#The Starlight Heir

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 3/5

Book Blurb:

“His Imperial Majesty King Zarek requests your presence as his esteemed guest.”

When the gold-dusted court invitation arrives at Suraya Saab’s forge, she believes it’s a joke. Nobles might seek her skills as a bladesmith—one of few who can imbue her work with precious jadu, the last source of magic in the realm—but she has no qualifications as a potential bride for the crown prince. Still, the invitation is the chance at adventure, and the means to finally visit the capital city her late mother loved.

But what awaits her in Kaldari is nothing she could have imagined—and fraught with danger. It’s not the crown prince, but his impossibly handsome, illegitimate half-brother, Roshan, who captures her interest…and her ire. The invitation isn’t a quest to find a suitable bride, but a veiled hunt for the Starkeeper—a girl rumored to hold the magic of the stars in her blood. And across the city, unrest is brewing between the noble houses and the rebel militia.

When the rebels attack, Suraya and Roshan find themselves on the run, trying to deny their simmering attraction and the knowledge that Suraya herself might be the Starkeeper. But Roshan is guarding secrets of his own. And with no control over the power stirring within her, Suraya has drawn the attention of a dark god, an immortal whose interest might be the biggest threat of all.

Review:

She's a bladesmith who has been invited into the palace to be chosen as the crown prince's bride but finds herself falling for the prince's illegitimate half brother, all the while the hunt for a magical girl with powers that could potential raise a god begins... and her own powers might be exactly those. Suraya is a bladesmith who has dreamed about seeing the capital city that her mother loved, so when an invitation comes for her to visit to participate in the chance to be the crown prince's bride she can't resist the opportunity to see the palace forge. Yet when she arrives there nothing is what she expects and worst of all, she's falling for the crown prince's handsome illegitimate brother. Then the crown prince announces a hunt for a girl known as the Starkeeper, someone who has magic of stars in her blood and can be used to raise a god. Suraya's own magic begins to slip up... and she just might be the very person the crown prince is hunting. The only person she can turn two is Roshan, the illegitimate son of the dead king. Roshan is hiding his own secrets, and as they grow closer... his secrets might threaten to destroy the delicate relationship between them. There is also the strange dreams Suraya has been having of a strange god who she seems to have a very physical and loving relationship with... but she can't recall but he haunts her every dream. This is the first book in a series and its a mixture of fantasy, romance, and a bit of politics. It is Amalie's first fantasy novel and I adore her historical romances a lot, but this one just kind of missed the mark for me. It was just felt so young adult and the story just never really hooked me. The romance just didn't feel all that fleshed out or well developed. This book sets up the rest of the series but honestly just doesn't really pace well and I just wish I could like the characters more and feel more invested because it had potential but as the first book it just wasn't as great of a start as I had hoped. I am a bit curious where the second book will go and how they will flesh out the relationship between the three characters. If you like fantasy romances with spice and characters who feel a bit more YA I would say give it a go.

Release Date: January 7, 2025

Publication/Blog: Ash and Books (ash-and-books.tumblr.com)

*Thanks Netgalley and Avon and Harper Voyager | Avon for seding me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[allbookedupblogstuff]

The Starlight Heir by Amalie Howard

TL;DR: Quite a disappointment. Source: Netgalley – Thanks you to the publisher! Plot: Randomly chosen women are made to compete for a prince’s hand in marriage, and it gets spicy. Characters: Honestly, no thank you. I didn’t enjoy them at all. Setting: We got the flavor of our inspiration here, but it was lost entirely to the modern slang and plot that hurtled forward with little to no…

[thereadingcafe]

[sandythereadingcafe]

REVIEW

THE STARLIGHT HEIR by Amalie Howard at The Reading Cafe:

' a fast-packed mythology, epic fantasy, romance, betrayal, love, deceit, with a Persian/Indian inspired theme'

[beckysbook5]

Waiting on Wednesday!

“Waiting On Wednesday” is a weekly meme that first originated at Breaking the Spine but has since linked up with “Can’t Wait Wednesday” at Wishful Endings now that the original creator is unable to host it anymore. Either way, this fun feature is a chance to showcase the upcoming releases that we can’t wait to get our hands on! Hello, hello! I hope you’re all having great weeks so far. This week…

[acourtofmishapandmistakes]

Shadowsongs

Summary: After Rhys and Feyre decide to take a trip away to the Summer Court for the night to escape the thralls of their newborn, Azriel is left caring for Nyx and finds that his greatest battle might just be getting him to sleep. I also recently rewatched the Labyrinth and forgot how much that movie slapped so the song from that is included.

As the Velaris tower clock chimed midnight, the sitting room of the River House was enveloped in the soft, ambient glow of faelight. Azriel sunk deeper into the plush, green, velvet couch, his expansive wings draped elegantly over the back of the chair, eyes heavy with exhaustion. His hand rhythmically patted the back of the squirming bundle nestled snugly against his chest. The babe, Nyx, resisted sleep with the tenacity of an Illyrian warrior, his tiny fists punching the air as if to protest the very concept of bedtime. 

The room was a playful mess, strewn with toys - dolls lay abandoned, blankets were tossed aside, and bottles had rolled under chairs. Azriel had assured Feyre and Rhys he could manage babysitting for a day and night. They desperately needed a break after months of non-stop parenting in tandem with running the Night Court, and a trip to the breezy shores of the Summer Court was the only thing keeping Feyre from collapsing into tears. Feyre had sobbed when they left, overwhelming Azriel with reminders of Nyx’s schedule and a litany of do’s and don'ts, which Azriel already knew inside and out. Her maternal instincts flared to the point where Rhys had to gentle pull her away, reassuring her that Nyx would be fine for one night, and, if anything, they should be more concerned about Azriel surviving Nyx than Nyx surviving Azriel. 

Typically, everyone shared babysitting duties throughout the week day, but with Nesta and Cassian off in the Autumn Court, Elain incapacitated by her first fae cycle, and Amren claiming she would rather cut out her own tongue than be left alone with a babe, the responsibility had fallen to Azriel. Leaving Nyx overnight for the first time might have been a tad ambitious. 

“Come on, Nyx,” he coaxed with a whisper of amusement. “You’ve got to give in at some point.” Azriel briefly considered that perhaps this was how the victims of his torture efforts may have felt when they had been kept awake for hours on end. Perhaps he should start having them babysit a fussy Illeryian babe instead of cutting off fingers. He chuckled to himself before pushing the thought away.

Yet, Nyx remained defiant, his violet eyes locked on the ceiling, deep in thought, as if unraveling the secrets of the cosmos rather than giving in to slumber. Azriel exhaled deeply, his fingers threading through his tousled black hair. After learning about Feyre’s pregnancy he had stealthily devoured every parenting book Feyre had purchased, to the perfect formula-to-water ratio, optimal bath temperatures, and baby sensory activities, he had learned it all. When Feyre faced challenges with breastfeeding, Azriel had accidentally revealed his clandestine studies by suggesting a particular latching technique. Cassian had teased him relentlessly since. Despite employing every baby battle strategy known to him, Nyx was relentless.

