#forgive me iris | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moononastring · 2 years ago

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Spirit Meets the Bones XXI

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Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama Please note: There will be heavy subjects discussed that may be triggering. Author's Note: I know this has taken a little long so I hope you enjoy this long one! I sincerely appreciate every single one of you ♥️ Feedback is always welcome and very encouraging :)

Something was wrong.

Iris had started to sense it not too long after Eris had left, a sense of unease worked its way through her chest and twisted in her gut. She tried to brush off the worry — today had been a whirlwind and Finn showing up suddenly was probably adding to the stress she was already feeling. Eris would be fine. He should be fine. Even if he was taking longer than she expected.

She let herself focus on other things while she waited, mindlessly tidying the room, washing up for bed, and lastly, actually choosing something she deemed indecent to wear to bed.

It was a beautiful olive-green gown, the material satin with lace trimmings that seemed to have been made for her, hugging her body in a way she knew would send her husband into a nice little spiral. Or, at least she hoped it would. It was also much shorter than she’d ever worn around Eris, barely reaching her midthigh and that — well, that made her a little more nervous than she’d like to be.

It was just skin after all. She’d gradually been showing him a little skin with each new set but never…never this much. Iris flushed deeply and then frowned at her reflection.

“Get over yourself.” she mumbled. “It’s not like you don’t want him to touch you.”

Because she did. If his kisses were any indication, Eris would likely be the death of her, and that had her feeling very nervous. But she had a nice long robe that would make her feel more secure. At least until they talked and she got answers to her questions.

Today had been challenging in its own way but this moment, choosing to be just a little more intimate with him…this was for her. For the way he had been making her feel the past few weeks. For the way his eyes always watched her with just a little hunger and a whole lot of amusement.

But mostly…for the way his voice had dropped when he had made his request earlier. He had asked so politely. It would be bad manners to refuse.

If he’d just hurry up and come back already.

Iris had been standing in front of the vanity, fidgeting slightly with the thin strap of her nightgown when a sharp tug to her ribcage had her freezing. A gasp left her lips as she steadied herself and the dread she had been trying to keep at bay came back in full force. She felt panicked. She felt — she felt pain.

Something was wrong and she didn’t understand what that was. That — that tug.

With shaking hands, she quickly slipped the robe over her gown and tied it firmly, rushing to her door and yanking it open.

She staggered to a halt in the doorway when one of Eris’s commanders turned to face her and she blinked in surprise.

“Oren?” she asked and straightened. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”

The general took a moment to scan the hall, empty aside the two of them then took a small step towards her and gave her a tight smile. “His Royal Highness, Prince Eris wished for you to have some additional protection at this time.” Oren said calmly but Iris’s heart stuttered in her chest. She didn’t miss the usage of the formal title, especially when Oren and Eris were friends and that never happened between them.

“Where is he?” she demanded. “He was supposed to be meeting with Finn earlier. Has something happened?”

The tight smile remained on Oren’s face. “The High Lord requested him earlier. He sent me here before he went.”

Iris inhaled sharply, her grip tightening on the doorframe as another sense of unease washed over her. “I knew something was wrong.” she said quietly and Oren narrowed his eyes at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Something is wrong. I can feel it.” Iris said and rubbed a hand to her forehead. “I’m going to change then go find —”

“I can’t let you leave.” Oren stated and Iris froze.

“Excuse me?”

Oren winced and Iris cocked a brow as he took a breath. “I am under orders to watch over you.” he said more gently. “Until he returns from his meeting with the High Lord.”

“He’s never had someone stand guard when he meets with the High Lord.” she said quietly and again, she felt that flutter of panic, and Oren’s lip thinned.

“It seems, the High Lord is angrier than usual.”

Iris bit her lip and then let out a breath. He was angry with Eris and Iris knew without a doubt, it had to be because of her. Because of her horrible father. “Fuck.” she mumbled and Oren gestured gently to the room behind her.

“I suggest you wait inside.”

“How am I supposed to wait when I know that —” she began then cut herself off in frustration, knowing she couldn’t say anything about the High Lord that wouldn’t get back to him. “How can I just wait when I’m telling you I can sense something is wrong!”

Oren gave her a look she didn’t quite understand then again, gently said, “I know it might be hard to wait but it’s better for you and him to stay here. He’ll worry about you less.”

Worry about her. As if she cared about herself at this moment. Knowing what she knew about Beron, she wouldn’t be surprised if he was tearing into Eris for not beating Iris alongside her father. She ran a hand through her hair and bit her lip, holding back a string of curses.

The High Lord needed Eris. Surely, he wouldn’t do anything — but Iris immediately shook her head. The High Lord would do whatever he wanted to his son.

And she could do nothing to protect him.

Shame and anger coiled in her stomach and Iris wished there was more she could do — anything she could do other than sit here and wait.

She glanced at the commander once more who only gave her a nod. She sighed.

“You don’t have to wait outside. I’ll be fine.” she said quietly. “No one can come in here without my permission.”

Oren gave her a small smile. “I know. But I am loyal to one male and one male only,” he said. “And I will do as he requested of me.”

Iris watched Oren carefully. So he knew all about Eris and the way things were with the High Lord. He’d also been a friend and commander of his for so long…but she had to ask, “Why?”

The corner of the commander’s mouth shifted up. “Because I see what he’s been trying to do. And I believe in him,” he said then gestured with his chin behind her again. “I’ll be here if you need anything until he returns.”

Knowing she’d been dismissed, Iris turned to go back into her rooms. Oren had distracted her briefly but as she slowly shut the door, her hands started to shake again. She couldn’t help the guilt threatening to consume her, couldn't help the twist in her gut. How long would Beron keep his son? What would he do to him?

Her eyes flickered to the grandfather clock sitting in the corner of their living space and she frowned. It was already so late in the evening. How much longer would this meeting take?

But an hour went by. Then several more.

And Iris spent the time pacing around their room, fighting back her anxiety and holding herself back from running past Oren and finding her husband herself.

She had been seated, curled up on their bed trying and failing to distract herself when she heard the familiar thud of their door closing and leaped to her feet.

“You took so long! I started to think —” Iris started but the rest of the words died in her throat at the sight of Eris in front of her.

Heat filled the room almost immediately as Iris halted a few feet away from him.

Her husband stood before her and Iris wasn’t sure where to look. At the now tattered jacket somehow still on his body. Or at the blood dripping from him. Or his hair that now barely reached the nape of his neck. She couldn’t stop staring, her heart rate increasing at the cold detachment on his face and the dead look in his eyes that set her on edge.

Iris tried to swallow, to hold back the horror and panic going through her body, to calm her shaking hands.

“What — what happened?” she asked carefully, taking a step closer to him. Eris’s gaze dropped to her feet and the step she took closer to him then back up to her face.

A beat of silence passed. Then another. Eris watched her, barely blinking and Iris didn’t dare move or say anything more as her fingers curled into the fabric of her robe.

