#Pissed Off Azriel

[mirrorballpages]

She would always be worth it. Even if it cost him everything.

Mating bonds were a rarity, a gift whispered of in old tales, a sacred connection that tied two souls together. But for Azriel, they had always seemed like something distant, something meant for others. Not him.

Not until Elain.

Lucien’s declaration that Elain was his mate had hit Azriel harder than any blade ever could. The word echoed in his mind like a curse: Mate. He couldn’t reconcile it. Couldn’t accept it.

It wasn’t just that the bond had been claimed by Lucien—it was that Azriel felt the pull himself. That undeniable hum in his chest whenever he was near her, the inexplicable tether that made him feel as if his world was brighter, fuller, simply by existing in her presence.

How could it not be him?

How could it be Lucien?

Azriel wasn’t a male who took much stock in destiny. He had spent centuries carving his own path, making his own choices, no matter how difficult or bloody they might be. But this? This was something out of his control, something thrust upon him, and it burned.

It wasn’t just jealousy—it was despair.

If the bond was real, if Lucien truly was Elain’s mate, then what was this pull he felt? What was the warmth that bloomed in his chest every time she smiled? What was the gravity that seemed to tether him to her in a way he couldn’t explain?

What did it mean, he wondered, to feel so deeply for someone who might never be yours?

He hated the bond. Hated what it represented. He wanted to tear it apart, to break it, to prove that whatever cosmic force had tied Lucien and Elain together had made a mistake.

But he couldn’t.

And what frightened him most was the thought that Elain might want it. Might choose Lucien.

Azriel couldn’t fault her for that—she deserved happiness, stability, a life untouched by shadows. She deserved warmth and safety and love. But the thought of her finding those things with Lucien instead of him?

It would break him.

He didn’t know how to handle this, how to make sense of a world where Elain Archeron might belong to someone else.

But one thing he did know—he wouldn’t stop caring for her. Wouldn’t stop protecting her. Even if she never chose him, even if she never looked at him the way he looked at her.

She would always be worth it. Even if it cost him everything.

Read The Rest on AO3

[venusin-aries]

Gwynriel’s today feels like a good day to think about the fact Gwyn saw firsthand what Azriel was capable of the moment she met him and she was never frightened of him or his shadows. She was curious about him and then it took her no time at all to start teasing him once they met again.

Gwyn sees Azriel. And has since day one.

I don’t know, sounds like endgame behavior to me. 

[kvsoin]

My bad for thinking that the next book couple would be about Azriel and Elain, even though they have obvious feelings for each other and so many moments between them. I was so delusional as I read the scenes of them and thought the next book would actually be about them, and not about a girl he had about five lines with, or about one interaction from a whole other series with another girl. my fault, my fault.

[ataraxiasflame]

Let’s say that the Az BC was actually a Lucien BC. Let’s say that Lucien had a similar inner monologue during the same interactions with Elain…

…calling her ‘the third’.

…describing touching her as ‘so wrong’.

…emphasizing several times what HE needed from her body.

…claiming he hadn’t thought about a future with Elain beyond the ‘fantasies he pleasured himself to’.

…being willing to kill any other male for showing an interest in her.

Imagine Lucien’s flames becoming embers in Elain’s presence and him pointing it out too.

Imagine Lucien leaving that interaction, after calling almost kissing Elain a mistake, then immediately interacting with another female who caused his chest to spark as he imagined her reaction to receiving the gift he’d originally bought for Elain.

Honestly, even thinking about Lucien doing this gives me the biggest ick, because Lucien would NEVER even think of doing any of this to any female, let alone his mate, but…let’s just consider it.

Can you imagine anyone in the fandom trying to claim that Elain and Lucien were endgame after a BC like this? It would be SO obvious that the author is showing that Elain and Lucien are not compatible beyond their physical attraction even with a bond. No one would be able to argue that the Elucien ship had sunk.

And the way people would rip Lucien to shreds kinda like everyone did to Tamlin for thinking about Elain this way and use it as clear evidence that the bond will be rejected…Even I, a fierce Lucien supported and defender, would hate to even consider defending this kind of behavior from him.

Yes, the big difference between the two BC’s is the existence of a bond between Elain and Lucien. But that just proves my point even more because everyone would be screaming about the obvious rejected-bond foreshadowing because of his behavior.

So why is this behavior considered romantic because Azriel does it? Why does it seemingly confirm to some that Az and Elain are destined to be together? Why is this less obvious because it’s Azriel?

As a BC alone, this chapter makes it pretty clear that E/riel just doesn’t work even when they tried. If they were that compatible, Az would never have been able to stay away from Elain. This was the same guy who told Rhys to chain him to a tree and he would still rip it up to defend his loved ones. He truly believes that the cauldron was wrong and that Elain is his mate? Well, Cassian couldn’t stay away from his mate. Even while dying, he still crawled to Nesta.

[witheverynesta]

feyre is so insufferable but particularly when she starts naming paintings randomly like fym "clever fox stares down winged death" 😭😭

[stargirlfeyre]

So whose going to tell these people that Elain was friends with the shadow twins before Nesta was friends with Gwyn and Emerie? How are Elain fans copying y’all by talking about her trio when canonically her trio existed before Nesta’s😭?

Seriously though the possessiveness Nesta fans feel over normal things is so…? They’re some of the most envious people in this fandom because how are you gatekeeping friendships? It’s canon that they’re friends. It’s canon that they spend more time with her than her own sisters. It’s canon that they’re friends with her not because they’re getting paid for it but because they like spending time with her (they literally rejected when Feyre tried to give them a raise for helping Elain). Elain’s life does not revolve around Nesta and she does have outside relationships that matter to her. Y’all need to just cope with that.

Like having friends is copying someone now? Please go outside platonic relationships are normal.

And secondly how are you gate keeping a court that already belongs to Rhys😭? “Elain fans try to steal Dusk from Nesta” now how can they steal something from Nesta that doesn’t belong to her in the first place? The Dusk Court/Prison does not belong to Elain or Nesta and it’s already said that even if it’s an 8th court, it still falls under Rhys’ jurisdiction. His blood is the only thing that can open the gates. You’re gatekeeping territory that already has Rhys’ name slapped on it. But you want to talk about fans copying and stealing from other characters?

And it’s funny how people only have an issue with saying another character is going to get Gwydion when it’s Elain. Don’t get me wrong I don’t think she’s going to get it because I’m personally not an “Elain becoming a warrior and wielding a powerful sword” girlie but why is it this big discourse only when it comes to her? Mind you, y’all aren’t even arguing over how her becoming a warrior and getting Gwydion wouldn’t fit her character (which would be valid)…y’all are arguing over her “taking” something from Nesta. Which makes no sense because almost every character is foreshadowed (by this fandom) to wield Gwydion and y’all don’t have as much of an issue with that.

Like I’ve even seen some theories about Nyx, a baby, getting it (because if the High Ruler plot does happen he would be a future High King) and it wasn’t a big deal. It’s like people understand that Nesta did not claim that sword the way she did with Ataraxia until Elain is brought into the conversation. We can make fanart and create theories of every character under the sun with that sword but you better not even think about Elain getting it.

From gatekeeping Motherly relationships, friendships, a court that doesn’t even belong to Nesta, and a sword I think it’s safe to say Nesta fans have officially lost it.

[stargirlie25]

wait i love that this is so canon but Azriel will NEVER love Elain as much as Lucien can.

AJAJAJAJAJJAJAJAHAHHAHAHAH

THAT IS LIKE 10000% CANON BC ITS CANON THAT LUCIEN IS HER MATE

NOBODY ON THE PLANET UNDERSTANDS, SEES, and LOVES ELAIN AS LUCIEN DOES

not. a. single. soul

NOT EVEN A SPIRIT!!!! I totally believe Elucien is endgame but no matter what THIS is canon and true.

[achaotichuman]

Day 1

Let’s rid of the evils first and save the merrier ones for the end.

Who is worse?

Azriel: Confessed his love to a woman beaten and battered, and abandoned in enemy lands by her father

Cassian: Slept with a woman his brother loved in order to hurt the said brother

You may recruit your tribe in your crusade if it pleases you. Your contenders: @litnerdwrites @fenrysmoonbeamswife @gwandas @positivelyruined @hrizantemy

[I commend your courage for claiming to know my identity. However, I assure you, my beloved liege, you know naught of it.]

I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY ABOUT THIS

Okay the obvious answer is Cassian but not for the reason you listed. I actually do not consider Cassian sleeping with Mor as a reason on the list of why he sucks.

Here are my personal favourites of why he sucks. Keep in mind, this is not all of them, just the highlights.

Emotionally abusing Nesta by constantly bringing up her trauma and using it as leverage to get her to act how he wants.

Restricting Nesta's intake of food when she was already struggling with eating.

Physically abusing Nesta as punishment via taking her on the hike from hell, and making her climb a mountain until she passed out from dehydration.

Knowing Nesta had been through SA but still cornering her while asking her sexually intruding questions (this ones from the bonus chapter I believe)

Taking advantage of Nesta sexually, by sleeping with her when he knew and had shamed her for using sex as an unhealthy coping mechanism.

I could keep going on and on, but those are just the few highlights.

Anyway, obviously I'm picking Cassian as the worst here BUT BEAWARE I AM DOING SO BEGRUDGINGLY.

When I tell you, I fuckin hated Azriel the moment he stepped onto page in the ACOTAR series, I mean I almost DNFed because I hated him so much.

Not for any particular reason (in the very beginning at least) he just pissed me right off.

But again, the example provided is hardly a reason as to why someone wouldn't like Azriel, so let's run through the highlights, shall we?

Azriel's abuse towards Nesta is quiet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist.

He was in active participate in punishing Nesta in the hike from hell by purposefully packing her bag to be as heavy as possible.

When he saw Nesta's bruises from falling down the stairs, he assumed they were from Cassian pushing her and he was amused by the thought.

He was a bystander as Cassian controlled Nesta down to her eating habits.

He also regifted something made for a woman he sexually fantasized about and tried to fuck, to an SA survivor. Which is *creepy* and *weird*

He's also just overall... really fucking annoying? He can't do his job properly, he can't hold his composure (See: The High Lord's Meeting), he really on exists as pretty decoration, and that's when he's not being the biggest asshole ever.

So, once more I am choosing Cassian as the worst, BUT ONLY BECAUSE HE IS WORSE THAN AZRIEL, NOT BECAUSE AZRIEL IS GOOD AT ALL

[florencemtrash]

So like…..who’s gonna have the unfortunate job of telling Helion that Az accidentally and unknowingly stabbed his daughter 😅

I would NOT want to be that person that's for fucking sure 😅. Not my circus, not my monkey.... except it IS my circus and my monkey so... fuck

Either way, don't you worry, Helion will learn very quickly what went down and he is not going to be happy about it....

[deathshallbethelastenemy]

Breaking my silence ... sjm SUCKS I just wasted my time reading acotar (read the tags if you want a rant)

[separatist-apologist]

Wait.. is today your birthday?! If so I hope you’re having a wonderful day. Actually I hope that even if it’s not your birthday, you always deserve a wonderful day. Also I am very excited to read naked Azriel, thank you for bestowing this future gift on us, your horny and loyal readers. I still am shocked and appalled (and sexy) that you’ve converted me to finding him interesting?! You’re the best, happy (possible) birthday love you bye

Tomorrow is my birthday! Thank you for the well-wishes though!!

[mirrorballpages]

They strike to kill, and you know I will

Azriel woke to the sharp, searing pain of his body refusing to cooperate. The air was still, heavy with the lingering scent of blood and healing salves. He blinked against the dim light, his vision swimming as he tried to make sense of where he was. 

A room. Not the battlefield, not the house of wind. But he couldn’t place it. The townhome, maybe.

Pain shot through his side as he attempted to sit up, forcing him to collapse back onto the bed with a groan. His throat felt dry, his mind sluggish, but fragments of memory began clawing their way back.

Elain.

Nesta.

Were they still at the House of Wind? Were they safe?

Flashes of the battle—of her—surged forward. Elain’s wide, terror-stricken eyes, her small body wrenched from safety, dragged toward the Cauldron’s gaping maw. And he hadn’t been fast enough. Hadn’t been strong enough. 