With a resigned sigh, Azriel sank even further into the plush cushions, resigning himself to a long night. As he watched Nyx’s tiny chest rise and fall with each breath, he couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer stubbornness of the new babe. Azriel couldn’t tell if that was more from Feyre or Rhys, and then decided that that trait most likely came from his Auntie Nesta, whom Nyx had wrapped around his tiny, chubby fingers.

In the dimly lit room, Azriel’s gaze followed his shadows as they danced across the ceiling, capturing Nyx’s rapt attention. With a grin, he watched them twirl and twirl – they were always more playful when Nyx was around. His shadows seemed as curious about Nyx as he was about them. During gatherings at the River House, it wasn’t uncommon for the shadows to envelop Nyx, tickling him and teasing him, eliciting peals of laughter from the delighted babe as he reached out to catch them. 

Elain had said before that the shadows and Nyx reminded her when she and her sisters were young, a black barn cat would seek her out to frolic among the late summer heat. Azriel wondered what Nyx made of these ethereal companions, if they were like an animal to him, or another playmate. He also pondered whether the shadows would maintain their fascination with him as he grew older. Azriel, himself, hadn’t spent much time around children this young, and his shadows seemed to be so gentle with the babe, as though they somehow could sense his innocence and hoped he would keep it forever.

As Azriel and Nyx both kept their gaze to the ceiling, the shadows began to craft intricate shapes and forms, transforming into a mesmerizing puppet show. Nyx’s restless squirming subsided as the shadows danced across the walls, casting enchanting silhouettes that swirled and twirled in their silent ballet creating a tableau of delight.

On the ceiling, an array of animals appeared in what resembled a grand ballroom scene. Pegasus, birds, and sheep mingled before parting to reveal a single swan, its wings unfurling with ethereal grace. The swan bowed elegantly before twirling loftily above its admiring audience. Then, emerging from the gathered shadows, a sly fox approached, gracefully taking the swan’s wings in its paws and spinning it in a delicate dance. Although the room was silent, one could easily imagine the soft strains of music. Nyx reached up excitedly, prompting Azriel to adjust his hold, lifting him slightly higher for a better view.

As the dance continued above, some shadows descended the walls and playfully twirled around Nyx, their cool touch eliciting giggles from the dark-haired babe.

The shadows conjured forth visions of Nyxs’ family, distant echoes of life beyond the cozy sitting room. 

In one corner of the room, the shadows morphed into delicate snowflakes cascading down the wall. Above the floorboard, three figures raced across the scene – two winged Illyrians and one without wings. The winged males playfully lobbed snowballs at their wingless companion, who shielded his head with his hands. Suddenly, a log sprung from the ground, causing the wingless man to trip and tumble face-first into a pile of snow below. The two other males doubled over with laughter, one even dropping to his knees as the snow continued to fall. Nyx’s eyes widened with wonder, his tiny fingers reaching out to grasp the fleeting shapes. The snowball fight between his father and brothers drew excited coos and giggles from him, his laughed echoing around the room.

In the other corner, the shadows drifted into a scene of a woman standing at an easel, the woman's stomach swollen with child. The shadow woman stood before an easel, her brush moving across the canvas, she ran her hand over her stomach, glancing down towards it when a man walked in behind her, twirling her around into an embrace. The man leaned over, placing a tender kiss on the woman's stomach. Nyx babbled joyfully, his tiny feet kicking Azriel’s chest with delight, which while uncomfortable brought a smile to his face.

Across the ceiling, the shadows painted a scene of a great battle, a field of war and chaos as two winged males fight back to back against a vast army, shooting arrows and swinging swords. 

While the shadows swirled the tapestry of memories, Azriel looked only at Nyx, who giggled and babbled in delight at the unfolding scenes. With each passing moment, it became increasingly apparent to Azriel that while the shadows were doing their best to soothe Nyx to sleep, they had only awakened him more. It became glaringly obvious that bedtime stories wouldn’t work. 

Nyx’s giggles and coos echoed through the River House. With a sigh, Azriel gestured for the shadows to cease their dance, and the room was once again plunged into a soft, dim glow. 

“Alright, Nyx,” Azriel murmured, his voice gentle but tinged with exhaustion. “Let’s try something else.”

He drew Nyx back into his arms, cradling him close against his chest. Rising from the enveloping comfort of the couch, Azriel’s footsteps were muted against the plush rug of the sitting room as he began to meander through the house. Moonlight streamed through the towering windows, casting the ornate corridors in a serene silvery light, illuminating the walls adorned with Feyre’s vibrant paintings. 

Feyre and Rhys had both endured their share of sleepless nights, pacing the same halls with Nyx in their arms. Rhys had noted that being the babe of the Night Court it seemed all Nyx wanted to do was explore the world when the sun had set and all had gone quiet. Perhaps Nyx was more bat than babe.

Undeterred, Azriel pressed on, his footsteps echoing through the halls as he swayed in arms in a steady rhythm. But Nyx remained stubbornly awake, his eyes darting from window to window cooing loudly. As he reached the grand staircase that spiraled upwards, a faint cry echoed through the silence. Nyx stirred in his arms, his tiny fists clutching at his shirt as he let out a wail. 

Azriel attempted to shush the fussy baby who now was wailing louder for what seemed no apparent reason. Perhaps Nyx was finally fighting exhaustion as well. With a sigh, Azriel retraced his steps, as he stepped into Nyx’s nursery. 

Feyre had taken months to finally get the nursery the way she envisioned it. She had wanted Nyx’s room to encompass the entirety of Prythian as they were unsure what powers Nyx might hold. 

Each wall of the room was a canvas of vibrant colors and intricate designs including the bay window that Feyre had insisted be where Nyxs’ bassinet be. 

Painting the Spring Court wall had been a battle unto itself with Rhys and Cassian joking constantly that the wall should be burning to the ground, or that she should paint Tamlin being pursued by a dragon. Feyre had just shot them an obscene gesture and instead painted spring blossoms of pastel pinks and greens. Delicate flowers bloomed amidst emerald meadows, their petals unfurling in the warmth of the sun. Amongst the meadow was a warm pool with a waterfall cascading down a mountainside. 

Opposite, the wall of Summer blazed with the fiery hues of the sun, a tapestry of gold and crimson beamed down onto the deep blue sea, where Tarquin’s white castle glistened atop the white sandstone mountain. 

Next to it, the wall of Autumn was a symphony of earthy greens, oranges, reds, and browns. The Autumn Court forest held deep shadows which made the wheat fields protruding from them seem like shining gold. Lucien had helped Feyre paint this wall, and his awkward-looking, disproportionate deer and fawns clearly showed that. 

Beside the Autumn wall, the Winter Court lay shrouded in a blanket of icy blues and silvery whites. Snowflakes danced amidst frost kissed pines, their branches bending beneath the weight of the winter embrace. Bears and arctic foxes scampered on the piles of snow, wearing the traditional colors. Elain had insisted on giving the little foxes scarves. Azriel had reminded her they were made for that sort of weather but Elain had only glanced at him sadly before saying “But what if they get cold” before she painted tiny mittens on the bears. 