Slowly and without saying a word, Eris gestured to his body, to the state he was in, and Iris tried to keep her expression from falling, tried to curb the slight panic clogging in her throat. Once again, Eris only glanced down then back up at her but this time, she saw wildfire in his eyes. The room’s temperature spiked and Iris felt her chest tighten as anger surged around them.

Eris wasn’t angry, no. He was seething. Fuming.

He took a step towards her and her heart started to beat frantically at the flame that had started to lick at his heels.

“Eris,” she started gently. “Tell me what happened.”

The Prince of Autumn cocked his head as his wild eyes watched her and Iris knew whatever had happened, whatever the High Lord had done to him, it was bad enough that Eris had gone someplace far, far away. And her Eris was not back yet.

His eyes narrowed on her and Iris couldn’t find it in her to say anything more, her body tensing instead. She wanted him to say something, anything to fill the silence, where the only sound she could hear was the frantic beating of her heart. Her husband had not returned as he had left and she wasn’t sure if he fully would. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself that would help him, that would ease whatever was going through his mind right now.

It was as she opened her mouth once more that Eris moved, taking one step towards her and Iris paused. She willed herself not to flinch as his hands lowered from behind his back and knew Eris had clocked the movement. His hands wouldn’t hurt her but it still didn’t stop her from watching them carefully.

They watched each other silently.

And Eris wanted to reply to her question, to speak, but he was having a hard time trying not to vomit. He was having a hard time trying to remember how to breathe properly. He had lost consciousness at some point enduring his father’s wrath and had woken up to find himself laying in his own blood. He didn’t remember being untied, and he didn’t know how much time had passed, but he knew he needed to check on his mother. He needed to get back to his wife.

So Eris had forced himself to stand on trembling legs, his wits barely about him. He forced himself to leave the throne room and muster what will he had left to winnow in front of his parent’s chambers. And Eris had waited, barely able to stand as his blood dripped from him to hear something, anything to indicate that his mother was alright. But Eris had heard nothing and he didn’t know if the deafening silence was worse than the cries of pain he had expected. Only when black dots began to line his vision had he finally forced himself to winnow once more to his own door.

He had waved off an alarmed Oren and allowed himself a moment to compose himself before walking in and standing as he stood now.

And he really, really wanted to hurl his guts because Iris was looking at him in a way he wasn’t used to in a moment like this. No one usually saw him like this. He mostly let himself go numb during his father’s unleashing and then, only when he was alone, did Eris let his anger consume him. But he had already been teetering on the edge today and he was no longer alone.

Iris said nothing as he stood there, only watching him with a level of concern that made his chest feel tight. She cared. She cared about what happened to him. She was not his father and she was not looking at him with anything but genuine concern and everything in him recoiled at the fact that she had to see him this way at all. That his father had put him in this position, to look weak and it made him so angry that Eris went momentarily blind with rage.

He forced himself to swallow and then do it again before he could unlock his jaw enough to speak.

“My father,” he began in a voice that wasn’t quite his and the flames licking his heels spiked up. “Wanted to give me a new look.” He held up a bloodied fist. “He suggested I choke you with what was left of this.”

Iris dropped her gaze to his hand holding — clutching strands of hair that was — she looked up at his face again then back down to his hand.

“Oh gods.” she mumbled and her heart sank to the pits of her stomach. What had the High Lord done to him? Or rather, what hadn’t the High Lord done to him? Iris took another hesitant step toward him and started to say, “Let me —”

But immediately, Eris held his other hand, stopping her in place and Iris fell silent. His eyes didn’t leave the hand holding the strands of his hair.

He finally glanced up at her, that wildfire in his eyes. “I told him to fuck off, of course.” he continued. “He didn’t take that well.” His gaze dropped again and Iris’s eyes followed to where a few drops of blood had dripped by his feet. She couldn’t even tell where it was coming from. “He didn’t take many things well during our conversation.”

“Conversation.” she repeated faintly and her face fell at the way his own hands had started to shake. “The state that you’re in is the result of a conversation.”

Eris fell silent again, blinking down at his trembling hands. A part of him wished he’d evaporate, simply melt into the floor and cease to exist. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel this way. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to think about how much this family had been through and how much more they’d have to suffer until his fucken father died. Maybe then he wouldn't have to worry about his wife being another body for his father to beat down.

Maybe then —

“Eris?”

He looked up at her gentle calling, so unlike the voice of his father who had spent the past few hours breaking him. The way she looked at him made him want to collapse.

He was bleeding and broken and there was no logical reason for it other than his father was a monster.

“How — how did you even walk the halls like this?” she finally asked and couldn’t help how choked her voice sounded, couldn’t help that she had to keep breaking his silence. Her own hands were shaking as she moved closer to him. “Let me help you — let me see wherever you’re bleeding from.”

Eris shook his head and tried to breathe. She cared and it was too much for him. He couldn’t do this now — he needed more time.

But even if he wanted to, that thread at his ribcage forced him to stay where he was. How could it not when he looked at her and it steadied him? That thread that had dragged him back here, to this room. That thread was the reason he hadn’t let his fire consume him.

It took him another moment to speak, his eyes unblinking as he watched her. “I shouldn’t be able to winnow directly in the House but stubborn as I am,” he said with a hoarse laugh and swayed slightly. “I can bend the magic to my will.” He pointed a bloody finger at her. “I think it has to do with you.”

This rooted Iris to where she stood. “With me?” she repeated in a whisper.

“With you.” he confirmed and lowered a trembling hand to his side, his eyes unfocused. “I had to come back to you. You were waiting for me.”

Iris’s mouth trembled and she tried to swallow back the cascade of emotions surging through her body at his words. “What can I do?” she pleaded. “What do you need right now to make this moment easier?”

“What do I need.” he repeated and his eyes fell back to his hands. Iris watched his grip tighten until a flame burst in his fist and what was left of his hair was no more. Eris shook his head again, his chest rising and falling as he tried to breathe. Her face fell as he backed a step from her, both fists aflame now. “You shouldn’t be near me right now.” he said and his gaze flickered up, his wild eyes watching her. “I — I am not — I don’t —”

What was left of her battered heart broke further. He was physically standing before her but Iris could see the struggle in his eyes to connect to their reality. She wanted to reach him. She needed to reach him and remind him, that he was hers and she would take care of him the way he took care of her.

“It’s okay.” she said as gently as possible and slowly reached out a hand. “Let me help you.”

“Don’t.” Eris snarled so viciously that Iris couldn’t stop the flinch this time, yanking her hand back immediately.

A thick silence filled the room once more and Iris watched her husband’s chest rise and fall, his breathing starting to turn shallow, those wild eyes watching her in an almost pained resolve at her reaction.

“You flinched from me.” he said, the words barely distinguishable.

Iris swallowed and she hid her trembling hands in the folds of her robe. “It’s alright.” she said softly and saw the way he shuddered at the two words. “You — you surprised me. That’s all.”