The sound of Nesta’s screams, raw and unrelenting, as if she could shatter the world with her rage. The chaos had been deafening: Cassians screams, Morrigan’s grip unyielding as she hauled him back, blood soaking everything around him. His own blood, pooling on the ground as he failed—failed—to stop it.

Pain radiated outward from every fracture, every torn muscle, every wing shred. It was a familiar pain, but this time it felt different—heavier. Not just in his body, but in his mind, his chest, his very soul.

Failure.

It coiled in him, dark and suffocating. He should have torn apart every soldier, every monster between them. Shadows had been useless, slipping through fingers that were too slow, too weak. He was the Night Court’s Spymaster. A killer. A weapon honed over centuries. But what use was any of it if he couldn’t protect them when it mattered most?

A low, guttural noise escaped him—half groan, half growl—as he shifted, trying to force his body up. The pain flared white-hot, and he slumped back onto the mattress.

A soft voice broke through his haze. “Don’t try to move. I’ll get Madja.”

Azriel turned his head, each movement a labor, to find a woman hovering nearby. He didn’t recognize her. But beyond her, sprawled on a separate bed, was Cassian. His brother’s wings were outstretched, covered in bandages that glistened faintly with ointments. He lay on his stomach, his face buried in the pillow, his breathing deep but steady.

“Where is Rhys?” Azriel croaked, his voice rough, unused. His fists clenched in the sheets. The scars on his hands ached with the pressure, but it anchored him. He couldn't stay here. He couldn't lie in this bed while the people he loved were out there—while she was out there.

The woman moved closer, already halfway out the door. “I just notified him that you’re awake. He’ll be here shortly.”

Azriel’s gaze lingered on Cassian. “Is he—”

“He will heal,” she said quickly, her tone soothing but firm. “We’ve kept him asleep to help the process along. His injuries were... extensive. But Madja says he’ll recover fully.”

She began explaining Cassian’s wounds—but Azriel’s mind drifted, the words barely registering. Instead, it clawed back to the last time he had seen Elain, standing in that garden, her delicate hands brushing over the blooms with care. That soft, faraway look in her eyes, as if the wind whispered secrets only she could hear. She had been so... untouched by this world of war and blood. Before... all of this.

The image of her, terrified and drenched, being pulled from the Cauldron tore through him. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus on the present.

Mate.

The word reverberated in Azriel’s mind, a single syllable that cracked through him like a blade striking stone. Lucien had yelled it—declared it, even—as if the Cauldron’s cruel games had given him a right to it. To her.

Elain.

Azriel’s heart had stopped at the sound. Mate. No. It couldn’t be true. There was no way Elain—gentle, radiant Elain—could be bound to Lucien.

Not when he had felt the pull.

Azriel clenched his fists, his body thrumming with tension even now as the memory surged forward. From the moment he’d laid eyes on her, there had been something—a thread, a whisper—tying him to her. Not just her beauty, though it was unparalleled. It was the way she moved, spoke, smiled. The quiet hum beneath his skin whenever she was near. The way his shadows would slink toward her, curling like smoke, choosing her. How his every instinct sharpened when she was in the room, the air shifting, as though the universe tilted on its axis in her presence. It was the way her very presence seemed to fill the spaces he hadn’t known were empty.

Lucien couldn’t feel that. Not the way he did.

And yet, the Cauldron had declared otherwise.

The anger that swelled in him wasn’t the calm, cold fury he wielded so well. This was different. This was rage. The thought of her, trembling and vulnerable, being claimed by a bond she didn’t understand—or want? It was enough to send his shadows writhing, his blood pounding in his ears.

He would figure out this mate bullshit later.

Right now, there were more immediate threats. His brother was injured, his High Lady in danger. And Elain...

Nothing else mattered. Not Lucien. Not the Cauldron’s declaration.

Nothing but her.

Read The Rest On AO3

[pellucid-constellations]

Knowing You

Azriel was intimidating, scary—a menacing presence in almost every setting. But not to you. Never to you.

Tattoo Artist!Azriel x Elementary School Teacher!Reader (1k words, modern au)

~~

“Why’s your boyfriend all…pissed off?” 

“Huh?” You spun your head around, finding Azriel towering over everyone else in the room, a scowl seemingly permanent on his face. His eyes narrowed from time to time, taking in the crowd and its unwillingness to calm. He remained plastered to the back wall. 

“Oh,” you laughed, turning back to your friend with your fingertips drumming against your jaw. “He’s not pissed. That’s just his face.” 

Your friend’s brows jumped up to her hairline. “He always looks like that?” 

“He doesn’t look that angry.”

“Absolutely no one is approaching him. This is a party. He looks about ready to pummel that tiny guy next to him.” 

“He’s just a little intimidating,” you reasoned. “And—hey, look!” you pointed over your shoulder. “He smiled a little, see?” 

She scoffed, sipping her beer. “I don’t get it. You’re all… well, you. And he’s all dark and mysterious and—honestly kinda scary.” 

You chewed on your bottom lip and turned further to inspect the man you had been in a relationship with for the better half a year. Was he scary? You certainly didn’t think so. Maybe a little at first. Maybe when you walked into that tattoo shop with your friend and his dark gaze almost burned a hole in your head. But not now. Never now. 

“You don’t really get him, that’s all.”

“And you do? He’s got a whole thing going on that you shouldn’t be tied up in,” your friend urged, but this was hardly the time for long, important conversations. You were tipsy and the music was too loud and, to be honest, you’d heard it all before already. Nothing was going to change your mind about Azriel. 

“Are you even listening, y/n? You’re polar opposites. And you said that he smiles but I have still yet to see one since—oh.” 

Azriel spotted you then—his goal from the moment he walked into this overly crowded house. He hadn’t been pissed. He’d been looking for you. 

And it was clear that he spotted you, because the second he did a wide grin split up his perfect face. It simmered a bit when he realized your friend was observing the scene, but a quirk of his mouth still remained. He started his path to you then, weaving in and out of the inebriated crowd. 

He touched you the moment he could, his hand meeting the small of your back as you sat on the creaky kitchen stool. His lips pressed against your temple and a murmured greeting was lost in your hair. He was lost in the bubble he created each time he had you in his grasp, your bright eyes and adoring smile rendering him unmoveable, but then your friend subtly cleared her throat and Azriel looked away. 

“Hello, Amber,” Azriel greeted, keeping your body slotted into the crook of his arm. “Having fun?” 

She blinked at him. He really was intimidating, especially up close. Even with the heightened bar stools, he was a good head over where the two of you sat. 

“Um, yes, thank you.” 

“And the summer break?” he questioned. He had started to rub circles into your spine. 

Amber stuttered again, thoughts lost in her head before replying, “It was good. I’m sorry—how do you know my name?” 

“Y/n’s mentioned you. I’ve seen your Instagram, too. Connected the dots.” 

“Right,” Amber nodded, her eyes trailing down the vast array of tattoos that wound up from the neck of Azriel’s shirt. 

Azriel then looked back down to you. His voice was low, almost too low for the pounding music, but he made up for that by pressing up closer to you. “Are you ready to go, sweetheart?” 

You giggled at the feel of his breath at your ear, pushing him away slightly in a haze. He only shook his head and smiled at the space you’d created. 

“Trying to flirt with me in public? Azriel, you are scandalous.” 

He only breathed out a laugh, gaze bouncing between your glossy eyes. Once you stopped giggling enough to meet his stare, his expression softened. “You told me to pick you up at eleven. You have a lesson plan, pretty girl.”

You gasped, slapping a hand against Azriel's chest that didn’t even have him flinching. You whipped your head over to Amber—who was staring at the two of you in confused amusement —and hurriedly offered, “I have to go! Third grade!” 

In his efforts to capture your attention, Azriel had woven both of his arms around you to meet at your lower back, a hold that you now shot out of. You wobbled as you pressed out of the stool and grabbed Azriel’s leather sleeve. An unnecessary gesture; anyone at this party could see that the man would follow you anywhere. 

“I didn’t prep the multiplication tables,” you rambled, words slurring together. 

“You did. I helped you with the formatting on the iPad.” 

“I let you touch my iPad?” you gasped. 

“No, sweetheart. It was mine.” 

“Your work one?” 

Azriel only continued to guide you out of the party, you none the wiser to the dirty looks he was shooting everyone too drunk to get out of the way. 

“Let’s get back to your apartment, okay? Then we can deal with the iPad.” 

You giggled, springing off the threshold to the front door and giving Azriel a heart attack. “Okay!” 

[flickering-chandelier]

Was Any Of It True?

Pairing: badboy!Azriel x goodgirl!Reader

Summary: Modern/College AU! Az’s on-again-off-again girlfriend gives Azriel a proposition: make the new bookworm fall in love with him, then break her heart, in exchange for anything he wants. He agrees, but things get complicated when he falls for Reader for real.

Based on this request! 🩷

✨ Part 2 ✨ Part 3 ✨

Warnings: angst, sexual language?, swearing, Azriel & friends being assholes

Word Count: 10.2k   oh lord sorry besties I couldn’t shut my little brain off

“I'm telling you, Az, she's pissing me off. The professor loves her, and I saw that she got a 100 on the exam,” Claire was seething while she and Azriel lounged in his apartment, eating the pizza he'd ordered.

“Mhmm,” he mumbled around his pizza, only half listening. Claire was always complaining about something. “And what did you get?”

“98! He took two points off because I didn't answer thoroughly enough,” she scoffed. “God, I hate her. She's going to push me right off the top of the Dean's list.”

Azriel blinked. “I mean, you'll still be very near the top of the list.”

Claire groaned, throwing her napkin onto her paper plate angrily, “That's not good enough!”

He rolled his eyes and she glared at him. “Don't be an ass! This is a big deal to me.”

“Oh, I know it is. This girl is all you talk about.”

“Because I hate her. Maybe if she got laid, she’d be distracted enough to slip up once in a while,” she grumbled.

“Yeah, maybe,” Azriel said, pulling his laptop out of his backpack and setting it on the table, a sufficient signal that he didn’t want to talk about his girlfriend’s arch nemesis anymore. 

No more than a week later, Azriel’s on-again-off-again girlfriend was off-again, and honestly, he was relieved. Claire’s obsession with being at the top of the academic food chain was bordering on insanity, and he was glad he didn’t have to hear about it anymore.

He was currently at a house party that Cassian had dragged him to, with a blonde girl that he couldn’t remember the name of sitting in his lap, one of her arms draped behind his neck, the other resting on his chest. She had been whispering in his ear all the things that she wanted to do to him, before Cassian interrupted, handing Azriel a shot with a grin. 

Blondie scowled at Cassian, who just smirked back as the girl that Cass had been talking to earlier sidled up next to him, wrapping her arms around his middle. 

Azriel knocked the shot back and handed the cup it had come in to the blonde girl. “Can you get me another one?”

She seemed annoyed, but took the cup from him anyway, striding into the kitchen. 

“Sorry for interrupting,” Cassian said, settling on the couch next to him, before pulling the girl onto his lap.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Like I give a shit.”

Cassian snickered as the blonde girl came back, draping herself in his lap again, handing him another shot. He drank it, just as Claire appeared before him, her arms crossed over her chest, and her brow furrowed.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice husky.

“I have a proposition for you.”

He smirked, making a show of tightening his grip on the blonde girl’s waist. “No, thanks. Been there, done that.”

“Not that kind of proposition, you idiot. Can we talk privately? I think it’ll be worth your while,” she said, her lips turning up into a sultry smile.

“I don’t know, Claire, I’m pretty busy right now,” he said, turning his gaze to the blonde girl, squeezing her thigh. She sighed dreamily, leaning further into him.

Claire groaned. “Look, Az, I really need your help. Please?” 

Azriel studied Claire, and he could see that it was true. She was wearing her most annoyed, don’t-fuck-with-me face, but her eyes were pleading. Sad.

He sighed, glancing apologetically at the girl in his lap before turning back to Claire. “Fine, we can talk.”

She led him into someone’s empty bedroom and shut the door behind her. 

“If this is about that girl you’re obsessed with, so help me,” he said. She winced, and he threw his head back. “Unbelievable. Claire, I don’t want to hear about this anymore! I don’t care about your problems.”

“Just hear me out!”

