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imaginesandbandfiction · 7 months ago

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Second Chances

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: This is part 2 of Second Choices! Part 3 will be a shamelessly smutty epilogue so click here to be added to the taglist to be notified when that's live!

Warnings: Drinking, little bit of angst/alludes to a history of abuse

Rhysand returned from Windhaven just in time for dinner, rested and refreshed after a long weekend holed up in his mother’s cottage with the male he’d been casually seeing for the past few months. In addition to being pretty, Austris had a wicked tongue that kept Rhys thoroughly distracted.

It was three days of pure bliss; of forgetting about his duties and giving into every whim and desire that struck him without thought. While he dreaded returning to work and his responsibilities, the thought of spending the evening catching up with his family put a little bounce in his step as he landed outside the House of Wind.

The outdoor dining table was set, silver trays piled high with juicy, slow-cooked meats, a rainbow of roasted vegetables, and potatoes whose garlic-and-rosemary glaze wafted in the early evening breeze. Fae lights floated above, illuminating the feast in a soft glow. Behind it all, he saw his family sprawled out on the lounge chairs. Judging by the scattered bottles littering the ground around them, he had lots of catching up to do.

He took one step and then Mor jumped up, waving her wine glass towards him.

“Rhys is back!” She exclaimed, nearly tripping over her own feet as she rushed towards him. “Time to eat!” Her voice was suspiciously loud, though he supposed that happened when one drank too much on an empty stomach.

He chuckled and accepted the one-armed hug she offered.

“Good to see you too, cousin,” he said, guiding her towards the table. “You must be really hungry.”

Amren stalked past, face pinched in a scowl.

“You have no idea,” she grumbled as she plopped down in a chair. She reached for an unopened bottle of red wine and uncorked it with her teeth, filling her goblet to the brim.

Rhys’ eyebrows skyrocketed towards his hairline, turning to throw a questioning look at Az and Cas as they made their way to the table. The Shadowsinger’s face was impenetrable, as usual, but in three centuries of friendship Rhys had never seen Cassian look so pitiful. His wings drooped dangerously close to brushing against the ground, and his hair was a loose, tangled mess that hung over his face. Beneath it, shadows lined bloodshot eyes that were cast downward, lacking their usual spark of mischief.

Azriel shook his head as he passed; the movement was barely more than a twitch but Rhys got the meaning loud and clear. He took his seat and poured himself a hefty glass of wine; he had a feeling he was going to need it.

Everyone settled at the table, refilling drinks and piling food onto their plates, yet there was a gaping hole between Mor and Cas where you should have been.

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked, not thinking much of your absence although he was disappointed that he wouldn’t get to catch up with you before it was back to business as usual the next morning.

Suddenly, everyone stilled with their forks and goblets held aloft. It was too quiet. Panic jolted his heart into a sprint as he took in the frozen faces of his Inner Circle looking like children caught sneaking sweets before supper.

Finally, Amren spoke, glaring at Cas as she spat, “Ask Cassian.”

The Lord of Bloodshed glared at her and pushed away from the table, chair clattering to the ground behind him.

“I’m eating in my room,” he snarled, stabbing the fattest, rarest steak with his fork and plopping it on top of the vegetables piled on his plate.

“Cauldron boil me, I leave you alone for three days,” Rhys muttered, downing his wine in one long gulp.

—

Earlier that day, Amren had stopped by your room and offered to skip dinner with you, but you were looking forward to a quiet evening in the library. Alone. After storming out on Cassian, your two best (female) friends had spent the night in your room with you, drinking straight from the bottle of Illyrian moonshine you’d pilfered from Rhys’ secret stash until you passed out in a tangled mess of limbs and hair somewhere between midnight and dawn.

They’d only agreed to leave when you threatened to show Rhys the memory of them breaking into his room using only a hairpin the night before. And even then, every two hours or so you’d get a knock and a quiet “Just checking in!” from one or the other. You suspected they drew up a schedule, and though you were grateful to have such caring friends, what you really needed was peace and quiet.