On the half of the ceiling closest to the door, Feyre had painted the Dawn and Day courts. Sunlight streamed through branches of ancient oaks as it rose from the corner of the room, and hills of rolling green with children from each court playing amongst them filled out the space. 

Over Nyxs’ crib, Feyre had painted a deep blue color of the sky with a sparkle of stars strewn across it. Rhys had enchanted the space just below the ceiling to be constantly in motion with sparkling star dust which moved in and out of constellations, with the occasional shooting star flying high above. 

As Nyx continued his tirade of shrill cries, Azriel rocked him around the room, shushing him as much as he could. As he continued to sway gently with Nyx in his arms, the baby began to quiet, his tiny body nestled into Azriels chest as his breaths steadied. With a tender smile, he began to sing, his voice a gentle melody through the darkness, like a whispered prayer. 

“I saw my baby, crying hard as babe could cry,” he sang, “What could I do?” 

With each note, Nyx grew more and more relaxed, his eyelids fluttering closed from the gentle cadence and rocking. 

“My baby’s love had gone and left my baby blue” he sang, his voice soft and tender, “Nobody knew.” 

Azriel watched Nyx’s tiny fingers curl against his chest, his breathing slow and steady and sleep drifted closer. 

“What kind of magic spell to use, slime and snails, puppy dog tails, thunder or lightning,” Azriel continued to sing as he wandered carefully over to the crib. 

“Dance magic, dance magic dance, dance magic dance,” He lowered Nyx into the soft blue oasis. “Jump magic, jump, jump magic, put that baby’s spell on me, kiss my baby, make her free,” Azriel placed his palm onto Nyx’s chest and continued to rub back and forth soothingly. 

“I saw my baby,” He continued, softer, more of a whisper, “Trying hard as babe could try, what could I do?” Azriel dropped to his knees, his fingers tracing the lines of the baby's face as he rested his arm on the side of the bassinet and laid his head atop it. “My baby’s fun had gone, and left my baby blue, nobody knew.” Nyx’s soft pink lips fell open slightly as his eyes finally closed and his head fell to the side. Azriel smiled and found his eyes drifting shut as well. 

Feyre found them the next morning that way. Nyx sprawled on his back, his tiny fingers wrapped around Azriels, and Azriel, a piled heap on the floor, his wings splayed on the floor behind him with his head still resting against the crib. 

Rhys walked up behind her as Feyre motioned him silently. “I guess he does sleep,” she whispered.

“Who?” Rhys chuckled, “Az or Nyx?”

Feyre turned her head to look at Rhys, “Both I guess.” 

Rhys asked Feyre if she planned to go in and wake either of them up but Feyre only shook her head, “I think they both could use a little more time.” 

With that, Feyre shut the door quietly, leaving the warrior and the babe to sleep a little longer.

[stargirlfeyre]

And also to the people who genuinely believe that Feyre’s authority and power only comes from the title Rhys gave her, even before she became High Lady Feyre was showing signs of being a High Lord’s heir.

It’s in this conversation that the topic of High Ladies are brought up because Feyre, at the beginning of Acomaf, is showing the beginning stages of a High Lord coming into power.

Mind you this is hundreds of pages before Rhys even crowned her. Though we can agree that the High Lady title is only decorative because even without it, Feyre would have been on par with the other High Lords. Rhys simply put a name to her abilities but she’s always had them.

Though I am curious which court she would have inherited if she didn’t choose Night…

[acourtofinkandpapyrus]

Confessions (Eris X Reader) *

Warnings: Angst, and my first fic with smut. So yeah, a little plot but mostly SMUT. Oral, female receiving, actual sex, and maybe a sweet talking kink.

Eris and the emissary both have hidden feelings, but Eris has never been good at expressing emotions, especially jealousy...

I walk down the hall, trying not to listen to the intensely infuriating male tailing me, bragging loudly about how back in the throne room how he had managed to convince his father to join forces with the Summer Court.  My court.

“I’m just saying-”  He drawled, staring at me as he kept pace with my increasingly fast footsteps.  “Wasn’t it supposed to be your job to convince them?  Maybe if I sucked up to Tarquin as much as you do, I could be emissary too-”

I turned towards him, diplomacy be damned- and pinned him against the wall, letting him see the raging power in my eyes.  “I don’t know what your problem is today lordling, but I will not tolerate your ridicule.”

He grinned, fire swirling in his eyes as he looked at my arms, caging him against the wall.  “How bold of you emissary, and here I thought you were here to please me.”

I snarled, dropping my arms and storming off.

Not looking back to see if he followed me, I went into my room, slamming the door behind me.

I hissed as I ran my hands through my ornately styled hair, ruining hours of hard work.

For the most part, I had grown to like the male.  There was more to him than people thought.  I had seen with my own eyes that when he had an option between good and bad, he chose to do good.

Sometimes we would flirt a bit too, but never had he spoken to me like that.  Not like the way he did with everyone else.

I stormed over to my bed, grabbing one of the fluffy pillows and shoving it to my face, screaming into it.

I hated it.  I hated this.  Because for the last week, I had been working up the courage to tell him…

Fuck, I still couldn’t even imagine saying it to him, especially right now.

You know how the worst thing they could say is no?  Well, Eris is a walking demonstration that isn’t the case.

I had seen him completely destroy people if he found them, or what they did distasteful.

Maybe I thought he was a good male, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be cruel if the mood struck him.

I looked in the long mirror that towered over me.  I looked like an absolute mess.

I tore out the circlet I was wearing, along with all the other pretty jewels.

Staring into the mirror, I stared into my own eyes, speaking softly to myself.

“I love you.  That’s all you have to say.  Three stupid little words.”

Leaning my head against the mirror, I felt pathetic.

I was way too sober for this.

A few drinks later in the privacy of my room, not only was I still not ready, I felt even more pathetic.

Being a little tipsy, I decided to take a walk, hoping to calm my nerves and clear my head.

It wasn’t long before I was walking through the hallways, barely cleaned up enough to be presentable, but no one was out at this hour anyway.

I saw the hall that led to the library, and I paused.

The smell of books and the stories they held always cheered me up.  I was sure a good book and a comfy chair could help my hurting heart.

I entered the library only to see the red headed male that smelled of cider, crisp autumn air, and fire that consumed my nights and days.

He looked up, noticing me right as I was turning to leave.

“Y/N, please…”

I paused, my breath caught in my throat as I waited for him to continue.

“I’m sorry.”  His voice cracked as he spoke, and I turned around to see his red hair hanging in his eyes as he looked up at me, lips slightly parted and his eyes wide with a mixture of guilt and loneliness.

“Why did you even say all of that in the first place?”  I asked, letting the door close as I walked further in, standing next to him.

He looked up at me and swallowed thickly.  “I was jealous.”

My breath caught as I stared into the depths of his beautiful red eyes.  “Of who?  Tarquin?”