He crossed his arms over his chest, and raised an eyebrow at her, waiting.

“She actually is threatening my spot on the Dean’s list now,” she said, looking close to tears.

He looked pointedly at her. “And?”

“And I was thinking about what I said earlier… about how if a really hot guy was interested in her, maybe she would stop caring about her grades so much,” she said, smiling at him now.

“And?” Azriel just wished she would get to the point.

Claire sighed, exasperated. “I need you to seduce her.”

Azriel barked out a laugh, leaning his shoulder against the nearest wall. “You’re kidding, right? Why would I do that?”

She stepped closer to him, trailing a finger along his chest, her touch feather-light through his black t-shirt. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, “Because I asked? Because I’ll give you anything you want,” she said, her voice dropping seductively.

He held her gaze, leaning down until their mouths were a breath away. Azriel heard her breath hitch.

Then he pulled away rapidly, and she blinked. “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”

Her brow furrowed, her nose scrunching up. Oh, she was furious. Azriel's mouth turned up into his calculated half smile.

“What do you want, Az?” she huffed.

“Hmm,” he said, taking his time to think. Claire scowled. “I haven’t decided yet. But when I need to call in a favor of my own, you have to promise to do it. No matter what,” he drawled.

To her credit, she really looked like she was thinking it through, trying to think of another way to push this girl off the list. But finally, she sighed. “Deal.”

He pushed off the wall, walking towards the door. “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”

Claire shook her head, her eyes still alight with her anger. “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”

Azriel bristled a bit, leaning against the door now. “I know I’m an asshole, but that seems too far, don’t you think?”

“No. If she’s going to be distracted enough that her grades will slip, you need to make it seem real,” she said, and then smiled as if she had a wicked thought.

“What?” Azriel asked.

“And then you break her heart, right before exams,” she said excitedly, her eyes burning with enthusiasm now. “You tell her, in front of everyone, that it was all fake.”

He rubbed at his bicep, a nervous tic that Claire picked up on immediately. “Jesus, Claire. I don’t want to ruin this girl’s life.”

She arched her brow. “Why not? She’s ruining mine.”

Azriel rolled his eyes and Claire pounced, “Any favor, Az. Any time, you can tell me to do whatever you want,” she smirked. 

He groaned, pinching his nose. “Fine,” he ground out. “Where do I find her?”

Claire beamed. “Where else would a nerd be? The library, of course.”

---

You shifted in your seat, starting to feel sore after poring over your notes for hours. Maybe you should go for a walk. Maybe. But, you still had so much to do…

Groaning, you crossed your arms on the table, laying your head down on top of them. Just a minute, you just needed a tiny break --

“Studying always makes me feel like that, too,” said a low, male voice. 

You lifted your head, bewildered, and nearly choked on your own spit. The guy who was for some reason deigning to talk to you was… well, what other way was there to say it? He was drop-dead gorgeous. 

His face was stoic as he sauntered up to your table, his jet black hair was just a tad unruly, his hazel eyes burning into yours. But it was his body that made the breath completely escape your lungs. He was dressed in all black, his t-shirt hugging his chest and his biceps, showing off his every muscle, and there were swirling black tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves. 

All you could do was stare as he took the seat across from you, leaning back with his arms crossed like the two of you did this every day.

“What class is that for?” he asked, nodding to the textbook open in front of you, the dozens of papers scattered around you.

“Organic Chemistry,” you said, trying to sound like you were normal and not completely surprised by this handsome stranger finding you in your favorite quiet corner of the library.

He let out a low whistle, “Damn, you are smart.”

“What, did someone tell you I was?” you asked. 

“No, I just figured when I saw all the --” he gestured to your cluttered workspace, “homework stuff.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Homework stuff?”

His mouth turned up the slightest bit, holding up his hands like he was surrendering. “You caught me. I’m not much of an academic.”

“Then what are you doing here?” you asked curiously.

“Now, that is an excellent question,” he said, and really did seem like he was questioning it. “Girls? Parties? Though I could get girls anywhere and I don't particularly enjoy parties.”

You nodded. “Ah,” you said. “Got it.”

He braced his arms on the table, leaning forward. “I take it you’re not into that kinda thing?”

A dry laugh escaped from your throat, “Definitely not. I’m really only here for the--” you mimicked his gesture from earlier, “homework stuff.”

He barked out a laugh, his stoic face completely transforming for the briefest of moments. You couldn’t help but stare. “You’re telling me all you do is study? A beautiful girl like you? Please tell me you’ve been to at least one party,” he said, looking at you incredulously. 

You blushed. “No, I haven’t been to any.”

You braced yourself for impact, for the teasing or insults to come, but he just smiled softly. “You wanna go to one with me tonight?”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “You don’t even know my name.”

The side of his mouth quirked up into a smile, his eyes dancing with amusement. “What's your name?”

Rolling your eyes, you told him.

“Nice to meet you. I'm Azriel.” He raised his eyebrows, “So? Party?”

“I thought you just said you don't like parties!”

“True, but I do love the thought of corrupting a sweet, innocent bookworm,” he smirked.

“No, thanks.” You couldn't imagine yourself going to a house party, especially not with a stranger.

Azriel's cool-guy demeanor seemed to drop the slightest bit. “Why not?”

You looked at him pointedly. “I don't know you. And I have no interest in being corrupted. Why do you want me to come to this party so badly anyway?”

He shrugged casually. “I like you.”

“You don't know me!”

“See, that, right there,” he snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “You're funny. Smart, beautiful. What's not to like?”

You forced yourself to hold his gaze, even as a blush rose to your cheeks. “I'm not going to a party with someone I don't know. They make true crime documentaries about that sort of thing.”

He seemed to contemplate that for a moment. “Okay, you make a fair point. What do you want to do then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You can pick our first date, since you didn't like my idea.”

“What date?” You blanched.

He arched an eyebrow. “Our first date? Weren't you listening?”

You studied him for a moment. For the life of you, you could not figure out what this guy's angle was. 

As if reading your mind, he said softly, “Look, I just saw you and thought you were really pretty, and that it looked like you could use a break from studying. That's it,” he held his hands up again. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. If you want me to go, I'll go.”

For a beat longer, you watched him, his body language, his ridiculously pretty face. What was the harm, really? You sighed, tore off a scrap of paper from your notebook, scribbled out your number, then handed it to him. “I need to study. If you text me later, I'll let you know where we're going on the first date.” 

His face broke out into what might have been the first genuine smile you'd seen from him. He took the paper from you, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Can't wait.”

You were half expecting to never hear from Azriel again. But just a few hours later, as you were eating dinner in your apartment, your phone chimed with a text. 

Az: Done studying yet?

It was an effort to bite down your smile. 

You: Taking a break for dinner. 

It was less than a minute before he responded. 

Az: Dinner? Is that what our first date is going to be?

You didn’t try to hide your smile this time.

You: A little cliche, don’t you think?

Az: Oh, absolutely. So… what are we doing?

You: Meet at the tennis courts at 7 tomorrow?

Az: We’re playing tennis?

You: No, but I’m not giving you my address. And I’m not giving away the surprise.

Az: So smart. So mysterious. I’m swooning.

You: Shut up.

Az: See you tomorrow ;)

You tossed your phone to the side, forcing yourself to focus back on your schoolwork.

The following day you parked your car by the empty tennis courts on campus just before 7. It was early spring; the weather finally started to warm up enough to not be too chilly in the evening. Still, you rubbed your arms nervously. You were starting to regret this. You didn’t know this guy at all. What if it went horribly wrong?

Before you could contemplate bailing, a familiar figure rode up on a jet black motorcycle. Of course this guy had a motorcycle. You couldn't see his face underneath the helmet, but you would already recognize those tattooed arms anywhere. 

He parked his bike, smoothly sliding off it and taking his helmet off before sauntering over to you. “Hey, beautiful.” 

You rolled your eyes, sure that he had said that to a million girls on a million dates before.

“What? Don’t do that,” he said softly, his smile softening and his gaze raking down your body. “You are beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly, giving in. 

“So,” he said, towering over you. “What’s the plan?”

You smiled. “How’s your mini golf game?”

He raised an eyebrow, looking a little skeptical. “Mini golf? That’s what you’re choosing?”

“Yes, it is. Do you have something to say about that?” you teased. 

His eyes sparked at the tone in your voice. “Nope. Nothing at all.” He nodded to his motorcycle. “You wanna hop on the bike?”

You looked pointedly at him and he laughed. “Didn’t think so,” he gestured to your car. “Lead the way.”

Your nerves started to dim as the two of you fell into a rhythm going through the course. The two of you were just talking and laughing like it was normal. It was… fun, actually.

“Shit,” Azriel muttered as he overshot the hole. Again.

You laughed and his eyes flicked over to you, lingering a bit. “You’re good at this, bookworm,” he said as he took another shot, sinking it into the hole this time. You watched, leaning against your putter, having finished that hole two shots ago. 

Shrugging, you said, “I used to go with my family a lot.”

He placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked to the next hole. You cleared your throat, focusing on your steps, on your breathing, on anything but how it felt to have him touch you so casually. “What about you?”

“What about me?” he asked as you dropped your ball onto the green. 

You took your shot before you answered. The ball landed just shy of the hole. “What’s your family like?”

“My family…” he trailed off, clearing his throat, setting up his shot. He paused to look at you for a moment before he swung. “It’s complicated.”

He hit the ball and it stopped right next to yours. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” you said, as the two of you walked further down the hole.

“No, you didn’t. It’s just… I don’t really talk about them with anybody.”

You nodded, not sure where to go from here.

Azriel smiled reassuringly, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “Stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying,” you claimed, your voice an octave too high. 

“You are. I can tell.”

You bit your lip to hide your smile as you sunk your ball into the hole.

“I think I’m going to need some pointers from you on the next hole,” he grumbled. 

“I guess I could help you out,” you laughed. 

So, when you got to the next hole, the last hole, he stepped so close that your bodies were nearly touching. You tried to control your breathing. 

“You’re gonna help me out?” he murmured, his eyes flashing down to your lips for a moment. 

“Okay,” you breathed. 

He stepped behind you, his body pressed against your back, wrapping his arms around you, his hands covering yours on the club. 

“How is this going to help you, exactly?” you asked, your voice slightly unsteady. 

His lips brushed your ear as he said, “Oh, trust me, it’s helping.”

You couldn’t say anything. Could hardly breathe.

“What do you think I’m doing wrong?” He murmured. 

You swallowed. “You’re hitting it too hard. Not exactly rocket science.”

“Mmm. That makes sense. I do tend to go… hard.”

That finally had you coming to your senses. You stepped out of his grasp, turning back to glare at him when you were a safe distance away. 

The side of his mouth turned up into a smile. “Sorry. I couldn't help myself.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him again. “Just take your shot.”

He smirked at you for a moment, before he swung, and the ball went right into the hole. 

He turned to you, his eyes wide. You laughed and he hugged you, picking you up and spinning you around. 

You let out an involuntary squeal of surprise, and he laughed, gazing into your eyes as he set you back on the ground. “Thanks for the help.”

“I think you’ve been playing me this whole time,” you joked. 

His smile fell a little, his eyes sobering. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. When he just stared at you, his expression unreadable, you added, “Azriel, I was joking.”

He blinked and then his natural, stoic expression was back as he took a step closer to you. “Right. I think you’re just a good teacher.”

You just looked at him, trying to decipher the changes in his mood, who he really was underneath the gruff exterior.

He smiled faintly, stepping even closer. “What are you thinking about?”

You had to crane your neck to look him in the eye now. “I'm trying to figure out what you're thinking about.”

Azriel's smile turned into a smirk. “I'm thinking… that I really want to kiss you. But I don't want to scare you away.”

Heat flooded your face and his smile turned softer as he cupped your cheek gently with a rough hand. “Would it scare you away?” He murmured.

“I -- don't know,” you said honestly.

His hazel eyes dipped to your lips and stayed there. “I think I'm gonna have to take the risk,” he said, his voice low, husky.

“I think so, too,” you breathed.

His free hand slinked around your waist, gently pulling your body into his. Your heart thundered in your chest as he leaned down, slowly bringing his lips to yours. He seemed to give you a moment to process, and you felt him smile against your mouth when you started to kiss him back, your fingers curling around his bicep, his shoulder.

