#lorcan imagine

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Send out an army to find you

request: can i please request a lorcan x reader where maeve kidnaps reader who is pregnant. She wants lorcans child because he left her service snd she wants someone sith his powers so she tries to keep reader until she gives birth but she is saved by him.

warnings: blood, implications of death, capture, pregnancy. The good stuff.

In other words your girl got carried away....

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Lorcan felt as if the ground had cracked beneath his feet. He fell as if he was freefalling as if he knew that the only fate that awaited him was painful death. He sensed the panic through the bond while he and the rest of the cadre had been training in the woods. The sheer amount of it had made Lorcan's knees buckle. And then he ran. He ran like he had never run before. Body moving on its own, fully trusting his instincts. He didn't care that the house might be crawling with whatever creatures had managed to get inside. The sight of the door barely hanging on its hinges was enough to make bile rise in his throat, yet he strode inside.

"Y/N", he called, going from room to room. There was broken glass everywhere, the chairs in the dining room were broken to pieces, and the utensil drawer was open. All Lorcan could smell was panic. Pain. Fear. His heart was beating so fast, he could feel it all over his body. "Y/N", he shrieked once more. He smelled you still. And that could mean two things: either he was just a heartbeat too late, or you were still here. He prayed for the second. But when Lorcan darted upstairs to see handprints of blood all over the nursery, everything around him froze for a second. The worst fears dance freely in his mind. He didn't even realize when he had started roaring. Or when all of the darkness possessed by him manifested. Drowning out all the light, making all the greenery wilt.

Lorcan felt firm hands holding onto him, trying to pick up the mess. "Let go of me", the male roared. But that wish wasn't granted to him as other sets of hands gripped his face. "I'm going to kill...", Lorcan stated. "Who will you kill? Who, Lorcan?", it was Gavriel who stood right in front of him. Paler than before. Worry laced his features as well. "You need to think", Fenrys added from the side of him, making Lorcan grit his teeth as he spat, "I'm thinking! She's gone, she's...and the baby, that's...", Lorcan felt another wave of panic rush through him. Fear when he realized that he couldn't hold onto the bond that connected you both.

"Breathe", it was Rowan, whose cold wind twirled around Lorcan now, the male trashed in the grip of his friends. "No, you don't...", Lorcan's voice broke. "Breath, Lorcan", Rowan said softly again. Lorcan knew that Rowan, of all the males, knew how painful this felt. He had lost his pregnant partner. They had all watched him fight the demons that clouded his will to live after that. Lorcan sank to his knees, ripping at his chest in hopes of feeling at least any sense of warmth from your side.

The cadre had never seen Lorcan like this. Sure, you had cracked the deepest parts of the male. You had made his presence a lot more bearable. Maker, he smiled even. Smiled from his heart during the family dinner. His prickly side was pushed aside almost fully. Saved only for scaring people away and inflicting panic on the enemy. You were his everything, and to miss that would have been impossible. Rowan clasped Lorcan's shoulders. Yet no one dared to say a single word about what this could truly mean.

You slowly drifted back to consciousness. Frowning slightly once the unfamiliar surroundings began to emerge. Your hand immediately went to your bump as you looked around the stone cell. The sound of the metal shackles made you look down; your hands and ankles were chained. You instantly tried to pull on your mating bond. To call for Lorcan... But a pained cry left your mouth as you found it lifeless. No, you thought to yourself, they wouldn't have managed to kill Lorcan.

"Oh, how lovely to see you awake", the voice dripped venom, and your wild eyes looked at the queen you hoped you'd never have to see again. "What did you do?", You moved to sit up slowly. "I just wanted to see you. You have someone I want", the way she whispered made your body shiver. "What did you do to Lorcan, Maeve", you hissed, hands wrapped around your bump. The motherly instinct was on high alert. The queen smirked, "He used to be my best. You do know what an attentive lover in bed Lorcan was to me". You shook your head. You knew how she treated them all. How she played with them. She twisted her powers to make puppets out of them. Lorcan had never loved her. He had never cared for her.

"It was so hard for me to do this to him", Maeve purred. The panic swirled within you. She wouldn't; you told yourself, she wouldn't have. "I'll make sure the wound of losing him will heal", her voice pierced right through you. "No," you breathed out, "He's not dead. You're lying, bitch". The sympathetic look on her face made you sick. "No, what did you do? What did you do?", you launched forward, chains ringing as you pulled at them. "Now, now... You can't be doing all that. You're pregnant", the queen stepped forward. Her cold hand moved to touch the round swell forming. You tried to move your hands so you could claw at her face, but her magic kept you at bay. "The babe growing within you is like no other, dear", she said, slowly sweeping your tangled hair away from your face. Silent tears that rolled down your cheeks were the only indication of your real emotions that bubbled within. "I'll raise a one-of-a-kind worrier out of that, babe", her nails dug into your face, "You took Lorcan away from me; now your debts will be paid." You tried to scream, but she seized your consciousness, sending you into the dark, oblivious.

Every moment that passed was a moment too long for Lorcan. A heartbeat was wasted. He still didn't know if you were alive. He hoped for it. You had to. Rowan had explained the power that Maeve had when it came to twisting bonds between mates. Maeve. To think that his beautiful, sweet, pregnant wife was in the hands of that sadist. Lorcan knew that you could stand your ground, but he knew that Maeve would not hold back.

He let Gavriel and Rowan plot the plan. His brain was everywhere at the moment. Lorcan clutched the baby blanket you had knitted in his hand. He had been holding onto it for the past two weeks. Only managing to slip into restless sleep if the scent of you was close. "Do you agree, Lorcan?", Gavriel's voice made Lorcan stiffen. But the lion knew that he wasn't listening. "Let us handle Maeve. I know that you want to kill her", Gavriel's voice was calm, but Lorcan let out a bitter laugh, "Want? Want doesn't even come close to it". The lion nodded. "I know, we know, but it's best if you find Y/N in the castle and get the hell away from it". As sweet as revenge tasted, Lorcan knew that this plan was the only one. Because even he didn't trust himself to not get carried away.

You had no way to tell how many days had passed. You had tried to refuse all food and water, but your baby needed it. And as much as you had no will to carry on, the little kicks and squirms within you were the only things making you feel anything other than the void that painted your chest black. You were curled into a ball at the furthest corner of the cell. Holding onto your bump as you hummed slightly.

You hoped the rest of the family would come looking for you. You hoped that this void was just one of many twisted things that Maeve loved. But at this moment, you knew that it was only you. Only you could protect your unborn child from that sadist. She had told you all about it. How the baby would be hers. How she would take it under her wing and raise it as if it was her baby. You gritted your teeth.

The cell door cracked open. You stilled, gripping the metal plate you had filed against the stones, turning it into a somewhat makeshift weapon. You doubted it would be enough to kill her. But you were prepared to try anything by now. You counted the steps, bracing yourself for the blow.

Your hit, however, was met by a strong grip. You were ready to swing one more time as the warmth flooded your heart. "Y/N", you had never loved the sound of your name more than now. Your eyes met the familiar dark orbs. A breath hitched in your throat. Lorcan was standing right in front of you. Your mate was standing right in front of you. You couldn't help but let out a cry.

Lorcan's strong arms wrapped around you instantly. He wasn't expecting to find you here. He was about to turn around when his ears caught on to that familiar heartbeat. Your baby's heartbeat. Steady and strong. And so he leaped down the stairs into the dungeon. Only to find you in this damp, forgotten place.

"Look at me, does anything hurt?", his voice was sharp and calculated. Lorcan looked over your face at the scab on your cheek, yet you shook your head. "She told me...", you muttered. "Listen to me. Is the baby okay? You're feeling okay?", he was close to shaking; you had been dead in his mind for weeks now. He had mentally prepared to find your lifeless body. "Lorcan...", you choked out, sinking into his arms.

"I've got you, dove. I'll take you home. I will never let anyone take you or our baby away from me", he wasn't sure at this point if he was saying this to soothe you or himself more. You barely nodded as Lorcan leaned to scoop you up into his arms. You heard him mutter something else, something about staying awake, but your body was too tired. Your mind was too fried from all the lies that Maeve had told you. So you let yourself drift away.

The crackling sound of the fire woke you up. The room was dim, but in a comfortable way. It was warm, and it smelled of freshly made food. You blinked a couple of times. Your gaze followed the pressure on your thigh. A messy set of black hair met you. Lorcan was holding your hand, his head resting on your thigh as he slept, his free palm resting on your round stomach. You doubted the position was comfortable, and his shoulders, without doubt, would kill him once he woke up.

You reached down to brush his hair away from his face. You smothered the lively bond in your chest. Soaking in the warmth of it. "You have no idea how nice it is to feel you through the bond", Lorcan's voice was groggy, his eyes still closed. You gave him a sad smile, "I'm afraid I do... She told me that she killed you", you muttered. Lorcan rose slowly. His face looked grim. There was a sign of anger still there.

"I'm going to take my time when I...", Lorcan growled but you quickly clasped his hand, "Lorcan... promise me you won't go after her alone", you pleaded. You could tell that he wanted to argue back but his shoulders slumped as he let out a sigh. "How are feeling? The healer looked you over but... You can...", he broke out into yet another rant, and you reached out to him, cupping his cheek, "I'm okay, we're okay. Happy to have daddy back with us", you muttered, feeling your eyes filling up with tears.

Lorcan leaned into your touch before he clasped your hand in his, kissing it a couple of times. "I would raise armies for you and fight gods if I had to", he said, and you knew he meant all of it as he leaned closer, pressing his forehead against yours. "And I will always find you, both of you. I'll look till my very last breath", Lorcan's voice was barely a whisper as tears rolled down his cheeks. "I know, my love, I'd fight for our family with bare hands if I had to", you muttered, leaning into your mate so you could kiss him lovingly.

[moonlitstoriess]

Oaths and Ashes-Lorcan x fem!reader (oneshot)

Summary: Bound by oaths to Maeve and haunted by the bond he fears, Lorcan clings to loyalty as a shield against his own heart. But when a mission goes awry, forcing him to choose between duty and his mate, the cracks in his resolve begin to show. In the shadows of betrayal and pain, will love rise from the ashes?

Warnings: Mentions of trauma, manipulation, physical injury, toxic loyalty, and themes of betrayal. Angst with no fluff and an uncertain end.

A/n: Got this random idea for a Lorcan fanfic and thought why not? Anyway you have been warned, enjoy 😘

See masterlist

The outpost was eerily quiet, save for the distant howl of the wind outside. The cold stone walls did little to keep the chill at bay, and the fire in the hearth burned low, its feeble warmth barely reaching the center of the room. She stood by the window, arms wrapped tightly around herself, watching the snow swirl and dance in the night.

Lorcan sat across the room, sharpening one of his blades with slow, deliberate movements. The metallic scrape echoed in the silence, grating and purposeful, as if he was daring her to speak first. He didn’t look at her.

“Another mission done,” she said, her voice low, breaking the stillness.

“Hm.” The sound was dismissive, his focus never wavering from the blade in his hands.

She turned, leaning against the windowsill, her arms dropping to her sides. “Is that all you have to say?”

His dark eyes flicked up briefly before returning to his task. “What else is there to say? We survived. That’s enough.”

The coldness in his tone cut deeper than she’d expected, and her jaw tightened. “You don’t think it’s worth talking about? The fact that it was another trap? That Maeve sent us into another gods-damned death mission?”

“You’re alive,” he said flatly. “That’s what matters.”

“Barely,” she snapped, taking a step toward him. “But I guess that doesn’t matter to you, does it? As long as we’re breathing, it’s fine. Just another day serving Maeve like the obedient dogs we are.”

His hand stilled, the blade catching the light as he set it down. When he looked up at her, his gaze was cold, calculating. “If you’re not cut out for this, maybe you shouldn’t have sworn the oath.”

The words landed like a blow, and she staggered back a step, her chest tightening. “You think I want this? You think I wanted to swear myself to her?”

“Did someone force you?” he asked, his voice sharp, mocking. “No? Then don’t complain about the choices you made.”

Her breath hitched, and she turned away, unable to look at him. The sting of his words mixed with the weight of her anger and exhaustion, threatening to choke her.

