmares that involved the Blood Rite were...worse than even the ones that involved her father dying...the ones that involved that gods-forsaken cauldron.

Somehow the Blood Rite...somehow that was leaving her in a state of panic that nothing could touch. Not even Cassian. And he tried. Her mate did try.

She tried to. She tried everything...making herself so busy with training and work that she should fall into bed with pure exhaustion...sleeping with Cassian and hoping that maybe the pleasure of that would wipe away the nightmares…

Nothing worked.

Nothing helped. Each time she closed her eyes, the same images would invade her mind. The endless days of battle, the gruelling journey through the mountains, the horrors of the Blood Rite...they all appeared with a sickening vividness that made it seem like she wasn't just experiencing a mere nightmare, but actually reliving those horrible days.

It made her throw up and want to cry...want to roll herself together in a miserable little ball because she didn't know what else to do anymore

The panic rose in her chest, making her heart pound in her ears. She was getting desperate, desperately searching for a way to make the nightmares stop. She was considering sleeping outside, on the balcony in the night air, just for a change of scenery.

It seemed ridiculous, but...but at this point...at this point, she'd try anything.

She took a shaking breath, her hand gripping the balcony railing tighter, her knuckles turning white. The night air, usually so calming, was doing little to ease the tightness in her chest.

She was contemplating going back inside and trying to sleep again...just closing her eyes and hoping that maybe this time she would experience something different...when suddenly, she heard the flapping of wings...

Nesta turned her head towards the sound, her senses on high alert. The wings sounded large, powerful, and...familiar.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Azriel appeared before her, slipping over the balcony railing, shadows swirling around his shoulders. "Nesta," he greeted her calmly, giving her a slow nod...like it was totally normal for him to appear on her balcony in the middle of the night.

"You weren't there at dinner," she blurted out because she hadn't seen him since this morning.

"I had a late dinner with an old friend," Azriel answered. Azriel's response made sense, even if the notion of a "late dinner" with an old friend sounded strange to Nesta. But then again, who was she to judge? Azriel spent most of his time being the Spymaster of the Night Court, so she supposed it shouldn't surprise her that he had...odd friends.

"Oh," was all she could manage in response.

"I didn't know you had friends." She immediately regretted her words but Azriel just chuckled.

"Just the one," he promised her, as he leaned against the railing next to her. She caught a sense clinging to him that she couldn't place.

She eyed him carefully, her eyes taking in the mysterious shadow clinging to him. It was a scent that she couldn't quite place, but it was oddly...familiar, too.

Azriel chuckled again, his voice still as calm and steady as ever.

"Just the one," he repeated. "An old friend, from a long time ago."

"Can't sleep?" He asked quietly, his voice a deep rumble.

She gave a slight nod, not looking at Azriel. The nightmares were the one thing she didn't want to discuss with him or anyone for that matter. She didn't want them to know how weak she was, how she still couldn't get a rein on her emotions and her thoughts. She didn't want them to think any more of her as a fragile, broken thing than they already did.

The thought of it, it made her sick.

But...but she had a feeling that Azriel wouldn't judge her, or look at her in that way. Maybe she could...maybe she could ask for help. Or at least...let him know that something was wrong.

She swallowed hard and then said, her voice hardly more than a whisper: "No, I can't...I can't sleep. The...the nightmares."

Azriel gave a nod as if he already knew. His voice was still that same calm and steady as he said, "The Blood Rite?"

Nesta gave another nod. How had he guessed so easily? But then again...it wasn't that hard to guess. The nightmares hadn't started until after that event.

But at least these days she didn't wake up with her entire room engulfed in silver flames anymore.  She took a shaking breath, fighting to keep her emotions in check. She wasn't a child. She shouldn't be affected by this. She shouldn't be this much of a mess...

"I am surprised you didn't wake up Cassian when you got up," Azriel said suddenly.

Nesta’s eyes widened a little bit at that. Was she that obvious? Did she look that shake? She had hoped she'd done a better job of putting up a mask in front of the others.

"I didn't want to bother him," she replied quietly. "Let him sleep...I wake him often enough."

"He's your mate," Azriel said evenly. "He would want to be there for you."

His words were like a punch to the gut. She knew that her mate would want to be there for her, and would want to help her. Hell, he probably would already be here, holding her, comforting her...if he knew how bad the nightmares were.

But...but she didn't want to burden him like that. She couldn't keep burdening him...

"He tries to comfort me and then he gets no sleep as well. And I will not be the reason why he has a moment of inattentiveness that ends up costing his life, just because I can't control myself," Nesta hissed.

Her voice was bitter as she spoke. She hated admitting it, saying it out loud...but it was true. She was a burden. She was holding Cassian back, making him waste his nights trying to soothe her instead of getting the rest and preparation he needed for a mission.

She couldn't keep doing that to him. She just...she just couldn't.

A silence fell between them then, her words hanging in the air. She didn't know what Azriel was thinking, what was going on in his head. But he didn't try and refute her words, which only further confirmed the terrible thoughts swirling in her mind.

Another beat of silence, as Nesta let the terrible, awful thoughts swirl through her head.

Then, quietly, as if he had read her mind. "You are not a burden," Azriel said.

Another beat of silence, as she let the terrible, awful thoughts swirl through her head.

Then, quietly, as if he had read her mind. "You are not a burden," Azriel said.

"You are not a burden," he repeated, his voice even. "You are anything but."

She didn't reply, just continued staring out over the railing, her hands gripping the cold stone until her knuckles turned white. She was a burden, she knew that. And she didn't know why he was lying to her, trying to convince her otherwise.

"I have nightmares too," Azriel said suddenly.

Her eyes widened and she jerked her head around to look at him. Wait, what? Azriel had nightmares?

Her mouth opened, an astonished question on her lips, but Azriel didn't give her the chance to ask. He continued in the same even tone as if it was no big deal: "And many of them are about the Blood Rite too."

Her mind was reeling at his confession. Azriel had nightmares about the Blood Rite? The strong, mysterious warrior, the Shadowsinger, the Spymaster of the Night Court?

She couldn't even process the words. And he said it so casually, so nonchalantly as if he was merely discussing the weather and not admitting to being tormented by such horrible, painful nightmares.

"Even now, 500 years after it happened."

His voice was still emotionless, still so calm and steady, even as he admitted that.

It was unfathomable. How...how did he manage to survive through 500 years of these nightmares? She barely could make it a week…

She couldn't even fathom what it would be like, to have those memories torment her for 500 years and counting. To have no hope of them ever stopping.

A silence fell between them, her mind reeling at Azriel's confession. She was about to ask something, to say something...when he suddenly spoke again.

"You want them to stop? The nightmares?" He asked, his voice quiet, yet with a hint of command in it. A hint of that darkness within him, the shadows that swirled around him like an ever-present cloak.

Her eyes widened, a shiver running down her spine at the command in his voice. She gave a slow nod, not trusting her voice to speak.

Somehow...somehow the shadows around him seemed to swirl and dance a little faster, seeming almost excited at her nodded response.

She would give everything for these nightmares to stop

Her voice was a mere whisper, but the honesty in it seemed to resonate like an echo in the night's silence.

She would give anything to stop reliving those memories, to stop seeing those images, to stop...to stop feeling this pain. Anything, she'd give anything for that respite.

Azriel continued to regard her with those dark eyes, those shadows whirling around him. A part of her wondered, for a moment, just what the shadows were thinking. Did they know what Azriel was about to offer, what he was going to say? Was that why they seemed so excited, so anxious…

"Then let's go." He said that so easily as he held out his hand for her and Nesta took it.

In a heartbeat, she'd taken his hand, her slender fingers closing around his. His grip was warm, strong, and...and it felt oddly steadying. Like an anchor to the ground.

The shadows engulfed them in a swirling vortex of darkness. For a moment, her heart thundered in her chest, a brief moment of panic at the feeling of being lost amid the shadows, at being so far from the ground.

But then...then the shadows seemed to shift, Azriel's firm grip on her hand the only anchor to reality, to the ground.

A moment later, the shadows faded away, and she found herself standing in a street in Velaris.

"I thought you couldn't winnow at the House of Wind," she said weakly.

"No winnowing. Shadow Walking," Azriel corrected her absentmindedly.

What? She had no clue what even was the difference.

"I am only wearing my nightgown," she hissed at him a moment later.

For the first time since they'd left the balcony, Azriel turned towards her, his eyes taking in her appearance, raking over her form.

His dark eyes scanned over her frame, her pale nightgown and slippered feet. For a moment, she felt self-conscious, almost shrinking back from that gaze...but then a smirk curled his lips.

"Don't worry, she won't care," he said drily. "She's seen a lot worse. And a lot more."

“It’s the middle of the night!” she protested next. 

“It’s a full moon. She’s pretty much nocturnal during this time of the month,” he waved her off. 

What kind of friend was this even?!

"Who is she?" Nesta demanded as Azriel led her to a door that was looking...harmless.

"Just a friend," Azriel said simply, his step not faltering as he led her towards the unassuming door.

It looked ordinary, so much so that a passerby would never guess that there was anything special behind it.

He didn't elaborate on the mysterious "she" who was behind the door...and Nesta had a feeling that he wouldn't, not until the moment she would see his friend for herself.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as they approached the door, a mixture of curiosity and trepidation swirling within her.

Azriel was being infuriatingly coy about everything. He wouldn't tell her who they were visiting, how he knew this person, or why this person could help her.

All she could do was follow him towards the unassuming door, her nightgown swishing around her ankles.

When they reached the door, Azriel gave her a slight smirk, as if silently saying, "Ready to find out?"

Nesta shot him a glare back, her eyes narrowing. If he was trying to drive her crazy, he was doing a good job of it.

She had about 5 different insults on the tip of her tongue, but before she had a chance to voice any of them, Azriel pushed open the door, revealing a...darkly elegant interior.

Her breath caught as she stepped across the threshold, her eyes scanning over the elegant yet dark interior of the shop.

Dark tapestries hung on the walls, illuminated by the dim light of the numerous candles scattered throughout. The scent of various herbs and spices filled the air, mingling with the lingering scent of something...stronger. There was a...mysterious energy to the place, a sense of something ancient and powerful.

And then, Nesta came eye to eye with a pitch black...something. Golden eyes with slitted pupils watched her from the darkness and she froze. Like a cat, it stared at her. But for a cat, it was...too big. Too tall. It would at least reach Azriel's waist.

Her heart quickened at the sight of the...thing, watching her with its unblinking golden eyes. It was like a cat, but wrong, far too big to be a house cat. She was frozen, her body tense as she held the gaze of the feline creature before her.

She was about to whisper to Azriel what the hell this thing was if he could explain this...but it was Azriel who broke the silence.

"Hello, Bella," Azriel said, his voice smooth and even.

His words sent a small shock through her, her eyes widening as she stared between the strange cat creature and Azriel. Bella? This creature was named Bella.

Azriel continued, as if oblivious to her shock, "I hope you don't mind me bringing some company this late at night."

The feline creature...Bella...huffed in response, seeming to look at Azriel with those golden eyes, as if silently judging him.

For a moment, Nesta was convinced that the creature would attack them, throw them out of the house, but then...

Suddenly, Bella turned her golden gaze back to her, those feline eyes seeming to scan her from head to toe.

And then it moved.

Bella moved with a fluid, almost graceful motion, its jet-black fur rippling as it stepped out of the shadows, its golden eyes still on Nesta.

It was a cat. A massive cat. A huge cat. Big enough that it would reach Azriel’s waist. Bella yawned, showing a mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth. Nesta thought she was going to faint

The cat-like creature circled her, its movements slow and deliberate. Her heart was still thundering in her chest, her eyes wide as she followed Bella's every movement, half prepared to flee if the creature attacked.

Nesta tried to remain steady, to keep her breathing even, but her heart was racing, drumming against her chest.

Bella continued circling her, those golden eyes never leaving her form for a second. It was like the creature was studying her, silently judging her, and it made her feel...uncomfortable.

"Oh, she likes you," a female voice said. "Did you bring us a toy, Shadowsinger?"

The new voice startled her, and her head jerked to the side just in time to see a woman moving into the room, stepping out of the shadows near the back of the room.

The woman was…utterly gorgeous, with green eyes and long red hair cascading down her back. 

Her eyes widened as she took in the woman before her, her body covered in a gold satin nightgown that clung to her curves and left very little to the imagination.

The woman -who could only be called a Goddess - smirked and was amused as she took in Nesta, her eyes scanning over her from head to toe in the same manner as Bella had.

She was clearly taking in every detail, her gaze sharp and unwavering, as if evaluating every bit of her appearance and body.

"I am not a toy," Nesta bristled.

"Of course not," the woman said with a smile, her voice smooth and silky. "But you are  very pretty."

The compliment sounded more like a statement, like the woman was judging a painting or a piece of jewellery. Her words were not rude...but they didn't hold much kindness, either, more like simple facts.

And they didn't do anything to soothe that flicker of envy that had arisen in Nesta at the sight of the other woman's beauty.

"We are in need of your services, Cate," Azriel said at that moment. Cate. Such a normal name...for such a woman. Her ears were pointed but...Nesta would have bet anything that she wasn't High Fae. She wasn't sure what she was but she wasn't...

Her eyes darted to Azriel, who had stepped up next to her, his gaze on the woman - Cate, it seemed she was called - with an expectant look.

"Services?" Cate repeated with a raised brow, her eyes flickering between them, before a smirk curled at the corner of her mouth. "And what sort of services can I render you, Shadowsinger?"

Her mind was spinning to try to make sense of the exchange, of that subtle… undercurrent of something that lay just beneath the words.

It was almost like there was a conversation happening she wasn't privy to, like they were speaking in a language she didn't understand.

She glanced at Azriel, trying to read his expression, but he was giving nothing away.

Cate's smirk widened as she took in both of them, her green eyes scanning over them with that sharpness that made Nesta feel more self-conscious of her own plain nightgown.

Azriel, meanwhile, remained as stoic, his features betraying nothing of his thoughts. He seemed to be waiting...but waiting for what, exactly?

The silence seemed to stretch on between them, the tension so heavy that Nesta could almost feel it pressing against her skin.

But then Cate moved, the silky fabric of her nightgown flowing around her as she took a few steps towards Azriel. Her eyes were still on Nesta, a smirk still on her lips as she purred out, "Why don't you tell me what services you require?" The woman's voice was low, almost sultry, and her eyes...her eyes were still on Nesta, studying her still.

Azriel's face remained expressionless as he spoke, his voice calm as he said, "She is in need of your help. She's been having nightmares. Bad ones. The same ones, over and over."

Cate's face changed into a look of understanding, a flicker of sympathy in her eyes as she took in the information. Her eyes flickered towards Nesta before returning to Azriel.

"The same nightmare," she repeated, her voice now thoughtful, before adding, "Every time?"

Azriel gave a grave nod, his voice steady as he replied, "Yes. Every night."

Cate's eyes widened just a fraction, her face taking on that thoughtful expression again, as if contemplating the information.

The woman suddenly moved towards a small table on the side, gesturing with a, "Sit. I'll make us some tea." Cate's words caught her off guard, her eyes widening a fraction…At that moment, Bella the cat walked over to her and rubbed herself against her legs.

Nesta froze for a moment, half expecting the creature to bite her. Instead, the cat merely purred as it rubbed its head against her shin. She glanced at Azriel questioningly, but he only shrugged in response, seemingly well used to the cat’s…usual antics. 

She took the hint, stepping over to the nearest chair and hesitantly taking a seat.

The room was so still, the only sound was the soft rustle of Cate's nightgown as she moved to prepare the tea, the occasional purring of the cat…now letting itself be pet by Azriel, leaning its massive head against his thigh. 

Azriel relaxed. She had never seen him that relaxed before. The shadows were swirling around Bella, the cat lazily swiping at them and that was that. 

Nesta, on the other hand, was anything but relaxed.

"What is she?" Nesta hissed at Azriel.

Azriel's expression remained unchanging, his gaze fixed on Cate as she moved about the room, preparing the tea. "Cate?" He repeated, not looking at her. "She's a witch."

Nesta's eyebrows shot up at the revelation. A witch? 

A witch. The one time she had been confronted with the idea of a witch had been in Illyria. Devlon had been terrified at the idea of Nesta being a witch.

Her mind immediately flashed back to her time in that cold, wretched camp.

Devlon, the sneering face of the war-camp lord. The memory of that small village, the whispered conversations…She couldn't help but remember the fear in Devlon's eyes when he confronted her about the rumours about her being a witch. He'd almost looked terrified like the mere thought of a witch was enough to frighten him.

And here in front of her, a witch stood before her, preparing to make her tea. She tried to keep her nerves in check, but her heart was hammering furiously.

Cate set the tea set down on the table in front of them, her movements graceful and fluid, like every move was a performance.

"Don't worry, I haven't eaten anyone in centuries," Cate quipped as she brought the tea to the table. "You can ask Azriel."

Cate's words startled her, a jolt of...fear mixed with surprise rushing through her at the woman's casual mention of potentially eating someone.

Slowly, Nesta turned back to Cate, trying to control the pounding of her heart in her chest. "You...haven't eaten anyone. In centuries," she repeated, unable to keep the disbelief out of her voice.

Cate gave her a smile that was full of teeth as if she knew exactly what effect her words were having on her. She seemed to find the whole thing amusing, her green eyes sparkling with humour, as if she was enjoying the fact that she was frightening her.

Azriel started laughing.

Nesta turned towards him quickly, utterly bewildered by the sound.

He was laughing. Azriel was laughing, his eyes sparkling with...amusement at the look on her face.

"She's joking," he said, his voice laced with humour. “A poor sense of humour, but still a joke.”

"You tend to like my sense of humour," Cate quipped, seating herself, a smile playing around her mouth. "I have never eaten another fae or faeries, I promise you, Nesta Archeron," she said easily.

Cate's words should have reassured her, but still, there was something about her that made her feel...unsettled. Cate moved with the grace of a predator, her every gesture full of a...confidence, a power, that was hard to ignore.

"How do you know my name?" she demanded.

Cate's smile grew wider at the sound of her question, her green eyes lighting up with amusement.

"Azriel told me, of course," she said, her voice smooth and silky.

Her gaze flicked over to Azriel, who was still watching the interaction with those calm hazel eyes.

It was...annoying. He was just watching them, like this was all some sort of game to him. Was it all just...a game?

Nesta couldn't help but feel a flicker of irritation at the thought. And at the fact that he seemed perfectly relaxed while she felt like she was ready to jump out of her skin

Cate noticed the irritation on her face and her smile grew wider, a spark of mischief in her eyes as she took in her expression.

"You're annoyed, aren't you?" Cate said smoothly, her voice full of amusement. "Annoyed that Azriel hasn't told you more about me, hasn't warned you about the 'scary witch'."

She couldn't help but flinch at the accuracy of Cate's words. She was annoyed. Annoyed that Azriel had brought her here without properly preparing her, without telling her more about the woman she was about to meet. It all felt...like a power play.

"It's not about you, it's about that mate of yours," Cate said with a shrug. "The General and I have had a rather...tumultuous past."

"With that, she means that she has once stabbed Cassian on general principle," Azriel jumped in with some amusement. "He has never forgiven her."

She felt her eyes widen in surprise, not just at the revelation that Cate had stabbed Cassian, but at the casual way Azriel mentioned it.

And yet, somehow, she suspected there was a lot more to the story than that...and that there was also a lot left unsaid between the two of them.

Cate rolled her eyes at Azriel's comment, her voice full of dry humour. "Cassian has always been one for holding a grudge, hasn't he?"

Her gaze flicked between the two of them, her mind swirling with questions...and curiosity.

There was a history here, between the two of them. A history filled with, it seemed, a whole lot of tension and...probably a lot of violence. And yet, they still seemed friendly. Even close, in a way.

Nesta was dying to know more, to dig deeper into the complexities of their relationship, but they were both being so...cryptic, answering some questions while conveniently ignoring others.

"Now," Cate spoke, her voice soft, "How long, exactly, have you been having these nightmares, Nesta?"

Her attention snapped back to Cate at her question, the mention of the nightmares sending a pang of anxiety through her.

She swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady as she answered, "A few months, now."

Cate's face grew serious at her reply, the amusement and mischief in her demeanour fading away, replaced by a look of concern. She leaned back in her chair, studying Nesta intently like she was trying to discern something from her expression.

"A few months," she repeated thoughtfully. "And they're every night?"

She gave a small nod, her heart rate picking up at the intensity of Cate's gaze. She didn't like how perceptive those green eyes were, how it felt like the woman was able to see straight through her, straight into her mind.

"They get...worse, every time," she muttered, her voice low. "Louder, more vivid."

She could feel Azriel's eyes on her as she spoke, the weight of his gaze heavy on her skin. But she didn't look at him, too focused on Cate, on the witch studying her so intently.

"The Dreamcatcher Spell," Azriel said, his voice even. "Can you cast that on her?"

Cate's eyes flicked to Azriel for a moment, a flicker of some undefinable emotion passing over her face before her gaze returned to Nesta. She took in the Shadowsinger's request, considering it for a moment.

Finally, she nodded, her voice calm and cool as she replied, "I can. Yes."

Her heart skipped a beat at Cate's confirmation, a mixture of anticipation and...fear stirring inside her. The Dreamcatcher Spell. She had no idea what that was, what it would do. But Azriel seemed to trust Cate.

"What..." she began, faltering briefly before steadying her voice. "What exactly does that spell do?"

Cate's expression was calm as she replied, "It's meant to help with vivid, recurring nightmares." Her eyes, though...her eyes seemed to hold a flicker of something else, something that made her stomach twist. "It won't help you get rid of the nightmares altogether, but it will...ease them, a little. Blurr them around the edges. Make it possible for you to go back to sleep...it blunts the emotions attached to these memories."

Her breaths came out a little faster at Cate's explanation, her heart rate increasing at the thought of...having the nightmares be eased, even a little. It sounded...too good to be true, almost.

She glanced at Azriel, whose expression was unreadable, before turning back to Cate. "And...there's no drawbacks? Nothing I should be worried about?" Cate gave her a shrug, the corners of her lips turning up in a small smile.

"Do you really think Azriel would trust me with his sister's mind if he hadn't had me cast the same spell over him dozens of times?"

His sister? He claimed her as his sister? 

Her head snapped towards him, but Azriel just inclined his head. 

Azriel trusted her The Shadowsinger, who was always so careful, who was so skilled at maintaining his secrets, trusted this...strange witch enough to let her cast spells on his mind?

"There's nothing to be worried about. The worst side effect could be a headache," Cate continued. "And that would be from an unskilled witch."

Her eyes flickered back to Cate, her mind still struggling to sort through the implications of all this. Azriel really did trust the woman and...

She wanted to believe her. Wanted to trust Cate's words, and believe that there were no dangers or side effects.

But a small part of her mind was still sceptical, wary of letting someone—a witch even—mess with her mind.

"How much does it cost?"

Cate's smile widened at her question, a hint of sharp teeth visible as she leaned back in her chair, her hands coming to rest on the armrests.

"You are wary about letting me mess with your mind, aren't you?" she said smoothly, her voice full of humour. "You're thinking, 'What's the price I'll have to pay for this?'"

She swallowed, forcing herself to keep her voice steady as she asked again, "How much?"

Cate's smile grew into a full-fledged grin as she leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"I'm not going to take your firstborn if that's what you're worried about," she said, her voice still amused. "I don't want gold or jewels or anything of the sort."

Her shoulders relaxed a fraction at Cate's words, her anxiety receding slightly at the reassurance that she wouldn't have to pay anything like those things. But she still couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more...a catch.

"Then...what?" she asked, her voice still a little wary.

Cate's expression didn't change as she leaned back in her chair, her eyes flickering over to Azriel for a moment before returning to Nesta.

"You don't need to worry about that," she finally said, her voice calm. "Azriel and I…We've...done each other a few favours, over the years.""

Her heart leapt into her throat at Cate's words, her mind swirling with more questions. Favours? Azriel had asked favours of the witch? What kinds of favours?

"That's all?" Nesta insisted, her eyes narrowing a fraction. It didn't sound like that was, in fact, all. The way Cate kept looking at Azriel, the way she said they had done each other ‘favours'...

It sounded like there was a lot more to that than she was being told.

Nesta shot Azriel a look, her eyes narrowing at his seemingly relaxed demeanour. He was being so...unfazed by all of this. So calm, while she was the apprehensive one. He really didn't seem concerned about her letting Cate cast the spell.

Nesta let out a breath, letting her eyes focus back on Cate.