You were breathless by the time he pulled away, and as the two of you drove back to the tennis courts, you couldn't help but hope that it would happen again by the end of the night.

When you parked your car near his motorcycle in the abandoned lot, he lingered, his gaze holding yours, dropping to your mouth again.

He shot you a crooked smile. “Aren't you gonna walk me to my bike?”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you got out of the car, walking over to the motorcycle and settling against the fence near it, crossing your arms over your chest. “Happy now?” You asked.

Slowly, he sauntered over to you, his eyes twinkling under the stars. He raised his arm, twining his fingers in the chain link fence above your head, leaning his body towards you, but not quite touching. He gazed down at you, still sporting that half smile. “Very happy,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched and when his smile widened, you knew he heard it. 

He held your gaze as he leaned down, bringing his mouth to yours again. You let yourself fall deeper into the kiss this time, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you. 

When he finally pulled away, he was grinning. “Want to go for a ride before you head home?” He said, nodding to his motorcycle.

You had stepped far enough out of your comfort zone for today. “Maybe next time.”

He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “So you're giving me a next time?”

Damn. You blushed. “I said maybe.”

“Uh huh, sure,” he said, leaning in again so his lips were barely an inch from yours. “You can't wait to see me again,” he whispered.

You shoved him away lightly and he chuckled, backing up towards his bike, but keeping his eyes on you. “Until next time, then. Have a good night, bookworm.” He winked before putting his helmet on and speeding away.

A few weeks, a few dates, and several kisses later, you couldn't deny that Azriel was on your mind quite a bit.

You had never thought that someone like him would be interested in someone like you, but he seemed to prove time and time again that he did indeed like you. He texted you flirty little things every day, making you blush in class. He asked about your day, and seemed to genuinely be listening, and he would do pretty much anything you wanted on your dates. Last week, the two of you had gone to a local bookstore and he had watched you browse, a small smile on his face. He ended up picking out a book he wanted you to read and you did the same for him. He had been sending you daily updates on his progress through the book. Slowly, you were starting to let your walls down, despite yourself.

So, when he asked you to finally go to a party with him, to meet his friends, you accepted. You still felt cautious: partying had never been something that you were remotely interested in, but you trusted him.

---

Azriel knew he had to tread this next part carefully. Things had been going well with you. He let you take control of your time together so you would be comfortable, and honestly, he was actually having a really good time getting to know you and seeing where you would take him next.

And when you kissed him… God. It was always a struggle to keep his hands on your waist, to stay PG. He wished he could explore things further with you in that regard, but he wouldn't let himself go there. Not when your broken heart was the finish line.

He rarely let himself think about it -- the deal that he had made with Claire. Being with you felt so natural that he usually forgot he was supposed to be acting. That he was supposed to be leading you to Claire’s revenge.

He had convinced you to come to a party, upon Claire's request so she could see the progress he had made with you. You had said yes, he assumed because you trusted him enough now. The thought made his stomach roll. He was really starting to hate himself for getting mixed up in this.

Azriel acted differently around you than he did around the rest of the general population. At a young age he had learned to keep quiet, to not show a single emotion on his pretty face, to be tough, or be punished. 

With you… he couldn't help but smile. Couldn't stop the laughs that he usually stomped down for the rest of the world.

So, having his two worlds collide at this party…he didn't know exactly how to navigate it. Deep down, it made his heart swell that you trusted him enough to help you navigate something so far out of your comfort zone. But if his friends saw the way he acted around you, he would never hear the end of it.

This would be a mess.

If Azriel wasn't leaning against his motorcycle when you exited your apartment building, he may have fallen over. You were wearing skintight jeans and a black tank top that showed more cleavage than he ever imagined he'd see from you. His fingers flexed on his biceps. He wanted to pull you back into your apartment and spend an hour peeling those clothes away inch by inch.

He blinked the lust away, trying to maintain his stoic expression, but failed, as he always did with you. He smiled at you and you smiled back. 

He could tell by the way you carried yourself as you neared him that you were nervous. “Hey, beautiful,” he drawled his usual greeting as you wrapped your arms around his waist in your usual greeting.

“Hi,” you said, a little sheepishly. His eyes must have lingered on your curves a little too long because your eyes widened a bit, and you bit your lip nervously as you pulled away from him. He nearly groaned. “Is it too much? Do I look stupid?”

Azriel placed his hands on your shoulders gently, dipping his head to look you in the eyes. “You look amazing. Seriously.”

You blushed and murmured, “Thank you.”

He had to turn away, to grab your helmet, so you wouldn't see how much you affected him. He fucking loved it when he made you blush like that. 

Azriel turned back to you, holding up the helmet, his eyebrows raising with amusement. “You ready to join the dark side, bookworm?”

You sighed, shifting on your feet. 

“It'll be okay,” he said softly. “I got you.”

You nodded, seeming to resolve yourself, and reached for the helmet with slightly shaking hands.

He helped you make sure it was on correctly, his fingers brushing your chin, your neck. He bit back a smile as you shivered.

Azriel held your hand as you got settled on the back of the bike, showing you where to put your feet, and how to shift your weight with him.

When you seemed at least somewhat comfortable, he slid his helmet on, smoothly setting onto the motorcycle. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your chest into his back. You were already holding him like your life depended on it, and he beamed freely underneath the helmet.

“Hold on tight,” he shot back at you, before he revved the engine, taking off much more gently than he normally would.

He tried not to think about the feel of you pressed into him, how tightly you were holding on. It didn't work. He wanted to drive you everywhere.

He couldn't resist reaching back to briefly squeeze your thigh at a red light. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” you said. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard a smile in your voice.

Too soon in Azriel's opinion, they had made it to the party. He parked, offering you his hand to help you get down.

When he pulled the helmet off your head, he was pleased to see that you were indeed smiling.

“Have fun?” He smirked.

“I did, actually,” you said, sounding a little breathless. 

“Whenever you need a ride, you just let me know,” he winked.

You laughed, glancing behind him at the house. 

He took your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You seemed to relax a bit. “We can leave whenever you want, okay?”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and smiled nervously up at him.

You were doing this for him, he realized. Because he had asked you to. His heart constricted, guilt churning in his gut again as he led you inside, your hand squeezing his tightly. 

His shoulders tightened as he led you through the crowd, making sure you were tucked in close to him. 

“You want a drink?” he asked, as you made your way to the kitchen.

“Sure,” you said.

He rifled through what was on the sticky counter, trying to find something not disgusting for you to drink, making sure you stayed close to him. 

Finally handing you a cup, he put your hand on the small of your back, guiding you to a corner of the living room that wasn’t yet very crowded. He took a seat on the couch and you settled in next to him, tucked closely into his side. 

You smiled, leaning your shoulder into his. “Is this really it?” You asked skeptically. “You just sit here and drink around a bunch of drunk idiots?”

He laughed before he could stop himself. “I mean, yeah, that’s pretty much it,” he said, dipping his head to say in your ear. “Or we could dance. Or make out,” he smiled against your ear. 

You blushed and he laughed again, kissing your temple. 

Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulders as Cassian and Rhys showed up, grinning at you, their eyebrows raised. Azriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. They had seen him laughing with you, kissing you, he knew. He had nearly forgotten where he was, why he was here with you. He loved them, but he wasn’t sure what they would say to you about him. They didn’t know about his arrangement with Claire, and he had been keeping details about his relationship with you as vague as possible.

“So you’re the one Az has been spending all his time with,” Cassian grinned. 

You smiled sheepishly, leaning further into Azriel. “I guess.”

Azriel nodded to his friends. “This is Cassian and Rhysand. They’ve been my best friends since we were kids.”

He could tell you were intrigued by that. He still hadn’t told you anything about his childhood. 

Before you could ask any questions, Claire showed up next to Azriel’s friends, her expression the very picture of friendship. It unsettled him so much that he held you closer to him, so you were practically on his lap. 

“Hi Claire,” you smiled, and his heart sank. You really had no idea how Claire felt about you. 

Claire smiled back. “Hey. I never expected to see you here.”

“I’m trying new things,” you said, smiling lightly at Azriel.

He couldn’t take it, having you so close to Claire, seeing that trust you had in him when you looked at him. He cleared his throat, standing up and offering you his hand. You took it, smiling politely at Claire and his friends as he led you through the house, out to the backyard. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked, looking up at him curiously as he leaned his back against the side of the house.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to stop the smile that rose to his face as you gazed at him with your big doe eyes. He tugged you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I just wanted you to myself for a minute.”

“Oh yeah?” you flushed, and before he could stop himself, he kissed your cheeks, feeling the heat against his lips before his lips met yours in a slow, sensual kiss.

He was still kissing you when he heard Cassian snickering close by. “Oh shit, he’s whipped.”

Azriel rolled his eyes as he pulled away from you, but kept his hold on your waist. “How am I whipped?”

Cassian’s eyes gleamed with mischief and Azriel’s heart started to pound. “Sneaking out here on your own. You’re usually content to stay on the couch to make out with your girl of the week.”

Your body tensed in his arms and Azriel groaned internally, glaring at Cassian, who smirked. “Oh, she didn’t know? My bad, Az.”

Azriel’s expression was enough to send Cassian back inside. 

Your brow furrowed as you stepped back, out of his reach. “Girl of the week?”

He winced. “He’s being dramatic.”

You raised your eyebrows, glaring at him, crossing your arms over your chest. 

It was kind of adorable, but Azriel reigned in that comment. He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, look. I told you when we met that I go to parties and meet girls there. But things are different now,” he said, taking a step closer to you. And it was true. Things were different. You had been the one haunting his thoughts since that first date. He had barely looked at anyone else since.

After a moment, you sighed, and he knew you wouldn’t resist when he wrapped his arms back around you. 

“Cassian’s an idiot,” he murmured, his focus back on your lips that he was dying to kiss again.

“So I’m not the girl of the week?” you said quietly, your eyes on his lips now. 

He smiled. “We’ve been seeing each other for several weeks, haven’t we?”

You nodded, biting your lip, before you stood up on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. Azriel was surprised by his own relief. “Are we going back inside?” you asked. 

“Not if you don’t want to,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist again. 

Pursing your lips in thought, you said, “Mmm. Let’s go back in.”

“Yeah?” he said, surprised.

You smiled up at him, resting your chin on his chest. His heart melted. “I’m trying to be brave.”

He kissed your forehead, smiling faintly. “I’m proud of you, bookworm.”

You beamed, your whole face lighting up. 

Azriel led you inside, his hand on the small of your back, trying to manage the swell of emotions in his chest. He didn’t have the time to process them right now. 

The two of you mingled throughout the party for a few hours, and you even went so far as to dance with him for a bit, your body pressed against his, your hips swaying to the beat of the pounding music. He could hardly believe it, the way you let loose with him.

He stopped in the bathroom before the two of you left. He wasn’t gone for more than a few minutes, but when he returned, he spotted you near the kitchen, backing away from a guy who was clearly very drunk and very horny. Azriel saw red. 

Before he could take a second to think, Azriel was upon the bastard, punching him in the jaw. 

He heard you yelp. The asshole staggered back, swearing, his hand cradling his jaw. Azriel barely spared him a glance, his hands gently holding either side of your face, his gaze raking your body, searching for any sign that he had touched you. 

Your eyes were wide, your breathing labored, but you seemed physically fine. “Are you okay?” he asked. 

You nodded, your eyes still frantic. 

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he led you outside. Claire caught his eye on the way out, hers shining with delight. He scowled at her. 

When you made it outside, he hugged you to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” 

“I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

You snorted. “You were gone for a few minutes. It’s not your fault that men are gross.”

“Are you okay, really?” He asked, pulling back to look you in the eye.

“I’m okay,” you said quietly. 

He held you close to him, gazing at you for another moment before you smiled faintly. “You really didn’t need to punch him, you know.”

He winced slightly, remembering the yelp you let out when he threw that punch. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

Azriel held you until his heart rate slowed down, until his body was convinced that you were okay.

Later, after he had dropped you off at your apartment, Azriel stayed awake, tossing and turning, so many images from that night racing through his mind.

The way his heart constricted every time you smiled at him, the horror he felt at seeing Claire play nice, the terror and rage that flowed through his entire body when he saw that creep bothering you…

Azriel knew then, that he had real feelings for you. Shit.