“I should’ve known,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

He stood abruptly, the scrape of the chair against the floor loud in the silence. “Don’t presume to know what I care about,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

“Then tell me,” she said, whirling to face him, her eyes blazing. “Tell me why you’re so gods-damned loyal to her. Why you follow her orders without question, even when you know it’s killing us. What is it, Lorcan? What keeps you chained to her like a dog?”

His jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” she shot back, stepping closer, her voice shaking with anger and something rawer. “Because I’m standing here, breaking myself for this—for you—and you won’t even look at me.”

He flinched at the accusation, but the mask of indifference remained firmly in place. “Don’t make this about me,” he said coldly. “You’re not here for me. You’re here because you swore the same oath I did.”

“And that’s all I am to you? Another oath? Another pawn in Maeve’s games?”

His silence was answer enough.

The room felt impossibly small, the air thick with unspoken words and frayed emotions. She took a shaky breath, forcing herself to speak even as her heart ached. “You can’t keep doing this, Lorcan. Pushing me away, shutting me out. It’s not going to make the bond disappear.”

His expression darkened, his lips pulling into a tight line. “The bond doesn’t matter,” he said harshly. “It doesn’t mean anything. Not to me.”

The words were a dagger to her chest, and she staggered back as if he’d physically struck her.

He saw the hurt flash across her face and immediately hated himself for it, but he didn’t take the words back. He couldn’t. Not when the truth was so much harder to face.

“Fine,” she said, her voice breaking. “If it doesn’t mean anything, then neither do I.”

Before he could respond, she turned and stormed out, the door slamming shut behind her.

Lorcan stood there, staring at the empty space she’d left behind, the weight of his words crashing down on him. He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms, but the pain was nothing compared to the ache spreading through his chest.

For the first time in centuries, he felt something dangerously close to regret.

But Lorcan was too stubborn to let go of his pride. She would understand at some point. That he is not meant to have a mate.

The bond, while recently discovered by the both of them, lay unacknowledged by either. Though he could see how much the female whom he has known for so long is trying to create something out of this.

But it would be useless. Lorcan knew it. He was not meant to have a mate. How could one ever have a mate after walking a lonely road for so long? Too much blood, too many sins on his hands.

Besides, he was too much of a monster to even know anything outside of pain, bloodshed, loss and anger. His shadows, his demons constantly consumed him and that was enough to draw him away from everyone. Including her.

—————

Y/n had loved him for as long as she could remember. Well, maybe not from the very start because the way they met wasn’t quite under the best conditions.

She was a rebel, part of a secret organization that went against those in power. She still remembers how one hundred and fifty years ago, she was captured by The Cadre and brought to Doranelle.

There, under Maeve’s orders she was questioned. Fenrys and Gavriel constantly tried going the diplomatic way and ease her into talking while Lorcan and Rowan would just vote to have her tortured.

Y/n smiled at the memory.

Though they all started at the wrong foot, eventually she grew closer with the males, even going as far as to prove her usefulness to Maeve and swearing a blood oath, a choice she has come to very much regret.

The boys see her as a part of them now. A younger sister and a very capable fighter with a unique power.

But Lorcan…..he has always been this way and not just towards her but to the others too. It just hurt a little more because she unfortunately grew to deeply care for him.

That is why, on one random day when both her and Lorcan found out about their bond was also the moment all her dreams with him came crashing down.

He said very hurtful things that day, how he would never accept it. How he will never even acknowledge it and neither should she.

Y/n tried, she really tried to get through to him but alas, everyone has a breaking point. And yesterday was the final straw for her.

How much longer is that prick going to choose Maeve over his mate? His fucking mate!!

How much longer is he going to follow every order of that poisonous queen and defend her in every argument?

It hurt….and she was tired. Tired of trying to get through to him. She has been doing that from the moment they met and now it was time to stop.

Y/n sighed as she cleared her mind, put on her stoic mask, straightened her shoulders and entered the sitting room of Doranelle’s Grand Stone Palace, designed specifically to fit the taste of her bitchy majesty, Queen Maeve.

Upon entrance however, she noticed that the queen is yet to arrive. Rowan, Fenrys and Gavriel were all scattered around the room, with the silver haired warrior standing next to the gigantic windows and watching the view over Doranelle and the latter two sitting on opposite armchairs.

Lorcan was nowhere to be seen but, she would not concern herself with the thoughts of him.

"Y/n! Finally you are here." Gavriel's voice brought her back as she looked to see all three of them looked straight at her.

Y/n offered a tight smile to Gavriel as she moved further into the room. Fenrys shot her a grin, his golden eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence. Let me guess, Lorcan was brooding too much, and you needed a break?”

Y/n snorted, pulling off her gloves and tossing them onto a side table. “More like I was brooding, and he needed a break.”

Rowan turned from the window, his piercing gaze scanning her face. His sharp instincts probably caught the flicker of tension in her shoulders, but he said nothing. Instead, he inclined his head. “How was the mission?”

She shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. “Standard Maeve nonsense. Get in, retrieve the target, fight off a few surprises along the way. Nothing we haven’t done a hundred times before.”

“Yet you look like you’ve been through hell,” Fenrys said, leaning forward in his chair. “What happened out there?”

Y/n hesitated, feeling their eyes on her. She knew they cared, but she couldn’t bring herself to explain the emotional storm that had brewed between her and Lorcan. “The usual,” she said finally. “Maeve’s intelligence wasn’t exactly accurate. There was an ambush.”

Gavriel frowned. “An ambush? Were you injured?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” she said quickly. “We managed.”

“You managed?” Fenrys repeated, a skeptical brow arching. “Sounds like there’s more to that story.”

“There isn’t,” Y/n said firmly, brushing past him and sinking into one of the chairs. “It’s over now. That’s all that matters.”

The males exchanged glances, their concern evident, but they didn’t press further. Instead, Fenrys leaned back with a dramatic sigh. “Well, next time, try not to steal all the excitement. We’ve been stuck here dealing with Maeve’s mood swings. Honestly, I’d take an ambush over her any day.”

Y/n allowed herself a small chuckle. “Careful, Fenrys. She might hear you.”

“Let her,” Fenrys said with a smirk. “I live to irritate her.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “You live to irritate everyone.”

“True,” Fenrys admitted, grinning. “But I do it so well.”

The light banter was a welcome distraction, and Y/n felt some of the tension in her chest ease. For a moment, it was almost enough to forget the weight of the bond, the mission, and Lorcan’s cold words. Almost.

The grand double doors swung open with a creak, and the room fell silent as Maeve swept in, her dark hair gleaming and her presence commanding as ever. Her sharp eyes scanned the room, lingering briefly on Y/n before flicking to the others.

“Good,” Maeve said, her voice like silk wrapped around steel. “You’re all here.”

Y/n straightened in her seat, instinctively falling into the poised composure Maeve demanded. But then her heart sank as another figure stepped into the room behind the queen.

Lorcan.

His towering presence was as dark and imposing as ever, but it was the way he stood at Maeve’s side, slightly behind her like a shadow, that made Y/n’s stomach churn. He looked as though he belonged there, loyal and unyielding, his gaze sweeping over the room without a flicker of acknowledgment in her direction.

Fenrys stiffened, his usual easygoing demeanor vanishing in an instant. Rowan’s jaw tightened, his expression unreadable. Gavriel was the only one who spoke, his voice calm but tense. “Maeve. Lorcan. What’s the occasion?”

Maeve’s smile was sharp, predatory. “A new directive,” she said, her gaze landing on Y/n. “But first, I’d like to hear about your little adventure.”

Y/n clenched her fists, forcing herself to meet Maeve’s piercing gaze. “The mission was completed successfully,” she said evenly. “We retrieved the artifact and neutralized the threats.”

Maeve’s smile didn’t falter, but her eyes glittered with something that made Y/n’s skin crawl. “Good. I expected no less.”

Lorcan said nothing, his face carved from stone, but his silence was louder than any words. It echoed in the room, in her chest, as Maeve began to speak of their next orders, her voice a cold melody weaving a new web of commands. Y/n barely heard her, her focus splintered by the man standing silently by the queen’s side, the mate who had once again chosen duty over her.

“And you,” Maeve said, her voice honeyed and venomous all at once. “I have a special task for you.”

Y/n’s spine straightened, her expression unreadable, her mask firmly in place. “Of course, my queen.”

Maeve tilted her head, a mockery of affection flickering in her eyes. “I’ve decided to send you on a mission of utmost importance. Alone.”

The room tensed. Fenrys shifted in his seat, his golden eyes flicking to Y/n with concern. Gavriel’s brows furrowed, his mouth opening as if to protest, but one glance from Maeve silenced him. Even Rowan, stoic as ever, allowed his jaw to tighten, his fingers flexing where they rested at his side.

She was never sent on a mission alone. It was always with one of the members because 1. Maeve, no matter how much she pretended, never trusted y/n and 2. The males would always manage to protest against her going alone, though it is not something she hasn't done before.

Y/n didn’t flinch. She didn’t allow even the faintest crack in her calm facade. “What would you have me do?”

Maeve’s smile widened, pleased with her composure. “There is a rebel camp in the northern cliffs. They’ve been meddling in my affairs, intercepting important supplies. I want you to dismantle them—destroy their operation entirely.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Rowan finally broke it, his voice carefully measured. “The northern cliffs are treacherous, especially this time of year.”

“Which is precisely why I’m entrusting this to her,” Maeve said smoothly, her gaze never leaving y/n. “She has proven herself capable time and time again. Haven’t you?”

Y/n inclined her head. “I’ll see it done.”

A flicker of something unreadable crossed Lorcan’s face, but he stayed silent, his broad shoulders stiff. Fenrys leaned forward, his hands gripping the armrests of his chair. “With all due respect, this is suicide. Send at least one of us with her.”

Maeve’s expression hardened, her voice cutting like a blade. “Did I ask for your opinion, Fenrys?”

He clenched his jaw, leaning back in his chair but shooting y/n a glance filled with unspoken worry. Gavriel tried next, his tone more diplomatic. “She is capable, yes, but even the most skilled warriors can be overwhelmed. Perhaps a small team would ensure success.”

Maeve’s gaze snapped to him, her smile razor-sharp. “Are you questioning my decision, lion?”

“No, my queen,” Gavriel said softly, bowing his head.

Maeve turned back to y/n, her tone almost sweet again. “I trust you will not fail me.”

“I won’t,” y/n said evenly, ignoring the tension radiating from every male in the room.

“Good,” Maeve said, stepping closer, her presence suffocating. “You leave at dawn.”

Without another word, Maeve swept out of the room, her dark gown trailing behind her like the shadow of death itself. And Lorcan behind her.

As the door closed, the room erupted.

But even through all the worries, all the scoldings, all the words said by the three males, her brothers, y/n's mind was only filled with the sense of betrayal.

He didn't even protest. Didn't even stand against Maeve. Didn't even offer to join y/n. His mate.

This has to be some cruel joke fate is playing on her.

----------

Y/n was alone, methodically packing her gear. Her hands worked quickly, though her mind was a maelstrom. She refused to dwell on the danger of the mission, on the implications of Maeve sending her alone. This was just another test, another way to prove she could survive whatever hell was thrown her way.

A knock sounded at her door. She didn’t bother turning, knowing who it was. “What do you want, Lorcan?”

The door opened without her invitation, and he stepped inside, shutting it firmly behind him. He didn’t speak at first, his dark eyes scanning her as if trying to decipher her thoughts. Finally, he said, “You shouldn’t go.”

She didn’t stop packing. “Not your decision to make.”

“It’s reckless,” he snapped, his voice low and sharp. “Maeve’s playing games, and you’re letting her.”

Y/n spun to face him, her eyes blazing. “Letting her? Did you not hear me back there? She gave me an order, Lorcan. What would you have me do, defy her?”

His silence was damning.

“Exactly,” she said bitterly, turning back to her pack. “You’d rather I die proving myself than risk questioning her.”

“That’s not fair,” he said, his voice softening, but she rounded on him.

“Fair?” she hissed, her voice shaking with anger. “What part of this is fair, Lorcan? The bond? This gods-damned oath? Maeve holding our lives in her hands? I don’t see you fighting for anything better.”

“I’m not the one running into death for her approval,” he shot back, his tone colder now, defensive.

“No,” she said quietly, the words cutting deeper because they were true. “You’re just the one standing by while she destroys us.”

He flinched as if struck, but she didn’t stop. “You chose her again, Lorcan. You always choose her.”

His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists. “She is my queen.”