She also hadn’t expected to be led into a chalk circle in the middle of Cate’s living room…or for her to light the candles with a wave of her hand…

Nesta watched in complete befuddlement, her eyes wide as Cate began to chant. The language sounded...foreign, guttural, the words flowing out in a steady rhythm.

She had expected...something different. She had no idea what, but it wasn't this.

Her breathing was uneven, her heart pounding in her chest, the sound almost drowning out the strange language.

And then it was done. 

Nesta watched as Cate finished her chant, the final words reverberating through the air like a spell. For a moment, the room was utterly quiet.

And then...nothing happened.

She stared at Cate, waiting for...something, anything. But the witch just kneeled there, peering at her through half-lidded eyes.

"That's it?" Nesta asked, her voice coming out hoarse and a little shaky. "It's...done?"

Cate gave her a small smile, not saying anything, just watching her with that intense green gaze of hers.

She shifted a little in her position, feeling strangely...naked under the woman's stare.

"That's it," Cate agreed. "What did you think was going to happen?"

She swallowed, feeling a little foolish for her question. She didn't really know what she was expecting. Something flashy, maybe. Or some...sign, some kind of indication that the spell worked.

"I don't know," she admitted, her voice a little sheepish. "I suppose I thought...it would be more dramatic, somehow."

Cate let out a chuckle at her words, the sound rich and amused. "That's what everyone expects," she said. "Some grand gesture, some great wave of magic."

She lifted her hand, a small flicker of green magic dancing over her fingertips. "The truth is," she continued, "most spells are not as interesting as people think they are."

"Most?" she repeated, her voice curious. "So some are?"

Cate's lips curled into a small, sharp smile at her question, her eyes sparkling with humour.

"Oh, some definitely can be," she said, her voice laced with amusement. "It depends on the witch, really. Some love to show off. Others...prefer the subtle approach."

"Don't let her fool you, she loves to show off," Azriel said drily.

"Only for you, shadowsinger," Cate shot back, flirtation clear in her voice. And then, somehow the last thing Nesta had expected…The last thing was for her to gain her feet, cross the room and kiss Azriel. Right on the mouth.

She could only watch in stunned silence as the kiss deepened, as the Shadowsinger's hands came up to caress Cate's face, to pull her closer.

It was so...unbelievable. So unreal. But also...so...hot.

She kinda wished Cassian was there. 

The thoughts swirled in her mind, her body heating up just from watching them. Watching Azriel lean in to kiss this dangerous, gorgeous witch with effortless grace like he'd done it a thousand times.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, the kiss ended. Azriel stepped back, his cheeks flushed and his breathing slightly uneven.

Cate, on the other hand, looked completely unflustered, her hair still perfectly arranged, her expression unruffled. She simply smiled at him, a secretive, intimate smile, before turning back to Nesta.

For a moment, all Nesta could do was sit there, utterly gobsmacked, her mouth still hanging open slightly.

Finally, she found her voice, forcing out, "Uh...How...long has that...?"

Because, judging by the casual intimacy between them, this...relationship, or whatever it was, definitely wasn’t new.

Cate let out a small laugh at her question, her eyes sparkling with humour.

The look in her eyes was almost...predatory, as she added, "We've been… friends… for a very long time, haven't we, shadowsinger?"

At her words, Azriel's cheeks darkened, his ears turning slightly red as he let out a grunt of assent.

Nesta’s eyes darted to Azriel, taking in his flushed cheeks and averted gaze, the way he shifted his weight slightly, as if uncomfortable. It was so rare to see him off-balance, so rare to see him anything but completely composed.

And it was all Cate's fault. This witch somehow had the Shadowsinger flustered and blushing like a schoolboy.

"We've had...quite the history," Cate continued, her voice smooth and velvety.

Her words were cryptic, and somehow also laced with innuendo, as if there was a whole world behind them, a world full of…memories.

Nesta couldn’t help but wonder just how...intimate their 'history' was.

"Now, if the nightmares persist, have Azriel bring you back to me. Otherwise, you should be nightmare-free for the next few months,” Cate said easily. 

She nodded numbly, her mind still trying to process the implications of all this.

Nightmare-free for the next few months. That was good. That was...incredible, actually.

But her mind was still swirling with so many other things…mainly Azriel and Cate and this...history of theirs that she knew nothing about.

"And…" she began, faltering slightly as she tried to gather her thoughts. "If I...do need to come back..."

Nesta trailed off, her eyes flickering to Azriel as she thought of what she was about to say. It felt intrusive, and yet she couldn’t help herself from asking, “What are your…rates?”

Cate raised an eyebrow at the question, tilting her head as a small smile curled her lips.

"My rates?" she repeated, amusement clear in her voice. "Well, that depends on the…service, I suppose. Some things can be done for a few gold coins."

The look in her eyes, in Azriel’s eyes, said some things couldn’t be bought.

Her mind was still trying to process the implications of that, when Cate spoke again, her voice now completely free of amusement. "But some things...can’t."

Azriel visibly stiffened at her words, his eyes flickering to the witch, a silent communication passing between the two of them.

"Some things," Cate reiterated, her eyes fixed on Azriel, "can only be paid for in... favours."

Nesta was getting the distinct feeling that she was intruding on some unspoken conversation between them, on some agreement, maybe, that she knew nothing about.

"What kind of… favours?" she asked, glancing between Azriel and Cate, her mind swimming with possibilities.

Cate smiled a sharp, predatory smile, her eyes flickering to Azriel before returning to her.

"That," she said, her voice now dripping with sweet condescension, "Is for Azriel to explain, should he choose. Though I’m sure you’ve gathered some idea of what such favours could entail by now."

Azriel rolled his eyes. Nesta stifled a small laugh at Azriel's reaction, his eye roll speaking volumes. It was clear that he was used to Cate's taunting, used to her...provocation.

"Good Night, Cate," he said drily and the witch laughed as they left the house.

"See you soon, Shadowsinger!" she sing-songed in response.

The night air outside was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the warm intimacy of the cottage.

Nesta took a deep breath, trying to clear her head off the whirlwind thoughts that had been running through it.

The kiss between Cate and Azriel, their history, their…agreements.

It was all so…unexpected. So strange and…intriguing.

"I thought you were in love with Mor," she finally settled on saying.

Azriel shot her a look at her words, a mix of irritation and...amusement, perhaps.

"I am," he replied, his voice gruff. "But Cate and I…" He paused, his expression becoming contemplative as he chose his next words carefully. "Cate and I have...history. It's...complicated."

"And Elain?" Nesta asked, crossing her arms. Whatever had been going on between Azriel and her younger sister…before it had come to a screeching halt sometimes around Winter Solstice. 

Azriel's face shuttered slightly at the mention of Elain, his jaw tightening. "Elain…" he began, his voice hoarse as he looked away. "That's…over. It was a mistake, really." His voice was rough, almost...ashamed as if the memory of his involvement with her sister pained him

"Elain has a mate," Azriel said carefully. "It has been made very clear to me that I have no right to interfere with that." The way he said these words made Nesta wonder who exactly had done that. 

There was a hint of bitterness in his voice as he spoke, a resentment that he quickly masked with a brusque "It doesn’t matter."

But, it did. It mattered to him, that much was obvious from the tightness of his expression, from the tenseness of his shoulders.

She could guess who had made that clear to him.

Feyre must have found out about it – or, perhaps, Rhysand. And they must have intervened.

She swallowed. It made her uneasy, though she understood why Azriel had…pulled back from that. Unless Elain finally outright turned Lucien down…getting in the middle of that was just begging for a fallout. 

“And you and Cate?” she asked hesitantly. 

Azriel’s expression softened slightly, his shoulders relaxing a fraction.

"Cate and I..." he repeated, his voice hoarse. "We have...a history, as she said. An agreement, you could call it."

He let out a huff of breath, almost like a sigh.

"We're...friends," he finally said, his voice firm, though there was an edge in it that suggested there was more to it than that

“Cate…Cate makes it very clear what she wants from me,” Azriel said quietly. “When we happen to be in the same place, every few years, we…spend time together. We aren’t beholden to each other in any way. She takes other lovers and so do I,” he said with a shrug. 

Azriel’s words were quiet, spoken matter-of-factly, as if he were simply stating a fact. But there was an undertone of something deeper there, hints of…feeling, maybe.

It was so rare to see Azriel openly talk about this stuff, to lay bare even a portion of his personal life.

“Cate has never been scared of me. I appreciate that.” 

He said that like he held that so precious. That little fact. 

Nesta could just stare at him. 

"It’s...nice," he said quietly. "Being with someone who doesn't...shy away. She’s much scarier than I am after all,” he quipped, a small smile on his far too handsome face. 

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Insufficient Pt. 2 | Azriel x Reader

Summary: Following the disastrous breakup between you and Azriel, Nesta invites you out to a night at Rita’s, where you then discover that you might not be as safe in Night Court as you think.

Word Count: ~ 4.3k

Warnings: Stalkings, nasty public bathrooms, alcohol, drunk people, obsessive behavior, painfully bad description of blackjack, etc

A/N: ok so I kinda switched gears with this one, I’m trying to flesh it out before introducing another man, but lmk if you liked it, or if you have any opinion on where you’d like it to go, hope you enjoy <3

Requests are open!

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Only a week had passed since the disastrous breakup between you and Azriel, and as it turns out, it was harder to get rid of him than you’d originally thought.

Beforehand, he’d always seemed so controlled and stoic, that even being one of the main problems in your relationship was that he couldn’t ever let go of control. Being in charge meant he felt safe and secure, regardless of his feelings.

He had always seemed almost above you at times, above groveling and begging in bed, above communicating his feelings and emotions normally as he just expected you to read his mind or moods despite the way he hid any kernel of emotion from his body language. However, all of that seemed to have changed.

After the breakup, you’d gone back to working in the bakery, working specifically in the back making bread with your family, so you wouldn’t have to see him when he came in, probably trying to hunt you down. The heat the ovens gave off also seemed to repel his shadows, for whatever reason, so they wouldn’t spy on you any more than they already had. Though he had come asking for you before at the counter, your family had always shut him down. You felt bad about it for a second, but thinking back, you also didn’t. He’d chosen his words, and he was only sorry because you were his mate.

You’d moved back into the family home for now, your relatives surrounding you in love and empathy, and plenty of righteous fury regarding Azriel, and even a few “I told you so.”’s from the older generations.

Nesta would come by to visit now and then, having tea with you and updating you on all the latest news and developments, if not just funny stories to bring your spirits up, such as Nyx swallowing an ancient coin that he got from Rhys’ desk, only to poop it out shiny and clean a few days later, or how Cassian got so drunk he jumped from the top of the townhouse into a nearby pool that belonged to a neighbor.

On the bad days, she would offer some quiet company, or even open up to you about similar things that happened to her in the past.

Specifically, her past relationship.

She didn’t give a name, simply the details that he was a poor man’s family, his father abused his mother, and he was no better. She only was going to marry him to let Feyre take better care of Elain, really, even if it ended up with her getting beaten by some pathetic man. And then she told you of the night she rejected him, and tried to break it off, and how she almost barely got away before he could take what wasn’t his.

You both sat in silence after that, your hand in hers.

Eventually, though, the conversation continued. You told her of the flowers that would mysteriously appear on your windowsill each morning. Neither of you knew how Azriel knew what room you occupied in your family’s home, or even how he knew your address or favorite type of flower, Ditch Lily’s, but he knew. Or the letters you received nightly, always carried by some bird of prey to your window, and would leave it there.

She snorted when you told her about the letters.

“He’s being ridiculous, seriously, even Cassian isn’t that bad. He only cares because you’re his mate, not because of who you actually are, and until he gets his shit together I wouldn’t even open them.”

She said, taking a sip of the herbal tea your mother had prepared for both of you. It was a special recipe, one that some of your distant relatives in Autumn Court had created, originally meant to relieve muscle tension and stress from overuse of magic, and even assist in alleviating burnout. You were mildly convinced that there might be some healer blood in you, because of that half of the family.

You could’ve sworn you felt a tiny tug on the bond at the mention of Azriel.

“I know, I’ve just been burning them, but he won’t leave me alone. Every shadow feels like they’re watching me now, and I just…”

You sighed, trailing off as your hand went to rub the bridge of your nose, and she gave a hum of acknowledgment, finishing your sentence for you.

“Don’t feel safe in the one place that you used to only feel safe in?”

You glanced up, eyes widening a bit. That was precisely how you felt.

“Yes, how..?”

She took another sip of her tea, glancing over to the window and looking out of it, eyes almost glazing over as some memory must’ve come to light.

“Beneath the House of Wind is the library, though I’m sure you’ve already heard of it. The priestesses stayed there, and it was always quiet, and something about it made me feel…safe, even when I was in an unfamiliar body in new surroundings, the world in the middle of a war.”

She said, and you nodded, waiting for her to go on. You knew plenty of the library beneath the House of Wind and how massive it was.

“One night, me and Feyre both descended nearly to the bottom, for what I can barely remember, and there were two twin males. Sent by Hybern, I think. They were taken out before they could do any harm, but the damage was still done. It took me quite a while to think of the library as a safe space after that.”

The glaze in her eyes faded away as she took another sip of her tea, looking more relaxed than before. She looked over at you, her eyes meeting yours.

“How did you get it back like that? A safe place, I mean.”

You then asked, and she looked away for a moment to think, a common habit of hers. One you’d noticed by now. Always noticing things, something you must’ve learned from Azriel, and as much as you hated the reminder of him, it was useful regardless.

“Changing environments helped me. During and after the war, we were always traveling a lot, which forced me to appreciate the thought of home more. Then again, home was also linked with Cassian for me.”

She said, thinking aloud before eventually speaking again.

“I’d try moving around a bit. Exercise helped me, especially travel and hiking, or breathing exercises. I could teach you a few if you’d like?”

She offered. You would be a fool to refuse any sort of advice or help from Nesta Archeron, and she’d never led you astray before, so you nodded, and she smiled brightly, clearly happy to show you.

The next few hours were spent in the backyard on whatever flat surface there was, practicing impossibly stretched that seemed like whoever made them wanted to turn you into a pretzel. Nesta managed them just fine but didn’t laugh when you fell, only helped you back up, telling you all about how when she’d first started training with Cassian, it had been just as hard for her too.

She’d even outright refused to do it the first few times.

However, after that, she showed you cool-down exercises and helped you practice breathing techniques.

“Wait, so…I hold it for how long?”

You asked, and she held back a giggle at the sheer confusion in your tone as she answered.

“Twenty seconds, but you can-“

“TWENTY??”

At that, she burst out laughing, and before you knew it you were laughing too, both of you laying back on the grass of the yard and hoping none of the seasonal bugs crawled up onto you. She finally sat up a moment later, wiping tears from her eyes as she stood and helped you up.

“Build up from five, you can start at five seconds and build up, is what I was going to say.”

She said, and you sighed.

“And I thought I was in shape before.”

You said in an amused tone, and she snorted again, only for the both of you to look over where you heard another loud snort and see Cassian standing, leaning against a large tree in the backyard. He was grinning widely as ever, his eyes full of pure glee.

“Having fun without me, ladies?”

He asked, putting a hand over his heart in a dramatic expression as he rolled his eyes, acting fatally wounded.

“Honestly, I’m hurt-“

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence before you barreled into him, giving him a tight hug that he chuckled at and returned, ruffling your hair. Nesta was soon to follow, and hugging him in a much more elegant manner than you.

When you finally separated, you spoke.

“Gods, I’ve missed you. We should let him come to tea time, too, Nesta.”

You said with a grin, and Nesta rolled her eyes playfully, squeezing his bicep. A tiny twinge of jealousy seemed to echo down the bond, as if Azriel had seen you hugging Cassian, and didn’t appreciate it. Another tug on the bond that you shut out, now hyper aware of any shadows.

“You’d be surprised at how much of a gossip he is, it’s never-ending with the Devlon-rumors.”

She said, and his expression shifted to playfully offended as he swatted at Nesta’s hand. You giggled, and Nesta glanced over at you, before gaining a thoughtful expression.

“We could do Rita’s tonight if you could make it?”

She asked, and Cassian gave a little nod as if also agreeing with this. You didn’t have any plans tonight, so why not spend a night out with your friends? It would certainly help you get your mind off of things.

“Sure, what time?”

You asked, head cocked slightly to the side. Nesta shrugged.

“Is 6 good for you?”

She asked, and you nodded in confirmation. She gave you one last smile before Cassian scooped her up to fly away.

“See you tonig-“

Her words were cut off with a little shriek as Cassian launched into the air at maximum speed just to spook her like he always did, and you giggled to yourself, heading back inside the family home. Unbeknownst to you, a shadowy figure lurked behind that tree after Cassian left, watching.

To be fair, the shifts were switched out now and then so everyone had a break, but he usually ended up babysitting. Despite his objections and complaints, he was good at it, sort of a baby-whisperer.

“Who was that pretty lady?”

He asked, a slight touch of color on his cheeks as you smirked with a knowing look.

“That was my friend, Nesta. She’s taken.”

You clarified for him, noticing the way his face fell in disappointment all too clearly before you patted your baby cousin on the head, and walked up to your temporary room. Maybe Nesta’s idea of traveling a bit and exploring different places was good. You had all of immortality ahead of you, after all. Might as well use it well.

You walked to your room, before going to the bathroom attached to it. You were more than lucky to get a room with a bathroom attached, and you knew it, since everyone bickered over who got to shower first and who had been in there too long for the normal bathroom in the hall. Stripping your clothes off, you turned the water on, letting it settle to a warm, but refreshing temperature.

You went through your entire hair routine and washed your body off, shaving and everything. Tonight was an everything shower. You wanted to look your best at Rita’s tonight, and you desperately needed a confidence boost after what Azriel had said to you.

Nearly half an hour later, your hair done all pretty, makeup on, and a pretty red dress gracing your form. You’d even painted your nails yourself, forgoing the usual stylist you went to for it.

By the time 6 had rolled around, you were almost to Rita’s, walking down the bustling streets of Velaris as the cool air blew by, the sun already beginning to set as early as it did in this season.

The moment you walked into the bar, already full of people, it only took a few seconds to spot Nesta and Cassian inside. Cassian was drinking and laughing his ass off with some other males, and doing arm wrestling that he never seemed to lose at, and Nesta was playing poker, and by the looks of it had already won a few games before based on the sly smile she wore.

You walked over and ordered your drink, nothing too strong, and decided that you could take a little time away from Nesta for now. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, considering she’d been listening to all of your problems every time she’d come over. It was probably best if you gave her a little alone time for herself.

Walking over to a table to try your hand at what looked like a boring game of blackjack, you were about to sit down when something captured your attention.

A lone shadow lurking beneath your feet.

You swallow, getting a weird feeling about it, but you simply stomped one foot down on it before sitting down, determined not to let something so small ruin this night for you. The cards were dealt, and you received a queen of spades and eight of clubs, and as the game progressed, you took risks, choosing to hit, and somehow miraculously not going over 21 the entire time. You felt the lightest tug on the bond, but ignored it.

It was mildly suspicious, considering how bad you usually were at cards. That was until you spied the same wispy shadow from earlier on the deck of cards, hiding in the normal shadow of it. It was discreetly moving cards, changing them for you to win.

Now incredibly annoyed, you excused yourself from the game and walked to the bathroom. Rita’s bathrooms weren’t extremely clean, but you just needed a place to take a breather.

You pushed the door open, not surprised by the few females in here who were either redoing their makeup or drunk out of their minds and crying. Oddly enough, though, they filed out almost as soon as you entered, some giving you off looks as you entered one of the stalls, sliding the lock closed, and sat on top of the toilet seat, pulling your knees to your chest.

Sure, things were weird tonight, but it was probably just Azriel trying to play mind games with you. He was a Spymaster. His entire job revolves around torturing information out of people and playing mental gymnastics to get what he wants from them. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was now hyper-fixated on you, determined to get you back if only to feel better about himself.

You heard the bathroom door open, barely creaking as the lightest footsteps became apparent to you. Probably another drunk woman, or someone looking to fix their makeup or outfit. Nothing out of the usual, you told yourself, even as your body began stiffening and your heart rate sped up. A lock clicked. The bathroom door.

You couldn’t get a decent whiff of the stranger, whether it be the alcohol or the reek of the bathroom in and of itself. Not daring to open up the stall or peek out, you became still as a statue.

Nearly silent footsteps.

A knob creaked, probably the sink, and water began running at its maximum speed.

Another sink turned on.

Then another.

Until all the sinks were on.

Your heart began beating faster. Why would anyone turn all the sinks on, if not to cover up the noise of something else, or someone else making loud noises?

Louder, bolder footsteps in your stall’s direction.

Glancing down beneath the door, you could see a pair of thick, black leathery boots now standing in front of it. You recognized those. How could you not?

A certain shadowsinger’s shoes. His work shoes.

You didn’t dare move, even as you heard a knock against the stall. It would’ve seemed polite in any other situation, but not here, not now.

“I know you’re in there.”

His quiet voice spoke, still filled with that tension you’d seen in his eyes the day you’d decided to finally break free of him.

He knocked again.

“I’m sorry for what I said, I shouldn’t have said that, if you would please, please, just give me another chance, I’ve been trying to talk with you for days but you were busy, and when I saw you here tonight, I thought that maybe we could talk this out-“

He said, voice filled with pleading and desperation as he rambled on. You’d never heard him express so much emotion before in his voice. It was interrupted by the bathroom door almost being opened, despite it being locked. A bang on the door, and Nesta’s muffled voice was heard through the door.

“Bullshit, I’m getting a worker..”

Azriel must’ve known he had limited time now, because he banged on the stall door louder, a bit more panicked.

“Please, just open the door. I’m sorry, just let me in. We can figure this out.”

He said, now shaking the stall door with the handle, and you didn’t dare move. Didn’t speak, didn’t do anything other than sit and pray to whatever gods you believed in. The Mother. The Cauldron. Anything. Whatever would make him go away. You had known the respectful, kind Azriel. The one that had waited centuries for Mor and not pushed anything, even when she openly went to other males and pushed him away. The one who wouldn’t push any boundary, but this Azriel…you didn’t know him.

The jingling of keys outside the bathroom door was heard, the worker Nesta must’ve called, and a frustrated sigh came from the voice outside your stall.

You could almost see it now, him angrily running his hands through his inky black hair, shadows swirling and writhing in agitation as he tried to think on how to fix this.

“You can’t hide from me forever, you’re just confused right now. I will get you back.”

He spoke finally, before the bathroom door burst open, and his presence was completely gone. You released a shaky breath, not daring to move still, even as the worker cursed and began turning all the sinks off.

“Haven’t seen it that jammed in a long time,”

She muttered, walking out eventually, you unlocked the stall door when you felt alone, only to swing it open and Nesta to pop into your vision. You almost screamed, jolting backward and slamming your head into a wall. She raised her hands in mock innocence.

“Easy, it’s just me. I figured you might be in here when I couldn’t find you, and…..”

She looked you up and down, noticing how shaken and pale you seemed, and frowned. Tilting her head sideways, she asked the obvious.

“What’s wrong with you?”

You looked all around the bathroom, finding no sign of him anywhere, no moving shadows or dark presences.

“He was here, Nesta. He kept begging me to come out and—I don’t know what he would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up.”

You said, tears welling up before falling as you began sobbing. She frowned deeper, now scowling as she pulled you against her chest, worry filling her expression.

“It’s alright, I’ll take you home.”

She said, helping walk you out of the bathroom, and as she passed by Cassian she grabbed the big Illyrian by the ear and dragged him out of the bar, outside with fresh air. Cassian immediately looked concerned, brows furrowed, but one look from Nesta was enough for him to nod grimly as his expression darkened, the two of them no doubt communicating mentally as most mates did.

He scooped the both of you up, and despite the alcohol in his system, managed a decent flight to your house. He gave you a pat on the head before Nesta walked you inside, and as soon as the two of you were in the privacy of your room, she spoke.

“Look, I’ll tell Rhys to keep an eye on him, but it’s not like Azriel will listen to anything Rhys orders him to do regarding…this. Just…be careful.”

She said in a hushed tone, and you nodded weakly.

“I can’t stay here. Not when he’s..watching and following me.”

Nesta gave a little nod, as she understood, but she still looked concerned. She was friends with Azriel, you knew as much, but even this was pushing it.

“I have family in Autumn, I could go find them.”

You suggested, and she sighed.