His hands fisted and he looked away.  “Of Tarquin, of all the males who look at you, of all the males you flirt with.  I’m jealous of all of it.”

He laughed, the sound devoid of joy.  “I’m pathetic, aren’t I?  Not only do I not tell you how I feel, but I make you suffer for it.”

I don’t even think he realizes what he's confessing.

Moving so I was right in front of him, I took his face in my hands, forcing him to look me in the eyes.  “You are not pathetic, you are not bad,”  I pushed some of the hair out from in front of his eyes, “You have had a hard life, a life where your family taught you to be cruel.  I see the scars you hide that your father inflicts.  I know that inside you have the potential to be great.”

His eyes are tearing up, looking up at me as if I was some sort of deity, blessing him.

“I know this, because I love you Eris.  I’ve loved you for so very long, and I know that you have a good heart.”

It takes him a moment to realize what I had said, the meaning.

Before he can respond, I lower my lips to his, kissing him softly before pulling back.

He blinked, his whole demeanor changing in milliseconds as he shot up, his hands interlacing in my hair as he pressed his lips to mine, his tongue exploring as I let out a slight whimper.

Drawing back, his breath came out in pants, and I could tell he was barely holding himself back.

Lust clouded my mind, and I barely heard what he said.  “What?”  I murmured, wishing his lips were back on mine again.

“Did you mean it?  Do you love me?”  He asks, and I’m suddenly stone cold sober at the vulnerability in his eyes.

I once again bring my hands up to cup his face, stroking his jawline gently.  “I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you.  I was just so sure you’d see my flaws and turn me away.  I was a coward.”  I say the last part, looking away so I don’t have to see the look on his face as he realizes what a huge mistake he’s made.

He gently guides my face so I’m once again looking him in the eyes, and he looks down at me with such love and wonder that I almost crumple right then and there.

“I would never turn away from you my darling.  Never you.”  He leaned down, placing his mouth on my neck, speaking in between kisses, “You are an angel.”  I struggled not to let out a moan as the scent of his arousal hit me, his hands massaging my hips gently.  “Ever since I first saw you, that first snarky remark, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

He drew back, looking down at me lovingly.  “You are too good for me, but now that I know that you like me back, I will fight like hell to make sure I can keep seeing that sassy little smirk you love to send my way.”

“I love you.”  I said, throwing my arms around his shoulders.  “And I never want to be apart from you again.”

He growled, and I squeezed my thighs together, trying to keep my wits about me as I started to drown in this male.

Hoisting me up, he turned us, placing me on the large comfy chair he had just been lounging in.

“Do you want this?”  He asked, his thumbs gently grazing my hardened nipples as his voice dropped an octave, staring at my already abused lips.

I nodded, and he stopped breathing for a moment, pinching one of my nipples while whispering into my ear,  “Use your words.”

“Please Eris-”  I begged, whimpering as I tried to pull him closer.

He grinned, his eyes predatory as he dropped to his knees.  “Don’t worry angel, I’m going to take good care of you.”

Slowly, he felt every inch of my thighs, going to reach for my panties and hissing when he found me already bare.

“Oh naughty girl.  Were you hoping this would happen?”  He asked, chuckling as he pushed my dress up, placing my legs over his shoulders.

I opened my mouth to respond, but I only moaned as he dove in, his tongue flicking my clit and licking alternately.

I lost all sense of time as I was oh so slowly brought closer to the edge, that coil in my stomach tightening as I realized I wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer.

“Eris, I’m so close-” I said through whimpers, moaning as he once again flicked my clit.

I could feel him grin into my most private parts as he pushed two fingers into my slickness, curling his fingers and making my hips buck involuntarily.  “Eris, please!” I whined, rolling my hips in an attempt get him to start moving again, and he laughed darkly.

“I’ve been waiting to taste you forever angel.  When you come on my tongue, I want to be the only thing you’re thinking about.”  He said, his voice so seductive I almost came right there.

“You’re the only thing on my mind all the time,”  I said, letting out little noises of pleasure as he pumped his fingers, once, twice.

He grinned.  “That’s my girl.”

He dove back in, tongue and fingers working in tandem, pushing me over the edge of bliss, calling out his name as my body shook from the pleasure he drew from me.

He kept going, drawing out my pleasure as long as possible.

I was a puddle as he drew his fingers out, sucking my juices off of them before leaning down to kiss me again.

I could feel his hardness pressing through his pants, and I pushed into it with the palm of my hand, eliciting a hiss from him.

“My naughty angel.  Do you want my dick inside you?”  He asked breathlessly, nuzzling my neck before dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin, and he groaned in time with my moan.

“I need you Eris.  I need you in me now.”  I pleaded, working at the buttons of his pants.

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, suddenly gentle.  “Let me.”

Undoing the rest of the buttons, his member sprung free and my mouth watered from how big he was.

He picked me up, spinning us around so he was sitting and I was held aloft above him.

I waited for him to push in, but as I looked at his face, I realized he was giving me complete control.

Smiling softly, I lowered myself slowly, both of us moaning as I made it all the way down.

He helped me move up and down slowly as he spoke.  “I’ve never felt like this for someone before.�� You scare the hell out of me because I’m falling, and I knew that if you told me you felt the same way, you would completely own me.”

I gasped as he started to rub my clit, unable to form words eloquently, I said, my voice guttural, “You’re mine.”

Our pace sped up and he growled, playing with my clit more roughly as his other hand went to my breast, massaging it as he took the nipple of my other breast into his mouth, making me moan in an obscene way.

He let go with his mouth, my brain frying as I once again reached the edge of bliss.

“And you’re mine.” he growled, thrusting hard and hitting that spot, and I let out a scream of ecstasy as he reached it with me, and he pushed his lips to mine, silencing me as we rode out the rest of our orgasms.

When we were done, he gently pulled me off, and I moaned.

“I love you, Angel.”  He said, nuzzling my neck and pulling me into a hug.

I sighed in joy, my heart fluttering out of my chest.  “And I love you Lordling.”

[i-only-see-daylight]

Eris: Come on, what would you do if you were me?

Azriel: Oh If I were you, I would’ve killed myself years ago.

[highqueenofashandstars]

To all of those who are getting caught up in the Maasverse before January, god speed. Stay spoiler free. Simp over all the fae they’s, she’s, and he’s. 🫡

[sapchat]

Eris lineage

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[acourtofquestions]

Welcome page/post thx 2 A Court of Questions by @lavendarneverlands

This is my (secondary/“side”) blog for my #FirstRead (& adoration of) the Maasverse! — But take this as a heads up: I mix up the two pages frequently😅😂 sorry in advance for any confusion! — Think of this page like Potterless (except probably not half as cohesive & good as the podcast lol😂). I love enjoying the series with the fandom so please feel free to reach out to #ReadAlong or #ReadWithMe (it’s why I’m on Tumblr; no one I know reads these). 🫶 also check out the tumblr community “@maasverse-first-readers” for more :-)

Header image: Blue illusion Art & Profile pic: Beth Gilbert Art

LET’S FANDOM ABOUT IT

This is a Maasverse related blog, thus it does discuss the series & spoilers (depending on where you are in the books) HOWEVER I try to keep up to date with spoiler warnings (often in the form of: #tags, red, 🚨, or what I call the “more” bar of safety) & I hope it makes it accessible for all readers! I also really try to keep this blog inclusive & friendly for everyone (any character, any ship, any reader, any person… or fae I suppose too :-) & use proper content warnings (as I greatly appreciate that in others too) … so thank you!!