---

“C’mon, baby, you’ve been studying for ages already,” Azriel murmured, standing behind you as you sat at your desk in your apartment, his arms draped around your chest, his lips trailing down your neck.

Your toes curled, heat running right through you. You wanted to give in. You really did. But…

You sighed. “I’m sorry, Az. I have this big exam on Tuesday. And finals are only a few weeks away.”

For some reason, that comment made his entire body stiffen. “Oh, yeah. Finals.”

You snorted. “Don’t tell me you forgot about finals.”

“No, I just… they’re soon.” His voice wavered a bit as he stood up fully. You twisted in your seat to look up at him. His brow was furrowed, his eyes swimming with anxiety. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your hand. “Do you need me to help you study?” He had never seemed to care about his grades before.

He leaned into your touch for a moment, shooting you a forced smile. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I should go, and let you study.” He stooped down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I won’t distract you anymore today.” 

Before you could even respond, he was out the door. 

You turned back to your notes, but couldn’t digest any of the information. That was… weird.

Azriel and you had been dating for months now. Though neither of you had ever put a label on it, you both knew you were exclusive. 

In the privacy of your own mind, you secretly loved that he acted so differently around you than he did out and about on campus. You felt like you got a different version of him that was saved especially for you. It made your heart swell, all the little things he did for you each day. 

You were also willing to admit, to yourself only, that you were absolutely in love with him. You had known for weeks now, and had been debating whether or not you should tell him. 

He had been the one that made you step out of your comfort zone, to try new things, to be brave. 

So, soon. You would tell him soon.

--- 

Azriel had to get out of the deal. Now.

He remembered the exact moment that he realized he was in love with you. It was a random afternoon, the two of you were watching TV at his apartment. He was laying on the couch, you were laying on top of him, your legs intertwined with his, your head on his chest. He was absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair while you giggled about something that happened on the show. 

And he had the thought. I want my whole life to look like this. 

And he knew. He loved you.

This had scared him, obviously, on multiple levels. He had never loved anyone before, never knew what that looked like. Yet somehow, he knew without a doubt that it was true. 

And then, of course, there was the deal he had made with the devil. 

He had known early on that he would have to get out of the deal. He had just been putting it off, hoping that Claire’s insanity would die down throughout the semester. 

But now his time was up. 

He prayed to whoever might be listening that Claire would listen to reason. That she would call it off. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you. He wouldn’t do it. 

Claire smirked as she opened the door. “I’ve been wondering when you would show up. It’s been a long time, Az,” she purred. 

Azriel stalked into her apartment, barely sparing her a glance. “The deal’s off, Claire.”

She cocked her head to the side, amused. “Oh? Why is that?”

“Because it’s insane,” he growled. “You were insane for coming up with it, and I was insane for agreeing to it. I’m done.”

Slowly, her lips curled up into a lethal smile. “You fell for her.”

Azriel blinked. 

Claire cackled. “Oh, this is rich. You actually fell for the bookworm? I never thought I’d see the day. No wonder you haven’t been crawling into my bed.”

He scowled. “The deal’s off,” he repeated in the tone he used to scare people away.

She really looked at him then, her eyes bearing into his. After a moment, she finally said, “Okay.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Okay? Just like that?”

Claire shrugged. “You were right. It was an insane plan. And it didn’t even work,” she said bitterly. “You suck at your job. She’ll still be on the top of the Dean’s list, even after all your lovey-dovey shit.”

A swell of pride ran through him at the thought of your name at the top of that list.

“Alright,” he said, his brow furrowed, trying to figure out if there was some kind of angle here. But, there didn’t seem to be one. 

He left quickly, his heart and mind feeling lighter. The guilt of how the two of you started would always be there, he knew. But now when he looked into the future, it wasn’t a hazy blur of nothingness that he saw. It was you.

---

The week before finals, there were parties everywhere. So you heard. 

You had gone to a few more with Az over the past few months. It still wasn’t exactly your thing, but you didn’t mind going, especially with Azriel being so attentive to you every time you did. 

Azriel didn’t seem particularly interested in going to this one, but his friends had been complaining that they never saw him anymore, so he agreed to go. And you had agreed to go with him, if only to take a break from your near constant studying these days.

You followed him through the crowd, his hand clasping yours, as always. Drinks in hand, you made your way to the outskirts of a group of people who were dancing and you joined them, Azriel pulling you in close to him, moving against you.

A laugh burst from you, and Azriel grinned, leaning down to kiss you. 

You were so happy, you thought. So happy in that moment with him. You knew people watched you, as they usually did when Azriel was like this with you. You didn’t care.

When he pulled back from the kiss, he gazed down at you, his eyes swimming with affection. 

“I love you,” you said before you could stop it.

His eyes sobered, and he pulled you in even closer, so your bodies were flush together. He leaned his forehead against yours, and in a crowd of people, Azriel said, a soft smile on his face, “I love you, too.”

Your heart leaped and you grinned, threading your fingers in his hair and bringing his lips to yours. 

Suddenly, the music stopped, and from the TV came a voice. Azriel’s voice. 

Everyone turned to the sound, curiously, watching. The video was jumpy, filming the floor, like it was filmed from someone’s pocket. 

Azriel tensed, his arms still around you. “Fuck,” he said. “We need to go.”

Utterly confused, you didn’t argue as he pulled you through the crowd. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard video Azriel say, “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”

Your blood ran cold, shock jolting from your heart down to your toes. Azriel was tugging on your arm, but you didn’t budge as you heard Claire’s voice next. 

Claire. He had been talking to Claire. What did he mean, that he could fuck her whenever he wanted? You hadn’t even known that they knew each other. When was this filmed?

“Baby, please, I’ll explain everything, but we need to go,” Azriel was saying, sounding frantic. 

You wrenched your arm from his grasp, weaving through the still crowd, moving toward the TV. You heard him swear, calling your name behind you, but you kept moving.

They were saying something about a deal, about him owing her a favor. You couldn’t make sense of it, not until you heard video Azriel say, “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”

Video Claire responded, “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”

It was then that you noticed Claire, next to the TV, her eyes locked on you, smirking. 

You couldn’t breathe, your legs were going to give out -- 

It was all fake. All of it. 

Azriel caught up to you then, picking you up, slinging you over his shoulder. You didn’t protest, the shock setting in. You had to get out of there, even if it was him that carried you out. 

When he made it outside, you pounded on his back with your fists. “Put me down, you asshole!”

“Sorry,” Azriel said, wincing as he gently set you on your feet. “You looked like you were going to pass out.”

“Like you even care,” you spat, storming away from him. 

“Of course I care. Please, just give me a minute to explain,” he pleaded, following you. 

“Explain what?” You stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. “That you played me for a fool? Made me fall in love with you as a sick joke? Well, congratulations, it worked,” you said, pouring every ounce of venom that you could muster into your voice. You turned back around and continued walking as tears started pricking your eyes. You refused to let him see you cry.

“It may have started out that way, but it’s not like that anymore. From the first date, I had feelings for you. I love you. You have to believe that,” he said, right on your heels. 

You knew he could catch up with you easily if he wanted to. He was hanging back, trying to give you your space. That pissed you off even more. “How could I possibly believe that?” 

“Because you feel it, I know you do,” he said, finally wrapping his fingers around your wrist.

You tugged your hand free, but stopped walking, needing to catch your breath. You faced him. “What was the point?” You asked quietly. “Why make the deal?”

It didn’t matter. But you had to know.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Claire and I used to date. When you transferred, you pushed her off the top spot of the Dean’s list. She hated you for it. She said she would give me any favor I wanted if I made you fall for me… to distract you from school.”

You were so surprised that the tears you had been holding in started to fall. You angrily swatted them away. 

Azriel continued, “I said no at first, but she was persistent, and…” he took a deep breath, darting his eyes away from you for a moment. They were shining with unshed tears. “I have no excuse. I agreed to it. I’m an asshole. But you made me want to be different.”

“Was any of it true?” You heard yourself saying, your voice breaking. 

He lifted his hand, like he was about to reach for yours, then let it drop, thinking better of it. “It was all true. From our first date, you were breaking down my walls, making me smile, making me laugh.” He smiled sadly. “I fell for you. I love you,” he said, and now a lone tear did slide down his cheek. “I called it off with Claire ages ago. I told her I was out, and she agreed. I… I didn’t know she filmed it.”

You wanted to believe him, that he really did love you. But… “Even if you do love me, that doesn’t change what you did,” you said in a small voice. 

Azriel sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. “I know. I am so, so sorry.”

Shaking your head, backing away from him, you choked out, “I don’t -- I can’t. I can’t do this right now.”

He took a step toward you, his eyes pleading. “Please. Please don’t go.”

Turning your back to him, you walked away, barely registering the pavement beneath your feet, the direction you were going. 

Azriel called your name, but you kept walking.

You knew he had followed you home, not letting you walk alone at night. You watched his form retreat after you locked yourself inside your apartment with trembling hands. 

You went to bed, not even bothering to change. Laying on your back, watching your ceiling fan spin around and around, you tried to identify all that you were feeling: shame, humiliation, sorrow. Fury. 

Replaying all that had happened between you, all the times he was probably laughing at you with his friends behind your back. You felt nauseous. 

How could he do this? How could he have played you for so long?

What the hell were you supposed to do now?

You woke up to several missed calls and texts from Azriel, all sent hours apart. It seemed that he didn’t get any sleep at all.

I am so sorry. I’m the worst person in the world. I know that. 

I know what you’re thinking right now. I know that you’re going over it all in your head. But, it was real, baby. It was all real. I swear it was. I love you so much.

I’m hoping you’re getting some sleep. Can I see you today?

Groaning, you tossed your phone to the side, and took a long shower. By the time you got out, someone was knocking on your door. 

You quickly dressed in some old pajamas and called through the door, “Go away, Az.”

“Well, at least you’re alive,” you heard him say. “Can I please come in? Two minutes?”

You threw the door open, furious. “No, you cannot come in. You humiliated me. You used me. You had your fun. What else could you possibly want?”

Azriel was standing on the threshold, his hands in his pockets nervously, his facial expression looked like you had just slapped him. “I want to apologize! I want to make things better, that’s what I want.”

Biting your lip to keep from crying, you said quietly, “Go away.” 

His face fell. “I love you.”

Shaking your head, you said, “You don’t.”

He took a step forward, wedging his foot on the door jam so you couldn’t close it on him. “I do,” he said, his eyes pleading, baring into yours. “You know that I do. You know I’ve never let anybody else see the real me. Nobody but you.”

Tears spilled onto your cheeks then, and he wiped them away gently. Despite everything, you couldn’t back away. “It doesn’t matter,” you croaked. “You only went out with me so you could help her ruin my life.”

Azriel opened his mouth, as if to reply, but then shut it. 

You laughed humorlessly. “See? Even you don’t have a comeback.”

His eyes softened, his rough fingers still absentmindedly stroking your cheeks. “Please,” he said again. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not enough,” you whispered, your heart breaking all over again as you looked up at him, at the pain in his eyes.

“How do I fix it?” He whispered back, tears sliding freely down his cheeks now.

“I don’t know,” you said, stepping back out of his grasp. “Please, Az. I just -- I need to be alone right now.”

He nodded, drawing his arm across his face to wipe the tears away. “Okay. Okay, I’ll umm -- I’ll see you later?”

You didn’t know how to answer that, didn’t know if you would see him again at all. He took a step back, into the hallway. 

Without another word, you shut the door.

Especially knowing where that awful bet had originated, you refused to let Azriel and Claire get in your head for finals. You buckled down, spending entire days at the library studying, writing papers, finishing projects. 

It was helpful, actually. You didn’t allow yourself to think about him, about all the memories you had that had become so tainted and confusing. 

By the end of the semester, you had maintained all your A’s, passing every final with flying colors. And thus, secured the very top spot of the Dean’s list.

Azriel had been texting and calling every day. You left them all unanswered. 

You hadn’t yet had time to think, to process through the hurt. 

A new text chimed as you were packing up your car to head home for the summer. 

Saw the list. Nicely done, bookworm. I know it doesn’t matter, but I really am proud of you. Looks like all that hard work paid off ❤️

Despite everything, there was a swell of emotion in your chest at his words. God, why did everything have to be so awful?