“And I’m your mate!” she yelled, the words tumbling out before she could stop them, raw and exposed. “Or does that mean nothing to you?”

For a moment, he didn’t speak. His dark eyes burned with emotion, but when he finally spoke, his voice was icy. “It doesn’t change anything. And we are not mates."

She swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over her like a physical blow. “You really are a coward, Lorcan.”

Before he could respond, she shoved past him, her pack slung over her shoulder, and walked out the door. She didn’t look back, even when she thought she heard him whisper her name.

When she reached the stables, she mounted her horse and rode into the night, the frigid wind biting at her skin. But the cold was nothing compared to the ache in her chest, the one that reminded her she was truly, irrevocably alone.

The northern cliffs were as treacherous as y/n had anticipated. The jagged terrain, biting winds, and freezing temperatures made every step a trial. Her days were spent navigating narrow paths carved into the mountainside, her sharp eyes scanning for signs of movement. At night, she set up meager camps, always alert for threats, her weapons and magic ready for use. Sleep came in fleeting moments, her instincts honed to the dangers lurking in the shadows.

It had been five days since she left the fortress. Five days of cold, isolation, and silence. She told herself that she didn’t mind the solitude—it was better than the suffocating weight of Lorcan’s words or the betrayal she’d felt when Maeve’s command echoed through the room.

Still, the mission felt… off. She’d found no sign of the rebel camp Maeve had described. The cliffside paths, though rugged, showed no indication of regular travel, and the forests below were eerily still. It was as if the cliffs themselves were abandoned, yet Maeve had insisted that rebels were causing disruption in the area.

“She sent me here for a reason,” y/n thought bitterly, though she wasn’t sure if it was to succeed or fail.

On the sixth day, y/n stumbled upon a narrow gorge that seemed to fit the description of a potential rebel hideout. The entrance was obscured by thick overgrowth, and the cliffs loomed high above, casting long shadows over the path. She hesitated, her instincts prickling. This was the first sign of anything remotely suspicious since she’d arrived.

Cautiously, she advanced, her sword unsheathed as her senses sharpened instinctively. The air was heavy, thick with the scent of damp earth and something metallic. Blood.

She moved swiftly, keeping to the edges of the path. It led to a clearing—a small encampment, or what was left of one. The ground was littered with debris, tents torn apart, supplies scattered as if a storm had swept through. But it wasn’t a storm. The claw marks gouged into the rock told her that something—or someone—had done this.

Kneeling, she examined a broken weapon—a sword, its blade snapped in half. Blood stained the hilt, fresh enough that it hadn’t dried entirely. Her pulse quickened. She was being watched.

The sound of a snapping twig behind her made her whirl, sword raised, ready to strike—but nothing was there.

Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes boring into her from the shadows. She forced herself to stay calm, to think. If this was a rebel camp, they wouldn’t leave it undefended. If they were gone, where had they gone? And why did the destruction look staged?

Her heart sank as realization dawned. This wasn’t a rebel camp. This was a trap.

The first arrow whistled past her ear, embedding itself into the rock behind her. She ducked instinctively, rolling into a crouch as more arrows followed, peppering the ground where she’d stood. Her claws gleamed in the dim light as she shot forward, seeking cover behind a crumbled tent.

Voices echoed through the gorge—low, guttural commands that sent chills down her spine. She couldn’t see them yet, but they were closing in.

Y/n moved quickly, her breaths steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She darted from cover to cover, her sword slicing through any obstacle in her way. The first attacker emerged—a tall man clad in dark leathers, his face obscured by a hood. He lunged at her with a blade, but she sidestepped, her dark magic aimed right at his chest. He fell with a gurgled cry.

Another came from the right, and she barely dodged the strike aimed at her side. She spun, driving her small but sharp knife into his arm and kicking him backward. But for every one she took down, two more appeared.

Soon, she was surrounded.

Y/n fought like the rebel she was, every movement precise and lethal. She used the terrain to her advantage, leaping onto rocks and darting through narrow paths. 

But there were too many.

An arrow grazed her leg, the sharp pain momentarily throwing her off balance. A sword nicked her arm, blood staining her sleeve. Her breaths came heavier now, her strength waning.

One of the attackers—a burly man with a scar down his face—stepped forward, a cruel grin spreading across his features. “The Queen sends her regards,” he sneered, raising his blade.

Y/n’s heart sank. Maeve had sent her here to die.

The realization stole the last of her resolve. She faltered, just for a second, but it was enough.

The scarred man’s fist connected with her stomach, and she doubled over, the air knocked from her lungs. Before she could recover, another blow landed against her temple, sending her sprawling to the ground.

Her vision blurred, and the world tilted as she tried to push herself up. Hands grabbed her, wrenching her arms behind her back. She struggled, but she was too weak, too drained.

A final strike—a boot slamming into her ribs—left her gasping for air. The edges of her vision darkened, her body refusing to obey her commands.

As she was dragged to her knees, she heard the scarred man chuckle. “Tie her up. The Queen wants her alive—at least for now.”

Y/n’s head lolled to the side, her strength gone. The world around her faded into darkness, the sounds of her captors’ laughter echoing in her ears.

Her last thought before unconsciousness claimed her was bitter and raw.

She sent me here to die, and I have no one left to fight for.

---------

The first week of her absence, Lorcan told himself he was being irrational. She was skilled, ruthless even, and capable of handling herself. Maeve had sent her on this mission for a reason, and despite his misgivings, he trusted y/n to see it through. He buried his worry beneath grueling training sessions and the cold edge of duty, convincing himself that she would return victorious, her sharp wit ready to cut him down the moment he dared to question her ability.

By the second week, unease began to fester. There had been no word from her—no missives sent, no whispers of success or failure. Maeve brushed off his inquiries with a dismissive wave, her cold smile tightening when he pressed. “She’s completing her task, Lorcan. You wouldn’t dare doubt her, would you?”

The third week unraveled him. He had spent every waking moment pacing the grounds, his chest constricting with an unbearable weight. Nightmares plagued him when he did manage to sleep, visions of her broken body haunting his mind. He snapped at everyone—Gavriel, Fenrys, even Rowan—driving wedges into bonds already frayed by his aloofness.

Now, a full month had passed, and there was no room left for denial.

“She’s dead,” Fenrys growled, pacing the chamber like a caged wolf. “Or worse.” His golden eyes were wild, his usually jovial demeanor replaced with simmering fury. “We all know Maeve doesn’t send anyone on a mission like this without an ulterior motive.”

Gavriel sat at the table, his head bowed, his fists clenched. “We don’t know that,” he muttered, though his tone betrayed the hope he was struggling to hold onto.

Rowan leaned against the far wall, his sharp features carved with tension. “Have you noticed Maeve hasn’t mentioned her once since she left? Not a word about the mission or her progress. That’s deliberate.”

Lorcan stood apart from them, his back to the room, staring out the window at the moonlit forest. His jaw was clenched so tightly it ached, and his nails had bitten into his palms, drawing blood.

“She’s alive,” he said at last, his voice low and trembling with suppressed rage.

Fenrys stopped pacing, glaring at him. “You don’t know that. You have no idea what she’s endured out there—alone—while you stood by and let her go.”

The accusation struck like a blade, and Lorcan whirled around, his black eyes blazing. “You think I don’t know that?” he snarled. “You think I don’t feel it every second of every gods-damned day?”

The room fell silent, the air heavy with tension.

“What are you saying?” Gavriel asked, his voice cautious.

Lorcan’s hands trembled as he raked them through his hair, his composure shattering. “She’s my mate,” he admitted, the words spilling out like poison. “She’s my mate, and I let her go. I chose Maeve over her because I was too much of a coward to—” His voice broke, and he turned away, his shoulders heaving.

The silence that followed was deafening.

“You’re telling us this now?” Rowan’s voice was cold, laced with anger. “After she’s been missing for a month?”

“I thought she’d come back,” Lorcan said hoarsely. “I thought she’d be fine. She’s strong. She’s—” His voice cracked, and he slammed a fist against the wall. “I failed her. I failed her because I didn’t want to admit what she meant to me.”

Fenrys sneered, his rage barely contained. “And now she’s out there, suffering gods know what, because of you.”

Despite their anger, the Cadre couldn’t abandon her. She was one of their own—or at least, she had been before Maeve’s manipulations twisted their loyalties.

Rowan took charge, his strategic mind cutting through the chaos. “We’ll have to do this without Maeve finding out. If she even suspects we’re undermining her, she’ll punish us all.”

“And y/n,” Gavriel added grimly.

Lorcan barely heard them, his mind consumed with images of her—alone, wounded, dying. He couldn’t let himself think she might already be dead. If she was gone, the bond would have snapped, wouldn’t it? But it hadn’t. It was still there, faint but unbroken, like a fragile thread connecting him to her.

“We’ll start at the cliffs,” Rowan continued. “That’s where she was sent. If Maeve wanted her gone, she wouldn’t make it easy to find her body—or what’s left of it.”

Fenrys shot Lorcan a glare. “You’d better hope she’s alive, or I’ll make you wish you’d died with her.”

The journey to the cliffs was brutal, the terrain unforgiving. They traveled under the cover of night, avoiding Maeve’s spies and using every ounce of their combined skill to remain undetected.

They did not rest. Not even once. And even if they did, Lorcan knew that he would leave his brothers behind to find her. He would not rest until he found her. Hopefully, alive because if not....

Lorcan did not want to think about that and the hell he would raise if that were the case.

When they reached the cliffs, the sight that greeted them confirmed their worst fears. Blood stained the ground, long since dried, and the remnants of a camp lay scattered, eerily quiet.

“She was here,” Gavriel said, his voice tight with anguish.

Lorcan knelt, his fingers brushing the bloodied earth. It felt wrong—cold and empty, as if the life had been drained from the place. His chest tightened, and the bond tugged at him, faint but insistent.

“She’s close,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “She’s still alive.”

The Cadre exchanged wary glances, but they followed him deeper into the gorge, their weapons drawn.

They found her at dawn.

She was chained to a rock in a dark cavern, her body battered and broken. Her clothes were torn, her skin marred with bruises and cuts, and her breathing was shallow. Her once-bright eyes were closed, her face pale and gaunt.

Lorcan froze, his heart shattering at the sight.

“She’s alive,” Fenrys said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lorcan didn’t wait. He rushed to her side, his hands trembling as he broke the chains binding her. “y/n,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Please, wildling, wake up.”

Her eyelids fluttered, and for a moment, her gaze met his. There was no recognition in her eyes, only pain and exhaustion.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

As he cradled her broken body in his arms, the weight of his guilt crashed down on him. He had failed her in every way possible, but he wouldn’t fail her again.

“Let’s get her out of here,” Rowan said, his voice tight. “Before Maeve realizes what we’ve done.”

Lorcan nodded, his jaw set with determination. He would burn the world for her, tear it apart piece by piece if he had to.

And when Maeve found out, he would be ready.

Lorcan cradled y/n against his chest as they made their way out of the cavern, her body limp and fragile in his arms. Her shallow breathing was the only reassurance he had that she was still alive. His every instinct screamed at him to run, to put as much distance as possible between them and this gods-forsaken place, but he knew better. They weren’t safe yet.

The bond tugged at him, a faint but insistent reminder of her fragility. It was his lifeline now, urging him forward through the oppressive darkness of the cliffs.

Rowan took point, his sharp gaze scanning the shadows ahead. Gavriel brought up the rear, his sword drawn and his senses on high alert. Fenrys prowled beside Lorcan, his golden eyes flashing with barely-contained fury.

“She’s too quiet,” Fenrys muttered, his voice low and tense. “We need to move faster.”

“She’s breathing,” Lorcan snapped, though his voice wavered. “That’s all that matters right now.”

The moment they stepped out of the cavern into the pale light of dawn, the attack came.

A hail of arrows rained down from the cliffs above, forcing them to scatter. Lorcan twisted his body, shielding y/n with his own as he dove behind a jagged boulder.

“Move!” Rowan barked, his wind magic deflecting the arrows with a gust that sent them clattering harmlessly to the ground.

The enemy poured down the rocky slopes—Maeve’s minions, cloaked in shadow and armed to the teeth. Their feral grins gleamed in the dim light, their eyes alight with cruel intent.

“They know we have her!” Fenrys shouted, drawing his twin blades.