He took a step towards her and Iris froze, waiting as he breathed more deeply, the flame licking his body seeming to flare and then shrink with each breath. “I’m — I’m sorry.” he said, his voice guttural. “I need — I — I need —”

“You need a moment.” she said as his body shook and she fought every instinct to reach out again. She — she wanted to hold him, needed to. But he wasn’t there yet. He was still finding his way back to himself. So she tried to reassure him from their six feet of distance. “That’s alright. Why don’t you go change?”

He nodded and blinked at her, his gaze still unfocused. “Shower.”

“Okay.” she said and nodded carefully. “I’ll — I’ll ask for some tea.”

But her husband just stared at her. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I won’t.”

“Stay.” he said then repeated, “Don't go anywhere.”

Iris gave him a tentative smile, trying and failing to hide how deep her worry ran. She tightened her grip on her robe so she wouldn’t reach out to him again. “I’m not going anywhere, Eris. I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

She watched him as he watched her and again felt that tug in her ribcage that she didn’t understand as Eris swallowed hard then slowly, as if he was forcing himself to, he walked away from her and into their bathroom.

The door shut behind him and Iris’s face fell. How badly had that…conversation gone? She had no doubt her own father had played a part in it after the way Eris had humiliated him but to what extent? How many more gifts had Beron given Eris? Letting out a shaky breath, her eyes fell to the drops of blood that had left a trail behind him.

An icy rage blinded her momentarily and Iris wanted nothing more than to find the High Lord and stab him violently until he choked on his own blood. Until he had enough wounds to make up for the ones he put on his son even if it would never be enough. The world would be a better place when the time came and he was gone.

The sound of the water running had her blinking back to reality and Iris forced herself to snap into action and move.

It didn’t slip her mind that earlier in the day, their situations had been the opposite and Iris wanted nothing more than to erase the anger and the shame that tied both of them to shitty fathers.

She knew Eris was…not himself yet. She knew he needed a way back and Iris needed to believe that there was a way out of this — this darkness they were surrounded in. There had to be.

No one deserved to live like this and as she wiped away any signs of his bleeding heart, Iris knew she would give him whatever he needed. Anything that would be a bright light for him on an otherwise dark night. So she had the tea tray ready with a bottle of hard liquor seated right next to it. Most importantly, she had tried to discreetly have her healing salves ready in the event he felt comfortable enough for her to touch him.

She waited, too restless to sit, and paced between the sitting table and hovering by the door of the bathroom, listening in case — Iris wasn’t sure in case of what but was sure she wanted to be close by.

Iris had just moved away from the door again when it finally opened and she immediately turned to find Eris standing in his sleeping attire. She tried not to frown at the way his body was still tense and her eyes roamed his face.

“I have the tea.” she said quietly. “And um, alcohol.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up a millimeter before his expression shifted to the blank one she hated and he walked over to her, stopping a few feet away.

She waited, letting him take his time as he glanced down at his feet and then back up at her, his anger still lingering around him.

He watched her, his hands at his sides. “I made you flinch away from me.”

“You were angry.” she said simply.

“I would never harm you, Iris.”

His tone offered no argument and the corner of her own mouth curled up. Anger towards her had typically only meant one thing but she knew, deep in her weary bones, that Eris would never hurt her.

So Iris took a step closer to him and made sure she met his gaze as she replied in a tone that also offered no argument, “I know.” she said. “Your anger wasn’t towards me.”

His nostrils flared at the reminder and Iris almost regretted saying anything but then he took another step closer to her. “No. It wasn’t,” he said and Iris let her gaze drop to his hands that were clenching and unclenching at his sides. “After…events like this, I usually…am alone. To process.”

The words, the resignation in them, made her ache. Iris wondered how many times he’d had to process alone, with no one to share this burden with.

She looked up again and took one more step toward him as she slowly held out her hands. “Well, you’re not alone anymore,” she said quietly and watch as his gaze dropped to her open hands. “I’m here.”

��Yes, you are.” he said so softly and Iris felt her heart twist. It took him a moment and she felt his hesitation, as if afraid to touch her but she waited. She waited as he clenched and then unclenched his hands once more before he slid his hands into hers.

“I’m here to listen if you want to talk about it,” she said as softly as he had spoken. “If not, I’m still here.”

His grip on her hands had tightened and she watched as his breath quickened for a moment, working his jaw. “I will. I have to,” he said hoarsely. “Or I will lose my mind.”

“Okay.” she simply said even as her chest tightened at the slight tremble in his hands. “I can’t have you losing your mind over anything except me, can I now?”

Eris tried to give her a smile but it turned more into a grimace and Iris gave him a small smile of her own, wanting to bring him some sense of ease. She glanced down at their intertwined hands and let her thumb caress the back of his hand gently. “I don’t think I ever actually told you but…” she met his gaze. “I like how your hands feel holding mine. I have since that day I met the puppies for the first time and you told me I have lovely hands.”

She watched the Prince of Autumn shudder at the words and it took him another moment before he could answer her. “Not puppies,” he said and Iris couldn’t help her small smile, especially as he continued in words so quiet, she almost missed them. “I like how your hands feel in mine too.”

“Smart male.” she said and again, the corner of his mouth lifted but this time, it remained curled up, and again, Iris couldn't stop staring at him. He may look a little different with the sloppy cut he had been given but it didn’t change the feeling that was spreading in her chest. She loved it when he smiled, especially if she was the reason. She liked his wicked mouth too much.

Iris made to move towards the table but Eris’s grip tightened on her and she turned to find his expression tense, his body rigid.

“Don’t go.”

“I’m only getting you a drink.” she said gently and Eris swallowed then gave a small nod and squeezed her hands once more before reluctantly letting go. Iris couldn't help the way she softened at the way he watched her, as though she was his tether to his way home.

How many times had he needed someone but had suffered alone? How many times had she been in the same scenario? It made her wonder how often had they shared a moment like this in their separate lives…two sides of the same miserable fucken coin indeed.

The thought exhausted her and with a swallow, Iris pulled away to turn to the table, feeling his eyes on her. As if she’d disappear if he blinked. She opted for the alcohol and filled both teacups to the brim. She may have the power to heal but with wounds that ran as deep as her husband’s…she wasn’t sure if she would be enough.

She carefully handed him his teacup and stood opposite him as they glanced at one another.

They did so much watching one another. So much observing. They exchanged so much without saying a word and Iris wondered if he could hear the way her blood was pumping so loudly in her ears. If he knew she could hear the rapid beating of his heart.

She gestured with her chin. “Drink.”

He glanced down at the cup in his hand and then looked up with a quirked brow. “This isn’t tea.”

“I think we need something a little stronger tonight.” she said gently and Eris gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes before lifting the cup in a mock salute and knocking it back.

Iris switched their cups and handed him hers with a small smile at the dry chuckle that escaped him before he drank it as well. But her expression immediately fell as his body gave a shudder followed by a small grunt of pain and Iris’s grip tightened on her cup.

“I’m sorry.” she whispered and the apology seemed to dim any momentary lightness Eris had experienced.

“For what.” he said dryly.

“For whatever happened. For all of it.” she continued and Iris tried not to fidget beneath his gaze. “For anything that I might’ve had to do with it.”