“You do realize he could just have one of his shadows follow you? Unless you left without telling anyone, then…”

The both of you shared a glance, and in a moment, understood what you needed to do to get away. A stalker problem wasn’t one that you thought you would have, but Azriel was obsessive and possessive, even after you’d thrown out all the flowers he’d left, and burnt all the letters you’d given him. He wouldn’t stop at anything, no matter what boundaries you tried to set.

You dragged the duffel bag out from under your bed, the same one you had used to pack your things the day you’d left and began shoving clothes into it, clothes that would suit a few days of travel in the wilderness. You nearly tore your dress off, shoving dark clothing that covered almost every bit of your skin.

If you headed through the main routes of the Court traveling system, Azriel could easily find you. The mating bond would only make it easier from there.

Nesta began helping, choosing clothes from your closet that she deemed acceptable and neatly arranging everything in the duffel bag.

“Are you going to tell your family?”

She asked quietly, and you sighed.

“My grandmother, she’d understand. She fled Autumn when she was younger, some long story about escaping a lover from the royal family.”

You said as you continued packing, and hurried down the stairs. Everyone was asleep this late, except for your grandmother for her nightly tea session. She was sitting in the living room, sipping away, and her eyes shifted to you. Despite her young form, her eyes were old and carried a wisdom you couldn’t explain.

“Grandma, I can’t explain, but-“

“You need to leave, I understand. Under the stairs, there is food. I expected this. Find your great aunt in Autumn.”

That made you pause for a moment, eyes widening, a little twinkle in her eye, and a small mischievous smirk made its way onto her face as she saw your confusion.

“I am not nearly as oblivious as you think I am, now go. Time is of the essence.”

She said, making a little waving motion, and you hurried off to find the little place under the stairs, opening the tiny area beneath it through the small cabinet door, rations were stashed there just like she’d said. You grabbed them, and hurried back up the stairs, and walking into your room you shoved it into the now-full duffle bag and zipped it up. Nesta gave you a confused look when she saw all the pre-prepared food you somehow had, but you only shrugged and she moved on.

“You’re going to need a way to travel, it’ll be thousands of miles to Autumn.”

She said, and you sighed, looping your arm through the handles of the duffle bag and throwing it over your shoulder as you hurried down the steps again, trying to be quiet for the sake of your sleeping family.

Nesta followed you out of the front door as you shut it, Cassian still standing outside, quietly watching with that same grim look on his face as you hopped your neighbor's fence, running across the mass of property they had in the backyard, straight to the small horse stables they had. You went in and opened the first one you could find, a dark-colored mare with a splotchy white stripe down her face, and some white near her hooves.

Pulling the winter coat off of her the gentlest you could, you scrambled to find a bridle that fit the mare as she stomped nervously, and you eventually found one and slipped it on, the horse not seeming eager to get the bit in its mouth, even though you managed to get it in.

Nesta caught up with you and glanced from you to the horse.

“You are crazy.”

She said though she had a slight smirk as she said it. You sighed, grabbing the reins and leading the mare outside of its stall, and you glanced over to Nesta.

“Give me a leg up?”

You asked with a small attempt at a grin, and she sighed, shaking her head in fond exasperation as she held her hands out for you to put your foot in, and you did, and she counted down from three before hoisting you up over the horse.

The large animal did not seem happy about that, either. But despite its protests, and the fact that you were riding it bareback because taking care of a bridle, saddle, stirrups and more was probably more than you could handle, you managed.

“Tell Rhys to ignore anyone complaining of a missing horse for me, will you?”

You said with that weak little half-grin, and she returned it.

“Sure, I can manage that.”

She said in an amused tone.

A moment of silence passed, before she swallowed, and spoke.

“Be careful. Don’t get yourself killed.”

She said, and you nodded, laughing softly.

“I won’t. Once I’m..safe, I’ll figure out a way to let you know. I promise.”

The inky mark of your oath spread around both of your wrists, reminding you of the promise. You didn’t know how you’d tell her without anyone else, or a specific shadowsinger catching wind of where you were, but you would figure it out.

The wind blew by, and you swallowed again.

“Well…I guess this is goodbye.”

“For now.”

She replied, and you nodded.

“For now.”

And with that, she gave a single nod and began walking back over to Cassian, who offered a dip of his head in goodbye. You gently nudged the horse with your foot, gathering up the reigns, and it jolted forward, taking any excuse to run wild after being cooped up in a stall for so long.

It hopped the fence easily, despite how you almost fell off and began bounding off before you adjusted it Southeast, where you would skirt the boundaries of Night Court, and then head to Autumn.

Into Autumn, where freedom loomed, and into Autumn, where the threat of more than just your self-discovery loomed as well.

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[callsigns-haze]

His Shadow: Chp 3

masterlist part 1 part 2

Azriel, secretly juggling his responsibilities and personal life, maintains a hidden relationship with YN, who works at a pleasure house in the Hewn City. She was his light, his love, his passion. Yet being his darkest secret is a hard role because life in the Hewn as a young female isn't the easiest as the two of you hold an even dark secret yet to be told...

Pairing: Azriel x reader

This series contains mature themes: Explicit depictions of violence, including physical and emotional. Themes of secrecy. Descriptions of difficult relationships, including strained familial and romantic dynamics. Mature sexual content. Themes of power, control, and manipulation within complex interpersonal relationships. Discussions of parenthood and the challenges associated with it, including postpartum experiences.

The first rays of dawn had barely brushed the horizon when Azriel slipped out of bed, careful not to wake YN or Knox. The apartment was still cloaked in the quiet calm of early morning, and Azriel took a moment to watch them both, his heart swelling with a fierce, protective love. YN was curled up under the blankets, her breathing soft and even, while Knox lay peacefully in his bassinet, his tiny fists curled beside his face.

Azriel felt a pang of guilt as he prepared to leave them behind, but he knew it was necessary. The inner circle had already been questioning his absences, his lateness, and as much as he wanted to stay, he had to keep up appearances. No one could know about Knox or YN. Not yet. It was too dangerous—too many uncertainties that he couldn’t risk.

He dressed quietly, pulling on his usual dark leathers, his hands moving with practiced efficiency. Before he left, he leaned down to press a soft kiss to YN’s forehead, then one to Knox’s tiny brow. “I’ll be back soon,” he whispered, though neither of them stirred.

With a final, lingering glance, he slipped out of the apartment and took to the skies, his wings carrying him swiftly toward the townhouse. The cold morning air helped clear the last remnants of sleep from his mind, and he felt more refreshed than he had in days, thanks to the night of rest YN had insisted he take. For once, he wasn’t late, and it felt like a small victory.

As he landed gracefully in the courtyard of the townhouse, Azriel was immediately greeted by the sound of laughter—high-pitched and full of mischief. He barely had time to fold his wings before a blur of movement came barrelling toward him.

“Uncle Az!”

Azriel braced himself just in time as his nine-year-old nephew, Nyx, tackled him, wrapping his small arms around Azriel’s waist with surprising strength for his age. Not a moment later, another figure joined the fray—Agnar, the seven-year-old son of Cassian and Nesta, who was no less enthusiastic in his greeting.

“Gotcha!” Agnar declared, his eyes bright with triumph as he latched onto Azriel’s leg.

Azriel couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he looked down at the two boys, their faces beaming up at him. “Looks like you two have been practicing your sneak attacks,” he said, his voice filled with affection as he ruffled Nyx’s hair.

Nyx grinned up at him, his violet eyes—the same as his father’s—glinting with pride. “We’ve been waiting for you! Mom said you might be late again, but you’re on time!”

Agnar nodded vigorously, his dark hair a wild mess that mirrored Cassian’s own unruly locks. “Yeah! Dad said he was gonna make you run laps if you were late!”

Azriel chuckled, though he could easily imagine Cassian issuing such a threat. He knelt down to their level, pulling them both into a tight hug. “Well, I’m here now. And it looks like you two have gotten stronger since the last time I saw you.”

The boys beamed at the praise, and Nyx puffed out his chest with pride. “Daddy’s been training us! He says we’ll be warriors one day, just like you and Uncle Cassian.”

Azriel’s heart warmed at the thought, though it was tinged with the bittersweet realization that Knox, too, might one day want to follow in their footsteps. But that was a future he wasn’t ready to think about just yet.

As the boys finally released him, their excitement still palpable, Azriel straightened up, his eyes scanning the courtyard. The rest of the inner circle was gathered near the entrance to the townhouse, watching the scene with smiles and knowing looks.

Rhysand stood with his arms crossed, a small, satisfied smile tugging at his lips as he observed his son’s interaction with Azriel. Feyre was beside him, her eyes soft with affection as she watched Nyx practically bounce around Azriel’s feet. Cassian and Nesta were also there, Cassian’s arm slung casually around Nesta’s shoulders, though there was a distinct glint of amusement in his hazel eyes.

“Well, well,” Cassian called out as Azriel approached, Nyx and Agnar still clinging to him like shadows. “Look who finally decided to show up on time. I was starting to think you’d forgotten what the sun looked like.”

Azriel rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile that tugged at his lips. “I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of making me run laps,” he shot back, his tone light.

Cassian barked out a laugh, clapping Azriel on the back as he joined the group. “Smart move, Shadowsinger. I’m not sure Nyx and Agnar would’ve let you get away without a proper wrestling match, though.”

“Uncle Azriel could win!” Nyx piped up, looking up at Cassian with a determined expression. “He’s the best fighter!”

Cassian grinned down at his nephew, his hazel eyes sparkling with pride. “He sure is, kiddo. But even the best need their rest.”

Nesta, who had been watching the exchange with a slight smile, narrowed her eyes playfully at Azriel. “You do look like you finally got some sleep,” she observed, though there was a hint of a question in her voice. “It’s about time.”

Azriel shrugged, keeping his expression neutral. “Had a quiet night for once,” he replied smoothly, though the truth of where he had spent his night—who he had spent it with—remained locked away behind his usual stoic demeanour.

Rhysand, ever the observant one, raised an eyebrow, though he didn’t press further. Instead, he glanced at Cassian with a smirk. “Looks like we might not need to stage that intervention after all.”

Feyre elbowed him lightly, her own smile softening as she looked at Azriel. “We were starting to worry, you know,” she said gently. “But I’m glad you’re here. On time, no less.”

Azriel nodded, feeling a pang of guilt for the concern he had caused, though he masked it well. “I’m here,” he said, his voice steady. “And I’m ready to work.”

As the group turned to head inside, Nyx and Agnar finally released their grips on Azriel, though they remained close by, chattering excitedly about their latest training sessions. Azriel listened with half an ear, his mind already shifting to the tasks ahead, though part of him remained anchored to the quiet apartment he had left behind.

No one knew about Knox. No one knew about YN. And as much as it pained him to keep that part of his life a secret, he knew it was necessary. The inner circle might have noticed that he looked better, more rested, but they didn’t—couldn’t—know the real reason why.

---

The streets of the Hewn City were as dark and foreboding as ever, their twisted architecture casting long, jagged shadows across the cobblestones. The air was thick with the scent of damp stone and the faint, acrid tang of smoke from the forges deep within the city’s belly.

YN walked with purposeful steps, her heart heavy as she navigated the maze of narrow alleys and crowded marketplaces. The city’s bustling energy had always made her uneasy, but today it felt especially suffocating.

Knox lay nestled in his buggy, a small, sturdy contraption that allowed YN to keep him close while still moving through the crowded streets. The buggy's wheels bumped over uneven cobblestones, but Knox remained calm, his tiny form swaddled in a soft blanket, his dark eyes peeking out as he watched the world pass by. YN glanced down at him every few moments, reassured by the sight of his peaceful expression.

But despite the calm her son exuded, YN couldn’t shake the discomfort gnawing at her. The Hewn City wasn’t a place she ever wanted to bring her child, but she had little choice. She needed new clothes for work, and as much as she loathed the task, it was unavoidable.

Passing by gaudy displays of shops filled with shimmering silks, lace, and jewels, YN felt a pang of discomfort. The garments on display were designed to entice and seduce, and she knew all too well their purpose. They were a far cry from the simple, comfortable clothing she preferred—clothing that allowed her to disappear into the background, unnoticed and unbothered. But here, in the heart of the Hewn City, blending in meant conforming to the expectations of the lords and ladies who ruled this shadowed realm.

As she approached one of the more discreet boutiques, the door creaked ominously behind her, announcing her arrival. The shopkeeper, a tall, willowy female with sharp features and a calculating gaze, glanced up from her counter. Her eyes flicked over YN with a cold, assessing look before they landed on Knox in the buggy. A flicker of disdain passed over the shopkeeper’s face before she smoothed it away, her expression becoming a mask of polite indifference.

“May I help you?” the shopkeeper asked, her tone clipped, though she kept her voice level.

YN lifted her chin, refusing to be cowed by the woman’s unspoken disapproval. “I need a few outfits,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “Something for tonight, and for the rest of the week.”

The shopkeeper’s eyes lingered on Knox for a moment longer, her gaze sharp with barely concealed judgment, before she nodded and gestured for YN to follow. YN pushed the buggy forward, the wheels rolling quietly over the polished stone floor as she trailed behind the woman to the back of the shop where the more provocative garments were kept.

Each piece on display was a reminder of the life YN had chosen—or rather, the life she had been forced into by circumstance. A life where her worth was measured not by her skills or her kindness, but by how well she could please those who held power over her. It was a bitter reality, one she had long since learned to endure, but it stung all the more now that Knox was in her life.

As the shopkeeper began to pull out various garments—delicate lace, rich velvets, and silks that shimmered like liquid night—YN forced herself to focus. She needed to choose quickly, to get this over with and return to the relative safety of her mother’s home. But as she sorted through the options, the weight of the stares from other patrons in the shop bore down on her.

They whispered behind their hands, their gazes flitting between her and Knox with thinly veiled judgment. To them, she was a curiosity—a young female, barely 137 years old, already burdened with a child and working in one of the most notorious pleasure houses in the Hewn City. They probably thought she had wasted her youth, thrown away her beauty for a life of servitude.

But YN had stopped caring about their judgment a long time ago. She had learned to build walls around her heart, to shut out the whispers and the stares. They didn’t know her, didn’t know the reasons behind her choices or the sacrifices she had made. They saw only what they wanted to see—a pretty face, a young mother struggling in a harsh world—and they passed their silent verdicts accordingly.

Knox let out a soft coo, and YN instinctively reached down to brush a finger against his cheek, soothing him with a gentle touch. She made her selections quickly—three outfits that would suffice for the next week, each one designed to catch the eye and hold it. The shopkeeper wrapped them in crisp black paper and handed them over with a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Thank you,” YN murmured as she paid, her tone polite but detached. She wanted nothing more than to leave this place, to escape the oppressive atmosphere that clung to every surface.

With the bundle of clothing tucked under one arm and Knox safely secured in his buggy, YN stepped back out onto the street. The air was thick and humid, a faint mist curling up from the damp stones underfoot. The stares followed her as she walked, the whispers fading into the background as she focused on her next destination—her mother’s house.

Her mother lived in one of the quieter quarters of the Hewn City, a modest home nestled between two larger, more opulent residences. It wasn’t much, but it was a refuge for YN and Knox, a place where she could leave her son without fear. Her mother had always been her anchor, the one person who had supported her through every trial, and YN knew that Knox was safe in her care.

The door creaked open as YN approached, her mother’s familiar face appearing in the dim light of the entryway. There was a warmth in her eyes as she took in the sight of YN and Knox, though there was also a shadow of concern that hadn’t been there before.

“You made it,” her mother said softly, stepping aside to let YN inside. She reached out to take Knox, her hands gentle as she lifted him from the buggy and cradled him against her chest. “How is my little warrior today?”

YN managed a small smile as she watched her mother coo over Knox, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction. “He’s doing well,” she replied, her voice softer now that she was in the safety of her mother’s home. “He’s a little restless, but nothing too bad.”

Her mother nodded, her gaze lingering on YN’s face as if searching for signs of strain. “And you? How are you holding up?”

YN hesitated, the weight of the day pressing down on her. She didn’t want to burden her mother with her worries, but the concern in her eyes was too much to ignore. “I’m managing,” she said, though it was clear that it took effort to keep her voice steady. “It’s just… hard, sometimes.”

Her mother sighed, the sound filled with a deep understanding that only years of experience could bring. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know,” she said gently. “I’m here for you, and so is that boy of yours.”

At the mention of him, YN’s heart twisted with a mixture of longing and guilt. She knew Azriel would do anything for her and Knox, but the secrets they kept weighed heavily on her soul. She had chosen this life, and she would bear the consequences, but sometimes she wished things could be different—wished that she could walk through the streets without fear, without the burden of judgment and expectation.

But those were just wishes, fleeting and impossible. What mattered now was Knox, and keeping him safe. As long as she could do that, she would endure anything.

“Thank you,” YN said softly, her eyes meeting her mother’s with gratitude. “For everything.”

Her mother smiled, though it was tinged with a sadness that mirrored YN’s own. “You’re stronger than you know, my darling,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to Knox’s brow before turning back to YN. “Now, go get some rest before your shift tonight. I’ll take care of him.”

YN nodded, her heart heavy with love and sorrow as she watched her mother carry Knox into the cozy living room, the firelight casting a warm glow over them both. Knox settled quickly in her arms, his tiny face relaxed and content.

It was a bittersweet sight, one that filled YN with both relief and an aching sense of loss. She didn’t want to leave him, didn’t want to spend another night in the pleasure house, but she had no choice. This was the life she had to lead, the sacrifices she had to make.

With one last lingering glance, YN turned and headed upstairs to the small bedroom that had once been hers. The bed was simple, the blankets neatly folded at the foot, but it was enough. She would rest, gather her strength, and then face the night ahead.

---

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden glow across the city of Velaris. It was a beautiful evening, the kind that often filled Azriel with a rare sense of peace. But tonight, as he made his way to the River House for a meeting with Rhysand and Cassian, a heavy weight pressed on his chest. He hadn’t seen YN since the night before, and the lingering exhaustion from sleepless nights with Knox gnawed at him. The secrecy, the distance—it was all starting to take its toll.

Azriel landed softly on the balcony of Rhysand’s office, his wings folding neatly behind him as he stepped inside. The familiar scent of leather-bound books and parchment greeted him, along with the rich, heady aroma of Rhysand’s preferred tea. Cassian was already there, leaning casually against the edge of Rhys’s desk, a half-empty glass of whiskey in hand. Rhysand sat behind his desk, his violet eyes sharp and assessing as they met Azriel’s.

“Az,” Rhys greeted, a hint of warmth in his voice. “Glad you could finally join us.”

Azriel gave a curt nod, ignoring the playful jab about his tardiness. “Sorry I’m late. Got caught up with some… business.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow but said nothing, his gaze lingering on Azriel for a moment before he shrugged and took another sip of his drink. “No worries. We were just getting started.”

Azriel took a seat in one of the plush chairs by the fireplace, trying to push aside his exhaustion and focus on the discussion at hand. Rhysand began outlining the latest updates on trade routes, security measures, and potential threats from the borders. Azriel listened intently, his mind absorbing the details as he always did, but there was a part of him that remained distracted.

He couldn’t stop thinking about YN. The way she had looked last night, trying to soothe Knox while surrounded by the evidence of her return to work, haunted him. He hated that she had to go back to that place so soon after giving birth, hated that he couldn’t do more to ease her burden. But the reality of their situation left him with few choices. The secrecy of their relationship was paramount—not just for her safety, but for Knox’s as well.

As the conversation in Rhysand’s office shifted to more mundane matters, Azriel’s mind began to drift. He thought of YN’s smile, of the way her eyes lit up whenever she looked at their son. He thought of the nights they spent together, hidden away from the world, and how desperately he missed those moments of peace.

“…we could use a night out,” Rhysand said suddenly, his voice pulling Azriel back to the present. “It’s been too long since we’ve all just… relaxed. Had some fun. What do you say?”

Cassian grinned, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “I’m in. There’s not much to do around here after dark, though. Any ideas?”

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his gaze sliding over to Azriel, who had remained uncharacteristically quiet. “Az? You’ve got that brooding look on your face. Any suggestions?”

Azriel hesitated for a fraction of a second, his mind racing. He knew exactly where he wanted to go—where he needed to go—but the thought of bringing Rhysand and Cassian there, of risking them seeing YN, made his heart pound with anxiety. But he also knew that if he didn’t see her tonight, it would eat at him. He needed to make sure she was all right, needed to remind her that he was there for her, even if it had to be in secret.

“There’s a place in the Hewn City,” Azriel said slowly, his voice carefully measured. “It’s not exactly like the taverns here in Velaris, but it’s… interesting. Plenty of drinks, good music. A little different from what we’re used to.”

Rhysand’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “The Hewn City? You’re serious?”

Azriel nodded, his expression unreadable. “Why not? It’s been a while since we’ve been down there, and it could be… fun.”

Cassian let out a low whistle. “Never thought I’d hear you suggest a night out in the Hewn City. But I’m not opposed to it. We could use a change of scenery.”

Rhysand studied Azriel for a moment, his violet eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to discern the reason behind the sudden suggestion. But Azriel’s face remained impassive, his shadows swirling lazily around him in a way that offered no clues.

“Alright,” Rhysand finally said, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Let’s do it. A night in the Hewn City it is. Maybe we’ll stir up some trouble.”

Azriel’s heart thudded in his chest, a mixture of anticipation and dread swirling within him. He knew it was risky, knew that being in the same room as YN while hiding their relationship would be agonizing. But he needed to see her, even if it was from a distance.

As they wrapped up their meeting and prepared to leave, Azriel couldn’t help but feel a knot of tension tightening in his gut. He had to be careful—had to make sure that neither Rhysand nor Cassian caught on to the true reason behind his suggestion. The thought of them finding out about YN and Knox, of the potential danger it could bring, was enough to make his blood run cold.

But for tonight, he would have to play his part. He would go to the Hewn City with his brothers, keep up the façade, and somehow find a way to check on YN without raising suspicion. It was a delicate balancing act, one that left him feeling more on edge than ever.

The Hewn City had never looked so alien and yet so oddly comforting. The architecture, with its dark, angular lines and oppressive shadows, felt both oppressive and familiar. Azriel led the way as he, Rhysand, and Cassian navigated through the labyrinthine streets, the trio cutting through the evening fog that clung to the air like a shroud.

The pleasure house, with its lavish façade and inviting yet illicit allure, stood in stark contrast to the grimy alleyways surrounding it. It was a place of excess and secrets, and Azriel was acutely aware of the mask he had to wear tonight. He was here to keep up appearances, to ensure that his personal life remained hidden while still satisfying his need to see YN.

As they entered the pleasure house, the atmosphere was immediately different—louder, more vibrant. The interior was opulent, with rich fabrics draped across the walls, low lighting casting a sultry glow, and the murmurs of patrons mingling with the strains of live music. Azriel’s heart quickened as he scanned the room, searching for a glimpse of YN.

Rhysand and Cassian were distracted by the surroundings, their eyes taking in the provocative displays and the carefully orchestrated sensuality of the environment. Azriel, however, remained focused, his gaze fixed on the server who moved gracefully through the room. It took a moment for him to catch sight of her, but when he did, his breath caught in his throat.

YN was dressed in the attire of the pleasure house—an outfit that accentuated her features while still remaining tantalizingly understated. The black satin cowl neck crop top, dark navy jewel-encrusted pants, and black heel sock boots all combined to create an appearance that was both alluring and vulnerable. She was carrying a tray of drinks, her movements fluid and practiced, her eyes scanning the room with a practiced detachment.

Azriel’s pulse quickened as he approached her, forcing himself to remain calm. He was here on official business, after all. The act he would need to maintain was a delicate one. Rhysand and Cassian followed closely behind, their curiosity piqued by the unusual location.

When YN finally approached their booth, her gaze flicked briefly over Azriel before she began her routine of serving the drinks. It was only when she neared their table that her eyes finally locked with his. Her expression didn’t change immediately; it remained a practiced mask of professionalism. But there was a brief, flickering moment of recognition that passed between them—a silent exchange of emotions that spoke volumes in an instant.

“Good evening,” YN said, her voice smooth and polite as she set down the drinks. “Can I get you anything else?”

Azriel cleared his throat, forcing himself into the role he had chosen. “This is YN,” he said, gesturing to her with a casual air. “When I’m here for business, she usually serves me.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Well, it’s certainly a different experience than what we’re used to. Do you have any recommendations, YN?”

YN offered a polite smile, her eyes never lingering too long on Azriel. “It depends on what you’re in the mood for. The house special is always a good choice. It’s popular for a reason.”