Gavriel let out a low growl, his lion-like strength cutting through the first wave of attackers. “We’ll have to fight our way out!”

Lorcan’s grip on y/n tightened as he pressed his back against the boulder, his mind racing. He couldn’t fight—not with her in his arms—but he also couldn’t let her go.

Rowan appeared at his side, his ice-blue eyes blazing. “Can you hold them off while I take her?”

“No,” Lorcan snapped. The thought of letting her out of his grasp was unbearable. “You clear the path. I’ll carry her.”

Rowan hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. “Stay close.”

Chaos erupted as the cadre launched themselves into the fray. Rowan’s wind and ice magic tore through the ranks of their attackers, sending bodies flying into the jagged rocks. Fenrys moved like a shadow, his blades flashing as he cut down anyone who got too close. Gavriel fought with brutal precision, his strikes swift and lethal.

But their enemies kept coming, waves of them spilling out of the cliffs like a swarm.

Lorcan’s every step was a battle. He ducked and weaved through the melee, his muscles burning from the effort of carrying y/n’s dead weight while avoiding strikes. His sword remained sheathed—his focus was entirely on her.

“Lorcan, behind you!” Fenrys shouted.

Lorcan twisted just in time to see a dagger aimed at his back. He snarled, releasing a pulse of his power that sent the attacker sprawling. The effort cost him, though—his legs trembled as he stumbled forward, the weight of y/n and his exhaustion dragging him down.

A group of Maeve’s soldiers broke through Rowan’s defenses, their eyes locked on Lorcan and y/n.

“Over my dead body,” Lorcan growled, shifting her weight slightly as he braced himself for the charge.

But before they could reach him, a silver blur streaked past—Fenrys. He leapt into the fray, his movements a deadly dance as he tore through the soldiers with savage efficiency.

“You’re slowing us down,” Fenrys barked as he dispatched the last of them.

“Shut up and fight,” Lorcan snarled back.

Rowan’s sharp whistle cut through the chaos. “Now! Move!”

The cadre regrouped, their enemies momentarily scattered. Rowan’s magic formed a protective barrier of ice and wind, giving them a few precious seconds to retreat.

“We’re not going to hold them off forever,” Gavriel warned as they sprinted toward the treeline.

“We just need to make it far enough to lose them,” Rowan said, though his tone was grim.

Lorcan’s chest burned with every breath, but he didn’t stop. Y/n’s head lolled against his shoulder, her face pale and bloodied. Hold on, he willed her silently. Just hold on.

As they reached the forest, Rowan dropped the barrier, and the group plunged into the shadows of the trees. The dense undergrowth slowed their pursuers, giving the cadre a chance to put some distance between them.

“We need to split up,” Rowan said. “Fenrys, take Gavriel and lead them away. Lorcan and I will take y/n and head for the rendezvous point.”

Fenrys opened his mouth to argue, but a single look from Rowan silenced him.

“Go,” Rowan ordered.

With a growl, Fenrys and Gavriel peeled off, drawing the enemy’s attention.

The silence that followed was deafening. Only the sound of Lorcan’s ragged breathing and the faint rustle of leaves broke the stillness as he and Rowan made their way deeper into the forest.

When they finally stopped, Lorcan sank to his knees, cradling y/n as though she might disappear if he let go.

“She’s alive,” Rowan said, though his voice was heavy with doubt. “But barely.”

Lorcan couldn’t respond. His hands trembled as he brushed a strand of blood-matted hair from her face. Guilt and rage warred within him, threatening to consume him whole.

“We’ll get her back,” Rowan said, his voice firm. “But you need to keep it together.”

Lorcan’s jaw tightened as he looked up at Rowan. “If she dies…” His voice broke, and he couldn’t finish the sentence.

“She won’t,” Rowan said, his eyes fierce. “Not if we have anything to say about it.”

Lorcan nodded, swallowing hard as he forced himself to his feet. He wouldn’t let her die. Not like this. Not when he had failed her so utterly.

And Maeve… Maeve would pay for this.

------

The first thing Y/N registered was the scent of wood smoke and herbs, mingling with the faint, earthy aroma of rain-soaked soil. The air was warm, almost stifling, and it felt heavier than it should have. Her body ached with a dull, persistent throb, as though she had been wrung out and left to dry.

She blinked against the dim light filtering through a small, cracked window, her vision swimming before settling on the modest, cramped interior of a hut. The walls were made of rough-hewn logs, the roof thatched, and a single table sat in the corner, cluttered with vials and bandages.

Where am I?

The thought was fleeting, overridden by a sudden awareness of weight—solid, grounding, and entirely foreign—pressing against her. She shifted slightly, hissing at the pull of her tender muscles, and turned her head to look down.

Her breath caught.

Lorcan.

His head was resting on her stomach, his dark hair falling in unruly strands over his face. His massive frame was hunched over, as though even in sleep, he couldn’t quite relax. One arm was draped over her waist, the other gripping the edge of the makeshift bed she lay on. His hold was tight, almost desperate, as if he feared she would vanish if he let go.

For a moment—a fleeting, fragile moment—something in her chest softened. He looked so unlike himself, so vulnerable and human, and it was a stark contrast to the cold, stoic warrior she knew.

But then it all came rushing back.

The mission. The ambush. The betrayal. His cruel words.

Her face hardened, and a sharp burst of anger surged through her. How dare he?

Without thinking, she raised her hand and swatted the back of his head.

Lorcan jolted awake instantly, his head snapping up as his body went rigid, his instincts kicking in. His hand reached for a weapon that wasn’t there, his eyes wild and dark, scanning for danger.

Then his gaze landed on her, and he froze.

“Y/N?” His voice was a hoarse whisper, raw with disbelief.

Her eyes, dull and tired, met his. “Surprised to see me alive?” she asked, her tone cutting but drained of its usual bite.

Relief flooded his features, followed quickly by a maelstrom of emotions she couldn’t decipher—shock, guilt, anger at himself, and something she wasn’t ready to name.

“You’re awake,” he murmured, as though saying it aloud would make it real.

“No thanks to you,” she muttered, shifting uncomfortably as she tried to sit up.

“Don’t,” he said quickly, his hands moving to steady her. “You’re not ready—”

“I’m fine,” she snapped, shrugging him off.

She wasn’t fine. Her body screamed in protest, and her head swam, but she forced herself upright, ignoring the way his hands hovered near her, ready to catch her if she faltered.

“Where are we?” she asked, her voice clipped.

Lorcan cleared his throat, straightening as he rubbed the back of his neck. “A healer’s hut. A friend of Fenrys’—a trusted one. It’s safe here, for now.”

“For now,” she repeated bitterly. Her gaze swept the room, noting its sparse furnishings and the faint smell of damp wood.

“You’ve been unconscious for two weeks,” Lorcan continued cautiously, as if afraid of her reaction. “We’ve been... waiting for you to wake up.”

“Two weeks,” she echoed, her tone flat. “And where are the others?”

“Rowan and Gavriel went back to ensure Maeve hasn’t caught on to our escape, or atleast somehow keep the situation stable.” he explained. “Fenrys stayed with us.”

“Of course, Fenrys did.” She exhaled sharply, leaning back against the headboard.

Lorcan flinched at her tone but didn’t argue. “I—”

“You what?” she interrupted, her eyes narrowing. “What could you possibly have to say, Lorcan?”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he might retreat behind his usual walls. But then he surprised her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low and rough. “For everything.”

She didn’t respond immediately. She didn’t have the energy to yell or argue, not anymore. She just looked at him, her expression unreadable.

“You said Maeve was your queen,” she said quietly, her voice devoid of emotion. “You said you’d always choose her over me. So why are you here, Lorcan?”

He flinched as if she’d struck him. “I was wrong,” he said, his voice breaking. “I was so gods-damned wrong. And I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness—hells, I don’t even deserve to be here. But I—” He hesitated, his hands curling into fists. “I couldn’t lose you. Not like that.”

Her laugh was hollow, devoid of humor. “Congratulations, Lorcan. You didn’t lose me. But what’s left of me isn’t much, so I hope you’re satisfied.”

Her words hit him like a blow, and the guilt in his eyes deepened. “Don’t say that,” he whispered.

“Why not?” she asked, her voice rising slightly. “It’s true. I’m tired, Lorcan. I’m tired of fighting, tired of trying, tired of—” She broke off, her hands trembling as she clenched the blanket.

Lorcan dropped to his knees beside the bed, his hands hovering near hers but not quite touching. “I know I hurt you,” he said, his voice trembling. “I know I failed you. And I’ll never forgive myself for that. But please, y/n... please don’t give up. Not now. Not when you’re here, alive.”

She looked away, her jaw tight, her expression unreadable.

“I’ll fix this,” he said desperately. “I don’t know how, but I’ll fix it. I’ll keep you safe. I swear it on my life.”

“Words,” she muttered, her tone laced with exhaustion. “They’re just words, Lorcan.”

He bowed his head, his shoulders sagging under the weight of her dismissal. But he didn’t leave. He stayed there, on his knees, as though the very act of being near her was penance.

And for a long moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was heavy, oppressive, and filled with everything they couldn’t bring themselves to say.

Eventually, she lay back down, turning her face away from him. “I wish to be alone.”

He nodded, his throat working as he forced himself to his feet. “I’ll be right here,” he said softly, retreating to his chair.

She didn’t respond, and as her breathing evened out, Lorcan watched her, his heart breaking anew. He had been a fool, and now the woman who held his soul was a shadow of herself. Someone who just went through so much trauma while he sat aside and watched it happen.

His y/n was gone, the female in front of him was an empty shell.

And it was all his fault.

———————————————————————

[imsandra]

A Little Interruption

Pairing: Lorcan Salvaterre x Female Reader

Summary: Even the shadows know how to find the light of day.

Warning: Fluff

Word Count: 1239

Notes: I hope you enjoy this story by Lorcan. As always, let me know your comments, suggestions, everything is welcome as long as it is with the motivation to teach and with respect.

English is not my native language, so I apologize for any spelling or grammar issues.

Original story, I wrote it myself. Please do not copy or plagiarize my story.

I appreciate the comments, reblogs, and likes I receive.

Happy reading!

Master list

The cool breeze and afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows of Orynth's castle.

The grand hall was filled with serious conversations, military strategies, and tactical discussions.

Aelin sat at the end of the long wooden table, with her characteristic regal bearing. Next to her, Rowan remained silent, as always, vigilant and attentive. Gavriel, Aedion, Fenrys, and other members of the queen’s inner circle were in their designated seats at the table, discussing details of recent missions and alternate routes for upcoming journeys. The atmosphere was comfortable, almost familiar, despite the seriousness of the topic.

Lorcan remained in his usual spot, arms crossed, his expression tense as always. He was focused on the conversation until he heard a light knock at the door. He barely paid attention at first, thinking it was a servant. But when the door opened slightly, and a small head peeked in, he knew his peace had come to an end.

With light steps, his small daughter, with dark hair and bright eyes, entered the room, holding a little cookie in her hands. Her blue dress swayed around her as she ran towards Lorcan, completely oblivious to the seriousness of the environment.

“Daddy,” she said with her little voice, drawing the attention of everyone present, “I brought you a cookie.”

Lorcan sighed, but his expression softened the moment his eyes met his daughter’s. He stretched out his hand and took the cookie she offered with a shy smile.

“Thank you, little one,” he murmured, whispering something only she could hear, as he patted her head.

“Aww, how cute!” Fenrys teased, never missing the chance to enjoy the spectacle.

Aedion smirked, exchanging an amused glance with Rowan. Aelin, sitting across the table, hid a smile behind her fingers.

“Daddy’s busy now, sweetheart,” Lorcan said gently. “Go to your mom, alright?”

Rosella nodded eagerly and, with a giggle, left the room again. It wasn’t long before the door opened once more, and the same little figure ran towards Lorcan again. This time, she held a slightly battered flower that she had plucked from one of the gardens.

“Daddy, this is for you.”

Lorcan blinked, and this time, a murmur of laughter rippled through the table. Fenrys couldn’t contain a chuckle.

“A flower? Well, Lorcan, it seems you’ve won over the ladies,” he said with a mocking grin.

Aelin let out a giggle, and Rowan gave her a knowing look. Lorcan, with his usual limited patience, carefully took the flower and placed it on the table.

“Thank you, honey,” he said, almost resigned. “But I need you to go to your mom now.”