It was hard to wrap your head around just how much things had changed within a span of twenty-four hours. But curled up amongst the stacks of old books in a plush armchair tucked away in a little alcove, you finally managed to admit to yourself that you could have handled things better. After all, you were the one that made this mess for yourself—you should have known better than to shit-talk Cassian’s girlfriend—and instead of apologizing, you’d fucked things up even further.

With a sigh, you cracked open the stiff leather cover of your journal and flipped to a blank page, letting your pencil hover above it. Not one to pay too much attention to emotions and feelings, the little book hadn’t gotten much use in the nearly two centuries since Rhysand had gifted it to you.

But when your brain was twisted into too many knots that not even a night of drinking with your friends could untangle, the only thing that seemed to help was spilling your guts onto paper. Seeing your thoughts laid out in graphite helped you make sense of them, so you pressed down the tip of your pencil and forced your hand to move.

Cassian is my mate. He’s my mate and I fucked everything up and he probably wants nothing to do with me.

I’ve been trying to ignore it, to push down these stupid feelings. I thought it was just the bond trying to force me into something more with someone who was supposed to be my best friend. Just a friend.

But if I’m being completely honest, I think I’ve always been a little bit in love with him. After all, you don’t sleep with someone on and off for half a century if there isn’t at least some baseline of attraction.

I don’t know, I guess I just always assumed that since my father didn’t want me and my mother only wanted me for the child support check, well, no one would ever want me. Not forever; not as a wife and definitely not as a mate.

I’m too damaged for anyone.

Too damaged for Cassian.

Having him as a friend forever was more important than trying for more. It was too big of a risk, and I couldn’t lose him. Couldn’t lose my family, not when I finally got one that stuck around.

I could sleep with him, though. It was transactional; a mutual itch-scratching made purposefully hazy by Mirthroot and alcohol. In those stolen moments, I could pretend I was someone else. Someone worth keeping.

Mor thinks I’m insane for keeping the bond to myself for so long, but we were fucking regularly enough to take the edge off and, well. I learned to grit my teeth and take it on the chin before I got my first cycle.

I’m good at pushing things down, at pretending to be okay. Even if he does want me, I don’t know if I can handle it. That deep, emotional intimacy without anywhere to hide.

Your hand flew across the page as words poured out of the deepest, darkest parts of you. The things you kept hidden from everyone, including yourself. Tears swelled in the corners of your eyes which stung from the effort it took to keep them from falling.

And then you felt a gentle knock against your mental shields. Rhys must be back. You peel them back just enough to let his voice in.

Y/N? Can I come down and say hi to my favorite sister?

I’m your only sister, motherfucker. I better be your favorite.

He waited, a soft breath of a presence within your mind, swirling winds of calm smoothing out the edges of the turbulent waves crashing around in there.

Even though, normally, you’d rather die than let anyone see you like this, you agreed.

Fine. But only because I missed you, you stupid bat.

Love you too, sis.

You closed the journal and tucked it beneath one thigh, adjusting the blanket you’d brought down with you so it’s fully covering the little book. It didn’t take long before you heard his light footsteps descending the stairs. Using the back of your hand, you wiped away the lingering moisture in your eyes and then straightened in your seat.

“Skipping my welcome home dinner?” He asked as he approached your little reading nook, a lazy grin and raised eyebrows painted on his face.

You scoffed, careful to keep your journal hidden as you stood up to throw yourself into his open, waiting arms. His wings closed around the two of you and you’re grateful for the extra pressure against your back.

“I missed you too,” he muttered into your hair, pulling your face tight to his chest.

The two of you stood there for a long time; Rhys could always sense when you needed something steady to hold onto. He claims it started before he even knew he had a sister, that sometimes late at night he could hear muffled sobs echoing in the back of his mind. That a gaunt little girl trapped under the mountain haunted his dreams for years before he was allowed to visit.

His father made sure he stayed away.

But as Rhys settled into his powers and got full control of them, he was able to establish a stable connection. It took a while before you trusted him; after all, you grew up with your mother telling you that the High Lord and his heir despised you.