Cassian leaned back in his seat, his gaze wandering over the surroundings. “Sounds intriguing. I think we’ll take you up on that.”

As YN moved away to fulfill their order, Azriel watched her closely, noting how effortlessly she slipped back into her role. The act she was playing was flawless—she was all business, her demeanour cool and detached, just as it needed to be. But he could see the strain in her eyes, the subtle tension in her posture. It was a reminder of the sacrifices they both had to make to keep their relationship hidden.

When she returned with the drinks, Azriel allowed himself a moment of indulgence. “So, YN,” he said, turning his attention back to her. “I haven’t seen you around much lately. Where have you been?”

YN’s smile didn’t waver as she set the drinks on the table. “I’ve been here, just covering different shifts. We all rotate through different times, so you might have missed me.”

Azriel nodded, maintaining the pretence of casual curiosity. “Ah, I see. Well, it’s good to see you again.”

YN inclined her head slightly, her gaze flicking over to him with a fleeting softness before she turned her attention back to Rhysand and Cassian. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Rhysand shook his head, his attention momentarily diverted by the lively atmosphere around them. “No, we’re good for now, thanks.”

As YN moved away to attend to other patrons, Azriel felt a pang of longing. The way she carried herself, the way she interacted with him while keeping her professional mask firmly in place—it was a testament to the life they had to lead. It was a life of secrecy and sacrifice, one that left him both aching for her and filled with a deep, unspoken pride.

The evening wore on, and the pleasure house buzzed with activity. The soft music mingled with the murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses, creating a lively, almost intoxicating atmosphere. Azriel, Rhysand, and Cassian continued their evening, each conversation and interaction designed to blend in seamlessly with the environment. But as the night progressed, Azriel found himself increasingly distracted by YN’s presence.

He had noticed her earlier, her graceful movements now tinged with a weariness that seemed to grow with each passing hour. She was doing her best to maintain her professional demeanour, but the exhaustion was evident in the slight droop of her shoulders and the faint shadow beneath her eyes.

Azriel felt a pang of sympathy as he watched her from across the room. The sight of her working so hard, so tirelessly, while still trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy, tugged at his heart. He needed to see her up close, to make sure she was alright.

When YN’s shift brought her back to their booth, Azriel decided it was time to act. He raised a hand, catching her attention with a nod. “YN, can you come over here for a moment?”

YN approached their table, her steps steady but her fatigue evident. She offered a polite smile as she reached their booth. “Yes? Is there something you need?”

Azriel’s eyes softened with genuine concern as he looked at her. “I just wanted to check in. You seem a bit tired. How’s the shift been?”

YN glanced around, making sure there were no eavesdroppers. She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s been… eventful. You wouldn’t believe the drama tonight.”

Rhysand and Cassian exchanged curious glances, their attention piqued by the conversation. Azriel’s lips curled into a teasing smile. “Oh? Do tell. I’m sure we could use some entertainment.”

YN sighed, her expression lightening slightly as she began to recount the day’s events. “Well, apparently there’s been a bit of a scandal with the staff. Some of the girls got caught up with this new money group in the area—supposedly they’re making quite a stir. It’s causing quite a bit of gossip.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “A money group? Sounds like there’s more to it than just a bit of gossip.”

YN nodded, her smile a mix of amusement and frustration. “Oh, there is. They’re making a lot of waves, and not in a good way. The staff’s been buzzing about it all week, and it’s starting to affect our business.”

Azriel chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and affection. “It sounds like you’ve had your hands full. Maybe you need a break.”

YN’s smile widened, but there was a hint of exhaustion still lingering in her eyes. “Maybe. But we all have to pull our weight, right?”

Rhysand and Cassian watched the exchange with growing interest. The playful banter between Azriel and YN was evident, and it was clear that there was more to their relationship than met the eye. Rhysand’s gaze flicked between them, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully, while Cassian’s curiosity was piqued.

Azriel continued, his tone softening. “How have you been otherwise? It’s been a while since I last saw you.”

YN hesitated for a moment before responding, her voice steady but her eyes betraying a hint of sadness. “I was actually on maternity leave. Just came back tonight. My babe is only two weeks old, so it’s been a bit hectic.”

Azriel’s heart ached at the mention of their son. He wanted to reach out, to comfort her, but he knew he had to keep up the pretence. “I’m sure it’s been a challenge. How’s everything at home?”

YN’s smile was faint but genuine. “It’s manageable. I’ve been living with my boyfriend, and he’s been helping out a lot. It’s just a lot to juggle right now.”

Rhysand’s curiosity was piqued by the mention of YN’s boyfriend, but he remained polite, offering a nod. “It sounds like you have your hands full. But I’m glad you’re back and that you’re managing.”

Cassian leaned forward, his eyes narrowing with playful suspicion. “So, you’re telling me you’ve got a little one and a boyfriend? And you still manage to look this good?”

YN’s cheeks flushed slightly, though she kept her composure. “Well, it’s not always easy, but you make do. Besides, a bit of distraction can be helpful.”

Azriel watched her, a mix of pride and longing in his eyes. The way she handled the conversation, the ease with which she maintained the façade—it was both impressive and heart-wrenching. He wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms, to offer her the comfort and support she needed, but the world they lived in demanded otherwise.

As YN prepared to move on to her next table, Azriel reached out, lightly touching her hand. “Take care of yourself, okay? We’ll catch up soon.”

YN’s eyes softened, a brief flicker of something deeper passing between them before she nodded. “I will. Thank you.”

As YN moved away, Azriel forced himself to turn his attention back to Rhysand and Cassian. The playful banter and the hidden exchanges with YN had left him feeling both elated and frustrated. He had managed to keep their relationship under wraps, but the curiosity of his friends was a persistent challenge.

Rhysand, leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful expression, broke the silence. “So, Az. How long have you been gathering information from this place? It seems like you’ve got a regular routine going here.”

Cassian nodded, his gaze sharp and inquisitive. “Yeah, you mentioned that YN usually serves you when you’re here. Is this part of your regular intel-gathering operations, or is there something specific that brought you here tonight?”

Azriel took a sip of his drink, buying himself a moment to carefully construct his response. He had to maintain the guise of a casual informant while keeping the true nature of his visits hidden.

“It’s been a while,” Azriel said, his tone nonchalant. “I’ve been coming here for a few months now, usually just to pick up some intelligence on local movements and activities. The Hewn City is a hub for a lot of different groups, and you never know what you might overhear.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Really? I didn’t realize it was such a hotspot for information. And you’ve been coming here regularly for several months?”

Azriel nodded, his expression remaining carefully neutral. “Yes, it’s been useful. There are always different factions and rumours circulating in places like this. It’s a good spot for gathering intel on various interests and keeping tabs on potential threats.”

Cassian’s gaze lingered on Azriel, a hint of scepticism in his eyes. “That’s quite the commitment. I would have thought it was more of a hit-and-miss kind of situation.”

Azriel offered a small, practiced smile. “It’s more about building relationships and understanding the dynamics at play. Sometimes you need to spend time in a place to get a real sense of what’s happening.”

Rhysand chuckled softly, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and curiosity. “Well, I suppose it makes sense. You’ve always had a knack for finding out the details others might miss.”

Cassian’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “And you’ve never had any issues with your cover? It seems like you’ve managed to keep a low profile.”

Azriel shrugged, his demeanour relaxed. “It helps to blend in. As long as you know how to keep your ears open and your presence unobtrusive, you can gather quite a bit of information without drawing too much attention.”

Rhysand leaned forward, his gaze steady as he studied Azriel. “You seem quite at ease with the process. But I have to ask—why this place in particular? Is there something specific you’re looking for?”

Azriel took another sip of his drink, choosing his words with care. “Sometimes the most valuable information comes from the most unexpected sources. The Hewn City is a melting pot of various interests and players. It’s a good place to keep an eye on things.”

Rhysand and Cassian exchanged a glance, their curiosity clearly still piqued. But Azriel’s calm demeanour and plausible explanations seemed to satisfy their immediate questions. They turned their attention back to the lively environment around them, their focus shifting to the various aspects of the pleasure house’s offerings.

The music had softened to a gentle background hum, and the once bustling crowd had thinned to a few lingering patrons. Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel remained seated in their booth, enjoying the last of their drinks while keeping an eye on the winding down process.

Azriel’s gaze frequently drifted to YN, who was busy tidying up the tables and ensuring that everything was in order for the next day. The exhaustion from her shift was evident in her movements, but she continued with a practiced efficiency. Her tiredness was a stark contrast to the vibrant energy she had shown earlier in the evening.

Harvey, the flamboyant bartender who had become something of a fixture in the pleasure house, was the last to join YN in the clean-up effort. His presence was unmistakable—his bright, eclectic attire and his easy-going demeanour made him stand out in any crowd. As he wiped down the bar, he exchanged light-hearted banter with YN, their camaraderie apparent in their interactions.

Azriel, Rhysand, and Cassian finished their drinks and prepared to leave. The pleasure house was quieter now, the ambiance shifting from its earlier, more chaotic energy to a more subdued and intimate setting. The staff moved with practiced ease, their movements synchronized as they prepared to close for the night.

As the trio of males rose from their seats, Azriel cast a final glance towards YN and Harvey. The two of them were engaged in a conversation that seemed both relaxed and comforting, a brief respite from the demands of the night. Harvey’s animated gestures and YN’s soft laughter created a small bubble of warmth amidst the fading chaos.

“Looks like YN and Harvey are the last ones here,” Rhysand remarked, his eyes following Azriel’s gaze. “They’re certainly putting in the extra effort.”

Cassian grinned, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “I’m surprised they’re still at it. They must be exhausted.”

Azriel nodded, a hint of concern in his eyes. “Yeah, they’ve had a long night. I’ll make sure they’re all right before we leave.”

As Rhysand and Cassian made their way towards the exit, Azriel lingered for a moment, watching YN and Harvey as they finished up. He walked over to where they were working, his presence catching YN’s attention.

“YN,” Azriel called softly, making his way over to the bar area. “Harvey.”

YN looked up, her expression shifting to a tired but genuine smile. “Azriel. I didn’t realize you were still here.”

Azriel nodded, glancing around the almost empty room. “I thought I’d check in before we head out. You both look like you’re working hard.”

Harvey, who had been busy restocking the bar, looked up with a mischievous grin. “We’re just wrapping up. You know, keeping things in order for the next night of revelry.”

YN gave Harvey a playful nudge. “And Harvey’s making sure everything is sparkling clean. He has a bit of an obsession with the bar area.”

Harvey rolled his eyes theatrically, his smile never wavering. “Someone has to keep this place from looking like a disaster zone.”

Azriel chuckled softly, his gaze settling back on YN. “I appreciate the hard work. I know it’s been a long night.”

YN’s smile softened, though the fatigue was evident in her eyes. “It’s all part of the job. And besides, Harvey’s great company.”

Harvey gave a theatrical bow, a playful glint in his eyes. “Why, thank you, my dear. I do try to be entertaining.”

Azriel took a moment to watch their interaction, a mixture of affection and concern in his expression. He wanted to ensure that YN knew she had his support, even if it had to be expressed in subtle ways.

“Do you need any help finishing up?” Azriel offered, his tone genuine. “I don’t mind staying a bit longer if it means making things easier.”

YN shook her head, though her smile was grateful. “No need, Azriel. We’ve got it covered. But thank you.”

Harvey glanced at Azriel with a teasing smirk. “Besides, we wouldn’t want to keep you from your glamorous night out. I’m sure the high lord and lord of bloodshed are waiting.”

Azriel nodded, his expression reflecting a mix of reluctance and understanding. “Alright. I’ll leave you to it then.”

As Azriel turned to leave, he paused, offering one last glance at YN and Harvey. The sight of them working together, the easy camaraderie between them, was a reminder of the world YN inhabited—a world that he could only access in fleeting moments.

“Goodnight, YN. Harvey,” Azriel said, his voice soft but sincere. “Take care.”

YN and Harvey both waved as Azriel headed towards the exit. The night had been a complex mix of professional duties and personal longing, and as he stepped out into the cool night air, he carried with him the weight of the secrets he had to keep and the brief, stolen moments of connection he had managed to share.

As he flew back to Velaris with Rhysand and Cassian, Azriel couldn’t help but reflect on the evening’s events. The pleasure house had provided both a necessary diversion and a poignant reminder of the delicate balance he had to maintain. The night was a testament to the complexities of his life—a life divided between duty and desire, between the public eye and the hidden realms of his heart.

Let me know if you'd wish to be tagged! Comments and reblogs are really appreciated!

[readychilledwine]

Pieces of You - Prologue

Summary - After losing Feyre to childbirth, Rhysand finds himself leaning on one of her friends much more than he'd ever expected

Warnings - death, loss of a mate, babies, drug induced sleep

A/N - this one is going to hurt before it feels good, friends. It's gonna hurt a lot. Based on these little pictures I found in a tiktok

Silence had fallen over the house.

There wasn't a single voice whispering, no bells to ring in the celebration of Nyx's birth, no loud pops from corks of champagne echoing in the air. 

Just silence. 

Madja stood in the doorway, a small bundle of what should have been joy wrapped in her arms. Rhys was sat on the steps, shoulders shaking with anger and sadness. 

The Cauldron had refused Nesta's offer. It had instead mocked them, changing Nesta's womb, forcing her to keep the powers that plagued her, and breaking the death bargain. 

It forced him to live while his mate died, promising there were no second chances this time. No magic being to bring her back again. This time was for good. It was forever. Rhysand knew life could be a bitter thing, but he did not expect death to be as cruel. 

“High lord,” Madja approached slowly. “We need to decide how we are feeding Nyx. The babe needs to eat.”

Azriel appeared besides Rhys, kneeling down next to him as he stared off the balcony. “I.. I don't know,” he finally answered. “We hadn't talked about it. She figured she would just be here to do it.” Azriel squeezed Rhysand's shoulder, handing him a vial with blue liquid in it. “We will have to find a wet nurse. Though, I am unsure how you will find one this last minute.”

“Y/n,” Azriel said softly. “She just had a babe, didn't she?” Madja nodded. “Can she just feed them both?”

“it is possible. Y/n does over produce already and has been storing milk. Newborns need to be fed almost hourly, though, shadowsinger. She'd have to have them both here, or Nyx will have to stay with her."

Rhys just shrugged, uncorking the vial and shooting back the contents. “I really don't care about that aspect, Madja. The house is huge, and I'm alone now anyway. What's the point in caring? She can decide." Azriel helped him stand as the sleeping drought started to work and supported his brother into a bedroom. 

He reappeared moments later. “I'll ask her. I know you don't want to burden her.” He reached for Nyx, admiring his perfect face again. “She's a sweet girl, quiet, good listener. She might be good for both of them while he heals.”

Madja just nodded. “Just remember that two grieving widowers will need a village to care for two newborns.”

The small cottage you lived in was quiet. You were leaned against the couch, sitting in the floor with your head laid back. Caring for your daughter alone was a chore, and you knew you should have been sleeping, but something was keeping you awake. 

A gentle knock in the door had you cringing, praying Morwenna wouldn't wake up. You moved to the door quickly, not noticing the shadow whisping around your feet and opening it to a desperate shadowsinger. “Az?” You moved for him to come in, stomach dropping at the sight of the babe in his arms. “Please tell me you being here with that sweet little thing doesn't mean what I think it does.”

Azriel just looked up, tears finally falling. “He hasn't ate yet,” your heart shattered at the unneeded confirmation. “Please, help us.”

You took the Illyrian babe instantly, taking your shirt off without question to offer him food. Azriel's shoulders fell in relief as his little cheeks began to move, a small hand and fingers reaching to your pinky. 

The two of you sat in heavy silence again. Azriel processing what had all happened that day, and you, aching for a male you hardly knew, and mourning the female that had become a close friend. 

You almost laughed at how cruel life could be. To lose your mate before childbirth, and then to lose your friend, the female who held your hand during labor, only a week later.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @daughterofthemoons-stuff

Rhys taglist:

@tothestarsandwhateverend @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avajustreads

Pieces of You Taglist:

@dr4g0ngirl

[starsxblazing]

Die Of A Broken Heart

Ask and you shall receive. Here is some pure heartbreaking angst to feed us masochists.

Summary: Azriel goes on a mission that should have been simple only for it to end in one of the worst ways possible.

Azriel x Reader

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? You just got back last night and you’re exhausted.”

You watched your husband as he continued to get ready for his mission. It wasn’t really a mission at all unless one thought of the Hewn City that way. There were many that would call it such but to each their own. Azriel stopped his task of lacing his buckles together to give you a smile but when that didn’t seem to satisfy you, he pulled you into his arms in a tight embrace. 

“As soon as Cassian and I return, you will have me all to yourself,” he assured gently, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Try not to worry so much, love.”

You both admired and hated his work ethic. He was so loving, loyal, and devoted that he spread himself so thin but he was slowly making progress. Very, very slow progress but progress, nonetheless. The two of you had only been married for a few decades and it was as blissful as it could possibly be.

There had been an internal war within you when he had first started courting you. It was no secret that he wanted a mate, that all of the males wanted a mate. You had been hesitant in giving your heart to him because you knew that he had someone wonderful out there that the Mother had made just for him. 

What you hadn’t expected was a one sided mating bond. You had known since the night of your wedding but hadn’t been able to bring yourself to tell him. Azriel was always so loving and devoted to you that you didn’t have to question him. He assured you more times than you could count that even if his mate did miraculously appear, that he would still choose you. Since you knew that he was your mate, all of those worries had left your mind.

“But you still have to train your new spy for Spring Court,” you huffed, earning a quiet chuckle from him as he continued preparing.

“I have already told Rhys that it will have to wait.” He shot you a playful grin. “You are my priority. The female will still be there in another two weeks.”

“You, the amazing spymaster, are going to take an entire two weeks off?” you asked skeptically. “You are going to go insane with that much time off of work.”

“Actually,” he began, his voice dropping into that delicious seductiveness while he pushed you back into the wall. “I had every intention of keeping myself occupied in much more pleasurable ways.”

The hard length of him pressed into you, earning him a playful giggle. He simply pulled you into a deep kiss that left you both breathless only to do it again before he finally left with one last ‘I love you.’ You always hated to watch him go but knowing that he would be back later that night made it better. It also helped that you had a day planned with Nesta at the bookstore. 

“Did Cassian let anything slip about what they’re supposed to be doing?” you asked the female as you walked down the street.

“He was able to withstand my questioning, surprisingly,” Nesta huffed. “I’m sure it’s not a big deal.”

“Probably not,” you agreed.

You simply followed your friend throughout the stores, grabbing a few items for yourself before making your way to a nearby cafe. Nesta was relentless in getting you back into training so to appease her, you agreed. It was mostly because you missed the three females that you had made friends with but also because it would keep your mind busy once Azriel left again to train his new spy.

It was hours past time when your husband had promised that he would be home and it had you pacing a hole in the floor of your sitting room. This was the absolute worst part of being committed to someone with such an important job. Each time he was away from you, you prayed for his safety. That was exactly why you fell into a panicked frenzy when Rhys entered your mind to let you know that you were needed at Madja’s.

“What happened?” you demanded breathlessly, bursting into one of the healing rooms only to see a grumbling Azriel sitting up in the bed and holding his head.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” Cassian waved it off dismissively despite the serious worry in his eyes. “He just took a hit to the head.”

“The culprit will have a fitting punishment,” Rhys assured when you went to open your mouth. “Take him home and watch over him.”

And so you did. It didn’t help that your husband was grumpier than usual, fussing and ensuring you that he could take care of himself. You weren’t convinced due to his slight stumble and how he continued to hold his bandage wrapped head. He all but fell face first into the bed and there was no way that you could leave him alone.

You awoke the next morning only to find Azriel’s side of the bed cold. It caused a deep frown to form on your face because he should be there. He was injured on top of promising to stay home. The very least that you had expected was for him to still be cuddled up to you since the sun could barely be seen in the sky. Even after searching the entire house, he was nowhere to be seen and not even his scent lingered in the air. 

In a sigh of defeat, you made your way to the House of Wind in hopes to find some answers. It was also empty up until you made it up to the training ring. Cassian, Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn were already there and beginning their warmups for the session.

“Finally come back to join us?” Cassian asked in a teasing voice but his eyes were wary.

“I was actually hoping to find my husband.” You almost tripped over the last word, almost revealing the secret that nobody else knew. “He promised that he would be home for the next two weeks.”

“He said something came up and training that new female was extremely important.” 

You eyed Cassian skeptically, noting that the general appeared uneasy with the topic of conversation. Something wasn’t right and your hand instinctively rubbed against your heart as if the bond was trying to tell you something. It was always there, always lingering and glowing brightly within you but it was dim today. Nesta, who seemed extremely in tune with you, pulled you into the ring with them, insisting that training would help but that dim light wouldn’t change your worry. There was something wrong if the strange new tug was any indication of it.

With nothing better to do, you relented and after warmups, you had a sword in hand. All three females had been training hard and it was a task to keep up with the high spirited Gwyn. You had always loved the priestess and the upbeat, determined energy that always buzzed around her.

You felt it just as soon as you blocked Gwyn’s attack. There was pain that tugged at your heart that caused you to stumble, earning a nice cut on your arm as you hit your knees. You were certain that a scream of pain, one that didn’t come from the new physical injury, left you but you were unaware of anything but the pain in your chest. It was sharp, as if a thousand daggers were piercing you all at once. 

A blinding heat then enveloped that same pain that had your head swimming. The bond that was there slowly dimmed further and you could almost see it. You could almost see the cord rip and shred, the feeling going straight into your chest. The burning paired with the sharpness continued until you could feel it through every fibre of your being where it settled into your very soul. It raged with an intensity that you knew had never been experienced by the world before.

Your heart stopped just as the last pieces of the bond shredded and broke before the blissful darkness took you.

Even in unconsciousness the pain didn’t stop. It felt like being tied to a spit and being turned over an open, blazing fire. The extreme heat didn’t stop and even after your mind began to clear, you were unable to open your eyes. It felt like you were dying from the inside out but muffled voices hit your ears, thankfully giving you something else to focus on.

“So you are telling me that your new spy is your mate?”

Rhys. That voice that was unmistakable and laced with frustration.

“It just happened, Rhys.”

Your husband. The one that was your mate that somehow had another mate. You searched inside of you and all that was left of the one sided bond were shredding sharp threads blowing in an openness of an unfamiliar void. Your mind couldn’t wrap around what was happening. You couldn’t understand.

“What do you plan to do?”

“I don’t know.”

Those three whispered words felt like another knife to the heart, continuing to slice into your already shredded soul.

“What do you mean you don’t know? You have a wife that loves you! A wife that you have been happily in love with for decades!”

The quiet words of the High Lord were nearly a growl, obviously angry with his spymaster.

“She’s my mate, Rhys!” 

Your husband was attempting to defend himself as if the mating bond had finally taken over him completely.

“You just met this female. She is supposed to be your apprentice. Your student. Nothing more.”

Azriel truly had left you, while he was injured, only to find his mate. You wanted to cry but the pain, the heat, kept you from doing anything. 

“Well that’s not what happened.” 

“What is more, your wife fell in training and has been unconscious for days while in a pain that none of us can figure out while you have refused to come back because you have been with your mate!”

It was all that you needed to hear. Your worst fears that had been present before the bond had happened. He had been spending time with his mate all while you had been unconscious and in immense pain and hadn’t bothered to answer his High Lord’s attempts to reach him. You must have finally been able to move because you heard quick footsteps just before a familiar set of hands were wrapped around yours.

“Y/n.” Azriel’s pleading voice barely registered in your mind. “Please look at me.”

It felt wrong to do so but you did. You loved him with all that you were and it was now your downfall. There was such worry on his face and his eyes went wide at whatever he found or didn’t find on your face. Even through the blazing haze, you barely registered the deep concern and made you wondered why he cared all of a sudden.

“Are you alright?” It was Rhysand’s voice this time as he pushed the shadowsinger away from you. “How can I help?”

“I’ll be fine,” you rasped, your throat raw as if you had been screaming.

“You have been screaming,” Rhys confirmed in a gentle but quiet voice. “Let me help you.”

A growl came from behind you but you focused on those violet eyes that made you feel just the tiniest bit better.

“I just need my bed and some time.”

He nodded, seemingly determined to give you whatever you wanted.

It took two weeks for you to pull yourself together enough to present yourself somewhat normally. Azriel had stayed with you for a week before leaving for his next mission, leaving you at the House with Nesta and Cassian. You knew that it wasn’t a mission. They didn’t know that you had overheard the conversation and knew that your husband had a mate that wasn’t you. 