Once again, the little girl left, but not five minutes passed before the door opened again, this time without even a knock. The little one burst in, a wide smile on her face and a folded handkerchief in her hands.

“Daddy, I found this. Is it yours?”

Lorcan dropped his head back, visibly testing his patience while the others struggled to contain their laughter. This time, even Gavriel, usually the most serious, couldn’t help but smile at the child’s persistence.

“Daddy, it’s your handkerchief,” she said, as if it were the most important thing in the world.

Lorcan took the handkerchief and tucked it into his cloak, while the little one stood firmly beside him, not moving.

“Thank you, my girl,” he said softly, before trying again: “Now, go to your mom.”

Before the little one could leave, the door opened once more. This time, it was Y/N who appeared at the doorway, a playful smile on her face.

“Am I interrupting something important?” she asked, her voice soft but clearly amused as she looked at Lorcan with a glint in her eyes. “It seems someone can’t be away from their father for long.”

The girl ran towards her mother, but before reaching her, she spun on her heels and ran back to hug Lorcan’s legs.

“I don’t want to go!” she said firmly, clinging to her father as if her life depended on it.

Aelin, completely amused by the situation, decided to seize the moment.

“Oh no, let her stay,” she said, grinning mischievously. “It’s adorable to see Lorcan’s softer side, isn’t it, boys?”

Fenrys burst out laughing.

“I never thought I’d see the day Lorcan Salvaterre would be tamed by a five-year-old girl,” Fenrys shot Lorcan a mocking grin. “You’re completely done for, brother.”

Lorcan shot a murderous glare at Fenrys, though it was hard to intimidate anyone when a small child was clinging to his legs, insisting on staying with her “daddy.”

“If you keep talking, Fenrys,” Lorcan said in a low, threatening voice, “you’re going to wish you hadn’t when I’m done with you on the training field.”

Fenrys leaned back, feigning fear as the others laughed.

“And here I thought I’d seen everything,” Aedion added, leaning against the table as he looked at the little girl. “Maybe we should take her to the next battle. She clearly has power over you that none of us have.”

Y/N smiled as she watched the scene, crossing her arms with a satisfied expression. She knew Lorcan would never admit how much he had changed since their daughter came into their lives. He was still the relentless warrior everyone knew, but with them, with his family, he had found a kind of peace that no bloodiest battle could ever offer.

Rose, ignoring the buzz around her, leaned against her father’s knee and, with a sweetness that would melt the hardest heart, bent to kiss his cheek. Lorcan remained still for a moment, completely bewildered, while a slight blush crossed his face. The others could barely contain their amusement.

“Now,” the little one whispered, snuggling into Lorcan’s neck, and with a deep sigh, let exhaustion take over.

Lorcan glanced sideways at her, completely unable to stay impassive. As gently as possible, he shifted his daughter in his arms, settling her against his chest. The little girl sank against him, her breathing slow and calm, and Lorcan let out a soft sigh, resigned to the situation.

The momentary silence was broken by Fenrys, who leaned forward with a mischievous smile on his face.

“If I weren’t seeing it, I’d never believe it,” he muttered, while the others exchanged amused glances.

Lorcan didn’t respond. His attention was entirely focused on the small figure asleep in his arms, his demeanor now relaxed, with a softness he almost never showed. He leaned down, pressing his lips to his daughter’s forehead in a delicate kiss.

“Looks like you’re no longer the scariest person in the room, Lorcan,” Rowan teased, though his voice also held a note of admiration.

Lorcan simply rolled his eyes and threw a quick glance at her, who had now moved closer to him. She smiled, gently touching their daughter’s arm before leaning down to kiss Lorcan’s forehead.

“I think that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen,” Y/N whispered.

He returned her look, a glint of affection in his eyes.

“Don’t get used to it,” he replied, though the slight smile on his face betrayed his words.

With the little Rosella soundly asleep on his chest and Y/N’s warm presence by his side, Lorcan let the rest of the meeting continue around him, though he couldn’t help but notice the knowing glances everyone was casting his way.

For the first time in his life, perhaps, he didn’t mind.

*divider by @cafekitsune , thank you <33

A/N: I had baby fever these past few weeks so I made Lorcan a dad, I hope you enjoyed it. It's probably not necessary for a 5 year old to speak extremely well or maybe it is, I rarely hang out with kids so I'm not sure lol

I love you guys 💛.

tags: @sidthedollface2 Sorry it took me so long and I hope you enjoyed it, kisses 😚.

[utterlyotterlyx]

A Ballad of Storm and Shadow

Azriel x F!Reader

Part Six

Series Summary - Rhys had been content in taking the darkest secret of his family to the grave, but when the threat of Hybern increases, he has no choice but to send a message to another world and pray to the Mother that his call is answered.

Warnings - mentions of pain, mentions of death, mentions of torture, angstttt, sadness, fluff

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

This is a crossover series, some aspects will differ from that in the books. Physical attributes are described in this fic, it is essential to the storyline of the character

It had taken 17 hours for y/n to stir.

17 hours of Azriel sat at her bedside hating himself for allowing her to venture from the cabin alone and picturing himself grabbing her hand at the last second to stop her from leaving him.

17 hours of verbal beatings which would have been physical if it weren’t for his refusal to leave her side.

Aelin was furious, her wildfire blazing as blue as her eyes across each one of her limbs.

Rowan hadn’t spoken a single word, but his eyes didn’t leave Azriel for one moment, and he hadn’t unclenched his fists from the moment he had stepped foot into Prythian and scented the direness of the situation at hand.

Lorcan and Aedion also refused to move from the room, being her bloodsworn they had a duty to protect and serve her, and they felt as if they had failed in a sense.

Then there was Manon, the gold eyed witch queen with talons so sharp that they had drawn blood from Azriel’s arms when they coiled around him and demanded to know what had happened with a voice so venomous that he was sure she would drink his blood if she could.

In short, everyone despised him, and even Rhys was reluctant to offer a safe hand to his brother. Azriel understood, Rhys had only just gotten his sister back, and was feeling like a failure in his own way for sending her in the first place. Rhys was so ashamed of his request that he had allowed Aelin to preside over y/n’s care with Yrene, as well as the scouting missions she had ordered Rowan and Manon to embark upon to ensure that no attack would befall the city whilst y/n was injured and vulnerable.

The last 17 hours hadn’t been kind to y/n. Black poison poured from the bandages secured around her chest and abdomen, which meant that Yrene had to change them more often, and a fever so damning had taken over her body, causing the Queen of the Erilean Fae to sweat and shake uncontrollably whilst her body fought an internal war to win back her life. It was horrible to watch, and it all could have been avoided if Azriel had been there, flying below her and ensuring no one could pick them out of the skies, or if Rhys hadn’t sent them to begin with.

Azriel could picture it. A fond and vivid image of y/n flying above him. The rain would cause her raven black hair to stick to her skin, but it was the thin wisps of baby hair that stuck to her forehead that made the faintest of smiles to appear on Azriel's lips. Y/N seemed so unbothered up there, so... at home. Much like he found solace in the shadows, she found songs in the storms. A peace that could never be tainted.

That's what he willed himself to see when he looked upon her pallid, fever-stricken face. He willed himself to see the version of her that she would have wished. One where she was happy. One where she was plagued by serenity.

None of them could pinpoint how Hybern had known that y/n was in Prythian, or how they knew that she even existed in order to create the only poison that could be used to weaken and fatally harm her. Even Yrene had uttered that the ingredients were sparse even within Erilea. It meant that someone had spent valuable time collecting and crafting in order to inflict the pain onto y/n. Azriel swore to himself that whoever it was would die for it in the most curdling manner his mind could fathom.

It was within the thirty second minute that she stirred, her kaleidoscope orbs appearing beneath her fluttering lids and a small groan of torturous pain emitting from her lips. Azriel moved from the chair beside her to the mattress in a matter of seconds, disturbing the peace by shouting into the void for Lorcan and Aedion to call for Yrene, and the healer came quickly at their demands barrelling down the halls.

Yrene was closely followed by Aelin and Manon, the latter of which growled once she spied Azriel’s marred flesh tainting the purity of her queen. The red cloak of Manon swept against the stone beneath her feet, her claws were retracted but her teeth were poised to rip the throat out of anyone who got too close, Azriel included. Not wasting a moment, Yrene crossed the room whilst fastening her apron at her back, reaching out to lay her hand on y/n’s forehead and stealing it back with a hiss and the scent of burning flesh. “How are you holding her?” Yrene asked, perplexed, holding her burnt hand to her chest.

To Azriel, y/n felt hot, but not searing, not burning. From the beads of sweat that teared down her pallid cheeks, he knew that she was struggling to fight off the poison and the infection that came with it.

The Shadowsinger didn’t answer.

Instead, he kept his hazel eyes upon her face, tracing the slow beat of her eyelids and the quaking of her gasping lips as she attempted to form a word. “Y/N,” Azriel cooed gently, causing y/n to stop trembling for a moment, “To me,” he told her, pulling her darting eyes from the ceiling and to his face, “You need to save your energy and rest. Close your eyes and sleep. Let Yrene heal you.”

It wasn’t as much as a command as it was a plead, but she listened, shakily nodding her head and shivering into slumber, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

He felt the golden eyes of the witch queen on the side of his face, Manon couldn’t understand how y/n hadn’t noticed her at her side, she couldn’t understand how y/n’s eyes found Azriel instantly over her own. Azriel moved his gaze to meet those orbs of gold and speckled black, refusing the back down even if he did find her terrifying. “She needs Doranelle,” Manon spoke, not to Azriel despite him being in her eye line, but to Aelin who stood behind her, and to Rowan who was propped against the doorway.

“We’re stuck here,” Aelin reminded her, making it clear that she had already thought the same but knew it was impossible without y/n’s power to rip open the fabric of space and time to take them there. Aelin dropped to her knees beside y/n, the fire coursing through y/n’s veins battling against her own, and she ran her fingers down the side of her face, worry clear and fear prominent. “This King,” Aelin spat, “Knows what he has done. Your war will be coming sooner than you think, and he’ll seek to destroy her along with it.”

“I won’t let him,” Azriel growled, tone low and threatening, and eyes peeking through the thickness of his lashes whilst his hand kept entwined with y/n’s like he was her link back to the land of the living.

Aelin honed in on Azriel, drinking in the dark possessiveness in his eyes and the way his shadows flitted over the skin of her dearest friend, almost as if they were trying to shield her from the world.

It wasn’t like Aelin truly blamed the Shadowsinger for what happened to y/n, she knew first hand just how difficult she could be when it came to anything she felt determined to do. In all honesty, Aelin blamed Rhys the most and had told him plenty of times of the fact. Y/N was Rhys’ sister, he knew how important she was to other worlds let alone his own, and he willingly put her in danger. Such motions threatened the survival of Prythian, and by extension, Erilea.

The feelings of Aelin were probably why Rhys had stayed away, waiting for the rest of them to leave for the evening before spending the night at her side, reading and telling her stories of their father and sister to then only leave at the break of dawn when Lorcan and Aedion would arrive. Azriel was the only one who stayed every minute of every hour, refusing to be anywhere else, out of guilt or desperation Aelin would never truly know, but part of her was thankful for it.

Do you see it?

Aelin craned her head over her shoulder to find Rowan’s orbs fixated on the pallid body of his friend and former princess, a woman he had spent centuries protecting and training. His sight pulled from her to Aelin and he nodded, eyes flickering to Azriel who had turned all of his attention back to y/n.

Yes.

The yawning of Aedion who was sprawled across a chair in the far corner halted Aelin from probing Rowan further. The unimpressed guise of the chamber fell upon him, “Tired, Cousin?”

Aedion shrugged, motioning to Lorcan with a wave of his hand, “She’s funnelling our energy through the bond. Forgive us for feeling a little lethargic, Aelin.”

“What do you mean? She’s funnelling your energy?” Azriel asked, brows furrowed and trying to grasp the meaning in his mind.

Sighing, Aelin explained, “Y/N is incredibly powerful,” she smiled upon y/n sadly, “There are aspects of her power that she refuses to use, abilities of the darkness that she inherited from her mother, Maeve. She can absorb strength from those sworn to her and from those who offer their power to her,” Aelin nodded toward Aedion and Lorcan with her eyes softening, “Y/N is absorbing the strength and energy from Aedion and Lorcan, they are her bloodsworn, and her body is in such a bad way that it seems the dark spots of her power are grasping onto anything they can to keep her alive.”