Eris stared at her in silence, his expression tight, and the only sound in the room was the tapping of his fingers against his cup. What seemed like a lifetime later, he reached out to take the empty teacup from her hands and turned from her to place them back on the table.

He stood like this for several quiet moments and it made Iris tense again, wondering if he needed more time. If she should’ve backed off and let him be alone. Even if that was the last thing she wanted to do. She wanted —

“You know, my father wanted you with me for this little meeting.” Eris finally said and Iris blinked.

“Why?”

Eris turned to face her again and leaned against the table. She didn’t miss the way, a second later, he moved a slight inch to avoid his back making contact.

“You see,” he began and glanced down at his hands. “He found out about my little encounter with your father and didn’t quite like that.” His hands slowly clenched into fists as he spoke. “The High Lord wanted you on your knees apologizing to your father. At your father’s request, of course.”

“What?” she croaked.

“But my father also wanted me to apologize to your father for beating him. Because I did it for you,” he said and then gave her a dry smile. “And well, the High Lord can’t have his son beating people for his wife now, can he? The only person the High Lord’s son should be beating is his own wife.”

Iris’s fingers dug into the folds of her robe as anger and shame washed over her once more. For the audacity of her father and the cruelty of his.

“He doesn’t deserve an apology,” she said through clenched teeth. “He deserves death.”

“I agree.” Eris said and he slowly made his way over to her, the room heating again with each step. “Which is why my father tied me to a flogging pole and whipped me within an inch of my life. Because I told him that my wife apologizes to no one and I certainly do not apologize to anyone either, especially filth.” he snarled softly and straightened with an angry wince. “So do me a favor? Do not apologize for their choices ever again. My wife doesn’t apologize for things she had no hand in.”

Horror slammed into her as she stared at Eris, fully engulfed in his own flame. At the way he had so casually admitted what his father had done.

“He — he whipped you?” she whispered and watched his body tense again, the temperature in the room spiking once more.

“Yes. But before that, I broke both of your father’s legs and his face again.” he said and Iris saw his fists clench again. “So that makes us somewhat even.”

“Eris…” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. How can he ask her not to apologize when she was the reason he was hurt? When it was because of her father that he had been pulled so far away from himself.

And she hated how it fell silent between them again. She hated that he felt this way. That he was made to be feeling this level of anger and despair. As if every word that fell from his mouth took too much effort, too much work.

Iris hadn’t realized how desperately she wanted to make him feel better. To bring back that stupid smirk she pretended to hate so much. She wanted to —

“Don’t look at me like that.” he said so tiredly and it made her ache. With a shake of his head and a deep breath, his flame went out, and he turned away from her, moving towards their bed.

But Iris froze and every single thought emptied from her head.

With his back to her, Eris’s shirt had clung to his skin and tiny beads of blood peppered the white shirt.

He looked over his shoulder, meeting her horrified gaze, and immediately looked away from her, his shoulders tensing as he lowered himself to sit at the edge of the bed.

“Don’t.”

“Eris, you’re bleeding again.”

“I know.” he managed then rubbed a hand down his face. “Just please stop looking at me like that.”

Iris bit the inside of her mouth, outraged on his behalf and hating that he felt embarrassed by any of it. She willed herself to breathe. One breath in, one breath out. They couldn’t catch a break. A small dosage of time where they could just be. Where everything between them didn’t have to get so fucken hard the moment they found a little ease.

“Look at you like what?” she finally said and made her way over to him. She sank down next to him and knew her expression gave away the panic she was trying to control. “Like I’m disgusted with what happened to you? Like I’m horrified that your father hurt you because of me and my piece of shit father?”

She stared at him then waved a hand helplessly. “How else am I supposed to look at my husband who left me in one way then came back another?” she added softly. “How else am I supposed to look when I want to help you so badly but I’m unsure how?”

Iris watched his throat bob as he swallowed. “Careful, wife. You sound like you care about me.” he said and Iris let out a huff of frustration then glared at him.

“I do care, you stupid bastard.” she muttered, flushing deeply and the dead look in his eyes was given a short reprieve when he gave her a small smile.

“That’s good to know.” he said and then fell silent, the weight of this whole day and what was left unsaid suffocating.

And as Iris watched him, she was hit by the need to kiss him. The need to run her hands down his arms and chest and scarred back that she wanted to help him heal and then kiss better. She wanted anything but whatever this heaviness was, anything but that awful expression on his face. Her eyes scanned his slightly ruffled hair and how tired his eyes were and her frown deepened.

Slowly, she reached out a hand to gently touch his face, giving him all the time in the world to push her hand away if he desired. But he didn’t and Iris turned his head so he’d face her and his exhaustion slammed into her.

“What happened was not acceptable.” she whispered. “And for that, I am sorry that it happened to you. Because you don’t deserve it. You didn’t do anything wrong and he had no right to treat you that way.”

Eris scoffed faintly but swallowed before closing his eyes and hesitated for a heartbeat then nuzzled gently into her hand. He hated how desperately he needed the softness of her touch. How badly he wanted to be soothed. She was here and even if he felt like death itself, she was here. “No one deserves what he delivers.” he finally said quietly. “But we still take it.”

“You should not have to.”

“No.” he said and straightened with a grimace, taking her hand in his hand. He let his thumb caress her palm as he added, “None of us should have to.”

“Please let me look at your back,” she whispered but he shook his head, his thumb still rubbing her hand gently. Whether it was to soothe him or to soothe her, she wasn’t sure. "Please. Let me heal it."

A muscle in his jaw flexed and Iris had to remind herself that his anger wasn't at her.

“I can heal it myself,” he replied but not unkindly. “I’m choosing not to at the moment.”

"Why?”

“Pain is good. It keeps the memory fresh.”

Once again, the room heated at the words and Iris’s body went rigid. He was so angry and gods, she knew that anger. She had tasted the humiliation he felt. And she knew without question that beneath that anger was so much sadness. So much exhaustion. So much…yearning. For more. For different.

For love. For some sense of normalcy in a fucked up home that showed them no mercy.

Iris could practically hear his mind whirling and it pulled at her heart because she had started to understand him in a way very few people did. Slowly, she reached out once more and gently forced him to meet her gaze.

“There is no part of you that deserves pain like this, Eris.” she said firmly and hated the way she could see his disbelief, as though it wasn’t true.

Eris’s eyes fluttered closed at the words, a muscle flexing in his jaw. “How do you know that? That I don’t deserve pain? I’ve made bad choices. I’ve had to do bad things.”

She shook her head. “Making bad decisions and being forced to do bad things doesn’t make you a bad person. You’ve had to carry so much…give yourself some room.” she said and then added quietly, “Unburden yourself with me. Let me help you.”

Eris met her gaze and she watched the internal struggle in his eyes as he worked his jaw. Finally, he said, “There’s too much. It’s a lot.”

“I know. You were ready to tell me earlier. So tell me now.” she encouraged calmly. “You told me you wanted to know the side of me I didn’t like anyone seeing. That you wanted to see.” She squeezed his hand. “Well, I want to know too. I want to see.”