By the time that the third week had passed, Azriel came into your room and watched you cautiously. It had taken you that long since the bond broke to act like your normal self but the pain, the burning of your soul never stopped. The broken threads cut into you over and over with no way to stop it. You were sure that you were going mad and you only allowed yourself to succumb to it whenever you knew that you would be alone for a while.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” He sat on the edge of the bed but didn’t move closer. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” you asked as casually as you could even though a piece of you knew what was coming.

“I found my mate,” he whispered.

“Oh.”

This time it came out as a broken whisper, your fear only fueling the flame inside of you. Your heart picked up a rapid pace in your chest and you were sure that it was going to explode if it didn’t stop.

“I need-” He swallowed hard, his eyes lining with tears. “I need to at least get to know her.”

“You promised me, Azriel,” you croaked. “Please.”

“Just give me three weeks, y/n. Please.”

“Az…” Your voice trailed off and you realized that there was no point in arguing. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

Despite his voice sounding thick and desperate, he simply brushed a light kiss against your lips. Your heart continued to race in panic and that pain raged blindingly until it was dark once again.

Azriel felt horrible for leaving you because he had promised you for decades that he would never leave you. He promised that he would love you and only you for the rest of eternity and even though that would always be true, he had to be sure. No sooner than he was in the sky after leaping off of the balcony on the House of Wind, a pair of hands were around him and he was suddenly in his dungeon.

“What the hell, Rhysand?” he growled, frustrated and annoyed and Cassian and the two fae in the chairs barely caught his eye.

“I came back here with Cassian to continue the work that you should have done after being attacked and learned a great deal of information.”

“Like what?” he snapped, his feet shifting while he debated on winnowing away.

“Don’t. Even. Think. About. It.” the High Lord growled. “As it turns out, that blast of power that sent you flying into the wall and causing your concussion cursed you.”

That caused him a pause and he eyed the two males that he had met with.

“Your ‘mating bond’ is fake.”

“But-”

“Tell him,” Rhysand ordered the males, refusing to let him speak.

“The female- your wife- is your mate,” one bit out. “You are holding us back in this horrid place so we cursed you to be chained to another female so that you would move courts.”

Because he would. If his mate didn’t want to live in Night Court, he would follow her. He looked between his brothers who didn’t appear to have the first bit of sympathy for him. Rhysand obviously knew that he had just left you for his mate and didn’t care about his wishes any longer.

In his desperation to get back to you, to right his wrong and beg for your forgiveness, he began his methods. It didn’t take much to get them to break and the curse cured. In an instant, he no longer felt that fake mating bond but when he looked to his High Lord, he was pale and frozen in place.

“Let’s go.”

Rhysand grabbed both him and Cassian, winnowing them back into the House. They sprinted towards your room only to find Madja hovering over you, her face pale and grave when she looked at them.

“What’s happening?” he asked in a panic, running to your side and pulling your freezing cold hand into his.

“She’s dying.” Madja’s voice was just as grave as her face. “Her body is shutting down.”

“Y/n!” Azriel yelled, shaking you as much as he dared to try to get you to open your eyes.

Madja’s hand was over your heart, looking as if she was focusing extra hard on it.

“Her heart is beating too fast,” the female murmured. “I have no way to slow it.”

Panic overtook him entirely and he continued to shake you in desperation. Your lips had turned blue and there was no color to your face even though your chest rose and fell in an unhealthy rhythm. Finally, finally, you opened your eyes. There was no life there and the quick flicker of recognition was all that it took. A dim light simmered within him, a light wrapped around a simple thread that should have been tied to you. 

He followed it to the end only to find an endless void. That quick flicker of remembering him only lasted a second before your eyes closed again. 

Just as you closed your eyes and your chest came to a stop, the thin thread within him shredded apart.

He thought he heard himself scream, a scream of desperation and pain, as he felt like he had been set on fire. It was a heat that far surpassed the flames that had ruined the hands that you loved so much and he didn’t know if he could handle it. His wife, his mate, his true mate was gone and left shattered threads blowing in a new void in its wake. He couldn’t breathe as it felt like his heart was being shredded into pieces and it picked up its pace in his chest. It felt like he was about to implode.

And as the darkness pulled him closer, he realized what had been your fate and what would now be his. He realized what it was like to die of a broken heart.

Tag List:

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[really-fanny-longbottom]

tears in pages

summary: because no matter how much time passes, cassian will never forget his first love.

warnings: angst/mentions of arranged marriage, smut, heartbreak, death, grieving and injuries

pairings: cassian x reader

words: 8k (i think?)

love. 

a word.

four letters. 

one feeling. 

infinite meanings. 

love is such a strange feeling that it can vary in so many ways. 

it can provoke so many emotions at the same time, both negative and positive. 

it can make us dream, smile, celebrate. 

it can make us suffer, cry, grieve. 

how can such a small word have such an impactful meaning? 

those who manage to have it once in their lives are considered lucky, those who find it more than once are considered blessed.

but that was not the case with cassian. 

having grown up as he did, in a place surrounded by mountains and by males who despised him, with the words 'bastard' and 'brute' used as greetings, he never imagined himself capable of witnessing such a feeling. 

how could he, when all his life he had to fight for everything, even for the bare minimum?

fortunately, cassian's life took a happy turn, when a few years later, the nose of a young heir with violet eyes and black hair met his fist. 

followed by a quiet and shy boy who had small shadows as companions. 

and a brown-eyed blonde with a great obsession for red clothes and an incredible sense of humor. 

ending with a silver-eyed creature with the age of a god and the feeding habits of a vampire. 

but that was never the kind of love that cassian felt unworthy of having. 

not the kind of love that is meant for family or that can be shared between friends. 

but the love that is reserved for that special person who appears in your life and makes you wonder how you could have lived until that moment without them. 

of the love that makes your stomach tingle with butterflies, of the blushing cheeks that make you look like a certain vegetable and of the smile that can light up the sky on the darkest night.

cassian, who thought he was nothing in life, had a big surprise when he discovered that he was actually blessed.

the question that many ask and few know the answer to: who was the lucky one to first occupy the heart of the general of the night court?

for those who don't know him, they say that nesta archeron is his first love — the mating bond that revealed itself between the two serving as proof of such a statement.

for those who know him a little better, their answers would be tanwyn — the fearless valkyrie who lost her life in the war.

both answers are incorrect.

cassian's journey in love did not begin with either of them.

with only his family as witnesses to the true answer, as they too were blessed to have cassian's first love as a friend — if not a family member.

the story begins with a human girl with a heart bigger than the world, a smile sweeter than honey and eyes so blue they could rival the sea. 

a human girl who was running away from a life she didn't want and whose escape led her to a certain general.

a human girl who stole everyone's heart, with her first victim being cassian's heart. 

her name was y/n. 

•••

he has a mate.

he had never imagined himself in this position.

cassian still didn't know how to process this new information.

he has another chance at love, but not with the person his heart still beats for.

the general found refuge in his room, where he could better organize his thoughts.

one thing he knew — he liked nesta. but loving her? that felt like a betrayal. 

cassian unrolled the paper he held in his hands. although the paper already showed signs of age, the drawing remained intact. 

cassian couldn't take his eyes off that beautiful face — the face he had been blessed to see, love, and caress. it felt like it was a lifetime ago.

"she's beautiful."

the voice startled him. he had been so focused that he hadn't even realized nesta had entered the bedroom.

"i'm sorry, i just wanted to see if you were okay," nesta moved a little closer to him, "you disappeared so quickly after the. . .the bond snapped, and i just want you to know that if you don't want me as your mate, i understand-" 

"sit down," cassian instructed, indicating the space next to him on the bed. "i have something to show you." 

nesta obeyed and watched as cassian fought a battle against himself. following his gaze, she saw what was bothering him so much. 

cassian's eyes were fixed on a small basket that was stored in the corner of the wall next to the bed.

cassian felt tears immediately invade him. 

that damn basket.

every time he looked at it, he was taken back to the past.

but he loved that basket. it was the only physical reminder of the best time of his life.

he painted it that way with his own hands after. . . it took him two weeks to finish.

that damn purple basket with white flowers. 

cassian cursed before getting up slightly from the bed and grabbing one of its handles, dragging it until it was at his feet. 

all the letters were still inside — all of them.

there were more than a hundred in all, some more intimate than others — that ones, cassian didn't dare to read again because he believed his heart couldn't handle going through it again. 

for that very reason, he grabbed his favorites and handed them to nesta.

"here," cassian's hand shook slightly, as did his voice, "read these and you'll understand everything."  

nesta leafed through all the letters in her hands, confusion showing in her furrowed brows. "what are these?"

cassian let out a deep sigh "read them. they'll explain everything." 

she nodded, and so she picked up the first letter and read it. 

•••

dear cassian, today is the third day since i've been back and i'm afraid i have to admit that i miss you already. everything remains the same around here, it feels like i never left. last night, i had an argument with my parents about what had happened. i was very vague about everything, but i did confess that there had been someone and i'm glad i did, because joffrey broke off the engagement this morning. apparently, he no longer has any interest in me now that i'm not 'pure' according to his words. he thinks he humiliated me but in fact he did me a big favor. i went for a walk in the forest this morning and it reminded me of the day we met. do you remember that day? little did we know the adventure that awaited us, and how wonderful it was, don't you agree? with love, y/n 

cassian hated patrol work. he always thought that, next to filling out reports, this was the worst.

normally, this task fell to the spymaster, but with azriel on a mission, the task fell to him.

cassian had already made several rounds and was doing the last border check at the spring court.

everything was fine, until something caught his attention. running through the trees, as if her life depended on it, was a young woman — human.

cassian was surprised. it was very rare for humans to come this far, what was she doing there?

the justification he was looking for appeared when a boy appeared through the trees.

at the speed she was running, it was impossible for this situation to be friendly.

cassian didn't know what to do — he knows he's not supposed to interact with humans, but he couldn't just leave knowing he would hurt her. 

so he did the unthinkable. 

with extreme precision, cassian landed on the ground and began searching for her, following the sound of her footsteps.

when the sound stopped, cassian did too. looking around, he couldn't find anything. his ears didn't prepare him for the body that collided with his chest, knocking the small human to the ground. 

cassian looked at her on the ground. he wonder how long it would take for her to scream and run away.

but that was forgotten when she raised her head.

your eyes, an immense blue, cast a spell over cassian, who found himself lost in them.

never had he seen such blue eyes, not even with the summer or winter fae.

cassian was lost for words and flustered. without even thinking, he reached out a hand and he had the surprise of his life when you placed your small hand in his too large one and allowed him to help you get up. 

"thank you."

cassian had to compose himself before saying, "are you okay?"

his question went unanswered as you were too busy admiring him to listen "wow, you look like a god."

"oh." cassian found himself caught off guard — again.

"so pretty."

cassian blushed. what was going on? he had never blushed before but then again no one had ever called him pretty.

before cassian could speak, several footsteps were heard before the man who was chasing you appeared before you.

you moved behind the general and grabbed his arm as a form of protection.

a human trusted him more — a fae she barely knew than the person in front of him?

cassian didn't like that. the guy paled in front of the general, his eyes widened and his mouth fell open.

"is there a problem?" cassian asked him.

the man began to stutter, unable to formulate a word.

"leave me alone, joffrey. i already told you i'm not going to marry you."

suddenly, joffrey looked at you and his face took on an angry look and when he took a step forward, cassian did too.

joffrey didn't have a chance to take another step, when at the general's movement, he fell to the ground before start running while shouting.

from behind him, laughter was heard. cassian turned to find you and saw you trying to hold back your laughter.

mimicking your smile, cassian pointed in the direction where the guy had been before asking, "your fiancé?"

"arranged marriage." you explained.

"um, aren't you happy?"

"joffrey is horrible. i'd be better off married to a horse than him."

a deep chuckle erupted from the male. you were undoubtedly an interesting human "you're not afraid of me."

"why would i be?" 

"because i'm a fae?" 

"i don't judge people based on their appearance."

that made him shut up and cassian realized it was true. everyone ran away when they saw a fae and here you were, sympathizing with one.

cassian watched you look around.

"i can't go back. if i do, i'll be forced to marry him."

when you reached up to brush your hair away from your face, you noticed the wound on your hand. "is. . .this. . .is this blo. . .blood?"

cassian didn't have time to respond before you passed out. he caught you and lifted you up in his arms, and that sight did something to him.

you did something to him.

and just like that, cassian did the unthinkable a second time that day and took you to velaris with him.

•••

dear cassian, i had an interesting week. i found an injured cat on my way back from the market. the poor thing had a hurt paw and was a little sick, so of course i took him home with me. i fed him, tended to his wound, kept him warm and clean, and made sure he got better. by the end of the week, he was as good as new. i don't know how, but i managed to convince my father to keep him, so now i have a new companion. i named him amren because he looks so much like her. you know what this reminded me of? when you got sick and i took care of you. it was a funny experience, wasn't it? with love, y/n

cassian felt terrible but not as terrible as he would make azriel feel after beating him in the ring for making him sick.

the shadowsinger had returned from his mission in windhaven where he had caught the illyrian flu and now all three brothers were sick.

he was going to make his brother pay, but before he had a chance to think how, his door was opened.

you walked in with a bowl of hot soup in one hand and a large box in the other.

"how is the sick boy?"

"horrible."

a chuckle ran through the room before cassian felt his mattress dip. you made him stand up a little before dipping the spoon into the soup and turning it to him.

"i can eat on my own, thank you." cassian knew how his brothers would tease him for the rest of his life if they saw him being fed by you.

"allow me," you insisted. "you took care of me when i first got here and the small lady said i couldn't get out of bed."

cassian laughed at your description of madja. when he brought you in, she had examined you and discovered that you were severely dehydrated and a little malnourished from the run in the forest and forced you to rest for a week.

cassian took care of you the entire time without ever complaining.

he pointed a finger at you before swallowing the soup. "this can never get out of here."

more giggles reached cassian's ears. how he loved that sound.

"yes, sir general."

cassian ate the soup and ended up repeating after praising your cooking skills one too many times.

board games and cards followed. when cassian's temperature rose, you placed a cold towel on his forehead and read him some poems to help him fall asleep.

a few hours later, rhys went to his brother's room to see how he was doing and was surprised when he saw the two of you.

cassian slept on your chest with his arm around your waist, and you slept with your head resting on his, one arm around his shoulders while the other still held the book.

rhys smiled, and left you two to dream.

•••

dear cassian, autumn is here. this morning, while i was in the garden reading, i had the opportunity to see the flocks of birds migrating. i spent a long time watching them and thinking how lucky they are. it reminded me of the day you took me flying for the first time and how incredible it was. what i would give to fly with you one more time. with love, y/n

"i won't let you fall."

your nervous look made cassian chuckle. the male stood in front of you as he watched you stare at the city below.

"don't you want to go see the city?" 

"of course i do!" you replied, "but humans don't fly."

a round of laughter invaded cassian, he loved the way you were so direct and straightforward. 

two weeks had passed since your arrival, and you kept talking about how you wanted to see the city.

even though it was night, cassian had told you how beautiful it is at night, leading the two of you to the balcony.

approaching you, cassian took your hand and when you looked away from him he placed a finger under your chin and forced you to look at him "you're safe with me, sweetheart."

your eyes acquired a shine that made cassian's heart skip a beat "promise?"

as he placed a light kiss on your hand, cassian promised you.

the general lifted you in his arms and took flight. your body was invaded by adrenaline, making you hide your head in the male's neck for the first few seconds. but with his encouragement, you opened your eyes.

the sparkle returned to your eyes and you felt like you were in a real fairy tale.

it seemed like a dream — the city lit up by stars, the rainbow bridge, the river under the moonlight, people dancing and singing in the streets.

you were so taken aback by everything that your eyes didn't even look away when cassian spoke. "i have an idea. do you trust me?"

"with my life."

cassian felt the weight of your words, but before he could think too much about them, he hugged you around your waist, making you fall into his embrace and stay underneath him.

cassian descended his flight and took you straight to the river where he lowered you until your hands could reach the water.

you stretched out your arms and felt the cold water tickle you making you laugh nonstop. you traveled the entire river, until cassian lifted you higher again, but you kept your arms open the whole time.

it seemed like you were really flying.

freedom and magic had never seemed more beautiful to you.

you smiled all night.

•••

dear cassian, today i was invaded by one of the best memories ever. my mother braided my hair for church and i couldn't help but blush and giggle almost the entire time. i was greeted by strange looks from her but it didn't bother me at all. how could it be when i was thinking about you? that night was special, wasn't it? i know it was for me. with love, y/n

today was one of those days.

the one that cassian just wanted to end. his mother's birthday was always a difficult day for him, and if he could, he would just skip it completely. 

in an attempt to feel better, cassian went in search of the only thing that offer him comfort these days. 

three knocks on the wooden door and a second later, cassian entered the room and upon seeing your smiling face, the tension that tormented him left his body.

you greeted him with a smile so big that it almost disarmed the general completely.

"hey, big boy." several giggles followed your greeting.

cassian couldn't help the giggles that also came out of him, as he closed the door and headed towards the bed where you were sitting.

"hey, little one." cassian was enjoying this new type of flirting — innocent and pure, true and funny, with no ulterior motives. 

you were already ready for bed. your nightgown was white and one of the straps was hanging down because you were finishing braiding your hair. 

his troat got a little dry.

"are you okay? you look a little sad." 

cassian's eyes shifted back to yours, and his heart warmed at your kindness. 

"i'm fine. it's just one of those days." 

understanding dawned on your face, "well, lucky for you, i have the best medicine for that." 

amusement filled cassian's face. raising an eyebrow, he asked "it's that so?" 

nodding your head, you grabbed his hand and led him to sit in front of you on the floor. 

cassian ignored the feeling of your bare legs on either side of his shoulders, your soft and smooth skin touching the skin of his arms. 

moments later, cassian felt his hair being combed on one side while the other was caressed by your fingers. 

the general immediately relaxed. closing his eyes, he let his back fall against the bed, filling all the space between you.

"my grandmother used to do this to me when i was little, especially when i was sad. it was impossible not to feel better after."

"were you close?" cassian found himself asking. 

"a lot, there were times when i considered her more my mother than my own mother." 

"you must have loved her very much."

several giggles came out of you. "i did, but we never used that expression." 

through the mirror, you watched cassian frown in confusion, causing you to laugh again "what do you mean?"

"my grandmother was a complicated woman. when she was younger, she didn't believe in love. she thought it was impossible to love someone more than anything." 

cassian listened attentively to every word you said.

"until she met my grandfather. she said that whenever she was with him, her heart beat faster, as if it was beating for him, and not for her. as if her heart belonged to him." 

cassian found your face in the mirror, and the smile you wore as you brushed his hair made him give a matching smile. 

you were talking with so much love, so much adoration.

"whenever she wanted to express her love for my grandfather, she would say 'my heart beats for you'. i've always loved that expression, i think it's much more sincere than the other one to be honest." 

your expression of adoration was replaced by one of surprise "i've never told anyone this before."  

cassian realized what you meant behind those words and before he could stop himself, he took a leap of confidence.

"today would be my mother's birthday." 

and so, the two of you talked all night long. 

cassian told you about his mother, about his  childhood, about the war, about everything.

you hugged him, wiped his tears, and kissed his cheeks — he blushed but you pretended you didn't notice.

you ended up braiding his hair while telling him how you wanted to be a teacher and open your own school for girls and boys because in your village only men could study.

how you wanted to help improve the future lives of those girls who were just as deserving of a good life as any boy. 

cassian found himself wondering how could you be this perfect and how lucky he felt that he was the one to find you.

in the future, when anyone asked him about the moment he fell in love with you, cassian would talk about this night. 

•••

dear cassian, i miss my days in prythian. i miss you. i don't want to be human anymore. i want you. y/n

the restaurants cassian took you to so you could sample the delicious food velaris offered, including the bakeries where cassian discovered you had a sweet tooth for chocolate cake. he found himself wiping chocolate off your chin several times.

the nights at rita's where you and rhysand did karaoke side by side, acting like superstars.

your chess battles with amren, and how she could never win a single game against you, always claiming that you were cheating.

the girls' nights with morrigan, and the shopping trips she took you on.

the reading time with azriel, where just the company of each other was enough for you.

the training sessions between azriel and cassian that brought your not-so-decent scenarios with the general to life in your mind.

the night flights in cassian's arms.

the nights when you always braided his hair so that it wouldn't get knotted while he slept.

your discovery of green herbal tea that helped cassian with his allergies.

the night you outlined cassian's tattoos as a way to help him relax after a hard day.

and your favorite. your birthday when the inner circle organized a surprise party for you and cassian gave you what become your favorite piece of clothing — a purple dress with white flowers.

•••

dear cassian, the first rain has come to my village and with it has brought back some memories. i spent most of the afternoon sitting by the window just to appreciate the view. when i was questioned from my mother about my doings, i gave her this same answer and she looked at me strangely, saying that there was nothing beautiful to appreciate. oh, cass, how wrong she is. i haven't been able to get you out of my head since the first drops touched the earth. what a special day that was for us. dare i say one of the best? i will cherish that day forever as long as my memory allows it, but i know that it will always remain in my heart. how could i forget, when that was the day i felt alive again in a long time? i just hope you felt the same way. with love, y/n

it was raining non-stop.

what had started out as a sunny day had quickly turned into a gray one.

you and cassian struggled not to slip on the wet dirt as you ran to the cabin.

the cabin by the lake that rhysand had lent you for a weekend together. you had gone to visit a fair that was taking place in a nearby village before the rain changed your plans.

cassian knew that your time together was coming to an end, and that this was rhys's way of letting you say goodbye to each other, and for that, he was grateful.

holding hands, only your laughter and the rain were audible.

looking at you, cassian saw your smile, the one he likes so much. a pang sounded in his heart and forced him to stop.

"what's wrong?" you asked when you noticed.

"i don't know what you're doing to me."

confusion fell over your face "what?"

"the things you're making me feel. i've never felt anything like this before."

the world stopped. suddenly, it was just you and him, him and you. the only audible sound was the beating of your hearts.

"my heart beats for you." he confessed, "he's been beating for you for some time now."

several tears ran down your face and your breath got caught in your throat.

this was really happening.

a big smile formed on your face "my heart beats for you, too."

a great sigh of relief left his mouth, with a smile that matched yours, the general didn't waste another moment to do what he had been dreaming of doing for weeks.

he kissed you with all his strength.

you who were stealing his heart since the day he saw you.

you returned the kiss immediately encouraging cassian to deepen the kiss, making you lean back a little.

taking advantage of this new change, cassian took the opportunity to wrap his hands around the back of your thighs, propelling you upwards, making you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

the male carried you to cabin, and then to the bedroom, whose door was opened with a kick without ever breaking the kiss.

cassian supported his knees on the mattress, lowering your bodies until your back rested gently on the surface of the bed.

his hands traveled your body, while your hands slid down the width of his back, feeling every muscle he had there under your palms.

your hands continued their path until they reached the hem of his shirt. when you showed your intention to lift it, your action was interrupted by cassian.

"wait." he asked, leaning on his knees and holding your small wrists in his too-large hands.

"is there a problem?"

your legs continued to rest on either side of cassian's legs, you showed no intention of moving.

"you're human."

your eyes dropped to the skirt of your dress, a pang of shame reaching your heart. you couldn't help but think that maybe he didn't want to do this because you would never be able to satisfy him like the females in his world.

after all, you are just a simple human while they look like goddesses compared to you.

"no, it's not that."

your eyes immediately flew to meet those brown ones. cassian approached and ran a hand over your face.

"trust me, it's not that. i've never wanted anyone like i want you, but. . . "

your hand rested on his, which was on your cheek, heating up with each movement of the male.

"i'm afraid i might hurt you. i'm much stronger than you and i don't want to hur-"

"you could never hurt me." you were quick to interrupt him and the feeling of relief that filled you was welcome.

he wants you, but he's just afraid of hurting you.

your heart skipped a beat at his kindness.