As I am unfortunately human here’s a lil up-to-date guide for what is & is not discussed thus far (& as I also try to avoid spoilers for the books I haven’t gotten to yet)

— I have read ALL of ACOTAR,

— I have read ALL of Throne of Glass,

— I am currently reading my way through “CC” Crescent City; & now on Crescent City 3

Be warned: I’m a rambler of posts & content posting, and autocorrect is my true enemy😂🤣 p.s. I’m new here & always trying to learn!😊 I do my best to do my due-diligence and properly credit. And use TW whenever I can (as I need it in my life too <3

I leave most “reaction” posts up from my first reads. Opinions of course change over time! I try to edit & update (& or re-tag) but some stay old.

Currently my favorites and majority are:

ACOTAR

I love the Archeron sisters (Feyre is dear to me, I think Nesta is an important kind of character, and I look forward to more Elain in what I’m calling ACOTAR 5&1/2)

THE Valkyrie (Gwyn esp.)

I can go any which way with the Elriel/Elucien/Gwynriel/Gwynlain/etc. “debate” (like I said though I’m here for all fans and prefer to keep it generally positive/friendly; we’re all just enjoying stories & art😊).

I love Feysand (sry Tam-Tam😅 I struggle with him)

If you want to go give some ship love @gwynlain you can also find me there :-) 💕 because yes I am that fandom obsessed I have a side page for the side blog😂

TOG

I adore Celaena & Aelin (for posts on both I tend to call her “Aelin Sardothien” cause I love ❤️‍🔥 fireheart ;-)

Rowaelin is my fav ship (though you will find it was not an immediate love for “bird-boy”😂 from page 1😅) the “Team Chaol” force was once strong long ago (I don’t hate him now, I just like them as friends) though I’ve also shipped all the ships at some point🤣 (I like a lot of fandoms and have a very “SQUIRREL!” personality😅😂 so I do make a lot of references, despite this being my Maasverse page) there was a time for Dorlaena & of course Samlaena too

and Sam Cortland always deserves more (I love him & am still sad😅). My beloved "Assassins of Adarlan"

As will Dorian ALWAYS be beloved as a character,

I think in another life I’d like to be Yrene

Lysandra is a favorite.

Manon and the 13 are everything to me… till darkness claim us & beyond…

I still want a spin off with the cadre

I could make this list really really long because these books are one of my all time favorites

— Abraxos & Fleetfoot (TOG) & “The House” (ACOSF) as characters hold a candle to no other. —

“CC” Crescent City

I finished House of Earth and Blood “CC1”

I finished House of Sky and Breath “CC2”

I am currently reading House of Flame and Shadow “CC3”

I love Baxian! And LIDIA CERVOS IS AN ALL TIME FAV FOREVER!!! (Day x Night might be my fav ship in the series rn)

I love my kick-ass gals; Bryce rocks, & of course the pack of devils & Danika (her & Bryce’s friendship meant a lot to me), Fury x Juniper (their my bb’s).

SERIOUSLY I LOVE DANIKA

Syrinx is a fav, I love all the animals!

I wish I liked Hunt more, I don’t hate him, I’m just kinda meh?.. and slowly evolving into dissapointment

THE CROSSOVERS

Thank YOU “fellow dreamers” for welcoming ME! into your feed & Maasverse!

& to my fellow “first time readers” Welcome to you too! 💕

+ All you old-timers THANK YOU for your loving guide notes & support (for ALL THE FANDOM FEELS😂)!

… And yeah… Hi! Much love❤️💚🩷🩵🧡 all are welcome!!! This blog does NOT discriminate & is a safe place to enjoy fandoms (because it’s about enjoying stories!) regardless of race, nationality, ability/disability, gender, sexuality, belief, age, etc. Feel free to message & tag😊 + if it helps in the matter of communicating:

I identify as she/her (please always feel free to tell me your pronouns if you like :-) 🏳️‍🌈Bi🩷💜💙 LGBTQIA+ if you wanna call me by something other than my blog name/names you can call me Lila (short for Delilah), I’m a Zillenial (21+) I primarily speak English (though I’m usually fluent in Sign, & Czech, working on refreshers & learning Spanish), Chronic Illness advocate. & I look forward to enjoying stories with you!

And there’s nothing left to say but…

— LET’S FANDOM ABOUT IT —

[scarlet742]

I genuinely think that I would’ve never been able to complete acotar at all if I might have read tog first- the whole level of her writing, the freshness, the plots and every other element of her book is so enhanced in tog- WOW !

I am unsure of cc as I have not read it yet but what I know is I am about to welcome the biggest of the book slumps I might have ever experienced ever after I complete tog-

[ennawrite]

Super late (I misread the dates and thought the first day was TOMORROW) but here’s a bit of a heavier piece for Day One of @tamlinweek 2024:

Title: Spring’s Stars

a Tamlin x Rhysand’s sister story

Synopsis: After Tamlin’s father gains intel on the Ladies of the Night Court, Tamlin has to pick himself up to rescue the female he loves and her mother.

Word Count: 4,709

You can also read here

For this prompt, I wanted to write about the days leading up to Tamlin becoming High Lord. I know there’s a lot of tension in the books about what happened, and so I wanted to write from Tamlin’s POV. I also played around with some of the fan theories that have been floating around. This story is a bit devastating (or at least I hope so 😉) so be warned. ***It also plays on Tamlin’s father being a shitty man. We’ve heard he was worse than BERON, and there’s bit of child abuse/torture happening***

Scroll to read!

Tamlin awoke on the cold marbled floor of the Spring manor’s basement; the coppery tang of fresh blood filled his nose. His back was burning, the flesh in sloppy ribbons. Prior to the lashes, his father had forced a faebane tonic down his throat so he would not heal quickly. It often went that way, if Tamlin was not cooperating.

He tried to rise but could only make it to his knees before the room began spinning. Nausea filled his stomach. Tamlin closed his eyes, trying to find anything in himself to grasp onto to pull his thoughts away from the pain. He thought of music, of playing the fiddle with some of the males he met in the war camps years ago. The small spark in his chest quickly extinguished when he realized it would be weeks until he could play again, until he could do anything, really. Any movement would reopen the wounds splattering his back, that is if his father even offered him the grace of healing. He liked to linger the possibilities over Tamlin’s head, stringing him along on his sick game of life or death.

Tamlin opened his eyes and stared down at his hands in his lap, dark red ran down his arms and dripped off his fingetips onto his black trousers. He had half a mind to lay back down until he inevitably bled out, but then he remembered why his father had dealt out the beating. Why this time had been so bad, why Tamlin was not cooperating.