Eris seemed to pause and then his gaze hardened as he straightened. “Iris,” he began and her brows furrowed at the urgency in his tone. “You have to understand whatever I tell you, it has been kept a secret in order for us to survive. I do not trust anyone as much as I’m allowing myself to trust you. Don’t — don’t make me regret it.”

She tilted her head and watched him for a quiet minute. “Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?”

“No.” he said and swallowed. “But when you’ve been living in a pit of snakes for so long, you’re never sure which one will bite. Things have changed between us but…I have this doubt in the back of my mind that you’ll take anything I say and give it to the highest bidder to get out of this marriage and run.” He paused for a moment and licked his lips. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

She watched him quietly again and it made her chest tighten that even after things had shifted between them, this still worried him. So Iris swallowed and decided to be honest as well.

“And despite the changes between us…I still fear that someday you’ll realize you could beat the living shit out of me every single day and no matter how much I can defend myself, you’ll still overpower me.” she replied. “But I have not seen anything from you that would truly have me succumb to that doubt. Have you seen anything from me to feed into those doubts?”

He paused but Iris didn’t fail to notice how his thumb was back to caressing her hand softly, almost as a way to calm himself down.

“No.” he said after a moment. “You’re my wife and my friend and my — you’re many things. I — I trust you.”

“Good. Because I trust you too.” she whispered. “I’ve trusted you not to hurt me and you haven’t.”

He shook his head and held up her hand in his. “It is my job to protect you. These fists will fight for you.”

Iris couldn’t help the small smile that bloomed on her face or the way her heart swelled at the words. “And I am grateful for that.” she said. “But then who protects you?”

His mouth curled into a tired smile and he sighed. “Apparently, it’s my wife with her healer's hands.”

Iris gave him a pointed look then gestured to his shirt with her chin. “Then let these hands help you.”

Eris tensed and his grip tightened on his wife’s hands. He wasn’t used to anyone being near him whenever this happened. Wasn’t used to anyone seeing any of his scars, much less fresh ones.

But this was Iris. His wife. His mate. And he wanted her hands to touch him. To fit all of his pain in the palm of her lovely hands and wipe it away.

Eris didn’t let himself overthink it as he finally released her hand from his and only hesitated for a moment before he pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the ground. He knew Iris hadn’t meant to make a noise but the sharp intake of breath that slipped from her mouth had him digging his hands into his thighs, tensing even further. He would not overthink it. His shirt was already off and she’d seen his scars before…even if his back had never looked this bad.

“Quite a masterpiece my father made, didn't he?” he mused quietly then dared to glance over his shoulder to find Iris’s face flushed in anger, her eyes locked on his back.

The High Lord had avoided his face, of course. He only left bruises where others couldn’t see and had certainly not held back. He knew the scars would line his back, the back of his upper arms, and his neck. He didn’t want to think about his hair and how his father had deliberately kept it down so it would stick in his wounds and make the sting worse.

“Do you think, if I didn’t want your wife here, she wouldn’t be?” his father had whispered to him after the first crack of the whip. “Do you think I couldn’t have her in your position right now if I didn’t want to?”

Eris’s blood had boiled at the mere thought of Iris being subjected to any of this but he kept his mouth shut. He had endured.

“You’ve gotten too bold, son. You’ve forgotten yourself.”

He had indeed. Eris had forgotten how his father liked to play. But Beron had reminded him over and over again exactly what happens to those who cross the High Lord. Eris had forced his body to shut down and closed off his mind until his father was finished. The only thoughts he allowed himself were of Iris waiting for him.

“I look forward to the day his blood fills these halls.” she muttered. “He deserves nothing but a brutal and painful death.”

The corner of Eris’s mouth curled up. “Bloodthirsty, are you?”

“I am your wife.” she said with a pointed look and a small chuckle escaped him despite how wretched he felt.

Yes, she was. His lovely little wife.

“Tell me, how pretty do you think your lovely little Iris would look bleeding all over the throne room floor?” his father had whispered.

His magic had recoiled violently at his father’s threats. Eris had nearly choked on the taste of ash in his mouth.

“I could make you watch. Or…have you be the one to make her bleed. What do you think, son?”

“Eris?”

He blinked himself back into reality to find his fists had burst into flame again and Iris watched him patiently. Eris hadn’t even seen or heard her bring a small bowl with a towel and salves, resting them on the nightstand beside them. He cleared his throat and flexed his hands to calm down. “Hm?”

“I need to start cleaning the wounds and wanted to make sure it’s still alright for me to touch you.” she asked and Eris felt himself nearly break at the question.

He forced himself to take a steadying breath and hoped she didn’t see the slight tremble in his hands when he rubbed his forehead. “Yes.” he said. “It’s always alright for you to touch me.”

She gently squeezed his arm at the words and he tried to hold back the shudder. He wasn’t used to anyone taking care of him. He could heal himself just fine but his wife wanted to help him. His mate wanting to touch him made a world of a difference and Eris knew the thread that he was holding on to was on its last legs. He had to get everything off his chest, all the burdens he carried.

Iris guided him to sit at the corner of the bed and turn his back to her, working in silence at first and Eris forced himself to relax as she gently dipped his head forward and began cleaning with a soft cloth. This was not his father putting his hands on him, it was his Iris. Her lovely, lovely hands soothed the broken pieces of him. She touched him with featherlike movements and the way his body was reacting to the softness of her hands alarmed him.

This was pathetic. He was pathetic.

“Does this…has this happened often?” Iris asked into the silence of their room. “I know you have older scars.”

The cloth slid against the nape of his neck and Eris breathed in deeply through his nose, digging his fingers into his thighs. He knew without looking at his wife, that Iris had picked up on it and her touch had gotten even gentler. “You remember when I told you earlier about the High Lord and his ways?” He began tightly and Iris hummed in response. “He leads with fear and a very heavy hand. And I use the term leads very loosely.”

Eris forced himself to swallow as Iris began to pat his back dry and continued.

“He changed Under the Mountain. He was always rough around the edges but…that time awakened a side of my father that he has not returned from. We all did what we had to do to survive those fifty years but he…he became more vicious.” he said quietly. “Prior to that, he lashed out a lot and his fists spoke before his mouth ever did but it wasn’t consistent. You weren’t sure what would trigger him. The flogging is saved for special occasions, when we really piss him off.” Eris couldn’t look at her as he added, “The first time he used it was on my mother. He made my brothers and I all watch.”

Iris froze behind him, hand in midair as revulsion coursed through her.

“It was after Lucien was born.” Eris said, his voice carefully void of emotion. “We were all locked in place by his magic and had to watch her bleed. We had to listen to her scream and could do nothing. None of us were really the same after that, especially my mother.”

“Why?” Iris managed to choke out and Eris looked over his shoulder at his wife.

“Monsters don’t need reasons but…” he turned away again and with his voice barely above a whisper said, “My mother had an affair and my father found out. Lucien…is not my father’s son.”

Iris blinked rapidly. “W-what?”