"i know you'd never hurt me, cass. it's okay, i want this." this time, you were the one caressing his face, "i trust you."

oh, if you only knew how much those three words had an effect on him.

never in his four hundred years had cassian ever felt this way about anyone.

someone who made him feel alive.

someone who gave him a purpose.

nodding, cassian was quick to kiss you again, and when you tried to take off his shirt again, he didn't stop you.

standing up, he undid his pants, button by button. you watched as his pants slid down his muscular thighs.

now in just his boxers, you took in the incredible sight of the warrior he was — his muscles, his tattoos, and those strands of hair tied in a bun while the rest remained loose.

an absolute god.

what an impossible mission it was to meet this male and not fall madly in love with him.

cassian broke the last step when his boxers joined the pile of his clothes on the floor.

you couldn't stop your gaze from lingering on his length for longer than it should have.

a chuckle from cassian broke your trance and you tried to hide your blushing cheeks as you stood up and stood in front of him with your back turned.

you felt the male's breathing get heavier as you gently slid your hair over one shoulder, giving him a view of the zipper of your dress.

cassian's hands were shaking slightly as the general began to slide the clasp all the way down, being greeted by your bare back.

a kiss was placed at the beginning of your spine, sending shivers down it, while two large hands slid the dress off your shoulders until it fell to the floor.

when you found cassian's face again, you watched as his eyes traveled over your body, memorizing every detail.

with your eyes still on his, you lay back down on the mattress. cassian followed you, resting his forearms on the sides of your head.

his fingers traveled through your hair while his lips were busy kissing you.

the kiss took another turn when the kisses strayed to your cheek, followed by your neck and down your chest until they reached your belly and stopped just below your belly button.

cassian lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours in a silent question.

"yes."

he placed one last kiss on your belly before his hands grabbed the fabric of your underwear and slid them down your legs.

several light kisses were placed on the inside of your thighs as the male made another round of kisses until he reached your lips.

when his hips aligned with yours, you felt a pressure at your entrance that caused a new sensation in your belly.

cassian grabbed one of your arms, lifting and bending it over your head before intertwining your fingers with his and holding it there.

his other hand slid down your thigh until he lifted it and held it higher on his hip.

"are you sure?"

a nod wasn't enough for the male who preferred words for what was about to happen.

"words, baby."

your heart skipped another beat. could this male be more perfect?

with a look of love written all over your face, you said "make me yours."

cassian fell apart at your words and as quick as a snap of his fingers, his heart surrendered to you completely.

lifting his hips slightly, cassian pushed inside and a strange sensation invaded you.

he made sure his movement was slow and gentle so as not to hurt you, until he was completely inside.

your heart was racing as was your breathing, as you tried to get used to this new sensation that could be described as strange, a little painful but at the same time pleasant.

cassian stood still for a few seconds, using his free hand to caress your hair "relax, baby."

following his advice, your muscles relaxed and the tension disappeared from your body, leaving only pleasure.

giving the male an indication to continue, cassian moved slowly and gently with each encounter of your hips.

as you got used to it, his thrusts became deeper and more precise.

your moans mixed with cassian's grunts, your bodies moving in harmony.

your body exploded and you found yourself sailing in a sea of pleasures where each sensation left you feeling incredible.

just when you thought it couldn't get any better, cassian wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing you closer, and held both of your hands above your head as he took a few minutes to explore your chest.

sucking and biting, you were left with love marks all over your skin.

this is where you wanted to be. in this bed, in the arms of this male.

you wanted to display all these marks of love so that everyone could know that the two of you belonged together.

you remained wrapped in each other until the next morning sun came to greet you.

•••

the day you and cassian had to say goodbye is not one he wants to remember.

it was months later, during one of the parties organized by the high lord in the hewn city.

after a night full of laughter, dancing and food, an attempt on rhys's life occurred. the inner circle was quick to act but not before one of the attackers hurt you.

madja was able to heal some of your injuries but due to your human nature, the others would take longer to heal.

guilt consumed cassian, reminding him how fragile you were compared to them.

cassian could not be selfish with you and make you stay in his world just so he could be with you.

he held you in his arms, kissing you and telling how much his heart beats for you.

the next morning, you woke up in your village with the a ghost feeling of strong arms around you as last memory.

•••

my love, i'm getting married. i understand that this may come as a big surprise but this time is different. i'm ready for a life beyond my parents' reach. his name is liam, we have known each other since we were children when he lived across the house from me. i met him again when i was returning from church, i learned that he recently lost his wife to a virus in a village in the north. he returned to his parents' house after his wife's funeral to start over. we have kept in touch ever since and life has led us to take the next step. we are not in love, not even close, but we are friends, we enjoy each other's company and we both want the same thing and guess what? liam loved my idea of being a teacher and opening a small school. he is a good man, he treats me very well and supports my dreams, i think everything will be fine. i bought my wedding dress the other day and i couldn't help but think about the beautiful dresses i would find in velaris and how pretty you would look in a suit at the altar. oh, cass, how i wish it was you. how i wish it was you to whom i would say those two little words. i still have some preparations to make until the wedding day, next friday. and i already know that if he ever goes off the rails, all i have to do is describe to him an illyrian general who would be happy to settle scores with him. i miss you, cass. my heart beats for you. forever yours, y/n

cassian was nervous.

he knew he shouldn't be here, but he couldn't stop himself from coming.

a part of him believed that you wanted him here, that the mention of your wedding day had been intentional so he could come.

at least, that's what he tried to convince his brothers when rhysand and azriel tried to stop him.

the sun had set long ago, but the party continued.

cassian watched the light emitted by the windows of the small church and the music that was playing inside.

several voices laughing and singing could be heard through the thin wood.

cassian paced back and forth, wondering what he should do.

the male walked a few steps towards the church only to walk back and find his brothers coming out of the trees.

a sigh of annoyance left the general's mouth, who received looks of understanding from his brothers.

"you can't be here, cass," rhysand told him for what seemed like the hundredth time since that letter had reached his brother's hands.

"what am i supposed to do, rhys?" pain showed in cassian's brown eyes, causing a pang of pain in his brothers hearts.

"my girl is in there getting married to a guy who isn't me."

azriel approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder and lightly squeezing him. "we know, but it's dangerous for you to be here, brother. what if someone sees you?"

"i'm not afraid of them, az." cassian gave him an incredulous look, as if the male didn't know what he was made of.

"i'm not talking about you," cassian's confusion was enough for him to continue. "y/n is in there. if someone sees you and tries to hurt you, she'll step in and stop it from happening. and then what? what do you think they'd do to her if they found out you were the person she was with while she was away?"

cassian's stomach turned at the mere thought of someone being capable of hurting you.

you who radiate kindness and gentleness.

"he's right, cass. not all humans are understanding, many of them would never accept the fact that y/n chose you over one of them." rhysand added.

cassian hung his head in defeat and with a simple nod, conveyed his understanding to his brothers.

just as they turned their backs on the church and prepared to leave, a honey-sweet voice stopped them.

"cass?"

a wave of electricity invaded the male's body and a sense of relief filled him.

he would recognize that voice anywhere. even if he was at the ends of the world, he would recognize you.

cassian's knees nearly gave out when he turned around and found the most beautiful bride he had ever seen.

you were on the church porch. your hair was tied up in a bun with a bridal pin on top holding a transparent, shiny veil.

you displayed a white shiny dress that started with a sweetheart neckline whose fabric hugged your form until your hips and then cascaded down to your feet.

you were mesmerizing with the starlight completing you.

cassian forgot how to breathe.

if his time came at that precise moment, he would die happy.

"cass!" your eyes lit up as your feet carried you to him.

cassian ran to you and when you threw yourself into his arms, he held you as if his life depended on it.

he inhaled your scent, memorized the softness of your skin and recorded the sound of your laughter.

cassian would stay in this position forever, with you in his arms, safe, happy and loved.

but that was interrupted when you ended the hug and pulled away just long enough to firmly grab his face and kiss him directly on his lips.

cassian kissed you back immediately. a kiss that told him so much even without words spoken in between.

how much you missed him, how much you loved him and how much to desire to be with him.

when the kiss ended, your foreheads remained together with your hands still on each other's cheeks, as you tried to calm your hearts and catch your breath.

a light laugh from you broke the silence "i missed you."

"i missed you too, baby."

"we missed you too, y/n" rhys's voice reached your ears, making you turn in the arms of your male and look in the direction of his brothers.

azriel and rhysand raised their hands together in greeting, goofy smiles on their faces.

"i missed you too, boys," your eyes redirected to those brown who invaded your dreams "but not as much as your pretty brother here."

cassian blushed, looking away from you and hiding his face in your neck, leaving his brothers giggling and mocking him.

the small moment of tenderness didn't last long when a pair of footsteps reached the ears of the illyrians, making them go into defense mode.

cassian quickly placed you behind him while rhysand and azriel joined his sides with weapons ready.

not far away, a sharp scream broke through the garden and a small 'pum' echoed beneath your feet.

before anything tragic could happen, you stepped in front of the males, trying to contain your laughter.

"it's okay! it's liam!"

liam — the human on the ground — was in a fetal position, with his head hidden in his knees and his arms wrapped around them.

"please, don't hurt me." he begged.

"liam," you tried to stifle your laughter but failed as you helped him up, "they're not going to hurt you, you idiot."

"oh," liam let out a small nervous laugh as he adjusted his coat and pants. "well, that's good. thank you."

the males put away their weapons as they observed what was your new husband.

the smile that adorned your face at the scene that had just taken place did not go unnoticed by them.

as you linked your arm with liam's, you approached the males and made the proper introductions.

"liam, this is rhysand and azriel." you paused briefly as the three shook hands.

a look of love took over your face "and this is cassian," a brief pause, enough for your eyes to regain that shine that was meant only for him "my cassian."

the male's heart skipped a beat and began beating so fast that he only realized it when his brothers' giggles started again.

clearing his throat and composing himself, cassian ignored the two idiots on the left and looked at liam.

he didn't know what to expect from the man's reaction but it was definitely not what displayed next.

"it's very nice to meet you, sir. i heard great things about you."

"you did?" cassian asked suprised.

you were the one to answer this time "i told liam about us. he's not like the others."

liam shook hands with cassian, before stepping back and exclaiming "i'll give you two a moment alone," looking at you he continued "i'll be inside when you're ready."

gratitude and joy filled your eyes bringing tears to the surface "thank you, liam."

"of course." liam replied as he took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

already heading towards the church, liam was stopped in his tracks, with a voice he knew belonged to a general without even looking back.

"yes?" he asked as he found cassian's face again.

cassian looked at you — at your eyes that shone every time you looked at him and as he ran a hand over your face, he placed his hand on the back of your neck bringing you into a hug.

as soon as your face touched his chest, you wrapped your arms around his waist, one of his hands remained on your neck while the other found your waist.

your body immediately relaxed against his and cassian had to look away from you as tears invaded his eyes.

he had to clear his throat before proceeding "take care of my girl."

liam gave him a genuine smile that showed cassian he could trust him. "i will. you have my word."

with a nod from the male, liam continued on his way until he entered the church.

a simple look at his brothers told them what cassian wanted.

a moment alone with you — the last one.

azriel and rhysand placed a kiss on the top of your head in turn before leaving.

there in the middle of a garden, in the moonlight, you and cassian danced.

"my heart beats for you." you said it one last time.

"my heart beats for you, baby."

you danced together for a long time.

the dance that was supposed to be witnessed by the whole world on your wedding day.

but instead, only the stars got to witnessed it.

•••

dear cassian, today marks two months since i started teaching. the renovations were finished a few weeks after the wedding and the school is finally up and running. the first few days were difficult, many girls didn't show up because some parents still believed that education is only for boys but i think the gods are on my side. by the fourth week there were so many girls and boys that there wasn't room for one more person. many of the children had to sit on the tables and windowsills, can you believe it? the children are contagious and have such a curiosity to learn that it fills my heart with joy. liam and i have been married for six months. we found a nice house near the lake and everything is going well. we are planning a trip to the mainland at the end of the year. it will be our honeymoon since we didn't have the chance after the wedding. i hope you are all well. with love, y/n

on top of a tree planted in a garden in front of a small school, a large illyrian general struggled with his weight to stay stable in the branches.

on the general's face was one of the biggest smiles he had ever shown.

his eyes were fixed on the scene that was unfolding a few feet away from him on the ground.

in the middle of the garden, in front of a small school, there was you. — his girl.

cassian watched as you stood in the middle of a circle, singing and clapping, while the children danced around you with smiles on their faces — faces full of a happiness caused by you.

the scene brought tears to his eyes.

you were happy.

your dream had come true.

and it was at that precise moment that he knew he had made the right decision in letting you go.

•••

dear cassian, i've been very busy with school and the children. it's been rewarding to be able to be a part of these little beings who grow more and more with each passing day. liam is doing well, we celebrated his birthday a few weeks ago. we're both very happy and our relationship gets better every day. this is a very special time for us, especially now that we've discovered that our family of two will soon become a family of three. who would have thought, me as a mom, can you imagine? my little bump is already noticeable and the baby kicked for the first time the other day. i already love this baby so much. i'm happy. with love, y/n

"where have you been?"

rhysand's voice attacked cassian's mind with a tone too loud.

cassian was sitting on the couch with several empty bottles of alcohol at his feet and tears streaming down his face.

rhys didn't need an answer from his brother to realize where he had gone.

"you went to see her."

more tears ran down cassian's face, and the male took another sip before speaking.

"they were building the crib."

rhysand let out a sigh and approached the male, taking the bottle from him and grabbing his shoulder. "you can't keep doing this to yourself, cassian. you have to let her go."

"i can't," cassian began to sob, "i don't want to."

without any way of predicting it, rhys rocked back as cassian hugged him.

the high lord's heart broke for his brother — his love for you was unquestionable.

"she looked so beautiful, rhys," the sobs grew louder, "she was wearing the purple dress with white flowers and . . . and her little bump was showing."

rhys hugged his brother tightly, showing him that he was there for him.

"i want her back. i want my girl back."

cassian fell asleep crying.

•••

dear cassian, my babygirl is here. on a summer night, cassie marie came into this world screaming and kicking. she is absolutely perfect. liam and i decided to name her after the loves we lost, i hope you like it. cassie has my hair and liam's nose but somehow she has your eyes and according to liam, marie's freckles. if this isn't a gift from the gods, then i don't know what is. cassie is now four months old, she's always smiling and communicating in her sweet way. you should see her, cassian, she's so beautiful. sometimes i let myself wonder what it would be like if she had little bat wings and black hair. even after all this, my heart still beats for you. with love, y/n

on the porch of a house by the lake, sitting in a rocking chair, a mother sang to her newborn daughter.

the beautiful girl listened attentively to her mother's voice, who looked at her with all the love in the world reflected in her blue eyes.

the baby smiled from time to time, babbling here and there, trying to join her mother.

cassian watched from the shadows.

the scene unfolding before his eyes brought him peace — a peace mixed with a certain kind of pain.

unable to help himself, he also imagined what it would be like if that little girl had small bat wings and black hair.

he imagined what it would be like to be able to hold those two precious things in his arms and be able to call them his own.

cassian couldn't hold back the tears.

that was the last time he ever saw you.

•••

dear cassian, it's been so long since my last letter. a lot has changed since then. liam and i have now been married for eight years, cassie is six, wren is three and lucy just turned one. liam and i moved to a bigger house about two years ago. our children are our greatest blessings, cassie loves to paint and read, wren has developed a new obsession with bugs and rocks, and lucy loves it when i sing to her. i wish i could slow down time so they wouldn't grow up so fast. my father passed away last year after catching a bad case of the flu, but don't worry, i'm better now. i'm glad father got to meet lucy before he left us. my birthday is coming up and I'll be thirty-two soon. it feels like a lifetime ago since i met you. every time i see cassie's eyes, i see you and my heart fills with love and good memories. my heart still beats for you, cass. with love, y/n

•••

dear cassian, how time flies. i can't remember the last letter i wrote you. cassie is twenty now and has a boyfriend who liam isn't very happy with. she wants to be a teacher like me and one day when she's ready, she'll take my place at school. wren is almost eighteen and has decided he wants to be a doctor like his dad. he's been helping liam at the clinic lately. the first few days were hard, he threw up a few times but he's getting the hang of it. lucy loves nature. flowers, animals, trees, anything that involves it. she doesn't know what she wants to be yet but she's still young and has a lot of time until then. everything is going well. with love, y/n

•••

dear cassian, i'm a grandmother. last week, my cassie gave birth to a beautiful boy. the boyfriend that liam didn't like ended up proving himself to us and three years later, he and my little girl tied the knot. my grandson is beautiful, just like his mother. cassie has already taken my place at school and can't stop talking about how excited she is to go back. in a few months, it will be my son's turn to marry with girl who used to be my student. they make a beautiful couple. lucy ended up opening a bookstore and she's so happy. liam and i retired about a year ago and with all our babies out of the house and their lives organized, our house has become emptier and quieter. i'm not a big fan of this, but it's been useful because we have been taking advantage of this time to travel more, like we always wanted to. life has been good to me. with love, y/n

•••

my love, i turned eighty-three today. my family threw me a big surprise party surrounded by family and friends, it was one of the best i've ever had. i already have five grandchildren, did you know? my lucy had her first a few months ago. lately, i've been thinking a lot about the life i've built, about everything i've experienced. time is starting to pass by me, cass, i can feel it in my bones. it hurts me to say that i don't remember you anymore. no matter how hard i try, i can't remember your face or your voice but do you know what i can still remember? that my heart beats for you just as it always has. live well, cass. be happy and when your time comes, look for me in the next life. my heart will forever belong to you. forever yours, your girl, y/n

•••

the letter arrived on a gray morning.

the sun was hidden behind the clouds as if it was too afraid to come say 'hi'.

it was a strange morning, cassian thought.

despite the fact that it was already the last days of summer, pryhtian was still a few weeks away from welcoming the next season.

the inner circle was in the living room having breakfast at the house of wind.

nuala entered the room with a letter sealed that was resting on a white porcelain platter.

a huge smile immediately spread across the general's face.

after all, it was the first thursday of the month and everyone knew what that meant — a letter from you.

cassian didn't wait for nuala to cross the room to him. standing up as quickly as possible, wiping his hands on the pants fabric, cassian walked over to her.

he thanked the half-wraith, still with his mouth full, as he hurried to take the letter out and open it.

a few steps away, sitting at the oak table, his family studied with amusement in their eyes and genuine smiles.

cassian wasn't the only one who looked forward to your letters and the words contained in them — the first thursday of the month was always a day of great excitement for everyone, even for your old chess partner.

but, unfortunately, this wasn't a normal thursday.

the members of the inner circle were quick to notice this when cassian's behavior changed.

how he remained with his back turned, instead of turning around ready to share the letter with them;

how his knees began to weaken, instead of running back to the table smiling;

how his breathing became rapid and strangled, instead of letting out several laughs;

how from one moment to the next, everything changed.

cassian fell to his knees.

a second — that was all it took for his heart to stop.

a strangled sound of pain woke azriel and rhysand from their trances and they ran to their brother's aid.

morrigan and amren followed them, staying just a few steps away from where the three brothers were now on the ground.

four strong arms wrapped around cassian's body, whose chest shook with pain as his tears fell onto the abandoned letter on the floor, blurring the various words written on it.

through their brother's tears, the two males could only make out one sentence that remained untouched.

their hearts were immediately struck, as if someone had ambushed them and stolen a part of them.

tears that matched cassian's gathered in his family's eyes.

grief invaded them in the worst possible way.

you had died in your sleep.

the sun did not shine that day.

•••

she was lost for words.

she would never have imagined the depth of your love story with cassian.

now it all made sense.

the fact that he was scared by the revelation of the bond — the fact that he was insecure and afraid to accept it.

"i need you to understand that a part of my heart will always belong to her."

cassian began by saying, his eyes never meeting nesta's.

"after y/n, i never went back to being with another woma-" clearing his throat, he adjusted his position on the bed "with another female."

"for decades i couldn't even look at another female with that intention. y/n completely disarmed me."

a hoarse laugh escaped his lips "she turned my world upside down. she changed me for the better and showed me a life i never thought i was worthy of. so i need you to understand this before you make a decision about the bond."

his eyes met nesta's face for the first time.

"no matter how many years, decades, centuries pass, i will never, ever stop loving her. she was the one who made my heart beat for the first time, and even after one hundred and seventy-two years since she left this world. . .my heart continues to beat for her and it always will."

for the second time that day, nesta was lost for words.

she couldn't comprehend that kind of love — a love so deep, so true, so powerful.

she hoped that one day she could be blessed and experience it.

even though she knew that cassian would never love her like he loved you — to her surprise, that didn't bother her.

"i understand," a soft smile appeared on her lips and nesta felt relieved when cassian mimicked her, "you really loved her, huh?"

the male nodded several times before confessing out loud "more than life itself."

a moment of silence followed before cassian got up from the bed and walked towards his dresser.

underneath a set of clothes, the male took out a parchment.

on his way to nesta, he held it against his chest as if he was assimilating everything that was happening before stopping in front of her.

"she left you a letter." cassian surprised her and handed her a parchment before retreating to the balcony.

nesta stared at the parchment in her hands for a while, trying to figure out the meaning behind those words.

clarity dawned on her — not for her, but for cassian's future wife.

your consideration warmed her heart. rhysand was right — you really did have a gift for stealing people's hearts.

nesta broke the seal and a sweet smell invaded her space.

honey — your scent, nesta realized. she unrolled the letter and read it.

hello, future lady general, my name is y/n and if you are reading this letter, then i assume that cass has already told you about me. i can see that we are both lucky to have such a male in our lives. i don't know how much about our story cass has already told you but by now you must be aware that i am human. or that i was, depending when you're reading this. even though my heart beats for him, we're not meant to be, so i'm writing this letter to tell you a little bit about this amazing male that rocked my world. he's kind, honest, loyal, loving, funny, and so pretty. even though he thinks 'pretty' is a cheesy word, believe me, he likes it when people call him that. he loves flying at night, especially on summer nights. he's a big fan of music. he loves to eat, but he hates eating alone. it reminds him of his childhood in windhaven, so even if you're not eating, sit with him. he had a rough childhood and sometimes he lets those memories get to him, so on those days don't talk to him, just hug him and show him that you're there for him. he has allergies, a lot of them, so in the spring, make him a green herbal tea, it always works. he loves having his hair brushed and braided (he'll never admit it), especially at night before going to bed, that way he won't wake up with knots in his hair. and he loves kisses. in his cheek, in his nose, in his forehead, in his lips, so whenever you get a chance kiss him. it may be a little difficult at first, he has some difficulty in opening up but don't give up on him, he's worth it. please take care of my cass, he can be a little grumpy sometimes, but he's an incredible male who deserves the stars and so much more. make him laugh, make him smile, make him cry, make him scream, make him feel, make him live. make him my cassian again, and not the cassian he will became when my time in this world comes to an end. love him, appreciate him, enjoy him, protect him, accept him. make him yours. i hope your heart beats for him, just like mine still does. thank you, y/n

tears filled nesta archeron's eyes.

the female needed to take a few deep breaths for her heart to recover from what she had just read.

this letter was the only thing she needed to realize how much you had loved cassian and how easy it had been for him to fall in love with you.

who wouldn't? you seemed perfect.

she found cassian on the balcony with his arms resting on the wall and his head down.

the older archeron sister didn't even want to imagine the pain that her mate had felt throughout these years for his late love.

in that moment, nesta knew that she could never replace you, and not even she wanted that, but she wanted to do exactly what you had left in the letter for her.

to do what, unfortunately, you were only able to do for a short period of time and somehow be able to bring comfort to your soul knowing that your cassian was in good hands.

her gray eyes drifted to the letters that remained on the bed.

her eyes traveled through them but the only thing she could focus on was those pages.

the pages that were proof of cassian's grieve.

the pages that were marked by tears.

a/n: thank you for reading! i fell in love with this story even if it hurt to write some of it.

general taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa @mrsjna @lively-potter @meul-a @avajustreads @littlelou22 @talesofadragon @circe143 @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @dark-chaos-314 @tequilya @scoliobean @saltedcoffeescotch @charlotteintumbleland @dark-chaos-314 @agirlwithwifiandalaptop

*if you asked to be tagged and you weren't, it's because I couldn't find your blog.

the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

[bookwormjust]

Nesta harsh words (established relationship with Cassian, you feel vulnerable for once)

You had always approached Nesta with kindness and empathy, understanding that her tough exterior was a shield she used to protect herself. That didn’t make it any easier when she directed one of her harsh comments at you, particularly when you were in a vulnerable state.

The evening had been going well—a quiet gathering with the family, a rare moment of togetherness. You had been chatting with Feyre and Elain, laughing softly at some lighthearted story, when Nesta’s voice cut through the conversation. 

“Not everyone can be a perfect little angel all the time,” Nesta said sharply, her eyes fixed on you. “Sometimes it’s okay to be a bit more real.”