For some reason unknown to Tamlin, his father wanted to know the daughter of Night’s location. How his father knew his son knew her whereabouts, Tamlin wasn’t sure. Maybe it was his friendship with Rhysand, or maybe his father could sense something amiss. For fuck’s sake, he’d just seen Laila the night before. He probably still smelt like her, a mistake that he’d surely pay for if he didn’t get the fuck up now.

Tamlin gritted his teeth as he lifted off his knees, his hands shaking as he searched for any form of leverage on the blood splattered wall. His slid in the red mess causing him to jolt forward. Tamlim cried out as the gashes in his back ripped deeper from the sudden movement.

However, the pain would not deter him. His father knew where Laila and her mother were. He dealt Tamlin lash after lash, and yet Tamlin did not break. Not until his father brought a ‘friend’ in. A mind reader, apparently. He had an official name, but Tamlim could not remember it now. If anything, he was more of a mind torturer. He easily got the information out of Tamlim after worming his way through his brain, but he left visions of Tamlin’s mother being whipped on his departure. The female so badly bloodied, Tamlin actually threw up at the picture.

Tamlin realized the male was waiting outside the room the entire time, his father did not need to stoop to whipping him for the information. But Tamlin knew the lashes and the manipulated visions served a purpose of a different kind. It was loud and clear, ever since Tamlin had shown those early signs of powerful magic as a child and his mother’s worried face pleading for him to stop. Her begs him to hide his new magic. But like a fool, Tamlin eagerly showed his father.

Tamlin searched for any sign of that golden power now, but to no avail. His well was empty with the faebane in his system. So, he had to do this the hard way. Tamlin spit out a mouthful of blood onto the floor, the noise echoing throughout the dingy room. There was no furniture in here, just a wooden post to tie a victim to. Usually, Tamlin was the victim. A room solely dedicated for his father’s dark hobbies.

Tamlin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing red across his cheek. He took in one deep, agonizing breath and pushed off of his own raised knee for leverage. The muscles in his neck strained, the veins nearly bursting and his teeth almost shattering from the force of him clenching them together.

Finally, Tamlin was standing. He leaned his head against the wall, trying to ward off the swaying of the spinning room, but nevertheless, he was standing. Tamlin tried to control his breathing, the air in his lungs escaped in fast, shallow pants. His back burned like it had been lit on fire, but Tamlin could not focus on that. Somehow, he had to get to Laila before they did. His father and his brothers would not be kind to her nor her mother. Whipping was just a sliver of the grotesque arsenal they proudly carried on their belt. Even worse, they really enjoyed the chase of the hunt.

Tamlin turned away from the wall, heart pounding, and fire coursing through his veins as he thought about his father and brothers being let loose on Laila.

He would find a way to save her or die trying.

•

Tamlin made his way up the stairs, relying heavily on the rail to get up. Mercifully, the door to the basement had been left unlocked. He assumed his father did not expect him to wake up so soon. In fact, he had made sure that would be the case from the intensity of the lashes, but by the Mother, Tamlin had awoken. He would not let that divine intervention go to waste.

The manor was eerily quiet, the servants must have been sent home as there was no bustling about. His father probably deemed their prying eyes as a nuisance for his big plans for the evening, whatever they may be. Tamlin’s stomach churned at the possibilities, and he quickened his pace.

He made it to his room and nearly keeled over as he leaned over his desk, flesh blood dribbled on the rug, soaking deeply into the white wool. Tamlin blindly rummaged through a drawer until he found it. A small bottle, hidden in the very back. A gift from his mother, one that would surely have them both beaten half to death if ever discovered.

Tamlin uncorked the bottle with shaky hands and brought it to his lips. The milky liquid cooled his raw throat, soothing as it went down. Tamlin nearly fell to his knees as he felt that iron chain on his power shatter.

He sighed in relief as he felt his body beginning to heal. It would still take days for him to be fully recovered, but this was enough to get him to Laila.

Tamlin pulled a dark green tunic over his head, careful not to disrupt the slowly-healing wounds too much. And then he strapped the bandolier of Illyrian knives across his chest, a gift from Rhysand last Winter Solstice.

With the power now pulsing through him, Tamlin ran out of the Spring manor and into the darkness waiting beyond.

•

Tamlin’s power hadn’t replenished enough yet for him to winnow, so he took his chances on horseback. The stable was nearly empty when Tamlin got there, the scent of his father and brothers lingering. His father could have winnowed them all to the Illyrian camp, but that wasn’t their style. They would be enjoying the ride of this night, drawing it out as long as they could. Tamlin’s blood chilled and he quickly saddled up the small white mare that had been left behind.

They raced through the woods, the back of Tamlin’s tunic now soaked. His wounds were in a constant state of healing and opening due to the movement. But that was the least of his worries. He didn’t know how long he was unconscious, how much further ahead his family was. He prayed to the Mother that Rhysand was there. That somehow, someway, something was stopping his father from harming the females.

Tamlin kicked the heels of his boots against the horse’s side, and they ran faster through the thick canopy of trees.

•

It took too long, way too damn long, for him to reach the Illyrian camp Laila and her mother were staying at. Tamlin quickly tied the mare to a tree on the outskirts of the camp, not willing to risk being seen because of animal’s glaringly white coat.

Tamlim quietly made his way down the hill, making sure to stay as hidden as he could behind the bare trees. He did not hear any yelling, which was hopefully a good thing. But he also could not hear much of anything. Like even the nocturnal animals of the forest had been run off by some threat. Tamlin willed his quickened pulse to steady as he made his way to the closest house, a small thing made up of grey mortar and bricks.

Gripping a dagger in his hand, he peered over the side. When he didn’t see any immediate threats, he pushed further. His back had stopped bleeding, though the pain still lingered, and he hoped his scent would not be too strong to any passerby.

Tamlin made his way to the front of the house, heart pounding at what he beheld. It wasn’t the gory murder scene he’d expected. No, instead, the camp looked abandoned. He made his way down the path. Houses were ransacked, like his father heavily searched each one and got angrier as he went on, his job becoming sloppier and sloppier. But there were no bodies. There was no blood, or at least none that Tamlin could sense.

Tamlin ran to the house he was in the night before. He pleaded with the Mother as he ran up the stairs and into Laila’s room. The place was torn apart, her belongings strewn about, but her scent was faint. She had not been here in hours. However, his father’s scent was overwhelmingly strong. He would not be far away, if his smell still lingered so. Tamlin growled over the mixing of the two scents and quickly exited the room.

•

Tamlin was walking back up the slope to his horse, coming up with ideas of where Laila could be when he heard it. The ever so faint sound of wings flapping. Then the light scent of lavender and cedar. In an instant, Tamlin was swept up, completely embraced in the arms he knew too well.

“Are you okay? You’re bleeding,” Laila fretted, cupping his face with both palms. Tamlin leaned into the touch. She found the nook of a large tree branch to settle them into.