“My mother met a male that she fell in love with before she met my father but her family decided power was more important than their daughter’s happiness and married her off to my father anyway,” he said, his voice dull as he glanced at his wife again before his gaze dropped to his hands. “Their relationship was…a checkbox that was fulfilled. And things were fine. Until they weren’t.”

Iris forced herself to move, to place the cloth down on the nightstand and pick up the salves instead. “What happened?” she asked as she sat behind him once more.

Eris tensed as she began to apply the ointment, forcing himself to breathe through his nose again and calm his thoughts. “The male she loved saved her during the first war and they reconnected.” he continued. “Then the affair began on and off for years. Until my father found out after Lucien was born and nothing about her was the same afterward.”

Iris bit her lip, trying to hold back the nausea she was feeling as tension lined Eris’s back again, his shoulders stiff. “My mother was so full of light and love. A firecracker with magic that almost rivaled my father’s. She was…happy until that day.” Eris said and dread filled Iris’s chest when Eris pulled away to meet her gaze. “After he was done spilling her blood in the throne room that day, he took her away and they were gone for days. We did not know where they went or what he did to her then but when they came back, no fire was left in the Lady of Autumn. Nothing of who my mother had been was left.”

Iris’s heart was nearly beating out of her chest as the room heated once more. She watched Eris’s knuckles turn white from how hard he was clenching them. “Later on, after my mother remembered how to speak and to look at me without flinching,” he growled softly and Iris’s heart shattered further. “She told me everything. About her affair. About what happened. That he had used her fire against her. That he beat her and hurt her, and burned her so badly, he made her fear the fire that made her who she was. She is terrified of it because of how badly he made it hurt.” He let out a breath full of rage. “Since then he has never stopped belittling her and breaking her down. Hasn’t stopped doing everything he can to make her small and weak and prey.”

“And I hate him.” he snarled darkly and Iris felt the bed heat below her as she looked over at Eris, his eyes ablaze. “I hate him with every atom in my body. I loathe him and loathe the life he has forced us to live. I cannot stand the sight of him or the sound of his voice or feeling his eyes on me. I hate that he even breathes the same air as my mother. I hate that he uses my mother against my brothers and me.” Iris watched his shoulders rise and fall as he took shallow breaths. “But most of all, I hate that he’s still alive when his final breathes are a symphony I have been waiting to hear for years.”

Iris blinked and in the next moment, their whole chamber was in flames.

She gasped, her hands dropping to her lap as fire covered every inch of their room. She looked to Eris who had his eyes closed, his head tilted as frustration dripped from every inch of him. Her eyes turned to scan the room, feeling the heat and smelling the smoke. Though none of the flames touched her body, Eris was completely aflame.

“We survived fifty years of darkness beneath that fucken mountain for the nightmare to continue within this forest. He is a plague and the dream of his death is the only thing that keeps me going.”

Silence fell between them as Iris watched his fire burn throughout the room. She wondered what would happen if he did let it melt everything away. What would happen when he eventually unleashed?

“Does he know?” Iris finally asked. “That you have all this inside you?”

“He knows. Everyone knows. I will be the next High Lord.” Eris said quietly. “My power has been brewing for years and everyone can sense it. I have all this rage and all this fire but I’ve had to hold back.” He ran his tongue over his teeth. “His death has always been marked for my mother and until she is ready to get out, we cannot make a move. We endure and play my father’s games…but every now and then, I need to let it out.”

And with those words, the flames flickered out in the room. Iris’s eyes surveyed everything and found...nothing was damaged. Nothing ruined — only a lingering smell of smoke.

Turning back to him, Iris found him staring at her, smoke coming off him in waves at what remained of his rage. He blinked at her, his expression blank as his exhaustion stared back at her.

“Did I frighten you?” he asked quietly as she watched him. “I’ve shown you quite a bit of my dark side lately.”

But Iris was not frightened. Not in the least. She felt — she felt seen.

She shook her head and stood carefully, returning the healing ointments to the small table beside them. How did she explain to him that there was nothing frightening about what he said? That all she felt was understood?

Finding her way back next to him, Iris sat with little space between them and color bloomed on her face when Eris’s eyes dipped to the inch between their bodies. She let her hand slide up and gently, with a tenderness she knew they both needed, let her finger delicately trace his face.

“I’m not afraid,” she said and then let her finger continue to slide up, gently musing the hair she knew he would later mourn. “I am only enraged for you.”

A heartbeat passed then Eris shuddered beneath her touch, a sigh of relief fluttering through the whole room and Iris couldn’t help the urge to lean in and kiss him. She did so tenderly, a caress of a kiss that Eris sighed into.

He couldn’t bring himself to touch her yet, to wrap arms around her when he was still so furious He allowed himself to trace the material of her robe beneath his fingers instead.

“I told you there was so much to tell you.” Eris said quietly and Iris pulled her hand away to rest in his empty one, the corner of her mouth curling up.

“And I told you I want to know.” she replied. “So tell me.”

Though exhaustion had melted his bones, Eris knew he needed to keep talking. He needed to get this all off his chest. And then he hoped he’d get to spend the rest of the night kissing her.

Eris forced himself to breathe deeply and slowly rolled his shoulders back, the tightness of his skin as it healed fueling his anger. “My brothers and I excel in pretending to hate each other and pretending we want to kill each other.” Eris glanced at Iris. “We each control a territory and let my father believe what he sees about where our loyalty lies but do what we can to keep our lives moving. The two brothers who tried to kill Lucien after Jesminda were the two that were most like my father. The rest of us were not sorry to see them go.”

Iris watched him curiously. “Your brothers…they are not as terrible as I’m supposed to believe, are they?”

“I personally think they’re all piles of shit but no, they’re not.” Eris said and the corner of his mouth ticked up at Iris’s expression. “We’re not close but we have an understanding. They’re …trying to survive.”

Iris nodded slowly, her eyes falling to her hands in his and the way his thumb was still caressing her palms. “Do your brothers know about Lucien?”

Eris pursed his lips before answering. “My mother…preferred for everyone’s sake, they stay in the dark about it for as long as possible but they needed to know. We had to be on the same page for her sake. So with her permission, I told them. But the only people in this court who know Lucien is not a Vanserra aside from my parents are my three brothers.” he said and met her gaze. “And now you.”

Iris nodded slowly, a strange sense of pride filling her chest that Eris was sharing with her. That he trusted her when he trusted very few. She felt that strange tug in her ribcage once more.

“Things are never truly what they seem with you Vanserra clan, is it?” she said with a small huff of laughter and Eris couldn’t help but scoff.

“Nothing is ever what it seems,” he said. “Except my father. He’s always been a piece of shit.”

Iris chuckled and she couldn’t quite place the emotions she felt as she watched him. She saw the exhaustion, the heavyweight suffocating him. She hadn’t forgotten when he told her how often he mediated between his parents. How many times he’d had to do it for others as well? How often had he been the one to catch the brunt of his father’s wrath?

Eris shifted next to her and it made her focus on him once more, his expression tight and she braced herself for whatever he would say next.