The comment was direct, and while you understood that it wasn’t necessarily aimed to hurt, the sting was unmistakable. It felt as though her words were a personal attack, even if that wasn’t her intention. You managed to keep your smile in place, though it faltered slightly. Your heart sank, and you tried to shrug it off, reminding yourself that Nesta’s barbed remarks were more about her own struggles than about you.

Cassian, who had been chatting with the others across the room, immediately picked up on the shift in your demeanor. His gaze, sharp and protective, flicked between you and Nesta, his eyes darkening with concern.

“Hey, Nesta,” Cassian’s voice came out low and firm, a warning note in his tone. “That wasn’t called for.”

You placed a calming hand on his arm, giving him a gentle squeeze. “It’s alright, Cassian,” you said softly, trying to defuse the situation before it escalated. “I’m fine. Really.”

Nesta’s eyes widened slightly, her expression shifting from defensive to puzzled, though she didn’t apologize. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she muttered, though her tone was still blunt.

You offered her a small, forgiving smile. “I understand. It’s okay.”

Cassian’s protective nature was evident, but he respected your attempt to handle the situation with grace. He gave you a reassuring squeeze before turning back to Nesta, his expression softening as he tried to bridge the gap between them. 

As the evening continued, you did your best to appear unaffected, engaging in conversations and laughter as if nothing had happened. Inside, however, you were struggling to push aside the hurt. You wrapped your arms around yourself, more out of instinct than for warmth, and focused on the comforting presence of Cassian nearby.

Later, when the gathering had dwindled and everyone had started to disperse, Cassian’s hand found yours, his touch warm and grounding. He led you to a quieter corner, away from the others, his expression a mix of concern and tenderness.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice gentle but filled with worry. “You seemed really hurt by what Nesta said.”

You met his gaze, doing your best to smile reassuringly. “I’m okay, Cassian. I really am. I know how Nesta can be, and I’m used to it.”

Cassian’s frown deepened, his protective instincts clearly at odds with his understanding of the situation. “You shouldn’t have to just accept her harshness. You’re too kind for that.”

You squeezed his hand, appreciating his concern even as you tried to downplay the incident. “It’s alright. I’d rather not make a fuss about it. She’s going through a lot, too. I just want to be there for everyone.”

Cassian’s gaze softened, though a trace of frustration remained in his eyes. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. “Just remember, you don’t have to take it all on yourself. I’m here for you, always.”

You nestled against him, letting his warmth and strength ease the lingering sting of Nesta’s words. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice soft and filled with gratitude. “I know you are. And that means everything to me.”

He held you a little tighter, his touch conveying both his love and his frustration at not being able to shield you from every hurt. “We’ll get through this,” he said quietly, his voice a steady reassurance.

You nodded against his chest, feeling the comfort of his presence. “Yes, we will.”

The night continued, but the pain from Nesta’s comment slowly faded, softened by Cassian’s unwavering support and the love that surrounded you. You knew that with him by your side, you could face any harshness, and that no matter what, he would always be there to protect and support you.

[thesunloveschips]

Eye of the Storm - Chapter 4: Introductions and Newborns

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

Chapter Summary: With all the sisters now present, they dine. New shadows are born. Conversational topics include childhood trauma and prelude to war.

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

****

“Nyra.” Feyre stood up immediately. The call for her older sister had been one of surprise and something else. Whatever that something else was, she couldn't identify it. That unknown feeling froze her limbs and stopped her from moving towards her sister. The others stood up after Feyre and waited. Nyra Archeron walked forward towards Feyre. She ignored Azriel and Rhysand and despite passing by their towering figures. She saw Feyre and only Feyre.

Rhys felt a tad bit offended at him being ignored by a female—how could anybody look past this? This being his gloriously crafted face, his muscular body over which he wore fine fabrics, his neck and chest with tattoos peeking out. How was it that none of these females were in awe of his beauty? Feyre had thrown a shoe at him the first time he met her after he had started recuperating and was back to his level of handsomeness. Nesta looked at him like she’d rip his head off. Elain had commendably not vomitted upon seeing him. And Nyra just walked past.

Cassian watched this female walk in. He noted that her body was weaker, her steps seemed to require more energy. And despite this female being twin to the wildfire standing next to him, he had started noting their differences. Subtle differences like Nyra's cheekbones not being as high as Nesta's. The shape of their eyebrows. And they way one of them looked at the fae murderously and the other simply ignored them. Nesta's eyes were feline-like. Eyes that narrowed at him and had his knees weakening. Nyra had larger eyes. And these little differences made it easier for him to differentiate between the two sisters.

Seeing Elain and Nesta had made Feyre quite emotional but Feyre had managed to keep it all contained. But seeing Nyra took away the lid of it all. Tears formed at the corner of her eyes. Nyra pulled her in for an embrace and Feyre began wailing like a newborn at the comfort of her sister. Nesta walked back to her chair but did not sit. Not until Nyra had taken her seat. All of them continued to stand and watched with mixed feelings of awkwardness, grief, confusion and so on as Feyre cried and Nyra hummed an old tune for her youngest.

“Let’s get you seated now, shall we?” And with that, Nyra gently led Feyre to her seat and made her sit. She leaned down just enough to kiss Feyre on the forehead. “Feeling better now?” Feyre nodded. Nyra kissed her again and then looked at Nesta and then at Elain and then at Cassian.

“Are you Feyre’s friends?” And then she looked at Rhysand and Azriel properly. She hadn’t seen any of them or even her sisters when she entered the room and headed straight for Feyre. And now that she had, she noted the difference in appearance and their presence which had created a peculiar scent in the air around them.

Rhysand was pleasantly surprised. He was the High Lord of the Night Court but he was also Rhys. He was thankful for having a family in front of whom he could be just Rhys. And he was sad that his mate had no one who let her be just Feyre. Because Feyre had always been the breadwinner for her family. The Cursebreaker for all of Prythian. A mere wife for Tamlin. But this female, his mate, was just Feyre. Neither Elain nor Nesta ever truly allowed her to be Feyre. But in this moment, Nyra did. And he felt a wave of relief. The only sister who let Feyre be a sister to her. To be just Feyre. And a sense of gratitude bloomed in his chest. Gratitude and respect. Because Nyra might not have been able to stop Feyre from going into the woods but she treated Feyre like what she was. A young girl. Just Feyre.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nyra Archeron. My name is Rhysand and I am the High Lord of the Night Court. Please feel free to call me Rhys.” Rhys bowed and raised his head with a smile. Cassian looked at Rhysand like he had sprouted a tail. Where were these manners suddenly coming from? And Rhys sounded so genuine.

Nyra’s body dipped a bit and she closed her eyes in return to Rhys’s bow. She was now confused. Wasn’t Feyre in love with the High Lord of the Spring Court? Then why was the High Lord of the Night Court here with her? Regardless, she gave him a polite smile. “It’s nice to meet you too. Apologies for not dressing properly. I had already retired for the night.”

“That is no issue, my lady. It is we who should be apologising for our unplanned visit.” Rhys bowed again to Nyra, albeit not as low as he had during his own introduction. Only he knew that the difference in his manners was because of the difference in the levels of affection Feyre had when she spoke of each of her sisters.

“That is of no issue. Please. Call me Nyra.”

“Certainly.” Nyra nodded and then moved to the seat at the head of the table.

“Shall we?” She looked around and then sat. Everyone took their seats. In a bold move that did not make her faint, Elain took the first dish and passed it on and soon, the foods were served in all plates except Nyra’s.

“Will you not be dining with us?” Azriel asked when he noticed Nyra’s empty plate.

“I have had my dinner and my medicine. I cannot take more food so soon.” She replied and then waited. He had yet to introduce himself whereas her name, it seemed, was already known among the fae.

“Pardon me,” Azriel stood up and bowed. “My name is Azriel.” He felt a tad bit awkward for not having introduced himself. And even more awkward because the first thing he said to Nyra Archeron resulted in a reminder of her illness.

“Please do not bow. In fact, let’s skip the formalities. Nice to meet you, Azriel. My name is Nyra. And would you and your friend like stools? We have never had winged people visit us. I’m not sure if the chairs are comfortable for you.”

“We are fine, my lady.”

“Are you sure? And my name is Nyra.” She had the oddest feeling rise within her. The need to tease this man. He was as flustered as a boy who was going through puberty.

“Completely sure,” The shadow singer paused for a second before saying her name. “Nyra.” It felt like a test to see how her name would be on his tongue. He liked it. And from her warm gaze, it seemed she liked it too.

She looked at Cassian who grinned at her. “My name is Cassian.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Cassian.” Her smile seemed to brighten as the fae introduced themselves and she took it with no hostility and greeted them like people. Cassian decided he liked her despite the growing sense of something that bloomed within him. It felt a lot like meeting a polite version of Rhys.

When Feyre took her first few bites of her food and grimaced, Nyra noticed. “Are you alright?”

“Is there something wrong with our food?” With Nesta’s question came a wave of awkward silence.

“No.” Feyre took a huge gulp of her water. It was too evident that she was forcing herself to eat.

“So you can’t eat normal food anymore—or are you too good for it?” Nesta posed a question and a challenge. A challenge Feyre had accepted out of habit. A challenge that had Nyra putting her hand on her forehead in anticipated exasperation.

“I can eat, drink, fuck and fight just as well as I did before. Better-“

“Mind your manners, the both of you.” Nyra’s sharp tone cut in between. With a gentle yet strict tone, she addressed the youngest sister first. “Feyre, if you don’t want to eat or cannot eat due to any reason, don’t force yourself but that is no excuse for your foul language. Nesta,” She turned to her twin. “That is no way to talk to your sister even if you have your queries about why she is not able to eat well.”

“I’m sorry, Feyre.” Nesta sounded like a thoroughly scolded child now. The situation became even more surprising when Feyre gave out a similar sounding apology for her language. Elain seemed to be more at ease now that something familiar had presented itself—even if it was her sisters at each other’s throats.

Rhysand, despite his growing fury, somehow gathered himself to address Nesta. “If you ever come to Pythian, you will discover why your food tastes so different.”

“I have little interest in ever setting foot in your land, so I’ll have to take your word on it.”

“Nesta, please,” Elain’s plea went into deaf ears when said sister realised Cassian was looking at her. She angled her body towards him properly.

“What are you looking at?”

“Someone who let her youngest sister risk her life every day in the word while she did nothing. Someone who let a fourteen-year-old child go out into that forest, so close to the wall. Your sister died—died to save my people. She is willing to do so again to protect you from war. So don’t expect me to sit here with my mouth shut while you sneer at her for a choice she idd not get to make—and insult my people in the process.”

Cassian's words had everyone at the edge. Rhys was angry. Azriel was ready to intercept if a physical brawl began. With Nesta, it seemed like that was a huge possibility. Nesta seemed like she'd been born to fight and not to sit around like a proper lady. That seemed more like Elain but this one looked like she'd lost her appetite.

Nesta breathed once, looked at Cassian with the same fighting spirit that had risen in his bones and then turned away like he had never even spoken. Dismissed his entire existence. He was used to people cursing at him. Calling him a bastard. Calling him anything and everything. He was used to fighting and being fought against. Not at all used to being ignored, especially by the person sitting next to him.

Rhysand blinked once to process what had happened. Cassian had insulted Nesta and she had ignored him. Despite the anger rising at the truth of what his brother said, he did find the humour in the situation. Sitting next to him, Feyre coughed to the side, masking her laugh. Azriel couldn't help but smirk.

Nyra tried hard to control her laughter at Cassian's entirely feral expression upon being dismissed. She knew she had a bad habit of laughing at the wrong time. She looked around seeing how she could control it. The mischievous gleam in Rhysand's eyes was definitely not going to help. His grin was even more of an indication that she had chosen the wrong person to look at in this moment of tension between the two individuals who seemed like they could spit fire and claw into each other.

Nyra accidentally let out a laugh and then intentionally coughed thrice to cover her slip up. Her twin was immediately by her side, taking her hand and telling her to drink water. Nyra was sure she would spit it out because both Nesta and Cassian were now looking at her. And there was no way she would not laugh. She looked at Feyre whose eyes twinkled like Rhys's own. The youngest understood her predicament but she pretended not to. Azriel was smirking and she wanted to spit that water in his face to wipe off his smirk.

Despite living for more than five hundred years, Azriel felt like he had never seen a female before he saw Nyra Archeron for the first time. And he continued to watch her like he was seeing for the very first time how a female walked and talked and breathed. He was quite amused when she laughed and then pretended to cough. She would probably laugh again with how worriedly Nesta and Cassian were looking at her.

He felt everything more acutely than he had ever felt. He was a shadowsinger and those shadows told him everything. And he did feel things others did not. But this. The intensity of his own awareness alarmed him. He was suddenly aware of every breath everyone took. Every rustle of clothes. Every sound of cutlery. The sound of the food being chewed. And he could even hear his own heartbeat. It had changed slightly. The rhythm of it. He did not understand why or how. And another heartbeat. So soothingly familiar.

New shadows were now being born. They started from behind his neck. His shoulders and his hands. He noticed them only when he saw them circling his arms. Azriel knew he had left behind his shadows. Cassian was now looking at him with a raised brow and then motioned to the new shadows. He felt a gentle brush against his mental wards.

Didn’t you leave behind your shadows? Rhysand sounded confused. He had every reason to be.

Azriel himself was confused. I did. These were born just now as we started eating.

Rhysand left the compound of Azriel’s mind and the shadowsinger put up his shields. The High Lord did not know there could be newborn shadows. But then again, what did he know of shadows and shadowsinger’s except for whatever Azriel disclosed.

“What are those?” Elain’s question had everybody’s attention diverted to the newborn shadows.

“My shadows.” Azriel looked down at the black swirling around him as he answered. And then they slowly danced forward, slithering through the air towards the center of the table from where they took a sharp turn—towards Nyra.

“Pull them back.” Nesta demanded, deeming them to be a potential danger to Nyra. Azriel nodded her and willed for it but the shadows moved forward. They coiled themselves around her wrist and Nyra took her other hand to touch the shadows. They froze in place. And then they danced. Azriel could hear their cries of delight at being touched by her and he could not comprehend anything else.

Wordlessly, she continued playing with them, not bothering to see anyone looking at her with shock on their faces. Rhysand quickly looked back at Azriel who looked uncharacteristically shy.

“The queens,” Nyra began, still occupied with the shadows with faint amusement. Everyone was now listening. “Have recently had a conflict of interest. I believe one of them, the youngest, has been somehow pushed out of the picture.”

“How do you know that?” Cassian asked, receiving a glare from Nesta for speaking as he chewed his food. He seemed to revel in angering the fiery one among the twins.

“I saw a few letters. Wrote a few letters. Received a few letters. Sent a few replies. And so on and so on.” She rested her elbow on the table and lifted her hand. The shadows curled around her hand and stretched upwards. She smiled then. Azriel felt like something incredibly intimate had happened.

“Do you think a request for an artefact will be granted?” Nyra then looked at Rhys.

“The Book of Breathings?” Nyra’s mention of the book had Cassian drop his fork. “Are you alright?” She immediately turned to him and asked. The shadows froze when Nyra stopped playing with them.

Cassian sputtered a few apologies and took another fork from the cutlery stand in the middle of the table. He asked. “How do you know of the book?”

“I know of a few things.” She looked amused. Cassian shuddered at how eerily Nyra sounded like Rhysand whenever he kept secrets he did not ever want to divulge. The shadows around her arm made it seem like she fit the part. Like she could tame darkness and make it reveal whatever it concealed. She looked at the frozen shadows and gave them her hand again. She began moving her fingers slowly like how one would pet a cat. The shadows curled around them and Azriel felt their delight. "But that doesn't really help us right now. You will face far worse prejudices outside this house."

"How worse?" It was Elain who then answered Rhysand. She told him about how hard it is for the humans to accept fae due to their upbringing with all the stories about the fae crossing the wall to hurt humans. She gave the example of Clare Beddor and explained how disorienting it was.

By the end of her explanation, Elain felt a little brave. Like she achieved a milestone by talking to them. It was her personal success no matter how easily her sisters had done that. This was hers. And hers alone. Elain then addressed Cassian with newfound courage about what she had to say about Feyre hunting for their family.

"It was not Nesta's neglect alone that is to blame. We were scared, and had received no training, and everything had been taken, and we failed her. Her and Nyra."

Nyra's amused smile had vanished. She looked contemplative but was still playing with the shadows. Elain looked at her and knew how hopelessly she had neglected in contributing to the household during their days of poverty.

Feyre grabbed Nesta's hand and squeezed it slowly. "Can we just... start over?" She felt Nesta's pride war with Cassian's taunts, ready to take the bait with a bite that promised pain. But then Nesta agreed and Elain continued conversation.

"Can you truly fly?" Elain looked at Azriel who had been looking at Nyra and his shadows. He seemed fascinated by the one who brought such joy to his newborn shadows.

The shadowsinger looked at the gentle girl before replying. "Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We're born hearing the song of the wind." As though he felt it, Azriel looked over at Nyra who was now smiling at the shadows. Elain followed his gaze and watched her sister at the head of the table. Elain felt something in that gaze, the promise of something, perhaps more beautiful than the song of the wind. She felt a little more at ease, hoping that this feeling about whatever it was with Azriel and Nyra would remain and that this beautiful feeling would bless them.

"Song of the wind." Nyra repeated. "That sounds like a dream." Then she looked at all three men and asked. "But then how are you all so different?"

"How are we different?" Azriel asked, not quite understanding what she was getting at.

"Rhysand has pointed ears but the two of you don't. Azriel and his shadows." She raised her hands. "And Cassian doesn't have shadows. And Rhys doesn't wear seven gems like the two of you."

"I am what you would call a half breed." Rhysand announced, completely unbothered by how demeaning it sounded even when he was using the term to refer to himself.

"I don't think I've ever heard someone insult themselves so easily." Nyra looked at Rhysand with an expression of disbelief. Azriel coughed to disguise a laugh that had escaped him. Cassian did not even bother and laughed heartily.

Rhys chuckled. "I meant that I am half Illyrian and half High Fae."

"You look like High Fae," Nesta cut in, looking at Feyre. "But you're not?"

"Only the High Fae who look like them, are High Fae. Everyone else, any other differences, mark you as what they like to call 'lesser' faeries." Cassian explained. Nesta still did not look at him.

"It's become a term used for ease, but masks a long, bloody history of injustices. Many lesser faeries resent the term—and wish for us all to be called one thing." Rhysand sounded like he was used to talking about this subject and had thought about it for quite some time. Could be a few centuries since fae did probably live that long.

"Rightly so," Cassian raised his glass before drinking his water.

"But you were not High Fae—not to begin. So what do they call you?" Nesta's question sounded like something tiptoeing the lines of genuine curiosity and mockery.

"Feyre is whoever she chooses to be."

After Rhys had answered in Feyre's stead, Nesta examined all of them. She then told them to write their letter which the sisters would go and dispatch tomorrow. "And contemplate how you plan to get us all out of this mess should things go sour."

They discussed bedroom arrangements for the fae and then Nesta took one look at Nyra. Despite playing with the shadows, her twin's stare was too intense to be ignored. Nyra looked at her twin. Some silent form of communication began. None of the others ever understood how two people so unlike each other ever understood each other. But with one stare that lasted just a second, Nyra then turned to no one in particular.

"Shall we rise if everyone's done eating?" And that was dinner time.

****

While Nesta, Nyra and Elain washed the dishes, Rhysand wrote the letter while discussing with Feyre, Cassian and Azriel. They knew that this would not be the final draft and that they would have to stay up for a long time. Their discussions paused when the sisters started laughing and shrieking. The twins had started splashing droplets on each other while washing the dishes and Elain now felt fed up. She grabbed the two of them by the ear and took them to the sofa next to the table where Rhys had been stationed.

"If you're going to delay washing the dishes then don't even enter the kitchen." Elain put her hands on her hips and spoke determinedly and completely annoyed at her older sisters who acted more like children no older than ten. The twins muttered their apologies.

"The two of you are going to sit here while I get the work done." And with that, Elain spun on her heel and worked on the dishes. Feyre stood up, stating that he would like to help. Elain reluctantly accepted and they began washing the dishes without conversation.

Nesta and Nyra looked like a pair of petulant girls who had been forbidden from something they loved. And Rhysand looked thoroughly amused. "And why were you two splashing water?"

"She's a grumpy cat. Ignore her." Nyra looked at Nesta with equal amusement as her twin glared at Rhysand for even daring to ask a question.

"You said something about the queens and their internal discord. Could you share more?" Azriel's request had earned him a look of surprise and a smile from Nyra that had suddenly taken all his attention. The shadows that had briefly left her when she had left to wash the dishes returned to her. They settled around her shoulders, hands and waist like a child. And Nyra's gaze was a gentle one for the shadows. And she began narrating every detail she knew.

****

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[sarahs-library]

Forgotten: Pretty Eyes

"You have such pretty eyes," Azriel's thumb dragged your lower lip down, his husky baritone stoked the fire of arousal coursing in your veins. "I can't wait to see you looking up at me, with my cock in your mouth."

A/N - Forgotten is giving me serious writer's block right now, so here's a little smutty snippet from the same universe before the story begins. You aren't together yet, the bond has snapped for Azriel but you remain blissfully unaware. Also I love the idea of meddling Nesta. This is also my first time publishing any smut, so hopefully it doesn't seem as cringey to you as it did to me re-reading it.

Word count: 4704

Warnings: Smut

Forgotten Part One ☪ Part Two ☪ Part Three

Your POV

Settled into the plush leather couch, you pulled the blanket up to your chin, creating a cozy nest for yourself. You balanced the book Nesta had given you on your lap, the worn cover a familiar weight against your skin. The floral sundress you wore fluttered around your legs, exposing the delicate skin of your knees, which you instinctively tucked beneath the warm embrace of the blanket. Once comfortable, you flipped open the hardcover to read the synopsis inlaid on the first page and snorted. Gratuitous smut, that much was predictable. But the story revolved around fated mates who couldn’t stay away from each other, despite every glaringly obvious reason to. Her recent recommendations had all centered on this theme, which you found puzzling. You couldn’t understand the Fae’s obsession with them, or Nesta’s for that matter.

Sure, you understood the religious aspect, most cultures had deities or worshipped magic in some form. Prythian’s Mother was no different in your eyes from the innumerable nameless gods you’d encountered in your travels over the years. But even so, the Fae's sanctification of basic biology was unique. You cleared your throat and looked up.

“Excuse me? House?” It felt strange, to address an inanimate object. You hadn’t quite believed Nesta when she first told you the House was sentient, a byproduct of her cauldron-made power. But it had seen to your needs enough over the last few months, often without prompting, that you’d found yourself creating a tentative relationship with it. “Do you have another book for me? Nesta’s been recommending so many of these, I’d rather read something different.” A moment later, a small pile of books dropped onto the table next to you. You thanked the House as you reached for the top book on the pile.

A God cursed to remain locked in his mountain hold until his soulmate frees him…You stopped reading with a frown, setting the book aside with the other before taking the next one. And then the next. You reached the end of the pile, all books about soulmates or fated mates or love pairs. Maybe the House had misunderstood you. You gathered the books up again, this time placing the one Nesta had lent you at the top of the pile and addressed the House again.

“Sorry, I meant do you have anything different than a romance? Maybe something with a bit of action and adventure?” The pile didn’t vanish, no other books appeared either. You waited for a few seconds. “House?” You knew it was close with Nesta, perhaps you’d offended it by inadvertently insulting her reading tastes.

You considered getting up from the comfy nest you’d created in the sitting room to go to the library and pick something off the shelves yourself. You eyed the book at the top of the pile again and sighed. Grabbing it you cracked open to the first page. Only then did the pile vanish, you couldn’t help rolling your eyes. In its place stood a glass filled with fruity, fizzing pink wine from the Summer Court. It knew that you preferred it to the heartier reds more commonly found in the Night Court. You thanked the House and took a sip from the wine glass before turning your attention to the book propped open against your knees.

A dull pain in your neck drew you from sleep. Your dry eyes adjusted to the low lighting as you began to sit up. You groaned and massaged the sore muscles in your neck and shoulder, cursing yourself for falling asleep in such an awkward position. The book, still open at the last page you were reading, slipped from your lap and hit the floor with a dull thud. Fae light housed in a dark glass shade flickered to life on the table next to your empty wine glass. Freeing the blanket from where it was tangled between your legs, you bent to retrieve the book from the floor. The hand you reached out stopped shy of the cover, the tips of your fingers brushing against the shadows that teeming it, burrowing under the pages.  