“It’s happened before?”

Aelin smiled thinly, trying to offer some comfort to Azriel who was beginning to understand the pain inflicted upon the woman before his eyes, but before Aelin could reply, Manon’s voice echoed between them. “Once. She was in a much worse state after she destroyed Maeve, her power was drained for the first time in her life, and she was severely injured from what Maeve did before the battle. All of that put her into a state of comatosis. It took her weeks to wake.” From the heaviness of Manon’s recount, Azriel knew just how close they were, all of them, so he understood why they blamed him, hated him.

“I’m sorry that I let her leave the cabin. I’m sorry,” Azriel spoke, staring right into Manon and trying to decipher whatever emotion lay within those cold golden orbs.

Rising to his feet, Aedion crossed the room, nudging a lingering Rowan on the way, “It’s fine. Y/N is a stubborn thing, she’s pulled the wool over all of our eyes at some point.”

“Like when she sacrificed herself to secure my freedom?” Aelin asked with a smile, leaning to run her fingers along y/n’s arm.

“Or when she trailed the ilken following Elide and I and slaughtered them all without us even realising it?” Lorcan huffed with amusement, creeping closer to the bed with humour in his eyes and his arms firmly folded over his chest.

“Then there’s Skull’s Bay,” Rowan almost sang, the words being the first noise he had made since he had arrived in Velaris and the room hummed in fond remembrance.

“And we won’t ever forget how she took possession of that burst dam and swallowed Maeve along with it. She saved us all that day, even when she was barely alive,” Manon spoke softly, a speckle of humanity shining through her soul shrouded in stone, “She’s family,” was all the witch queen said, an olive branch of sorts, an explanation as to why she had been so difficult.

Noting the concern in Azriel’s eyes, Aelin lay a hand upon his shoulder, gentle but unyielding, “She’s survived worse, Shadowsinger. Don’t underestimate her, you won’t survive the humiliation.”

Silenced followed after that, well, silence for Azriel at least. Whilst he traced the contours of her face, the rest of the room spent some time reminiscing, talking fondly of Erilea which Azriel somewhat listened to but didn’t engage with. All he could really wonder was what place could be so worthy of someone so perfect, and part of him wanted to walk the streets of Doranelle for a moment so that he would be able to understand it.

Only when Yrene would periodically swim by would Azriel lift his eyes to give her a thankful smile that she would return with an unspoken warmth. It seemed as though y/n had a family of her own, just like he did, a family not of blood, but of unbroken bonds and unyielding wrathful friendship. They’d all die for one another, it was something Azriel could resonate with.

After an hour, the doors to the chamber opened and Feyre stepped in, fumbling with her fingers and eyes floating through the room until they landed on Azriel and Y/N, and she found her heart fluttering at the way he looked at her, it reminding her of how Rhys’ gaze embedded itself into her at all times.

The expectant void of words caused Feyre to float back into the room, “Rhys would like a meeting. We should discuss next steps in this war and in y/n’s recovery. Yrene can stay with her, it won’t take long.” Aelin rolled her eyes but stood, muttering something about a false king under her breath which caused Rowan to chortle a laugh as they passed by Feyre. “You too, Az.”

“I’ll take care of her,” Yrene told him softly once she realised the reluctance in his eyes and the way his fingers curled tighter around her hand, “If anything happens, I’ll call for you. I promise.”

Stiffly nodding, Azriel stood from his seat that was imprinted with his frame, he pressed his lips tenderly to the pallid and slightly bruised knuckles of y/n before laying her hand softly upon the mattress and following after Feyre, stealing one last look at the fussing Yrene as her glowing hands floated over y/n’s torso yet again.

Azriel trailed behind the group, lingering at the side of his High Lady as they all sauntered through the halls of the House of Wind. Whilst pacing through the fortress, Azriel couldn't help but allow his gaze to float between each one of the other-worldly beings. Beginning with Aelin and tracking how her arm slid around Rowan's waist, to Rowan who placed a tender kiss upon her brow, to Aedion and Lorcan who were bustling shoulder to shoulder, clearly being too large for the width of the halls, and then there was Manon, red cloak swaying at her back and moon-white hair braided over her shoulder whilst her eyes darted past every doorway like she could see beyond them.

Yes, Azriel was very sure of y/n's safety being almost a guarantee.

With all of his watching and observing, he didn't notice the eyes of Feyre drifting over his face with a quirked smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, "You don't leave her side. Why?" Feyre asked quietly, catching how his eyes thinned slightly as he searched his mind for an answer that would appease her.

"I feel guilty," he tried to say, but the heaviness of his voice betrayed his words.

Feyre gently slipped her arm around his, resting her fingers on the indent of his elbow and pulling him into her side softly. "No. I don't think that's why," she gave him a pointed look, one loaded with knowing, "You feel something for her, despite only knowing her for a few days. What draws you to her?"

A more adequate question would be what didn't draw Azriel to y/n?

"I wasn't sure at first. If you had asked me why I couldn't concentrate at the High Lord's Meeting then I would have told you the truth. It was because of her. Not because she was new, or because I thought she was a threat..." Azriel trailed off, his voice softening and shoulders falling lax, like all tension had floated away, "It was because looking at her made me feel like I was finally home. There is a warmth within her, and a darkness that mirrors my own. She is fierce and tortured, but gentle in ways no one would ever be able to begin to understand. Y/N has spent her life fighting, being used for what she can offer but not being appreciated for who she is, and I think that I understand that."

"So, you seek to protect her?"

"No," Azriel sighed, looking to Feyre with a sparkle in his eyes that she'd never though she would ever get to witness, "Well, yes. But I seek to give her a life free of torment. A life of love and one void of the restraints of her station. I seek to be her freedom, Feyre."

The High Lady of the Night Court found herself blushing from sheer excitement. Feyre had noticed it the moment y/n had waltzed into their lives, limbs exposed and hair flowing, eyes glowing with the light of a thousand storms; she had seen something spark, a cog falling into place after so long tumbling around without purpose.

"Does it help that she is the most beautiful thing to walk the universe?"

Azriel scoffed, "Her beauty is incomparable to what lies beneath it," he told Feyre, glancing sidelong with a smirk, "But I suppose she isn't half bad to look at."

Feyre tried to conceal her chuckle behind her hand as they both entered the dining room that Rhys had converted into a meeting room for the sake of convenience.

It was clear that sleep had escaped him, and what was even more pristine was the fact that Aelin could not have cared less about it as she took her place at the head of the table, further solidifying her position as leader of their little merged group. Rhys didn't contest, instead he simply moved to the opposing end, motioning for Azriel and Feyre to take a place either side of him.

A usually convivial dining table now swimming with discontent from two sides.

Aelin assumed her usual position. Legs propped against the tabletop. Arms folded over her chest. Dagger gleaming in the pale lights and reflecting upon the ceiling. A warning. A dare.

"Have you figured it out yet?" Aelin's head curled to meet Rhys' sight, "Have you figured out how this world knew of her and the only thing that can weaken her?"

Silence consumed the room like thick onyx poison, drowning and dimming all forms of barely there happiness. Rhys shuffled in his seat. He had to send himself on such a mission since he knew that Azriel refused to leave his sisters side, and he had come up empty handed.

The location of y/n's downfall had been left void of any traces of armies and magic, the only sign of this incident occurring being the blood soaked earth where Rhys had stood for an hour cursing himself for even thinking about sending her away when he had only just gotten her back.

If he could, he would go back and rip the order from his mouth. He'd carve out his own tongue to keep her hidden.

"No," Rhys spoke roughly with a throat that hadn't been quenched by water in what felt to him like days. "I assure you that such knowledge has never reached Prythian. I sent word to Helion and Thesan, enquiring if such a poison were in any of their libraries. There isn't."

Lorcan scoffed and glanced to Rowan who had his lip curled upward into a snarl from his place beside Aelin, "And you believe them?"

Sprinkles of magic littered the air, casting a faint shimmer that filled the spaces of the open arched windows whilst the faint sound of laughter from the mouths of little ones echoed upward to the House of Wind.

"I do," Rhys gulped. The High Lord of the Night Court ran a hand down his face that was soaked with exhaustion. "Helion and Thesan aren't only High Lords of Prythian. They are friends of the Night Court, and their lives have been dedicated to research and healing. They would never withhold such information."

"Forgive me for not believing a word of it," Aelin muttered, fingers tracing along the hilt of the dagger on the table. "Your enemy knew that she would come. He knew she would come looking for him, and he knew exactly how to ensure her death. If it weren't for that last burst of power that brought Aedion and Lorcan to her position, she'd be gone." Aelin leant forward in her seat, feet falling flat against the ground and venom laced in her words.

"You foolish man. Sending not only your long lost sister but our queen into the belly of a beast without being able to ensure her safety. Your world isn't the only one at stake here. If she cannot recover from this then your world will perish, and our world will have lost its fiercest warrior."

Manon chuckled, pulling the attention of the room to her, and Cassian who was placed beside her leant away from the talons she was running the pads of her fingers down lazily. "In other words, if she dies here, we'll ensure that you do too. Or well, I will," Manon flashed her iron teeth at Rhys, causing Feyre to shift uncomfortably in her seat as her fingers became entwined in his own, allowing her power to ebb and flow from her essence in response to Manon's threat.

Remembering his position, Azriel's eyes manoeuvred over Manon, then Aedion and Lorcan whose fists were clenched but possessed tired eyes, before landing on Aelin and Rowan who were struggling to contain themselves. Tendrils of shadow scattered over his shoulders, dancing wildly in a brisk wind from an opened door, sauntering up and down and shaking in rhythm with a silent, reverberating thumping that was grasping at and rattling his bones.

"I think it would be wise to refrain from talking to my brother like that," the room collectively snapped its gaze to the doorway, and Aelin rose to her feet instantly.

Before them all stood a pale but healing y/n. She was grasping at her side but walked forward with a pride Aelin had never seen before, not in someone who was hours ago so close to the grave. There was something dark about her, the power itself or the contrast of her hair and eyes against her whitened skin Aelin wasn't sure. But what was clear was that she knew something, the truth and ire dancing in the dimness of her eyes. Something that could change the course of all of their fates.

Y/N's silver skirt kissed the ground as she stopped at Rhys' side, laying her hand atop his shoulder and squeezing it weakly, "I can understand being protective," y/n moved her eyes around the room, slowly raking over each one of her Erilean family, "But don't be mistaken into believing that threatening my blood is big or wise. I decided to take to those skies alone. It is my doing and mine alone."

Azriel felt his heart stop when her eyes finally found him, and he stood instantly, offering his arm and seat and feeling a sense of completeness when she accepted his touch and found comfort in the sensation of his presence behind her.

"Y/N-"

"I'm not finished," a voice of dread and death cut through the plea that fell from Aedion's lips, a voice of a ruler, a voice of one of the most deadly beings the universe would ever know. Inhaling deeply, y/n closed her eyes for a moment, as though she was preparing herself for something, and in sensing her discomfort and hesitation, Azriel lay his hand at the top of her spine, allowing every emotion and ounce of pain to wash through his veins.

Y/N visibly relaxed.

"In my sleep, the attack played in my mind over and over again, not like a nightmare, but in a way to make me see the truth. To push me to see beyond the pain," her eyes were downcast, but she moved backward into Azriel's hand, feeling a blanket of certainty and warmth coiling around her frame. "When I was flying over their camp, I felt the power of the cauldron. It was a drowning feeling, it made me feel confused almost, and I felt a certain type of dread. I was scared."

Y/N's eyes dragged down the table, settling on Rowan with eyebrows tight and fear visible within her irises. "There has only ever been one form of power that has ever made me feel like that. Maybe I was too wrapped up in what was happening to realise it."

"What are you saying, y/n?" Rowan urged, knuckles turning pale from his grip around the arms of his chair.

Without thinking about it, y/n's fingers faintly traced over the scar that had held Azriel's attention in the cabin. A morbid reminder.

"Dorian and I had a theory. That souls from our world didn't pass on into the afterlife but rather fell through the plains separating Erilea from other worlds. It had only ever really been a theory, but it was something that we couldn't stop thinking about. It haunted us in a way."

Because they had both lost a parent.