“Lucien’s father is also why he and Elain live in the Day Court.” Eris said slowly. “Courtesy of the High Lord.”

Iris blinked rapidly. “Oh.”

Eris nodded and waited for a heartbeat as it clicked for Iris.

“Helion?” Iris’s shocked whisper had the corner of Eris’s mouth curl up before it fell once more.

“The High Lord of the Day Court is my brother’s father, yes.” Eris began then swallowed hard before continuing, “He is also…my mother’s mate.”

Iris’s shocked silence filled the room. “Oh gods.”

Everything suddenly made so much sense to Iris. The High Lord’s contempt towards Lady Enya. His reaction whenever Lucien was brought up.

“Oh gods.” she said again and Eris’s mouth went into a thin line. “How did your father find out?”

“When Lucien was born…no one thought anything of it. He looked like any other baby.” Eris said quietly. “Until one day…he started to glow whenever he laughed. Or whenever he was fussy. It didn’t take my father long to figure it out after that. Everything went downhill from there.” He looked down at their hands. “My mother…she only ever stayed for her sons. So we wouldn’t be left completely at his mercy growing up. And my father knew this. He spared no chance in breaking us all down for her choice.”

“That’s why your father did what he did to Lucien.” Iris said and Eris nodded solemnly.

“Once he knew Lucien wasn’t his, it wasn’t hard for him to differentiate his treatment. He hated looking at him. Hated speaking to him. My father couldn’t outright disown him because it would bring questions and you want the High Lord to admit his wife had an affair? And birthed a son from another High Lord? He would never.” Eris said, scowling. “He knew he could treat my mother the way he does because she broke it off with Helion. For us. For Helion. So there wouldn’t be some kind of crisis between the two courts. She’s been suffering so others won’t.”

Eris swallowed then looked at Iris. “They’re mates.” he whispered. “And he let her go because she chose us. She chose her children. But she always wanted him and he always wanted her.” Eris’s eyes fell down to their joined hands, his shoulders dropping. “He has never stopped loving her. Helion may pretend he hasn’t been waiting for her all these years with his dalliances and carefree attitude but he will always wait for her. Even when he doesn't want to.”

Iris’s heart broke for Lady Enya and for the High Lord she didn’t know. It broke for the son who knew everything and had to watch his mother fade away and his father become a monster.

“That must’ve been so hard for your mother.” she said quietly. “After all these years…” Iris shook her head. “When did Lucien find out? And Helion?”

“A few years ago.” Eris continued with a sigh. “After the war, something…something in my mother changed. Maybe it was the war or maybe her capacity of dealing with my father had finally reached its limits or maybe she realized her sons had only suffered watching her suffer and she was done waiting but…” He shook his head. “I saw a small spark of who she was return and she decided she wanted Lucien to know.”

Iris scrunched up her nose then shook her head.“I’m sure that went well.”

“Considering I had to be the one to tell him because he wouldn’t set foot here? It went great.” Eris said with a snort so like his usual self that Iris couldn't help the small smile. “My mother wrote him a letter. And I had to watch Lucien have a fucken meltdown once he read it.”

Iris shook her head again. “You can’t blame him, Eris. He endured all that he did with a piece of shit that wasn’t even his father.” she said and squeezed Eris’s hand. “Who knows what kind of life he would’ve had if he had known about Helion sooner. I’m sure it was hard for you both.”

“It wasn’t as hard as the time I had to be the one to tell Helion.”

Iris’s brows went up but she held off on saying a word as Eris’s shoulder tensed again. He had been sharing with her so easily, so openly, she didn’t want to say anything to have him shut down.

“What happened?” she asked quietly and Eris sighed.

“I told you how my mother started to…come back to us.” Eris said and Iris nodded. “Well. Lucien wasn’t the only one she wrote a letter to.”

Eris shifted, running a hand through his hair while his other hand stayed wrapped in hers. “I didn’t read it, of course, but I know she told him. And I know she told Lucien that she’d let Helion know but it was up to the two of them to connect if they wanted to,” he said quietly. “She hoped they would but didn’t want to push it. She felt awful enough to have hidden it all these years and then to not be able to tell them herself…” Eris fell silent with a grimace. His mother’s face had rarely been dry from how often she cried those days.

“How did Helion take it?” Iris asked softly.

“I have never seen someone breakdown the way the High Lord of Day did that day.” Eris shook his head again with a frown. “I think he was already at a breaking point and that was a final straw. It was messy. For Lucien. For Helion. For my mother.” he said. “There was a lot of resentment. A lot of anger. A lot of hurt. Especially because my mother can’t speak to either of them in person…she dropped this tragic surprise on them and essentially put them in a position to deal with it without her.” Eris waved a hand. “Even if it’s not by choice, it…was hard for everyone.”

“Including you, I’m sure,” she said and squeezed his hand again. “Being the in-between.”

“I was more worried my father would find out again. What would he do to her this time if he found out she’d reached out to the one male she never stopped loving?” he said quietly then shrugged with a deep sigh. “But they have a code. She writes him letters and he replies.”

Iris felt emotion swell in her at the Lady of Autumn and the love she never stopped holding on to. “The letters she writes to Lucien include a letter for Helion, don’t they?”

Eris let out a harsh laugh. “It’s reckless after all these years but...I see her face every time she hands me a letter and whenever he sends one back. I’ve watched her wait and suffer for all these years so she could find her way back to herself. And Helion…” His expression was tight as he continued. “He would worship the ground she walks on. He would give her everything that she’s ever wanted and a life that she deserves but we have had to watch her stay here because of us. We had to watch her die little by little each year and could do nothing.” His voice broke at the final word and Eris forced himself to swallow before continuing. “He is a better male than I could ever be. Because if my mate was suffering the way my mother has, I wouldn’t have left a person alive. I would’ve razed the whole fucken continent. I don’t know how he did it. How he still does it after they’ve reconnected.”

It took a moment for Eris to be able to continue. He sighed. “Helion has always been respectful of her choice. Even when he resented it. Even when he hated it.” he said. “Their bond…I don’t think it was ever really rejected because deep down, neither of them wanted that. I think it’s just been strained all these years.”

“And now here they are…” Iris mused quietly, her mind drifting to the conversation she had with Elain earlier. “A mating bond so strong even years apart couldn’t diminish how right it is. It’s a beautiful thing for those lucky enough to find it.”

Eris tensed at her words, his heart skipping a beat. Would she still feel this way about him when he told her? Would she consider herself lucky knowing the kind of shit he had to deal with? He rubbed a trembling hand over his face and continued.

“My mother is ready to leave. I’m just waiting on when,” he murmured. “I’ve been helping her reconnect with her magic and it’s making her stronger, but it’s been hard when she’s so fucken terrified of it.” Iris squeezed his hand and he offered her a thin smile. “She’s been always scared to leave us but my brothers and I can handle the fallout now. We couldn’t before but we will now. We want her to get the fuck out of here. We’ve had enough and she’s most definitely had enough.”

“And you’re all…fine with her going to the Day Court?” Iris asked quietly.