They didn’t shy away from your touch. Instead, they pushed the book across the floor into your open hand. You grasped at the leather-bound spine, cool shadows curling between your fingers and sliding up the back of your hand.

“Thank you.” You inclined your head and righted yourself on the sofa, expecting them to disperse in search of their master.

“Don’t tell me you’ve joined Nesta’s smutty book club too.” Reflectively you gripped the book tighter as the voice came from behind you. After months of living together at the House, you were beginning to be able to decipher Azriel’s moods. Smooth, dark, and low his tone of voice rarely gave away what he was feeling. But the slight elongation of some vowels and the emphasis on the word smutty told you he was amused. A delicate flush rose on your cheeks, and you resolved not to look at him.         

“I mostly go for the wine. But Nesta said this was one of her favourites, though I’m not sure why.” The shadows that had helped you retrieve the book began to climb up over the edge of the sofa, to investigate further as you held it in your lap. You could feel him inching closer behind you, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Satisfied with their investigation, or at whatever silent command Azriel gave them, the shadows began to return to his side. You were unsure of how cognizant they were. As one of them brushed against the soft skin of your thigh, exposed from where your dress had ridden up, you wondered if it was intentional. You were glad to not see his face. Not while his shadows snitched to him about the colour dusting your cheeks and the very long, very explicit description of the mating frenzy between the main characters you’d been reading before you fell asleep.

“Too tame for you, sweetheart?” You’d been playing this game for weeks now. Glances that lingered a hair too long to be appropriate. Comments that bordered on suggestive but still gave plausible deniability. Any excuse to touch, to feel the other’s skin as you passed a dish at family dinner or assisted Azriel with demonstrations for the priestesses.

And you hated it, the effect he had on you. You knew, somewhere deep inside in a place you didn’t want to acknowledge, that he was part of the reason you’d taken advantage of Rhys’ hospitality. Why you hadn’t been itching to leave, to find another place after you landed unceremoniously, bleeding and half-conscious, in the Night Court all those months ago.

You sighed. “No, it’s not that.” Azriel was standing directly behind you now. When you took your next breath his scent, night-chilled mist and cedar, filled your nose. “I know she and Cassian are disgustingly in love, but I’d prefer her to give me at least one recommendation that doesn’t revolve and two people finding out they are mates, and then fucking for the next 100 pages.”

Azriel made a low, humming sound. Not in agreement, but in consideration of what you said. You thought he was going to speak, grace you with a sarcastic remark. Instead, he leaned over the back of the sofa. His face was so perilously close to your neck that you could feel the hot breath he exhaled, as he plucked the open book from your lap. He retreated as quickly as he’d come; you instinctively turned, reaching one hand up to stabilise yourself against the plush leather.

His hazel eyes met yours, and the triumphant smirk he gave you ignited both irritation and something primal. Held aloft in one hand, he lifted the book to his eyeline as the shadows flicked swiftly through the pages. Landing on the passage he wanted, he began to read aloud.           

“His manhood was hot and hard and thick with lust. He pounded into her rough and ready, their gasps puffing in the air, steam rising off their skin.” Your cheeks flushed deeper. You hauled yourself up the back of the sofa, resting on your knees, attempting to use the leverage to lessen the advantage his greater height gave him. Reaching out, you tried to snatch the book from his grasp only for him to move it away just as your fingers brushed against the cover. He took a half-step back, still within arm’s length but not close enough for you to reach without losing your balance.

Azriel arched a brow, eyes alight with thinly veiled amusement as he took in your flushed face. You noticed the way they strayed, just for a moment, following the path of your exposed neck down towards your chest. A traitorous part of you preened under the attention of his gaze. Instinct prompted you to press the advantage he’d unwittingly given you, using the moment of his distraction to vault over the back of the sofa and close the distance between you. Azriel’s wings flared behind him, but he didn’t retreat from the sudden proximity, even as your hand reached up to grasp the book over his own.

Dragging his eyes away from you, he feigned nonchalance as he continued to skim the pages of the book. You realised your mistake then, calf muscles straining to keep your weight steady as you stood frozen on arched feet. His eyes didn’t leave the page even as his other hand came up to rest on your hip. The fabric of your dress felt dangerously thin as the warmth from his palm and slightly splayed fingers seeped through. Thin enough to feel the callouses on the finger that skimmed tantalisingly close to the edge of your underwear.

“The male says such filthy things.” He allowed you to pull the book down but didn’t relinquish his grip. Hazel eyes met yours, darkened even in the fae light. Slowly lowering your weight back onto the balls of your feet, you held his gaze. You were acutely aware of how little space was left between the two of you. Cool shadows brushed against the bare skin of your legs, catching on the hem of your dress and skirting at your waist. The breath you inhaled, made ragged by the proximity, filled your lungs with Azriel’s scent. Lust fogged your thoughts, quietening the voice in your mind that warned you of the precipice you teetered on. Even through the haze, you recognised there would be no going back, not once you acted on this.

“Do you like it when your lovers speak to you like this, sweetheart?” His voice, guttural and slow, seemed to speak directly to the embers now burning within you. He edged closer, enough that the fabric of your dress brushed against the scaled leather on his chest. You backed away, even as you felt your body react, but kept your eyes trained on Azriel’s face. His shadows returned to him, agitating a breeze that carried the unmistakable scent of your arousal. Azriel inhaled deeply, savouring it like a man half-drowned. His gaze became predatory as he prowled closer to you.

You felt the brush of cool leather against the heated skin of your back and the curve of your buttocks. He stepped closer, muscular arms brushing your waist on either side as he rested his hands on the sofa, caging you in. You held his gaze, even as he lowered his face close enough that your breath mingled. You tried to grasp at something, formulate a scathing remark that would disseminate the tension, that would allow you to step out of this room with your friendship still intact. All you could focus on was how easy it would be to reach up, tangle your fingers into Azriel’s hair, and bring his face down to close the distance between your lips. The corner of his mouth quirked up into a smirk and he feigned closing the distance, tilting his head before passing over your mouth and whispering in your ear.  

“You haven’t answered my question.” His breath danced over the shell of your ear, and you fought against the urge to arch your back and press yourself into his chest. His lips ghosted over the skin of your neck as he traced the curve down to where it met your collarbone.

“My preferences regarding lovers are of no concern to you.” He stilled against you.

“Is that so?” The words caressed your skin, drawled and meant to provoke as he made the return journey back towards your lips. You managed a breathy affirmation, even as he trailed fire in his wake. The barest of touches, feeding your desire for more of them, more of him. You didn’t notice the hand until his palm slid up to rest on the side of your neck, gripping your jaw between scarred fingers and thumb. His grip was firm as he pulled back to look at you.  

“Such lies from such a sweet, little mouth.” His thumb stroked a path up, sweeping across your plump lower lip. You parted them on instinct. Lust-darkened eyes met your own, and a moment of clarity passed between you both. One that spoke of more than just base needs or primal instincts. Hiding in his eyes was a promise of more. Something that neither of you were ready to address just yet.

"You have such pretty eyes," Azriel's thumb dragged your lower lip down, his husky baritone stoked the fire of arousal coursing in your veins. "I can't wait to see you looking up at me, with my cock in your mouth." His other hand moved to your hip as he trailed his thumb down, palm splayed as he traced your jaw; your neck to where the cut of your dress lay at the valley between your breasts. He toyed with the edge before moving his hand to trace down your other side, thumb brushing the underside of the swell of flesh you desperately wanted him to pay more attention to.

His grip tightened for a moment at your waist before he hoisted you into the air. You gasped in surprise at the sudden movement before he perched you precariously on the edge of the back of the sofa. The increased height made your face almost level with his, something that Azriel took full advantage of as he captured your lips with his own. Your hands moved to steady yourself on his broad shoulders, fingernails digging into the leather as you swept your tongue against his bottom lip. You opened your thighs in invitation, Azriel stepped closer so that your chest was flush with his. His hips settled between your legs; your thighs clenched on either side as he deepened the kiss. His skilled tongue stroked against your own as you moaned, breathing heavily through your nose.

His fingers tangled into your hair, pulling it aside as his other hand moved down from your waist to trace a path under your dress against the smooth skin of your inner thigh. His mouth left yours, moving to capture the soft skin of your neck, lathing his tongue against it in between delicate bites as his fingers slid higher on your thigh. You rolled your hips, trying to coax him as his fingertips grazed lace. You slid your hands over his shoulders, finding purchase as you pulled him closer. You felt him smile against your neck as he trailed kisses lower, freeing his hand from your hair, as he pulled the delicate fabric of your dress down roughly to expose your chest. You barely registered the sound of it tearing as one hand came up to clasp your breast, thumb running over the peaked nipple as he bent further to capture the other between his lips.

You groaned as he continued to nip and suckle and bite at the pert bud, hazel eyes observed your through dark lashes as you arched into him, bringing one hand up to tangle into his dark locks. He groaned against your skin as you pulled at it, moaning his name in between panted breaths.

“Fuck, Az. Please…” he sucked hard on the nipple caught between his lips, releasing it with an obscene pop and a parting flick of his tongue against the tip.

“Please what, sweetheart?” His mouth moved to capture the nipple under the ministrations of his thumb, the callouses rubbing deliciously against the sensitive skin. Words died on the tip of your tongue as the fingers dancing beneath your skirt finally brushed against sodden fabric, rubbing against the slick folds of your pussy. He grunted in approval as he continued to probe, pushing a finger into your aching hole as much as the lace would allow. You moved your hand from his shoulder, taking advantage of his bent position to trace two knuckles against the dark membrane of a wing.

Azriel’s growl was feral as he bucked his hips. His mouth left your breast to kiss up your neck, teeth scratching against the pulse thrumming at your jugular.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a wicked, wicked tease?” His lips once again met your own in a rough, opened-mouthed kiss. You purposely dragged your knuckles back over his wing, it flared out under your touch as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth. You pulled back, your lip catching before he released you. He stared at you, panting and pupils blown wide. You smirked as you put your hand back on his shoulder, resolving to explore the sensitive expanse of his wings further another time. You trailed your fingers down, feeling the hard expanse of muscles on his chest and abdomen before settling on the strings of his leather breeches.   

“I may have heard something like that before.” You pulled at the knot, struggling to undo it with just one hand. Azriel’s hand left your breast, placing it over your own to still the movements. You furrowed your brow, questioning him with a gaze as he made no move to help.

“There’s something I need to do first.” He stepped back, moving out of your reach as you planted your hands on either side of the sofa to steady yourself. His wings flared for balance as he slowly lowered himself to one knee, then the other, maintaining eye contact with you as his hands slid under your dress. Tracing up to your hips he caught hold of the lace of your panties, slowly pulling them over your thighs and past your knees to drop over your bare feet onto the floor. His eyes never left yours as he rucked the thin skirt up to your waist, leaving you panting and exposed under his gaze. His eyes trailed down slowly as if committing the sight of you to memory, taking special note of the flush on your neck and chest, littered with a constellation of bruises he had sucked onto your skin. Lower still, until his gaze came to rest between your legs, fixated on the way your cunt glistened in the fae light.

“I can’t tell you how often I’ve dreamed of this.” He ran the back of his hand down the side of your thigh as you opened your legs wider for him to nestle his shoulders between your knees. “Of how you taste, what you’d look like underneath me, the sounds you’d make when you cum for me.” He made sure to catch your gaze again as he lowered his mouth towards your slick folds. The hand that wasn't tracing your thigh moved to part your lips as his tongue delves between them. He moaned against you at that first taste. Dragging his tongue in a long sensual stroke up, barely brushing the edge of your clit before returning to tease at your entrance. Biting your lip your hands found his hair, wrenching him closer as you slid your knees over his shoulders. He cupped your arse, rough fingers digging into supple flesh as he fucked you with his tongue. Languid strokes that brushed his nose against your clit every time he pushed in deeper.

You moaned, grinding against his face, the hand not tangled in his hair circled at your nipple still coated in his saliva. His tongue slid up through the wetness to toy with your clit, circling dangerously around the edges before he caught it between his lips, suckling on it hard. You cried out his name at the delicious pressure, bordering on pain, his eyes watching you through dark lashes as you writhe and grind against him. He releases your clit, pulling back after a small gentle parting lick.

“Look at you.” His thumb moves up to trace your clit. He looked debauched, lips swollen and pink, chin soaked with your pleasure. “Such a pretty little cunt.” His thumb slides down through your wetness as he teases it through your puffy folds. “So wet for me, just begging to be fucked.” You felt your pussy clench as he traced past the hole, dipping further down in between your cheeks to toy with the wetness around the puckered ring of muscle there. He returned torturously slowly to where you needed him most, before plunging one finger deep inside of you. You moaned at the intrusion as he curled his finger up, rubbing purposely against the sensitive wall before pulling out. He added another finger to the first, inserting them at the same glacial pace, finally looking away from your face as he watched your walls stretch to accommodate his thick fingers. It wasn’t enough, you needed more of him.

“Please,” you begged, tugging at his hair. “Please Az, I need more. I need…” You trailed off as another finger slid into your tight hole, the pace still slow as he watched you grind your hips against his hand, trying to fuck his fingers deeper and faster into you.

“Whatever my beautiful-“He stopped himself, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard, eyes on your face again. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.” And with that promise, he lowered his mouth to your cunt again. The speed of his fingers increased, fucking into you with abandon as he caught your clit between his lips once more, licking and sucking, dragging his teeth gently over the sensitive nerves. He skilfully brought you to the precipice of your release, alternating between curling his fingers and lathing his tongue against your clit before slowing down. You keened, undulating your hips against his face and hand. Shadows bled out the sofa, fixing your hips down as he continued to tease.

“I need to see you cum for me.” He growled against you before pressing himself deeper into your folds. Your legs shook as his fingers fucked you harder, as his mouth latched onto your clit with a hard suck. His hazel eyes were fixed on your face, watching as you climbed towards your peak. Your grip tightened on his hair as your release built. Until finally, it snapped. Sending you careening toward the most exquisite bliss you had experienced in your immortal life.

“Azriel! Oh Gods…” Your legs shifted on his shoulders as your muscles clenched under your release, trapping his head between your thighs. He continued to lick and suck you gently as you came down from your pleasure, fingers moving at a more leisurely pace now as he watched you, eyes filled with lust and awe. You relaxed slowly under his ministrations, enough to begin to bring you towards pleasure again despite how oversensitive your nerves felt. You unhooked your legs from his shoulders as you moved your hands towards them, pulling as his leathers. He released you from his mouth, pulling his fingers out and admiring the wetness left on his hand rolling down towards his wrist. He rose, allowing you to capture his face between your hands in a searing kiss. You groaned at the taste of it, both of you mingled together on the tongue he stroked slowly against yours.

Moving your hands down you broke the kiss, nestling into his neck and tracing the dark marks of his tattoos with your tongue. Under both your hands the knot holding his leathers closed came away easily. You pushed your fingers under the tight band, grazing the head of his cock with your thumb. Azriel panted into your shoulder, his grip on your waist tight as you continued to tease the head, rubbing circles slick with pre-cum into the sensitive skin.

Azriel became rigid under your touch. You pulled away from his neck, from marking him with bruises similar to the ones on your own, to look at his face. A dark tendril curled around his ear, whispering to the shadowsinger. His face darkened and he let out a vicious curse, pulling away from you and turning his attention towards the foyer.

You could hear footsteps now, heading in your direction. Azriel was a picture, rock hard against his leathers, hair a mess from where you’d carted your fingers through it, full lips swollen and red. You looked down at yourself, bare breasts peeking through the ripped fabric of your dress, skirt rucked up still baring your cunt to the room.

“Y/N! I know you’re here. You’re keeping us all waiting.” Nesta was in the hallway now, heading towards the only way in or out of the sitting room. You slipped off the back of the sofa, righting your dress and trying to pull the ripped fabric of the bodice closed with little success. Azriel’s eyes had turned calculating, all trace of lingering lust gone as he ran through possible ways to get you both out of this situation. If you were anywhere else, he could have winnowed you away. You cursed whichever of Rhys predecessors put such stringent security measures on the House to a painful eternity in Hel.

Shadows moved to open the large windows next to the fireplace to let in a breeze, biting cold and pushed through the room as Azriel’s siphons glowed. A fire started to burn, smoking more than normal, its acrid smell filling your nose. Azriel gestured to the sofa, the blanket still coiled on the seats.

“Get under.” You moved quickly, throwing yourself down as you used the blanket to cover up your ruined dress and bruises. Azriel strode toward the window, taking one glance back as you tried to settle yourself before he slipped out into the sky and the fading light. You rested your head against the cool arm of the leather, bringing your legs under the blanket as you feigned sleep.

Nesta’s footsteps stopped at the threshold of the open door.

“Y/N.”

You let out a low groan, stretching as you pretended to drag yourself from sleep. You rose so only your face was visible over the back of the sofa, blanket clutched to your chest as you took in Nesta standing in the doorway. Her silver eyes scanned your face as her nose wrinkled at the smell of the poorly burning fire.

“You’re late.” Silver burned in the eyes she fixed on you, angered at the perceived social slight.

“I’m sorry, I was reading. Must have fallen asleep.” Your heart pounded as she assessed you. You hoped she’d put it down to the shock of being rudely woken rather than your anxiety at being almost caught.

“Everyone’s waiting in the library, let’s go.” You nodded in agreement, mind whirring as you tried to figure out a way out of the room, out of your ruined clothes with the reek of arousal still clinging to your skin, without raising any suspicions.

“I’ll um, meet you there. I just want to quickly freshen up and grab the book from my room.” Nesta’s eyes scanned you, before inclining her head and turning to leave.

“Five minutes,” she ordered as she left, “or we’ll start without you.” You collapsed back into the sofa, relief flooding your veins as you tried to calm your breathing. You hadn’t noticed the way her eyes had fixed on the dark lace half-hidden underneath the sofa before she left.

Thank you for reading, to everyone who asked to be added to the tag-list I think I've included everyone I can but some blogs I couldn't tag so apologies if that's yours.

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[shadowdaddies]

Hi!! I adore your writing! I would love if you wrote a story with Azriel, where reader (mated with Az ) hears the IC talking about someone being clingy/annoying, and she thinks it’s her, so she withdraws herself entirely, even from Az and he finally finds out and explains they were talking about someone else, and then fluff. Love you!

hi! thank you for the request, love you!💜 (Madja stans if you're out there, maybe avoid this one)

Family

Azriel x Reader (ft. the IC and Valkyries)

You had only been mated to Azriel for about six months now, but the way that the Inner Circle had accepted you as part of the family immediately meant the world to you. You had struggled much of your life with friends and family making you feel like you were clingy, or a burden when you spent ‘too much’ time with them, so being able to be around your new family in Velaris was a breath of fresh air, lifting a weight off your chest for the first time in years.

Skipping down the stairs to join your family for dinner, you heard them from where they were already seated at the table. You froze in your tracks when you heard the words spill from Feyre’s mouth. “I know, she can be quite overbearing. It was tiresome when I had to see her so much before. I’m glad I’ve had a break from her visits, at least for the time being.” 

Tears sprang to your eyes as everyone around the table laughed at the comment, Nesta adding to the insult. “Well, I have no way of avoiding her, at least for now.” It felt as though your heart was caving in, completely crushed by Nesta’s words in particular. You had enjoyed starting training with the Valkyries lately, and you thought of the other females as your friends. 

Unable to hear anymore of their jokes, you covered your ears, running back upstairs to your room and locking the door behind you. Not a moment later, Azriel knocked on the door. “My love, is everything alright?” 

Sniffling through your silent cries, you refused to be any more of a burden than you apparently were. “I’m fine, Az. I’m just not feeling well, so I thought I would go to bed early.” 

There was a long silence before you heard a soft sigh through the door. “Okay. I’ll bring you some leftovers. Please let me know if you need anything from me, angel.”

Once you knew Azriel was back downstairs, you let the tears out. Yet again, you were unwanted, and it hurt that much worse to know that your mate was sitting at that table as well. If he didn’t defend you, he must feel the same way. After crying out every tear you could produce, you found yourself exhausted, sleep claiming you quickly. 

You awoke the next morning to a pounding on your door, a nervous Nesta on the other side. “Hey, are you in there? We missed you at training today. I had some things I was hoping to talk to you about.” 

You scoffed internally at her claims, knowing exactly how untrue they were after her words last night. Managing to produce a fake cough, you responded in a weak voice. “I’m just not feeling well. I’m sleeping but maybe we can talk later.” 

The sorrow was palpable in Nesta’s tone. “Okay then. I hope you feel better. Please let me know if I can do anything for you,” she said softly, before walking away.

Unable to be around these people any longer, you put on a coat and headed out for a walk along the Sidra, the fresh air helping to clear your spiraling thoughts. None of it made sense - they seemed so truly happy to spend time with you, so why would your family say those things? 

Just as you started to question everything, shadows swirled in front of you, your mate appearing with concern clear in his hazel eyes. “Love, what is going on? First you skipped dinner last night, and now Nesta tells me you missed out on Valkyrie training as well. Talk to me.”

Filled with anger, you couldn’t push down your emotions any longer. “I heard you all talking at dinner last night, Azriel!”

Your mate staggered backwards, raw confusion written across his face. “Love, what are you talking about? What about dinner?”

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed at his attempt of evading the conversation, which earned you a rare seething glare from the shadowsinger. “I heard Feyre and Nesta, and all of you laughing. They were talking about how overbearing and tiresome I am, and how Nesta ‘has to spend time’ with me now. And you - you didn’t stand up for me, Azriel.” 

Tears pricked your eyes as you watched his reaction to your words. The confusion, and the realization. Instead of apologizing, Azriel just sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between scarred fingers. You were about to fly into another fit of rage when he spoke. “We weren’t talking about you. With Nesta’s new pregnancy, she is having to see Madja for check-ups often. Even though she has the hips to birth an Illyrian baby, Madja has been very concerned and it’s been driving Nesta crazy. Feyre was talking about the same, with her pregnancy with Nyx.” 

Immediately, you were filled with shame over your assumptions. Burying your head in your hands, the self-loathing came rushing into you with a renewed force. “I’m so sorry, Az. I should’ve known better than to assume - I’m just so used to feeling like a burden and I thought...” 

Azriel stepped forward, wrapping one arm around your waist as the other came to cup your chin, moving your hands away so that he could see your face. “I understand, my love. I know what you feel. But we are your family, and you are not a burden. You are so loved, and I need you to feel comfortable talking to me about these things.” 

You nodded, a soft smile of relief gracing your features as you leaned forward to give Azriel a gentle kiss. He wrapped you in both of his arms, his warm embrace filling you with immediate calm. He pulled back, the smirk on his lips highlighting the dimples that you loved. “You should speak to Nesta.”

You nodded, knowing he was right, and the two of you walked back home hand in hand, enjoying the sunset over the Sidra. When you arrived home, Nesta was waiting in the kitchen, concern etched on her face as she noticed your still-puffy eyes. “Hey, Nes,” you said weakly, and Azriel gave a kiss to your temple before leaving the room.

Nesta stood up, walking over to you with a purpose as she wrapped you in a hug. “I don’t know what you’re going through, but I hope you know that I am here for you, if you ever want to talk.” You nodded, taking a deep breath as you hugged your friend. After a long moment, Nesta pulled back, a smile on her face. “I did need to talk to you about something this morning - if now is a good time.” 

You eagerly nodded, encouraging her to continue as you took a seat next to her at the kitchen table. The beautiful female rested a hand on her stomach, absentmindedly rubbing where her baby rested as she spoke. “Madja wants me to rest from now through the rest of the pregnancy. The girls really love and respect you, so I was hoping that you could take over training them in the meantime.” 

Your heart swelled at her kind words, the affirmation that you needed in that moment. Diving forward, you brought Nesta in for another hug as you nodded, tears lining your eyes yet again. “Yes, Nesta. I’d be so honored to help with training. Thank you.” 

You pulled back, your friend taking your hand in hers as she gave it a reassuring squeeze, just as Rhys and Feyre walked in with Nyx. The little boy ran up to you, “Auntie! I missed you at dinner last night. Uncle Az said your tummy hurt. That happens to me, too.” You laughed at the sweet child, lifting him into your arms for a hug as you followed Rhys, Feyre, and Nesta into the dining room. 

Taking your seat next to Azriel, Rhys poured the wine for everyone - Nesta raising her glass as she proposed a toast to you, one of the new leaders of the Valkyries and a great addition to the family. Leaning into Azriel’s side, you smiled as you looked around at your family - thankful for this unparalleled love, love so great, love that you deserved.