“I’m fine. My father—“ Tamlin trailed off, looking deeply into Laila’s strikingly blue eyes. “Did he hurt you? I saw what he did to the camp.”

“No. One of the scouts spotted he and your brothers in the forest. I was able to winnow most of the camp out, the rest flew,” Laila shook her head fast, brows deeply furrowed. “The scout overheard your father boasting about where he would hang my wings.” Her voice broke on the last word, and tears welled in her eyes.

Tamlin grabbed her, pulling her tight to his body. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, her black curls dancing in the wind.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” He mumbled into her hair. “I should have been here. I should have—“

She pulled back from him, shaking her head. “You could not have stopped it if you were here. These evil creatures in power cannot be stopped,” Tears trailed down Laila’s tan face and onto her light purple dress, the droplets darkening parts of the fabric.

“I would have killed them for you. Or at least die trying,” Tamlin cupper her cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb. His own eyes now burned with emotion.

“I know, my love. I know you would have. And I could not bear witnessing that,” Laila kissed his palm and continued. “My father, he’s no better. Not really. He plans to marry me off to an Autumn Court son.”

Tamlin went wholly still, his hand dropping from her face as his breath hitched in his throat.

Laila nodded, a small sob escaping her. “The papers are signed, the wedding is set for next week,” She laughed lightly, the sound bitter. “That is, if your father doesn’t kill me first.”

“No.” Tamlin demanded, shaking his head. “No. I’ll get you out of here. You and your mother. I won’t let you two suffer anymore.”

Laila smiled sadly, “There is nowhere for us to go, Tamlin,” She placed a hand on his heart. It thummed in answer to her touch. “You are a good male. My brother as well. But there are not many others like you. No matter where we go, they will either hunt us for sport or sell us off like cattle. This is not anything new.”

Tamlin’s heart broke at the look on her face, at what she had been going through her whole life. Yes, Tamlin had to deal with his father, but he was able to walk freely without outside threats looming over his head. He wished he could scoop her up and bring her to a new world, where females did not have to fear living. Wish he had the power to create that new world for her.

Tamlin embraced her tightly, holding onto her as if this would be his last time doing so. “I love you, Laila. You are bound to my soul, like roots in the spring soil.”

Laila looked up at him, her blue eyes twinkling in the moonlight. “And I love you, Tamlin. I will love you, even when the last star in the night sky fades into nothing.”

She stood on her tiptoes, interlocking her hands in his blonde hair. Their lips met and the outside world faded into nothing. Their problems no longer existed as they kissed, becoming one against that tree.

•

Later, Laila flew them to a nearby lake so Tamlin could wash away the blood from his body before they went to her mother. His tunic stuck to his back, courtesy of the dried blood, and Tamlin winced. Instantly, Laila was behind him, and she tenderly unpeeled the shirt from his back. Tamlin thanked her with a soft smile and waded into the water, just enough to be half submerged.

Laila followed and began lightly washing him with a makeshift rag (a piece of Tamlin’s tunic she ripped off). Tamlin looked out at the water, at how the hundreds of stars reflected on the surface. It was hard to tell where the sky ended, and the water started. A starlit lake, of sorts.

Tamlin began thinking of the starlight pool in his own court. How odd the little body of water was, and the stories that came with it. Some claimed it to be a portal, a door built by the Mother herself.

Shivers went down Tamlin’s spine as Laila hummed quietly to herself, scrubbing his hair.

In that moment, Tamlin knew what he had to do.

•

“You can’t be serious.” Laila’s wide gaze burned into him.

“We have to try, Laila. You two can’t live like this,” Tamlin said, rubbing her shoulder lightly.

They made it to the small cottage she left her mother at. The older female managed to scrounge up a small dinner for them with the few resources she had, and Tamlin decided now was the best time to lay out his plan.

“You don’t even know if it leads anywhere.”

“I will make sure of it in the morning. If it doesn’t, I will find you somewhere else to go. I will not let Beron keep you in his claws. Or my father.

Laila stared into his eyes for a moment, and then silently nodded her head.

“Rumors say the pool leads to another world. I have heard of it enough that parts of it must be true. There is always truth in rumors,” Laila’s mother spoke from the head of the small table. The Lady of the Night Court looked fragile, her skin unusually pale, with a blanket wrapped around her. Her plate left untouched.

“Will you travel through it?” Tamlin asked, setting his fork down.

“I will do anything to get my daughter out of here.”

“Okay, then. We will set out tomorrow.”

•

At sunrise, Tamlin winnowed to the Spring Court. He knew his father or brothers would get word of his arrival soon, so he had to be quick. Tamlin jumped into the water, and rapidly kicked his feet until he hit the bottom. A sliver of glowing golden light caught his eye, he swam closer to it. He did not have the time to go through it, so he threw a rogue conch shell into the crack. It disappeared. He waited a moment. Still, it did not come back. Where it went, he was not sure. But for the first time in a long time, his chest glowed with hope. With a promise for the future.

•

A few hours later, right at dusk, Tamlin was back at the pool. Laila and her mother in tow. Late last night, he’d set a trap for his father and brothers to keep them occupied with. A couple of vandals he’d picked up from Spring’s dungeons, glamoured to resemble the Ladies of Night.

“Are you ready?” Tamlin asked the females, both trembling slightly, their wings drawn in tight.

They wanted to seek out Rhysand, but time would not permit. He did not know how long the glamor would hold out on the males, or if it even would. It was a power he had not gotten a chance to utilize much, especially not on others. It was either now or never. Laila’s mother was the first to move, she nodded quickly.

“Right. I will go first. To ensure there are no threats on the other side.” She said, holding her head high on her shoulders. She hugged her daughter tightly, kissing her on the cheek. She moved over to Tamlin, squeezing his shoulder and nodding once at him. A small gesture of approval for what he was doing. Then she walked to the pool and dived in headfirst. The water rippled in her wake.

Tamlin looked back at Laila, her blue eyes shining with tears. She stumbled into his arms, her lavender and cedar scent fully engulfing him. “Please don’t make me wait too long.”

He gently rubbed her head, her hair feather soft under his calloused palm. “I would never dream of doing such a thing. Though, I do often think of that one night when I was gone for two weeks. You seemed to miss me a lot. So much so, actually, that we didn’t sleep a wink the entire night.”

Laila lightly slapped his chest and Tamlin laughed, the sound reverberating through the trees. The birds answered, their sweet songs echoing back. Laila stared up at the darkening sky, at the canopy of trees surrounding them, swaying in the warm breeze.

“I would have loved to marry you in this world, Tamlin. To leave the courts behind and live simply as you and me.”

Tamlin pulled Laila tighter to him and their lips met, the feeling so sure and right. Tamlin’s chest burned, his soul aching to be with hers. He would be with her in the next world, or the next life if the Mother did not permit this one. But he would find her soul in every life, he knew that much to be true.

“Laila, it is time,” The Lady of Night said from the pool. Tamlin looked at her, her usually braided back black hair was now loose down her back from the water, the starlight casting it in a shine. Her hazel eyes twinkled, in a way Tamlin had not seen before. “The portal is real. And we must go now.”