Your sire, as Mother called him, had thrown her under the Mountain as soon as he found out she was pregnant. Set her up with a place to stay and not much else; you had a new stepfather every few years, and each one was worse than the last. The Black Widow, they called her, as her husbands had a habit of dying in unfortunate accidents.

As adults, you and Rhys were closer than most siblings, even those that grew up together. Unfortunately, that meant you had no choice but to get your shit together because running away was not an option.

“Wanna tell me why my General looks like a kicked puppy?” Rhys murmured into your hair. You felt the bond clench, tugging on your heart, and groan against your brother’s chest.

He ran a comforting hand up and down your back and you signed, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to keep what happened a secret for much longer, what with all the meddling busybodies you surrounded yourself with.

“We fought,” you muttered. “I’ve been avoiding him ever since.”

“And what, pray tell, did you fight about?”

You lifted your head, eyes glistening in the low candlelight as you blinked up at your brother. Heaving a sigh, you tell him everything that happened while he was gone. As soon as you opened your mouth, the words spilled out of you like they’d been waiting for the opportunity to escape.

Rhys had to stifle a chuckle when you finished your story because he loved you, but Mother above, you could be so stupid sometimes.

“Oh, Y/N,” he sighed, tugging you closer. He rested his chin on the top of your head and tugged on the ends of your hair with one hand.

You batted it away, groaning again.

“Listen, I’m not going to tell you what to do because I know you hate that,” he started, negating your protests before they had a chance to form. “But I think you need to talk to him. Unless you plan on avoiding him for the rest of your life, you’re going to need to work things out one way or another.”

“I could defect to another Court, I hear Summer’s wonderful this time of year.” Rhys shoved you towards the front of the library, ruffling your hair.

“Talk to him, you insufferable brat.”

—

It was surprisingly easy to find Cassian. He nearly knocked you over with the force of his pacing as you rounded the corner into the hallway leading to the kitchen and dining room.

“Oh, Y/N, hi,” he said, one arm bending to scratch the back of his neck. You could just barely make out a hint of red on the apples of his cheeks, though his tanned skin does a good job of trying to hide it.

“Hey, Cassie,” you said. His name came out breathier than you intended. “I, uh, wanted to apologize.” Cas was quiet, clearly ready to let you say what you needed to say. He leaned against the wall, nodding at you to keep going. After a deep breath, you did. “I’m sorry for being so rude and dramatic. The bond snapped for me a while ago, and I let the pent-up jealousy and bitterness get to me. That wasn’t fair to you, and I’ll try to be better about keeping my thoughts to myself in the future. Just because we’re bonded doesn’t mean you’re obligated to be with me. Whatever you choose, I’ll respect your decision, I promise.”

He smirked, pushed away from the wall, and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you standing there alone and confused.

A minute later, he was back with a giant cookie clutched in one hand; your favorite. It was a little burnt around the edges, but smells perfect. He closed the distance between the two of you in three long strides, wrapping his free arm around your waist.

“It’s you, it’s always been you, Y/N,” he breathed, leaning in until his lips hovered over yours for a few long, deliciously agonizing seconds before he pushed forward and captured them in a searing kiss.

You respond, startled but thrilled, and get lost in each other. He pulls away and holds the cookie to your lips, and you almost bite into it before remembering where you are then take a step back with your cheeks oozing heat, pushing his hand down to his ease the temptation rising from your core, into your chest, and up your throat. After four years of lying dormant, the bond threatened to take control of your body.

“We should probably go somewhere a bit more.. private,” you say, wrinkling your nose at the thought of someone, Mother forbid your brother, interrupting the frenzy.

Cassian growled. Going to the cottage, he said to Rhys, melting his mental shields down just enough to let the message flow between their minds.

Does this mean..? Rhys’s response is hesitant but hopeful.

Yes, Cassian’s response is gruff. Keep everyone away. I reserve the right to tear any intruders limb from limb.

He shut the connection, cutting Rhys off mid-cackle. His threat was genuine. Even just the idea of the frenzy has him boiling through his skin.

Cas scooped you into his arms and took off running down the hallway. As soon as you burst through the back door, he pushed off and then you were soaring through the sky towards Windhaven.

Towards your future with your mate.

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