Later, you were hefting your last box into your trunk when you heard the distinct sound of a motorcycle slowing down behind you. Your heart raced. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to see him again or not.

Slowly, you turned around to see Azriel sliding off the bike, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, somewhat tentatively.

“Hi,” you said softly. 

He nodded to your car, his expression grave. “You’re leaving?”

“Back home for the summer,” you said, unable to take your eyes off him. He looked tired. And sad. 

A moment passed silently, the two of you just looking at each other, pain hanging in the air between you.

“I miss you,” he said quietly. 

You sighed. Willed yourself to be brave. “I miss you, too,” you admitted. 

Something like hope gleamed in his eyes. “I love you,” he murmured. 

“I --” you started, and couldn’t bear it. “I need time.”

He looked crestfallen, like you had just punched him in the gut, but he nodded. “The summer?”

You swallowed. “Okay,” you said. “Okay. I get the summer, and I’ll find you in the fall. We’ll talk then.”

“Thank you,” he said, quietly. “Thank you for… for that. For talking to me now,” he winced. “I know I don’t deserve it.”

“No, you don’t,” you said, but there was no malice in it. You were too tired. “I get the summer, Az. Don’t contact me until school starts.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but agreed. “Okay. I’ll see you in September,” he said, backing up towards his bike. “Have a good summer, bookworm,” he added with the slightest of smiles, before he slid on his helmet and drove away.

---

You spent most of the summer moping around, reading books, and trying to sort through everything that happened, all the feelings you had. 

For three months, you sifted through every moment that Azriel and you had shared together, picking them apart, deciphering every movement. 

It may have been slightly unhealthy.

You believed that what you and Azriel had was real. You believed that he did love you. And you couldn’t deny that you loved him. That maybe you always would. 

Was it worth it to deny yourself the person who had made you so happy? Who had taught you new things, who had helped you out of your comfort zone?

As September grew closer, you still weren’t sure. 

 ---

Azriel got more and more anxious as the summer came to a close. It had been torture to not contact you at all, but he knew he was in no position to be asking you for anything, so he did as you asked. 

The hurt on your face those months ago was still a clear image in his mind that haunted his nightmares. He would never forgive himself for hurting you. 

Yet, he couldn’t stop imagining what would happen when he saw you again. Would you give him another chance? You would have to be a saint to even contemplate that. But then again, you were the best person he had ever known. If anyone would be able to forgive, it would be you.

Scowling, he stomped that shred of hope down. He couldn’t go into this having any expectations. 

Soon, he would know.

---

It was bittersweet coming back to school. Academia was where you thrived. You felt right at home in the library, stacks of papers all around you. 

And you used to feel at home with Azriel. 

You sighed at the thought. The first day of classes was tomorrow. You had told Azriel not to contact you until school started back up again, and knowing him, he would take that seriously. 

Deep down, you knew what you wanted to do. It terrified you, though. 

Sure enough, the next morning, you had a text from him:

Hey, bookworm. Hope your first day of classes goes well. 

The slightest smile spread across your lips. You knew he was probably dying to ask when he could see you, but was trying to keep it light. Leave the ball in your court.

For the first time since everything, you texted him back.

Thanks, Az. Yours, too. 

He opened it immediately. After a moment, you willed yourself to send another:

Wanna meet up at the tennis courts tonight? 

His reply came at lightning speed:

7?

Reigning in your smile, you replied:

7.

You couldn’t remember ever being this nervous as you walked to the tennis courts. There were a few people playing, so you sat underneath a tree nearby, willing your legs to stop shaking. 

Right on time, a familiar motorcycle turned into the parking lot. He spotted you immediately, striding over to you with unsure steps. 

“Hey, beautiful,” he said quietly. 

You looked up at him, your heart racing at the familiarity you felt. “Hi,” you said, and after the briefest hesitation, you patted the grass next to you. You weren’t sure you would be able to stand. 

Immediately, he plopped down across from you, his knees only inches from yours as he faced you. 

His eyes were locked on yours. “How was your summer?” he said, his voice cracking slightly. 

“Okay,” you said. “How was yours?”

“Okay,” he said quietly. 

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Okay, here’s the thing. I did a lot of thinking. A lot of thinking. And I do love you, Az.”

You paused, not sure how to word what you were feeling. 

“But?” Azriel said, his voice dripping with trepidation, his eyes guarded.

“But it’s going to take some time before I can trust you again.”

Azriel swallowed, his eyes never wavering from yours. 

He seemed like he was waiting for you to continue before he said anything, so you added, quietly, “I am willing to try, though. To give us another chance.”

The tautness in his body released, relief flooding his features. “Really?” he croaked, tears swimming in his eyes. 

You could only nod before he launched towards you, knocking you on your back, before he threaded his fingers through your hair, kissing you deeply. 

You laughed, as his other hand came up to cup your face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I swear I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” he said against your lips.

Wrapping your arms around him, you sighed into his kiss. “I know, Az. I know.”

“I love you,” he murmured, moving to kiss down your neck.

“I love you, too.”

“I missed you so much,” he groaned before kissing your lips again.

You giggled. “I missed you, too.”

He finally stopped kissing you, settling his elbows on either side of your head, leaning his forehead against yours. “Thank you. For giving me another chance.”

Smiling, you kissed him swiftly on the lips. “Don’t mess it up.”

“I won’t. I swear I won’t.”

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon in each other’s arms, going over your respective summers. 

Eventually, Azriel propped himself on an elbow, gazing at you with all the love in the world.

“What?” you asked. 

He grinned. “You wanna go mini golfing, bookworm?”

You couldn’t help but return his smile. “Only if I can help you again.”

Azriel leaned down to gently kiss your forehead. “It’s a deal.”

A/N: wanna see more of these two?? Check out part 2!

@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch

[daycourtofficial]

Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only one - part five

Pairing: Eris x Azriel x reader | WC: 6k | warnings: general angst, canon violence, blood, loose medical stuff that likely doesn’t make sense

Summary: avoiding Azriel only works for so long when he uses Rhysand to get you to see Eris one more time. You’re more than shocked when your meeting is ambushed, wounds making you reconsider things.

A/N: we’re insecure, and we don’t know what for! Anyway please enjoy 💕

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After Azriel had left you in the bathroom, you stood there for what had to have been hours, the last remnants of his warmth clinging to the air around you. You had never felt so alone, his rejection an intense sting you were certain branded your soul.

Your chest felt heavy with his presence. At some point in the night you had finally figured out how to shut him out. The iron was heavy as it shackled your heart, cutting off the mate who was supposed to protect you, not knowing he was who you needed protection from.

Sleep didn’t come to you that night and it was a battle the next night to sleep for even a few hours. Your mind felt stale and stagnated, yearning for the fixation that was his journals. Azriel had given the most recent one to you just before rejecting you, not even having the chance to crack the spine yet. His confession that Eris was above you still stung too much.

You spent most of your time outside of work now laying in bed, unable to stop your thoughts from analyzing every angle of your entire relationship with Azriel. You hardly slept, no idea how much time had passed in the stillness of your grief.

Rotting in bed was an option both Nesta and the House did not appreciate - the latter stopped giving you full meals, the former making her way into your room this afternoon informing you that you would be seen at dinner so she had proof you were alive and eating.

The last people you wanted to see were happily mated couples, practically rubbing their mateship in your face just by existing. The Mother was surely testing you in some way, and you weren’t sure if you could handle the outcome of failing.

You had left your room one singular night during your solitude. The moon had been bright through the windows as you snuck to the library, leaving a note for Clotho to deliver a book on failed mating bonds to your room in the House of Wind.

It was an unusual request, but you knew Clotho would do it. You spent many nights in the library pouring over textbooks, dropping off various sweets for Clotho and the other priestesses in offering and thanks for their help.

By the next afternoon the book was on your bedside table, placed there by the house no doubt to ease your embarrassment from the nosey eyes of Cassian. Now the book on broken bonds sat on top of the last journal you had gotten from Azriel, taunting you with your future within its pages.

They were all going to find out eventually that Azriel had rejected you, but that left you in an even more impossible situation. Reaching out for comfort from your friends meant Azriel’s secret mating with Eris became public knowledge. No matter how mad or upset you were with the both of them, that was a line you refused to cross.

Would Nesta and Cassian kick you out? If Azriel didn’t want you, surely you’ve lost the friendships you’ve made the past few years with his family?

Maybe you’ll move to Spring. Tamlin surely won’t notice if you just picked a spot and built a house.

You put your head in your hands, wanting to claw the possibilities out to find which one would save you from this grief.

Your self imposed isolation hadn’t kept you safe from seeing Azriel. You had asked Cassian to fly you home from work, a job he did with delight. You avoided dinners, changed your entire schedule to maximize your potential to avoid him.

And yet you’d pass him in the hallway, see him in the stairs, and find him in the kitchen. He was everywhere, each appearance only pissing you off further. Every time you ignored him, even going so far as to bump him with your shoulder when passing by.

But he never said anything. Just looked in your direction, his eyes not catching the light like they used to. His shadows don’t even follow you around anymore. They clung to Azriel like a second skin as if holding him upright.

Were you a failure? Had any other fae had such a short mating? Was it even truly a mating?

Your anger had been simmering for a while, but now as you descended the steps to dinner, your rage was palpable, nearly carrying it with you like Azriel does with his shadows. You craved it, needed it to hold you through seeing him, having to pretend he hasn’t laughed in the face of the Mother and carved out your heart.

But your anger was for naught as you approached the dining room. Azriel wasn’t there amongst the faces of his family, a rarity for the House of Wind. Usually dinners consisted of Nesta, Cassian, and Azriel, but tonight Rhys and Feyre were in attendance, a small Nyx situated on Feyre’s left.

Your fury tampered down, taking it off the heat and letting it cool down as you walked in, all eyes turning to you.

“Just in time! Now can we eat, Nes?” Cassian was impatient, his fork already in hand, clearly waiting for the second you showed up.

“Let her sit down first, Cassian.” Rhysand laughed. “Or perhaps you’re going to gnaw on her legs, hm?”

The growl of Cassian’s stomach rippled through the air, his body’s own testament to the discomfort it felt.

“Go ahead and dig in, I wouldn’t want Cassian to starve.” Cassian let out a ‘thank you’ between mouthfuls as you sat across from Nesta. She watched as you sat, her eyes tracking as you picked up the tongs to plate your food. She didn’t relax until you began eating, and even then it was only enough for her to eat.

You watched her watch you, confused about her intensity, not even paying attention to Rhys and Feyre’s light teasing of each other.

It was wonderful that they had happiness with each other. Good for them. You stabbed your chicken with a bit more force, chewing slowly, putting on a show for whatever Nesta was watching for.

“Azriel should be back in time tomorrow.” It was almost comical how quickly your ears tuned into the conversation at his name.

“In time for what? What’s going on tomorrow?” It was the first words you had spoken, and you didn’t notice the glances they all shot to each other. Rhys turned his attention to you, violet eyes kind as he spoke.

“You and Azriel will be seeing Eris tomorrow.”

“We are?” The incredulity of your tone could be heard from streets away, other family dinners halting at the annoyed tone that floated on the breeze.

“Yes, he told me Eris is quite chatty with you. Azriel left word that Eris had something important to share and that it was urgent the two of you met with him.”

You blinked a few times, trying to push your anger aside to make way for the bewilderment. Had Eris called for this? Or was it Azriel, finally wishing to put an end to this?

Your heart hammered, the string around it pulsating tighter, worried it would be broken and left unraveled to slosh around inside your chest for eternity.

“Maybe Eris likes you.” Cassian made kissing sounds at you. Your eyes remained fixed on Rhysand, as if the longer you looked the more answers you’d get. He tilted his head, the slight caress of a claw tapping onto your mental shields the only thing to get you out of your trance.

“Don’t be gross, Cass.” Feyre chided despite her giggles. “I don’t think he’s capable of enjoying anything.”

“Eris likes fresh blood.”

“So did Amren.”

“Rhys, I’m not sure if I should go.” You broke up their joking, finally responding to Rhys’s prodding. You were pleading with your High Lord, trying to make him understand you can’t.