"But being here now with a poison in my veins so putrid and complex that no one from this world could have ever known of it. I realise what is happening." Aelin leaned forward, gaze flickering over the face of her friend until their eyes met. "There is only one person who knows how to make it. Only one person who would find joy in seeing me dead. Only one person who would seek to ensure the upmost pain. Only one person whose power terrifies me."

Aelin's eyes blew wide. "No," she spoke a hush above a whisper, "It can't be. She's dead. You killed her."

"What's going on?" Rhys entwined his fingers with those of his sister, feeling her fear bristling against the walls of her mind like a battering ram, splintering and wrecking the cage of her consciousness.

Realisation was floating about the room, to all those bar the Inner Circle. Rowan's head hung low, his eyes closed and nostrils flaring with each inhale and exhale, and Aedion couldn't lift his eyes from the tabletop.

"Maeve is here. My mother has come to punish me by devouring your world. Only when you're all dead will she kill me, and then can she conquer Erilea for the final time. Who knows, she might even keep me alive long enough to watch Doranelle and Terrasen burn." Y/N turned to Rhys, bottom lip almost wobbling, "I'm sorry. This is happening because of what I did."

Rhys dropped to his knees before her, taking her burning face in his hands and stroking his thumbs along her cheekbones. "We'll face it. We'll face her. And may the Mother grant her some mercy when I get my hands on her." He read the depleting light in her eyes, knowing that whatever energy she had been granted was wavering. "Let's get you back to bed. We can face this tomorrow. We still have time."

The High Lord of the Night Court went to hook an arm beneath his sisters arms, but she wrenched herself away to the side, still under the touch of Azriel, and looked upward to him. It was a silent plead, the widened watering eyes and a gentle shrug that lifted her shoulders.

Azriel moved instantly, scooping y/n into his arms and hugging her tightly into his chest, propping his chin on the crown of her head as he wordlessly carried her away.

Author's Note

I know it's been ages and I'M SO SORRY

Taglist

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[throneofsapphics]

the arrangement 

Rowan/Lorcan/Fenrys x Reader

Summary: “You’ll take what I give you.” with Rowan, Lorcan, and Fenrys  

Warnings: degradation, hint of a size kink?, light d/s dynamics, foursome, small description of blood, Rowan’s biting kink of course, cockwarming, oral (m!receiving), brief m/m, slight objectification 

A/N: this is filth, that’s it. for this

Fenrys sat in an armchair across the room, his predatory gaze fixed on you. 

Rowan’s canine’s were grazing against your neck, tongue flicking over your pulse point. 

Lorcan’s hands covered your ribcage, his body firm behind you, his massive frame covering you enough your shadow didn’t reflect on the wall. 

“You’ll take what I give you,” his lips grazed your ear, “won’t you love?” 

“What we give you,” Fenrys corrected. 

“You’re not giving me anything right now,” you teased him. 

Lorcan roughly pinched your nipples between two fingers, whimpers falling from your lips, the mixture of pain and pleasure felt directly in your core, now starting to throb - nearly begging to be filled. 

“Fuck,” you breathed. Lorcan’s hand covered your mouth, forcing you to breathe through your nose, just as Rowan bit down on your shoulder, tongue running along the two small wounds, pinpoint of plain and pleasure. 

“You’ll be good and quiet, won’t you?” Rowan said as he withdrew, your blood staining his bottom lip, his tongue darting out to clean the drops, laughing at your muffled assent. 

“Get over here,” he called to Fenrys without looking at him. The other male snorted, but you saw him rise. 

Lorcan’s hand moved and you took in a deep breath, he still held you steady but Rowan had cleared the path - for Fenrys to head right to you. The newest addition to the arrangement you all enjoyed. You nearly stumbled as Lorcan finally released you, Fenrys’s arms steadying you, twisting you so your back faced him - so you faced the other two males. 

“Go on,” Rowan snapped - not at you. Fenrys’s edged laugh echoed in your ear as his fingers began undoing the laces of your dress with ease. Slowly, so damn slowly - to irritate the others, you figured, he lowered the fabric, revealing your bare skin inch by inch. 

“Beautiful,” he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck. 

“She’s not a delicate flower,” Lorcan snorted. “She’s a little slut, isn’t she?” he asked Rowan, completely ignoring you. Your cheeks reddened but arousal grew at the way they spoke of you. 

“The perfect little toy,” Rowan agreed. 

“Are you a good little toy?” Fenrys whispered. A whimper left your parted lips, your head fell back, resting against his chest. He chuckled, dropping the rest of the fabric, one hand trailing down the valley of your breasts pressing against your stomach to draw you closer to him. His touch was light, gentle even, but just as electric as the others. 

He bent one knee, drawing your thigh over it - baring you to them. Showing you off like a good little toy. Two fingers parted your folds, revealing the arousal dripping from you, already coating your inner thighs. 

“I think I want a taste,” he murmured. 

“Take it,” the two words were filled with your desperation, “please,” you added as an afterthought. It wasn’t the taste you wanted, but hearing him clean your arousal from his fingers was almost as good. 

-

Fenrys had his back to the headboards, your core gripping his cock, hands holding you in place, not letting you move although you desperately wanted to. Instead, you were watching the show in front of you. Lorcan said you’d take what they’d give you tonight, and apparently that was pure torture, watching, waiting, teasing, but nothing to send you into the oblivion of pleasure you desperately craved.  

Lorcan was on his knees, Rowan’s hands gripping his hair, but you who had the other at their mercy. Just as you were finally enthralled, as you knew Rowan was about to launch past that edge, Fenrys lifted you off him. 

You whimpered at the emptiness, but he was already turning you around, pushing you back to rest on your knees between his thighs, eyes drawn to your arousal covering his cock. Your tongue darted out to lick your bottom lip, eager to taste the two of you mixed together. 

“Go on,” you’d missed Rowan sneaking up behind you, but his hand already gripped your hair. “Tap twice if it’s too much,” he reminded you softly - the only softness you’d get tonight - before shoving you down, mouth opening to take Fenrys, to wrap your lips around him, sucking on his tip, tongue circling around him. 

Rowan snorted behind you. “You can do better than that.��� 

A rough hand slapped your ass, Lorcan - Gods you needed to work on your awareness, launching you forward, taking Fenrys further, further, until he hit the back of your throat. 

Practice kept your gag reflex from activating, letting you take him as far as you could. Not very far with this angle. Rowan sensed it, what you wanted, arms looping under your shoulders, dragging you so your head hung off the side of the bed. 

“Take it or I will,” you heard Lorcan. 

[thehighladywrites]

Throne of glass characters x reader, sending them lingerie pics

summary: you send them pics of your new lingerie

warnings: suggestiveness, mdni

amara’s note: this is my first throne of glass related post, i’m gonna start making more I hope

for my wife: @rowaelinsdaughter 💗

[shadowdaddies]

My heads empty except for thoughts of Lorcan with a size kink, if you could please right somthing with this,🙏🙏🙏🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

yep I think it's canon our 7 ft tall axe-slingin' Lorcan has size kink👀

So Lorcan Did

Lorcan x Reader smut

warnings: smut below the cut, this is just pwp, size kink, oral f!receiving, p in v sex, maybe breeding kink if you squint

You fumbled for the doorknob, twisting it open as you stumbled backwards through the doorway into your room. Lorcan spun you around, your body pressed tightly between his and the door. You craned your neck - the extent to which you had to bend just to look him in the eyes almost painful - as his massive form towered over you. 

Large hands wrapped around the backs of your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as Lorcan pinned you against the wall. It was dizzying, being lifted so high, his hard body enveloping yours as he gripped your hair, tilting your head back to grant himself access to mark your neck. 

You gasped, small moans escaping you while you writhed against his firm grip as he held you in place. “Fuck, Lorcan, please touch me,” you begged, your dress suddenly like fire against your skin, begging to be extinguished. He pulled back, black eyes taking in your flushed state. 

With a dark chuckle, Lorcan tossed you onto the bed as though you were light as a pillow. The mattress was huge, as though you were swimming in a vast sea - until Lorcan stripped off his shirt and crawled over you. His massive form swallowed the space, suddenly making the bed feel so small as his body well more than covered yours. 

Propped up on your elbows, you watched as Lorcan toyed with the hem of your dress, looking up to see him watching you with a smirk. “Let’s take this off, love,” he murmured - you eagerly shifting to help him remove any layers separating the two of you. He took in the sight of your bare breasts, a slight groan escaping him as one hand moved to toy with your nipple, his palm covering your breast and more as he tweaked the sensitive nub.

Gasping, you arched into his touch as you babbled unintelligible requests for more. Switching hands, Lorcan toyed with your other nipple as he brought his mouth down to soothe the bud he’d been teasing. You moaned instinctively, hands moving down to thread in Lorcan’s long black hair. 

He pulled away, warm breath fanning over your wet chest as he smirked, tsk’ing as he shook his head. “Hands to yourself until I say otherwise, love,” he whispered, easily grabbing both of your hands in one of his as he pinned them above your head. “Keep those there,” he mumbled against your skin as he continued his path down your stomach.

Lorcan settled above the fabric of your panties, inhaling the strong scent of your arousal as his hand splayed just above the line of fabric that spanned your hips. Your legs clenched as you felt his hand cover your entire stomach, a lewd moan escaping your lips as you looked down, sight confirming what you felt. Lorcan was so much larger than any male you had been with - or even known, for that matter, and you were burning with anticipation.

Slowly dragging your silky panties down your legs, Lorcan paused to admire the wetness that had pooled on the fabric, dark eyes watching you as he licked away the juices. You mewled, toes curling at the sight as you shamelessly begged for Lorcan to move faster. “Oh love, this is as fast as I can go. You’ll need plenty of time to warm up and be stretched out before you can take me.” 

With that, Lorcan moved to lick your clit, sucking on the bud as he inserted one finger into you. “Fuck, Lorcan,” you moaned, his one finger making you feel so full already. You started to stress, unsure if you would be able to take him. As if he sensed your nerves, Lorcan pressed a kiss to each of your hips. “It’s okay, love. If you feel any pain, just tell me and we’ll stop.” 

You nodded, feeling assured as you encouraged him to continue. Lorcan worked you a little bit longer, curling that one finger against your walls in a way that drew obscene sounds from your dripping pussy. He licked your clit furiously, distracting you as he added another finger. The stretch was glorious, back bowing off the mattress as your mind reeled, already reaching your high. “Let it go, love,” Lorcan spoke against your clit, the vibrations setting you off into an explosive orgasm. 

You hadn’t even caught your breath when you felt Lorcan add a third finger, using the fresh wetness from your orgasm to pump into you more easily. The slight burn as he worked you added to your pleasure, tossing your head back and forth on the mattress as you clumsily pushed his head away from your swollen clit. Lorcan chuckled at your movements, pressing a kiss to the bud before removing his fingers, licking them clean as he untied his pants with his other hand. 

Your heart pounded as you dared to look at his hard cock, slapping against his stomach as he carefully watched your expression. “One word. If you’re uncomfortable, we stop,” he promised. You nodded, biting your lip as your legs hooked around his waist, drawing him closer to you. Sliding his cock up and down your folds, Lorcan collected as much lubrication as he could before sliding slowly into you. 

By the time he bottomed out, you were struggling to breathe - you had never felt so full. Your pussy clenched around him in reaction, and Lorcan hissed at the feeling. “Fuck, angel, if you keep doing that, I won’t last long.” Inwardly, you thought that might be for the best, as you weren’t sure how long you could take him. With a nod of encouragement from you, Lorcan began moving in and out at a gentle pace. He looked down at your body, a loud moan escaping his lips as he watched his thrusts. 

You managed to sit up just enough to see the outline of his cock as he entered you - how incredibly full of him you were. You let out a string of curses as Lorcan picked up his pace, his hand sprawled along the place on your stomach it had been earlier, this time forcing you to feel everything. “Gods, you’re so tight,” Lorcan whispered, watching your center tighten around him as his thrusts became more frenzied. 

Lorcan licked his thumb, bringing it down to your clit as he rubbed circles, the stimulation sending you over the edge just as you felt his cock twitch inside you, warm release coating your walls as you came together. Lorcan drew out of you slowly, catching his cum before it spilled onto the sheets and shoving it back inside your core. “Clench that tight pussy for me, love. Don’t let this spill.” 