“Yes. A part of me will always resent Helion the way I sometimes resent my mother for all these years of having to deal with this. Even if the fault ultimately always lies with my father.” Eris said tightly. “This could end very badly but once Helion claims her publicly as his mate, my father will have to let her go.”

“Will he, though?” Iris asked, unease creeping in her chest. “What if he invokes the Blood Duel?”

Iris felt the shift in his mood at her question and watched him carefully as he slid his hand from hers and stood. His shoulders tensed even further and all at once, Iris felt the room heat up once more and her stomach dropped as he ran both hands through his hair, his breathing turning shallow again.

“He won’t have a fucken choice. A mating bond trumps everything else.” he growled softly. “But if Beron invokes the blood duel, I can promise that it will only end in agony for him. I will do everything I can to ensure it, even if means handing Helion the spear to plant in his chest myself. I will do anything. Anything to have him gone and be rid of this misery. I just need him gone without trying to take my mother with him.”

“You said your mother wants the killing blow.” Iris said carefully and she saw his fists clench. “Will that…be possible?”

“She will be ready for it regardless, but we will have to see how the events unfold.” he said in a strained voice. “Helion has enough pent-up rage in him towards my father that I wouldn’t be surprised if he killed him with one well-aimed blow.”

Iris opened her mouth but Eris resumed pacing with another shake of his head and continued.

“Elain’s visions keep telling me that pieces are moving and all we can do is be prepared for whatever is coming next,” he said. “The problem is there are too many things out of my control. There are too many pieces on the fucken chess board and I am — I am going to lose my fucken mind if things keep piling up.”

Iris watched as he took another breath and fisted then flexed his hands. “You don’t have to handle all this alone.” she said and stood, watching the grimace he made at her words. “You can’t stay like this when you have people willing to help you.”

“The more people that help me, the more people get hurt.” Eris snapped and Iris frowned at his tone as he kept pacing. “I can’t — I can’t keep letting that happen.”

“Eris,” she chided gently. “You can’t stop —”

But Eris let out a snarl and Iris blinked to find him aflame once more.

“Don’t.” he said. “I can’t stop because the next person that he’ll hurt if I let one thing slip is you and that will bring hell upon us all.” His snarl shook the room and Iris felt herself tense. “Because if my father touches you. If he so much as looks at you wrong, I will kill him and probably get killed in the process and then everything we’ve been enduring for years will go up in flames from my stupidity.”

Iris’s face flushed. The anger and shame she had felt earlier had found its way again and the feeling seeped down her body as he stood across from her. “I’m not asking you to kill your father for me, Eris. I’m asking you to ease some of the things you’re carrying so you don’t keep doing this to yourself.” she snapped. “You’re lashing out at me right now while all I’m trying to do is understand what happened with you and find a way to help.”

Eris was breathing hard once more and she braced herself as he walked over to her, his body burning. His hand curled around the nape of her neck and he pulled her flush against him. “I know you’re trying to understand and I’m trying to help you understand how fucked up this all is and how much I have hated every single thing about myself and my life for the longest time. That I have always been a thing my father uses to punish everyone for everything because I can’t stomach him doing it to anyone else.” He took a breath as Iris placed a hand gently on his chest, blinking rapidly. “The only reason my father isn’t dead yet is because I need to make sure it’s a fight I can win. Because if I die, then everyone else is left dealing with him. My mother. My brothers. You.”

His grip tightened on her as he continued, his tone almost frantic. “I’m telling you all these things so you understand that I am fucked terrified of what comes next because things have changed for me and the stakes are even higher and now I am a thing that has someone to leave behind. Someone who will be brutally hurt just because you’re linked to me in a way no one else will ever be.” he said as his wild eyes locked on her wide ones. “I have laid down everything at your feet. All of my armor. Everything that I am and you want to know why? You asked me what changed earlier. What happened to me.”

“Eris, you need to breathe,” she said even as her heart rate went wild, a hand clenching his arm. “I want you to tell me but I need you to breathe.”

But Eris shook his head and before Iris could open her mouth to say anything else, his expression fell and the grip on the back of her neck tightened once more. “You.” his whisper broken and his eyes watched her wildly, wrapping her in his arm as his flame licked every inch of her. He held her to him tightly, as if afraid she would disappear and slip through his trembling fingers. “You. You. Tell me you see it. Tell me you fucken feel it.”

Iris stared at him. She stared and stared and stared and that feeling, that tug she had felt in her ribcage earlier, seemed to intensify. What he was saying — what he was insinuating. It had crossed her mind only briefly, for one hopeful moment earlier, and yet — here he was, saying — he was saying —

Something had been different since that kiss. Something had been different about him since the moment she met him.

“I — I felt you.” Iris found herself saying then swallowed. “When you were gone and took long. I don’t know how else to describe it but…I felt you.”

“You did?” he asked, nodding. “And what did it feel like?”

“A tug.” she said slowly. “Right in my ribcage. I feel it right now.”

Eris laughed a hollow laugh as he watched her beautiful face, her expression shifting as her mind processed what he was saying.

And Iris blinked. “I kissed you.”

“You did.”

“And everything — it felt so right.”

“You said things were always intense between us.” he said quickly. “That we couldn’t fight the pull we felt towards each other despite the way our relationship started.”

“Yes.”

“You kissed me.” he said almost desperately. “And every single thing in my life suddenly made sense. Every part of me made of stone suddenly became covered in you. Like ivy, wrapping its way around me whether I liked it or not. It was something I had never thought would be mine or something I deserved and yet somehow, this is happening. This is real.”

Iris felt her body start to tremble at his words, the feeling inside her chest unfurling as every moment they had shared together flashed through her mind. Nothing about their relationship had made sense and yet, the two of them seemed to have been destined to find each other. Everything about them, Eris and Iris, fit together like puzzle pieces they hadn’t known were missing. She hadn’t been able to stop him from planting roots within every part of her mind and body, long before she realized what was happening — even when she had wanted nothing to do with him.

He had always been hers and she, his.

Iris stared into his eyes, watching the hope mingle with the desperation he felt, and her hands slacked at her sides. She had spent her life adrift. Alone. She had spent her life barely mattering to anyone at all. Forgotten. And now, in a twist of fate, Iris had found something she hadn’t realized she was even worthy of.

Eris Vanserra had appeared in her life and what she had assumed would be a walk to the gallows, a nightmare like the one he had just returned from, was anything but. He was anything but.

He was her beginning, her middle, and would be her forever.

They had both been lost only to be found within one another, the red string of fate guiding their path.

“This is real.” she finally said and Eris nodded, his gaze never leaving hers.

“This is fucken real.” he said hoarsely. “This is very fucken real.”

Every glance. Every touch. Every moment that had angered her and made her laugh. Every moment that had made her feel. It had all been leading her here.

It had been leading her home.

Iris took a sharp breath and finally whispered the words, “You’re — you’re my mate.”

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x oc #eris vanserra fanfic #eris x iris #smtb #I hope you enjoy this and like my spin on plot things lol #forgive me for the wait #this year has not been the writing year for me.#I hope the tags work!

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