“I know he’s a bit much, but if Azriel’s right and Eris has some soft spot for you, it’d be in our best interest to exploit it.”

How far Cassian had been from the truth. Eris would delight in nothing more than ripping out your arteries with his teeth.

You nodded silently, looking back to your plate, pushing the peas around. You don’t say another word, you’re not even keeping watch of Nesta before retiring for the evening.

-

Rhysand hadn’t given you a time to expect to leave, so you spent the morning working with Madja, telling her you’d have to leave at noon to attend to some affairs Rhysand had asked of you. The older fae was annoyed, her wrinkles deepening, but she kept her mouth shut before walking off, muttering something about young males in power.

A few patients had come in, mostly to have previous injuries checked for an all clear. The cold snap in Velaris had left several fae slipping on ice, many twisted ankles keeping you busy the past few weeks.

You left promptly at noon, saying goodbye to Madja before heading out. Seeing your most recent patients had you checking every step for ice, ensuring sure footing before fully putting your weight down as you headed to the end of the road, already seeing the tips of Cassian’s wings.

You bundled yourself in your coat, burying your face into your scarf as you began mentally preparing yourself for seeing Azriel. Eris you could handle - he was cruel, but manageable. He never pretended to be something he wasn’t. But Azriel kept popping in and out, handling you delicately and with care before shattering you unexpectedly. Your heart was beating faster at the thought of seeing him, while also sinking deep into your stomach.

Your eyes followed the cobblestones, being mindful of any patches of ice, too busy to notice until you were right in front of him that it wasn’t Cassian you had seen. His blue chest siphon m was the first thing you saw, a soft expletive leaving your lips before you could stop it.

“Hello to you too.”

You finally looked up, his shadows peeking out from the collar of his leathers, tracing up his neck in beautiful patterns. You nodded in greeting.

“Where’s Cassian?”

“We’re heading straight for Spring, so I told him I could come by and get you.”

It was painfully silent as the two of you stood there, Azriel’s head moving constantly to try to catch your eye. His annoyance flared up in your chest, and you were too absorbed in it to shut it down.

“Talk to me.” His voice was pleading, but with a sharp edge.

“I don’t want to.” Your tone was petulant, a childishness to it that was uncommon.

“Why not?”

“You’ve made your opinion of me very clear. Besides, don’t you need Eris’s permission to talk to me first?” He sighed, the siphon on his chest glowing slightly. “Surely he’ll be upset you had to hold onto me to winnow here. Maybe he’ll have soap on hand to scrub your hands of me once and for all.”

“You’re being childish.”

“Can we just get this over with? I know why we’re here and I don’t exactly want to linger for a long time.”

Azriel’s eyebrows shot up at the curtness in your tone, but you couldn’t be bothered with niceties anymore. You were exhausted of chasing after him, begging for his attention, just for it to always be on Eris. The sooner this was over, the sooner you could move on.

He reached his hands out, gently scooping you into his arms. You took care not to dive nose first into his neck like last time, not wanting his scent to overpower you or make you spiral further.

The bond inside of you was rattling in your ribcage, desperate for you to fight, to snark, to do something to get Azriel’s attention. But you blocked it out, only looking ahead for the entirety of the flight.

The two of you landed in the familiar spot, an earthy scent clinging to the air. The spot was empty, and you felt Azriel’s stomach drop in disappointment at the knowledge through the bond. Your hand rubbed across your face before you quickly tampered down the bond, not wanting to know how they’re feeling about this.

The two of you waited for several minutes. The chittering of the forest was loud, heightening the awkward silence. It was so green and bright in Spring, the plant growth nearly blinding after the intense snowfall Night had been experiencing.

You felt Azriel’s eyes on you, hazel irises unwilling to depart from your form. Your name was a soft exhale from his lips, a pleading tone that would have sent past you spiraling. It only furthered your resolve.

“Don’t do that. I’m only here out of duty to Rhysand. My High Lord asked this of me, and frankly, it’ll likely be the last time Eris ever sees me.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means I’m done. Clearly the Mother was wrong and clearly you and Eris both know that. It’s just taken me until now to figure that out myself.”

“That’s not true.”

You finally looked at him. Your beautiful, beautiful mate, who had always been so kind to you. He had been nothing more than a charade, a carefully crafted story to deter from his actual mate. You straightened your shoulders to gather your words, trying to voice your exact thoughts.

“No, Azriel. I’m done being your second choice, I’m done being strung along. I don’t want that for me, and as my mate, you shouldn’t want it either. So treat me with the respect I deserve and recognize I’m only here because of Rhys’s asking. You and Eris have made your opinions of me very clear.”

Azriel opened his mouth, but rage flew from yours. The dam had broken, and now a flood was headed directly for the shadowsinger.

“Was it just so I wouldn’t say anything about you and Eris? Was that why you kept stringing me along? Keep your precious bond between you and Eris, keep it to yourselves, I no longer want any part of it.” It felt incredible to say the words aloud, to try to get the point across. But his face twisted with anger, his wings twitching behind him.

“You were never just a secret keeper. You’re my friend, you’re important to me. I told you about Eris in an effort to show you something! I’m trying to reprioritize, but it’s hard.”

For the first time in ages, a shadow moved from Azriel’s body, swirling around you. You were too caught up to notice the little thing, its attempts to calm you down failing.

“Azriel, when have you ever prioritized me? Every time something happens, you’re gone.”

“What do you want me to do? Eris is my mate.”

“And what am I?”

The question cut through Azriel, slicing between his ribs, the pain fracturing through his chest. He didn’t get a chance to reply before Eris materialized in the woods.

Eris was in more regal attire now, a vest covering his tunic that was likely thousands of hours of embroidery. The stiff collar made his jawline seem sharper, his features even more cutting in such regalia. Eris blended into the trees, making the natural world bend a knee to his beauty.

“I see the two of you are incapable of leaving me alone.” He didn’t even look at the pair of you, looking instead at his manicured nails. Filed to a point, the red polish made it look as if blood were dripping from his fingertips.

“Eris, stop.”

“It’s fine, Azriel. I came on your invitation, after all. What is this most pressing matter?”

“We need to talk.”

“Think of that all by yourself?”

“Shut up, Eris. You know what I mean.”

“I don’t know anything going on in your life as of late.”

You looked up, surprised at that tidbit. Maybe you weren’t the only one uncertain of where you stood with the shadowsinger.

“I’m trying to figure it out, Eris.” Azriel’s words were icy, coming from some deep, dark depths of himself.

“What is there to figure out?”

The pause after Eris’s question was too still. The forest was quiet, all birdsong gone. Not even insect chittering to fill the gaps. The world was still outside of the three of you. You looked up into the canopy above you, a chill going down your spine.

“Azriel, I asked you-“

The sound that cut off Eris was a quick burst of wind as an arrow came whizzing past. Azriel was the first to move, pushing you onto the ground, his body laying on top of yours, sheltering you. You pushed against him, trying to get up, trying to see, but he wasn’t budging. Panic flooded you as his wings formed a cocoon around the two of you, what should have been a womb of safety felt more like a cage.

Wood splintered as arrows hit trees, impossible to tell how many fae were targeting the three of you. It sounded like hundreds of arrows, each whizzing past at speeds that could easily kill.

Your breathing quickened as a new worry overtook you: had Azriel been shot? Was he injured?

And where was Eris?

Azriel grunted into your ear, his body jolting. His arms cradled your head, not even a slither of light coming through. This darkness was so different from the one that followed Azriel. It felt nearly suffocating, not even his shadows pittered about in it. It felt cold and hopeless

You could hear the roar of flames beyond the shelter of Azriel’s body, the crackling getting closer to the pair of you. Sweating and breathing heavy, it felt like Azriel’s body weighed even more. You tried to push him off again, but your ragged breathing made it even harder.

Something reached through Azriel’s body, a warm touch gripping your wrist. A flicker of light made it through, not enough for you to see anymore than a blinding white. Suddenly the world shifted, the mud beneath you hardening into wood floors. Azriel’s body was heavier now, his weight digging into you.

“Push.” A muffled voice came from somewhere beyond Azriel, nearly muffled by his body. Fear struck through you - was this whoever had ambushed you? Was Azriel the intended target and you were simply a bystander?

Or was Eris the target, carted off to some court while they dealt with the witnesses?

Despite the panic, your heart tugged in the direction of the voice, practically guiding your arms to push Azriel from you. As you did, more and more light filtered to your eyes, his shadows clinging tight to his body, securing their master’s wounds.

Pale hands wrapped around Azriel’s torso, and you thought you’d never be so happy to see the ring clad fingers of the Vanserra. It took a moment, but Eris was able to lift Azriel enough for you to crawl out from beneath him.

You glanced over Eris, the only injury to be seen were cuts on his face and arms. Relief flooded you at the sight of him, your breaths still shallow. You felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins, only speeding up with the lack of danger. The cabin was dark around you, the place seeming more empty than when you were here last.

“Aren’t you a healer?” Eris had been speaking to you for several moments by this point, his words a buzzing you couldn’t make out until now.

“Yes.”

“Then help him.”

You were frozen, unable to do anything other than look at your hands. You had never been in combat before - during the Battle of Hybern you had been left in the city to run the clinic, the only one left behind.

Azriel’s blood was on your hands, sinking into your skin. Are your bones marked red now?

“Useless.” Eris was a wildfire, moving quickly down the hall before coming back, his arms full of tonics and bandages. The sight snapped you back, your thoughts coming in full force at what to do. You stood, moving quickly to stop Eris.

“Stop, you need to give him some pain medication first.” You rifled through the bottles and bits, each of Azriel’s labored breaths making your heart sink further and further.

“No, we need the arrows out of his back, they’re killing him.”

“I can give him some medicine to manage the pain first. Removing the arrows will mean we’ll have to act quick to stop the blood. It’s better to give him something for the pain now.” Your voice took a sharp edge, the commanding tone of someone in charge. “Then we take out the arrows in his wings.”

Eris’s face was hard as he looked toward you, no doubt hating you even more. Azriel dove to protect you - his state now should have been you. You found the bottle you needed, it’s not as strong as you’d like, but it’s the best you can do.

“Azriel, you have to swallow this.” Your hand gently caressed his cheek, letting him know someone was there. He slowly opened his mouth, allowing you to pour the purple liquid down it. The grimace he made almost made you laugh, like this were any other time, having him eat something unappetizing because Nesta had made it.

Fire stung at your fingers, but you ignored Eris as Azriel finished the potion.

“Okay, we need to trim off the tops of the arrows so we can pull them out more easily. Eris, find a knife and use your fire to sterilize it.”

He started to open his mouth, but you leveled him with a stare that had him quickly closing it.

“Are you going to waste our time by second guessing everything I tell you? If you bothered to let Azriel tell you anything you would know I work directly beneath the court’s healer and am quite competent.”

Eris’s sharp canines protruded from his mouth, a low growl emitting from him, but no more protests as he heated a knife.

“Az, we’re going to cut off the arrow heads and remove them from your wings. Can you stretch your wings out for me?” You rubbed your thumb across his cheek, trying to offer any tenderness he could hold onto.

He nodded so softly you hardly noticed it, his wing unfurling ever so slowly. It didn’t extend fully, but he got about three fourths of the way there.

“I’m going to help you stretch it out this last bit, okay? I need to see all of your wings to help.” You sent a light pulse of what you hoped was soothing down the bond before closing it off again, bending to rest on your knees as you sat in front of his left wing.

Several arrows had pierced through the delicate membrane, but only four remained caught in his wings. You swallowed down your guilt - it wasn’t what Azriel needed now. He needed Madja’s apprentice, not his rejected mate right now. You took a deep breath before extending his wing further, ignoring Azriel’s groans of pain.

“Eris, hold his wing taut.” The uncertainty slipped off like a second skin, making way for the commanding presence you took on for the care of your patients. Once Eris had his wing, you took the hot knife from his hand, quickly and methodically snipping off the heads of the arrows, making sure to hold the base to keep it stabilized before pulling each one out.

You pulled the wood slowly, trying to keep the wood from grazing his skin again. Each arrow went into a pile behind you until his left wing was clean of them, the holes they left the only reminder of them. The two of you repeated the process for his right wing, this one only having three arrows in it, the extraction going much more quickly.