Tamlin’s pulse quickened and he let go of Laila. “Go,” he said. “Go and I will be there soon.”

Laila nodded, brushing his face ever so slightly with her long tan fingers. A shiver went down Tamlin’s spine. He watched as she jumped into the water. She looked back once, her blue eyes burning into his green gaze, before both of their heads disappeared fully under the water.

Tamlin quickly turned, headed towards the manor. He had one last thing he needed to take care of.

•

When Tamlin reached the manor, no one was home. His father and brothers were of course accounted for, but he had no idea where his mother could be. And he would not leave without her. Would not let her live like this any longer.

Tamlin searched every room in the manor, and then the grounds. He’d hoped she would be in her rose garden, where she often spent much of her day, but she was nowhere in sight.

Frustrated, Tamlin paced his bedroom. Hours passed, the moon rising fast in the night sky, until finally he heard the front door open. The sound of his brothers' obnoxious voices and then his father’s steps down the hall. Tamlin froze, waiting for his door to swing open. He had his knives, but that would do no good against a High Lord. Thankfully, his father’s footsteps kept going.

He heard his brothers walk by and return to their rooms as well, his mother’s rose scent with them. Tamlin sighed out in relief. She was here, he would have to get her alone somehow, but she was here.

He sat down on the edge of his bed, his body exhausted. He’d been running on adrenaline for the past two days, his back still healing from the lashes.

At sunrise, when his father and brother went on their morning hunt, he would get his mother and take her to the starlight pool. But tonight, he would rest. His chest seemed to ease a bit as he laid down fully. It did not take him long to fall asleep, and soon he was dreaming of a life with Laila. Of their wedding. Of their children running to their grandmothers.

But the sun never did rise for his mother.

•

It was midnight when Tamlin heard his mother scream. He threw his bedroom door open, knives completely forgotten in his haste. His nostrils flared as the coppery tang of blood filled his nose. Tamlin ran faster down the hall until he reached his parent’s room. His father laid bleeding out on the floor; the male’s throat deeply slit. Even his High Lord’s magic was having a difficult time repairing the wound. Tamlin looked up, his mother’s golden curls flashed as the perpetrator lifted her up by her neck, her bare feet dangling in the air.

“No!” Tamlin yelled, racing towards them but it was too late. Barely a breath later, his mother’s head landed at his feet.

Tamlin did not think as he shifted. He felt power course through his veins, more than he ever had before. Perhaps his power fed on anger. On heartbreak and devastation.

In a blind rage, Tamlin leapt on the male. The beast he’d become had long, razor-sharp claws. A real blade was not needed as he ripped through the male’s neck. Blood spurted out and Tamlin dug deeper until he sliced through bone. Tamlin growled loudly as the male’s head detached fully from his body. He stood over the body, teeth snared and dripping blood.

“What did you do?” A voice demanded from behind him. It was familiar enough that it brought Tamlin out of that angry haze.

Tamlin looked to see the son of Night. Rhysand. His friend. Tamlin looked back at the body he stood over and he finally realized whose head he’d just ripped off. Who killed his mother. The High Lord of the Night Court. Laila and Rhysand’s father.

Tamlin shifted into his fae form and stalked towards Rhysand. “What are you doing here?” He commanded from the male.

“Oh, don’t act so innocent, I know you told them. Your brothers squealed like pigs before I ripped their fucking throats out.”

At Tamlin’s bewildered expression, Rhys continued, “They sent my mother and sister’s heads in a gods damn box, Tamlin. You let them do that.”

“You don’t know wha—“

“I saw them. I opened the fucking box,” Rhysand’s face turned a sickly green. “You were my friend. I introduced you to my sister and you what? You fuck her and give her whereabouts to your father? You helped them kill, Laila.”

The sound of sentries running through the manor’s grounds filled Tamlin’s ears. They must have heard the commotion and would be here soon. Tamlin shook his head slowly, “Rhysand, listen, they—“

“No. I don’t care what you have to say. But never cross me again, or your head will be on a spike in your mother’s little rose garden,” Rhysand slowly began to disappear into the shadows whirling around behind him. “I guess congratulations are in order, to the new High Lord of Spring.” And with that, Rhysand disappeared fully into the darkness.

•

Tamlin did not linger for much longer in the hallway. Did not even wipe the blood from his hands before he was out the door and headed to the starlight pool. It was sunrise by the time he made it, the trek longer without a horse and his chest ached as he watched the morning sky open.

He failed to save his mother. The female he’d found comfort in throughout all these years being his father’s toy. The soft, broken female who deserved to live in a world far better than this one. And he was so fucking close to giving it to her.

The morning birds began their song and Tamlin felt the power course through his veins. The wind blew his golden locks across his face, and Tamlin wielded it to stop. It did.

There was now a well of power in him, so deep he knew he could never fully fathom it. He could probably spend the next century diving into it and never hit the bottom.

No longer was he heir to the Spring Court. It was now fully his. He could change it for the better, if he chose to do so. But if he stayed, he would not bring Laila back. Could not. Not with Rhysand and not with Beron looming about. It was too dangerous here, the threats too extreme. As High Lord, he would always be a target for people seeking power. He would not force Laila to be part of that game.

Even more so, if he left, then there was no telling who the power would go to. Tamlin would not let someone else like his father lead the Spring Court. Their people had suffered enough under his rule.

Tamlin thought of Laila, of his dream of their life beyond. A future that had been ripped to shreds in the span of mere hours. But perhaps it was enough to get her out of here. Her and her mother could live freely in this other world, without the limitations they’d face here.

By noon, Tamlin knew what he had to do. He just wasn’t sure if he truly wanted to. But as High Lord, what he wanted didn’t matter anymore. Maybe it was selfish, but he spent hours looking for a sign from the Mother, any sign, to lead him in the right direction. He’d put his full trust in her thus far, so when a lonesome stem of a lavender plant landed in the pool and sunk under, he knew what was expected of him.

Tamlin dived under the silvery water, stars clinging to his skin. When he made it to the crack of the portal, he threw all of his power into it. His powers shone brightly as it hit the slit, casting the water in iridescent light.

He gritted his teeth, his leverage wearing thin under the water. In a blinding flash, Tamlin was thrusted back, the impact weakened by the water. He swam back to the crevice, only to be met with a faint line in the sand. A faded, white scar left behind in this world.

A twin to the one now etched on his very heart.

[darklove9314-blog]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas, Crescent City Series - Sarah J. Maas Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Nyx (A Court of Thorns and Roses)/Original Character(s), Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn, Hunt Athalar/Bryce Quinlan Characters: Nyx (A Court of Thorns and Roses), Original Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn Child(ren) Summary:

When Evalin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius's world is in danger she makes an impossible choice to leave it behind in order to search for a way to save it. With the help of Nyx Archeron, they will set off on a journey to save her court before it is too late.

[pagesandblots]

I love all 3 but if I had to choose, it would be Aelin. The cunning queen just made me cray with all her surprises.