“Is he still awake?” Eris shuffled before a grunt of agreement came from Azriel.

“Azriel, we have to move to the arrows on your back. It’s going to hurt, but we’re going to move fast.” You looked back to the bottles of potions Eris had found, searching for anything that could help Azriel clot faster or sanitize the wounds.

“Why didn’t we do his back first? It’s worse and the arrows are draining him.”

“Because I’m not sure how much blood he’s going to lose. It was a 50/50 gamble, either way.”

“A gamble? Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“Of course I know what I’m doing, Eris! I’m dealing with a squabbling family member who thinks they know better and are keeping me from my job. My job right now is to save his life, not argue with you over semantics. Now either shut up or get out.”

You don’t even watch to see his response, your attention solely on Azriel again. Your hands worked of their own accord, rubbing potions across his back, careful around the protruding arrows. You eventually looked up to find Eris just staring at you.

“Have him drink this.”

Eris took the vial, coaxing it down Azriel’s throat, murmuring softly to the shadowsinger.

“Do you have any towels or rags? We’ll need as many as you have.” Your hands felt down his back, his skin riddled with scars, each one telling a story. You couldn’t fixate on them - how the small nick by his third rib was made by steel a little over a century ago. The sideways gash across his fourth vertebrae made from a carbon blade roughly twenty years prior.

You focused on his current wounds, pinpointing how far the arrows have lodged themselves. You closed your eyes, feeling for his body. A path unfurled in your mind’s eye, following the layers of tissue and muscle the arrow penetrated.

Both arrows avoided the soft, delicate organs housed in his chest, but the longer they stayed inside, the likelihood they’d cause more damage to him.

“Eris, as I remove the arrows, I need you to immediately place rags on the wound. The arrow didn’t pierce any organs, but it cut through several veins. Is Azriel still awake?”

“Yes,” it came out as a croak, so different from Eris’s usual snark and calm.

Eris was ready as you pulled the arrow out, quick and unflinching. A spurt of blood followed the arrow, shooting onto you before Eris covered the wound.

“I can either move onto the next one or start trying to close this one up.” You were muttering to yourself, trying to decide on a course of action.

“The faebane in the arrowhead will make his healing take longer, it’d be better to pull it out.”

The faebane from the arrows was already swimming through Azriel’s bloodstream, but Eris was right - the sooner it comes out, the better for Azriel. You nodded to Eris.

“Right. Keep holding pressure while I pull this other one out. Then we’ll switch sides and I’ll start working on healing him.”

The second arrow was much messier, Eris’s rags darkening with blood much more quickly. The air held a copper tang that was getting stronger by the minute, your concern rising with it.

“Eris, do you know how to count heartbeats?” You don’t even watch for a response before you start explaining. “Count how many times his heart beats for a minute, and then keep repeating. After a few times you’ll know if his heart rate is steady or not.”

You focused on one wound at a time, magic making its way through Azriel’s skin, slowly stitching up the path of destruction the arrowhead forged. It was slow work, his body fighting against the faebane with every breath.

Every ten minutes or so you made Eris help Azriel drink water, hoping the fluids will help wash out the toxin. Each time he did, he’d also make a call out of Azriel’s heart rate.

Azriel remained unconscious, his heart rate changing drastically every few minutes. It had dropped quickly a time or two, causing Eris to panic, but Azriel’s heart rate never got below a threshold, always staying where it could manage.

The sun had set at some point, the cabin surrounded by darkness. Your hands ached from stillness, your joints crying out to move even just a little, but you refused, remaining steadfast. You were a conduit for the magic that lived inside you, magic that was slowly stitching Azriel back together again.

“Here.” Eris sat next to you, holding the cup of water before your face. You hadn’t heard him move, too focused on Azriel. You shook your head, pointedly looking down to your hands.

“I can’t.”

“I can help you.” You looked to find a new expression on his face, something you’re not sure anyone had ever seen on the male. As much as cruelty sharpened his cheekbones, the softness of his eyes made him nearly blinding in the moonlight. You nodded, unable to speak. He held the cup up to your lips, the cold liquid refreshing as it trailed down your throat. Your hands remained on Azriel, but you gulped down the entire cup, not realizing just how parched you were.

Eris pulled the cup away, settling in next to you. More time passed, all of it a blur as you kept your focus on Azriel. Neither of you spoke. Azriel’s face was pale, from blood loss or his shadows having gone missing, you’re not sure.

You slumped back against the couch, rolling your stiff neck. Azriel’s wounds weren’t perfectly healed, but your magic had repaired his blood vessels enough to allow you a break.

It was easy to get swept up in healing - you have a focus, a goal. You know what steps to take next. But as Azriel’s breathing remained strong and steady, yours became shallow. The reality of the day hitting you all at once, Eris’s warmth from next to you making you feel claustrophobic.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Your words were quiet, not much louder than Azriel’s breathing. He was still so close to you, his eyes closed as he laid there. He looked so peaceful.

A month ago you would have salivated at the idea of touching him for hours, but now the smell of his blood made you want to throw up the contents of your stomach.

“He’s yours, Eris. I can’t - you won. I’ll go away, move to the continent to be as far away as possible.” A soft confession that had been lingering in the back of your mind the whole day. You were foolish to believe you could best Eris, completely underestimating the deep well Azriel and Eris’s mating bond ran to.

“You’ll do no such thing.”

“You despise me. If you feel anything like I do, you want me gone.”

Eris was still, his heat nearly unbearable despite the distance between you two. It was so hard to breathe around him, as if he were drawing in all the air for himself.

“He doesn’t want me. I’m tired of fighting for his attention when his mind always goes back to you. He was my friend for so long, and the fact he can just toy with me like this.. I’m not sure how to handle it.”

All you could hear was Eris’s breathing, but you knew he was listening.

“He was my friend and now I’m- well, I don’t know what I am. He’s going to pick you, Eris. He doesn’t want me.”

The confession you had been holding so tight slipped from your tongue like silk. The words sent the bond in your chest into a chorus of screams, their agony the perfect soundtrack to your turmoil.

“Say the word and he’s yours.”

For once, Eris was quiet, no words coming from his mouth. He only shook his head, the movement so precise and imperceptible you thought you dreamt it. You looked back at Azriel, needing to prepare to winnow the two of you away.

Coated in his blood, you had to leave sooner rather than later - Rhysand is surely on the cusp of worry, and there was only so much explaining you could do without forfeiting the cabin.

You watched Eris as you grabbed Azriel’s hands, his eyes reflecting all the hurt you’ve felt the past few weeks. Eris was the easy choice to be mad at - you were tied to Azriel, Eris was just some male tethered to the other end of your mate. But watching him keep his gaze on Azriel, some part of your anger to the redhead cracked, allowing the words to come from you.

“I’ll bring him back to you. He’ll be okay.”

“Thank you.”

Eris’s face hardened as the world blurred, your grip on Azriel strong as the ground gave out beneath you, the wood flooring exchanged for the hard stone of the House of Wind. The two words followed you through space and time, ringing in your ears.

Those two words broke you completely, every ounce of sorrow and pain breaking through. There were no soft cries, only guttural wailing.

It was Nesta you saw first, having followed the loud commotion throughout the house. She found you gripping Azriel, softly crying out to him before she pulled deep in her chest to get Cassian’s attention.

She crouched next to you, wrapping her arms around your shoulder as fat tears rolled down your face.

The bond cried out in pain, practically pleading with you to change your decision, but you knew it was the right choice. Once he healed enough, you’d sever it. You had to. Someone had to put an end to the madness, and you could do what Azriel couldn’t.

Azriel almost died because of this stupid arrangement.

Too lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice when Cassian or Rhysand arrived, their voices indistinguishable to the inner anguish you felt. You were exhausted, your soul crying out in pain. You swore you could hear tiny cries echoing how you felt.

Through the thick fog of your thoughts, you heard Cassian’s voice clear as a bell.

“I bet Eris is behind this. Bastard tricked us.” You crouched over Azriel, becoming even more defensive of the Illyrian. It was a ridiculous stance, trying to shield him from his brother, but you couldn’t help it.

“It wasn’t Eris.” It came out more as a snarl that sent Cassian reeling back. “I don’t know who, but they- it was bad and- Eris winnowed us away to some clearing.”

Your pleas were gut wrenching, anger dissipating and making way for what you had pushed too far down to heal him.

“Azriel’s bandaged.”

“Eris left and got us supplies. He came back for us. He wouldn’t do this, you have to believe me.” You were sobbing now, clutching Azriel’s arm to your chest like that would fix everything. Your breaths were quick, bringing in enough air to sob once more.

“He didn’t - and Azriel-“ arms wrapped you from behind, gently pulling you into their embrace. The smell of leather and sweat enveloped you, Cassian’s strong arms slowly pulling you from Azriel.

You were blubbering now, mostly cries of Eris’s name over and over. You were scared and full of guilt for Azriel, but your mind kept playing that tender moment between Eris and Azriel over and over again. Your heart cried out for the redhead, a deep well of sadness that you had to pull him away from his mate.

Footsteps retreated away from you, but you reached out, clinging to Azriel’s sleeve to remind yourself he was still there.

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A/N: if you’ve read this far, just know I’m a bit on the fence about this part so don’t be mean to me 🔫

[stargirlfeyre]

The pregnancy plotline in ACOSF kinda ruined the original trilogy for me. I don’t think people truly grasp how much of a betrayal the pregnancy secret was.

For Rhys, who has seen firsthand how strong and capable Feyre is, to decide to keep vital information about her own life from her is disgusting. To make matters worst, he told everyone around her, including Nesta, who at that point showed zero compassion or love toward Feyre. Not only did he tell everyone, but he instructed them to keep Feyre in the dark.

I understand that the Inner Circle has been loyal to Rhys for centuries. They see him as more than a leader; they see him as a friend and a brother. So while it doesn’t justify their part in keeping Feyre in the dark, I can understand it. But what I can’t understand is why they showed no concern over Feyre. It honestly seemed that they, particularly Cassian and Azriel, cared more about Feyre’s sisters than the fact that Feyre might die.

Even if they hated Feyre, they should’ve done more to help Rhys find a solution. After all, they knew that if Feyre dies, Rhys does too. But they didn’t seem very fazed by the very real threat of their friend and high lord dying. If anything, it was more of an annoyance to their lives.

Say what you want about Rhys, but he went through absolute hell for his family. He spent fifty years enslaved, being abused, and mistreated all so his friends were safe. And they (mostly Cassian and Azriel, as I don’t know what Mor was doing at this time but I’d like to believe that she was making herself useful in some way) couldn’t even try to help him?

And of course, there is Nesta. When people say that Nesta telling Feyre about her pregnancy was a good thing, they’re completely ignoring that the ONLY reason Nesta even told Feyre was because she wanted to hurt her. Nesta, along with everyone else in the Inner Circle, initially agreed to keep the secret from Feyre - which I still don’t understand.

Why did Nesta, who didn’t like Rhys and had no allegiance to him, decide to keep Feyre’s issues pregnancy a secret? She knew, as stated later in the book, that keeping this secret from Feyre was awful - so why not tell her immediately?

Keeping Feyre’s pregnancy issues from her is bad enough, but to then throw it in her face as a way to hurt her is simply inexcusable. SJM could’ve used Nesta telling Feyre about her pregnancy as a way to heal the sister’s strained relationship but instead she used it to further damage their relationship.

Honestly, while I love Feyre, I hate the fact that SJM doesn’t allow her to get angry anymore. She’s not allowed to hold grudges or scream, she simply forgives. She forgives the Inner Circle for keeping the secret from her. She forgives Rhys for keeping the secret from her, but telling everyone else around her (including her abusive sister) the secret while instructing them to keep silent. She forgives Nesta for keeping the secret, using her potential death as a weapon to hurt her, and abusing her for years.

I really don’t understand how someone can get pass this level of betrayal. I know that they only kept the secret for a couple weeks, but the fact that they kept the secret even for a day doesn’t sit right with me. Everyone in her family knew that she might die, that her child might die, that her partner might die - and the only reason she found out was because her sister wanted to hurt her.

I just feel sad for Feyre. She finally finds a man who she loves and trusts, but after this secret, I don’t see how she can ever completely trust him anymore. Same with the Inner Circle.

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