You moaned a half-conscious agreement, still in a post-orgasmic haze as Lorcan settled next to you in bed. He pulled your body close to his, and you realized he had officially ruined all other males for you.

[erisvansserra]

Bruised Pride | Fenrys x Reader

Summary:- Fenrys tries to show off during training but Rowan uses his peacocking to put him on his ass. Then an embarrassed Fenrys has to be mended by Y/N

A/N:- this was a request!! yay me!! I really liked this idea and thought it would be cute to see Fen not as smug and cocky as usual.

Warnings:- none, some small fluff though

She leaned against the warm cobblestone fence, her face lifted to the sky as she soaked in the last few rays of afternoon sun. It would have been peaceful if not for the grunts and yelps of the cadre's afternoon training.

"Move your feet more, boyo!"

"You're too stiff!"

"Can you look at what you're doing?"

Rowan tutted, correcting Fenrys's form for the umpteenth time that hour.

Opening one eye slightly, she glanced towards the high fae males. Rowan and Fenrys had discarded their shirts hours ago under the hot summer sun, their skin slick with sweat as they moved gracefully. Gavriel leaned against a tree nearby, watching his fellow warriors train. She observed as Rowan corrected Fenrys again, using the tip of his sword to adjust the young wolf's stance.

Fenrys caught her gaze and flashed a charming smile that made her close her eyes reflexively. She didn't mind Fenrys; he was annoying and arrogant, but fundamentally a good male. What bothered her was how effortlessly he could coax a blush from her every time they interacted. Lost in the moment, she enjoyed the summer sun, the chirping birds, and the feel of grass between her fingers. Her mind wandered to what lay ahead for her and this new court.

Her peace was shattered by a grunt and the sound of a body hitting the ground.

Looking up, she saw Rowan standing over Fenrys, arms crossed, his expression unreadable as the young wolf clutched his stomach.

"Is he okay?" she asked, rising and walking over, joining Gavriel beside Rowan as they peered down at Fenrys.

"I'm... fine," Fenrys managed between sharp breaths, trying to compose himself. She raised an eyebrow, turning to Rowan for an explanation.

"He was distracted," Rowan grunted, then turned and walked away towards the castle, leaving her confused and frustrated. Fenrys rolled onto his back, muttering, "He isn't very fun to train with," as he slowly got to his feet.

"I think he's bruised your ribs," she noted, observing his careful movements. Though he usually towered over her, he was now slightly hunched, one hand gingerly holding his side. Her gaze flicked to his face, where a small cut had appeared just above his eyebrow.

"I don't think that's all he bruised," Gavriel quipped, helping Fenrys steady himself. The white wolf growled softly in response, his lip curling before pain washed over him again.

"Come on, Fen, let's get you inside," she said gently, wrapping an arm around his waist while he leaned on her shoulder. They made their way to his room, where she settled him onto his bed. "Where do you keep your bandages?" she asked casually, beginning to search through drawers and cupboards.

He nodded his head towards the bathing chamber, she walked into the large space, taking in the marble green floor and the black bathtub. She could stand here and admire how beautiful the architecture was all day, but she quickly shook her head and continued searching.

Sitting beside him on the bed, she examined the cut on his head.

"It's healed already," he remarked, running his thumb over the now-closed wound.

"And how are your ribs?" she inquired, lifting his shirt slightly. He winced as the fabric brushed against the tender bruise on his side. She sucked in a breath. "I think you need ice."

He hummed in agreement, lowering his shirt to conceal the bruise and his warm, tanned skin.

"I've seen you train before... how did this happen?" she asked curiously.

He considered her question, weighing different responses that wouldn't make him sound like a love-struck puppy. "I asked Rowan to submit to me so I could... impress you," he admitted with a blush creeping onto his face. "But he felt the need to knock some sense into me instead," he added, attempting to sound lighthearted.

Her blush mirrored his own as she gently brushed his hair away from his eyes. "How about I get you that ice and we just... forget I saw anything?" she offered with a small smile, a mutual understanding passing between them never to mention this again.

"Thanks, y/n," he said, briefly squeezing her hand.

She spent the rest of the afternoon with Fenrys in his room, chatting about their lives before the war and comparing them to the easy lives they now led, replacing ice packs on his ribs as needed. By nightfall, he could sit up without wincing, his golden hair cascading over his broad shoulders as he looked down at her.

Their eyes met briefly before she felt butterflies in her stomach, prompting her to stand up from the bed. "I'll go fetch dinner," she said quickly, but his firm grip on her arm stopped her. Looking back at him, she heard him say softly, "You've done enough," as he gently pulled her back onto the bed.

She smiled and settled back beside him, spending the rest of the night at his side as per his request, talking and laughing until the moon hung high in the sky.

[danikamariewrites]

Heyy back with another ask bestie🤭 ok so how about a cadre g**g b**g where they are in a war camp with reader and lorcan comes up in there bickering with her which gets the attention of the other cadre and row row comes in like “ik what would shut her up”😈 (they are yummier than the bat boys i stand by that😤)

Cadre (SMUT)

Lorcan x Rowan x Fenrys x Gavriel x f!reader

A/n: hey bestie! I also may favor the cadre over the bat boys at times lol. This concept has me feral so I hope you enjoy this. I left out Connall and Vaughan bc they were so left out of the books so I don’t know their character at all.

Warnings: fivesum, praise kink, degradation, name calling, and some light choking

You pushed back the canvas of the tent, Lorcan on your heels, fuming that you once again didn’t listen. “You’ve got a serious issue, you know that?” You turned, smirking at him. “Lorcan, if I listened to you we’d be dead right now.” Steam practically came out of his ears at your tone.

Before he could start screaming you both spotted Gavriel and Fenrys watching you from their seats at the war table. Fenrys was wearing a feral smirk, nothing brought him joy like watching you and Lorcan spar with your words. Gavriel kept a neutral face. As he assessed the situation and was working through how to intervene should it get physical.

Opening your mouth to say something that would send Lorcan over the edge, Rowan came up behind you. He pressed his sculpted chest into your back. Rowan held your chin in his strong hand, tilting your head back to look up at him.

His long white hair creating a curtain so it felt like it was just you and him having in the room. You flashed him a sweet smile, “Hi Rowan.” You and Rowan had been having a casual fling for some time now. Sex with no strings attached, but whenever he was around it was like you were instantly relaxed.

Rowan smirked back at you, “Hello sweetness. Are you giving Lorcan attitude again?” You feign innocence, “Me? Never.” Rowan lets a hum that let you know he saw right through your bullshit. He looks to Lorcan, keeping your head tilted against his chest, “I think I know how to make her behave. Just need some sense fucked into you huh sweetness.”

Your eyes go wide at Rowan’s boldness in front of the Cadre. He liked to keep things private between you, but you could sense something was different. You decided to play along, just to see what Rowan was scheming. You arched your back, grinding your ass into Rowan’s crotch, letting a small moan past your lips. “Yes sir.”

You could scent the arousal coming from the other Fae males in the tent. Mixing together it was overwhelming you. You didn’t know Rowan had an exhibition kink and if he was going to fuck you as the three of them watched you weren’t one to complain. You could feel your slick almost dripping down your thighs at the thought.

Rowan leans down placing wet, open mouth kisses all over your neck. “Now,” he said against your neck, “since Lorcan told us about the danger you put us all in, we’re all going to teach you a lesson. You gonna be a good girl for us?” Your heart was pounding in your ears. You had dreamed of each of these big strong males manhandling you, but all at once? You were going to pass out.

You hadn’t noticed Fenrys and Gavriel join your little circle until you felt Gavriel caress your cheek. Your attention snapped to him. “He asked you a question y/n.” Your mouth was suddenly dry. Your mind was empty as you wracked your brain for words that wouldn’t show up. Fenrys’ deep laugh had your eyes on him next. “Seems like the thought of having all of us has already caused her pretty little head to go dumb. That right baby?” You nod letting out a soft uh-huh.

“Good girl,” Lorcan purred. Rowan picks you up and brings you over to the large bed, the rest of the cadre follow. Putting you down, Rowan starts taking your leathers off, leaving you bare. He strips and slips behind you, wrapping you in his arms, leaving kisses on your jaw, neck, and shoulders. The others strip and watch you and Rowan with intense stares.

Rowan nips at your pointed ear. “The one treat you get tonight is picking who goes first, baby. Who’s it going to be?” You look at Lorcan, Gavriel, and Fenrys, meeting their hungry gazes with your own. You let out a hum as you think. “Lorcan,” you say in a seductive tone, a smirk playing on your lips.

Lorcan growls as he grabs you from Rowan. You wrap your arms around his neck, meeting his lips in a heated kiss. Your teeth and tongues clash as Lorcan fights for dominance as you push into him. You let him win as he pushes you down on the bed, pinning your shoulders.

He slowly moves down your body. Making sure to nip and kiss and lick every sensitive part of you. You shudder under his touch getting lost in the euphoric feeling of Lorcan dominating you. You caress his broad shoulders. Lorcan was quick to grab your wrists and pin them with one hand.

“Uh-uh baby. The only teary you got was picking me. You don’t get to touch.” He growls. Lorcan let’s a bit of his dark magic to wrap around your wrists, tying them to the bed. You whine as you try to move but the dark shadow like tendrils don’t give. Lorcan let’s out a dark laugh.

He moves to dig his fingers into your hips so hard your sure bruises are already forming. Lorcan drags his canines down one of your breasts, his tongue circling your hardened nipple. He looks at you through dark lashes wrapping his mouth around you and sucking hard. A high pitched moan leaves your mouth. You push your chest into his face. He lets go with a pop leaving a kiss to the top of your breast, a purple bruise forming near your nipple.

Lorcan keeps kissing and dragging his teeth down your torso while still keeping you in a death grip. He leaves teasing kisses on your clit and one tiny little lick. You buck your hips as best you can trying to move closer to his mouth. He tuts at your movements and runs a thick, long finger through your soaking folds.

“Fuck baby, so wet. That all for us?” You nod, looking at him through half lidded eyes. Lorcan lines himself up with your entrance, teasing you with the head of his thick, long cock. “You’re gunna be a good girl and take what I give you.” He grunts as he pushes into your tight cunt. You moan in unison at the feeling of him sinking inside you down to his base.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe he was so deep inside you. Lorcan gave you a second to adjust before he started thrusting into you at brutal pace. His thickness felt so good rubbing against your walls. You could do nothing but writhe beneath him. He was fucking you so good that you just went limp as you felt your orgasm approach.

Your moans got louder and louder as Lorcan pushed down on the bulge of him in your stomach. Your walls twitched around him. “Fuck-Lorcan feels so good.” “Yeah baby. You gunna come for me? Gunna come all over my cock?” You let out a pathetic whine in response. “Are you going to listen from now on? Be an obedient little slut?” You nod your head rapidly chanting yes and his name over and over.

With a few more thrusts your back is arching off the bed, your eyes screw shut as your vision goes fuzzy from the intensity of your orgasm. Your left breathless as he finishes inside you and immediately pulls out of you.

Giving you no time to recover Lorcan pulls you up by the shoulders, pulling his magic away from you. Fuck, you’re so out of it you barley feel his hand wrap around your throat. He pulls you to his chest and his lips meet your in another intense kiss. “If only I could have you all night. You’d never have a bratty attitude.”

Before you could respond Fenrys was pulling you from Lorcan’s grip. “Now Lorcan, be nice. Look at her,” Fenrys pulls you onto his lap, snaking his arms around you and rubbing soft circles into your skin with his calloused thumbs. He softly kisses your temple and you relax into him.

“She was so good for you. Don’t you think she deserves a reward?” Lorcan rolls his eyes as he adjusts his position at the foot of the bed. Fenrys gently lays you down and your eyes flutter shut. He smoothes your hair. Your eyes flutter open and wrap your arms around his neck, lazily playing with the strands of his long golden hair.

“You can hold on to me. You’re going to need to baby.” Fenrys kisses down your neck but quickly picks up the pace. Your energy comes back, spurred on by Fenrys’ eagerness to be tracing your curves for the first time. Fenrys wastes no time with you. You tug harder at those perfect curls as he slips into your already stretched out cunt.

Still sensitive from the fucking Lorcan gave you, you knew you wouldn’t last long with Fenrys. His thrusts were long and deep. Exploratory and full of curiosity. You held onto each other as his pace increased, your legs wrapping around his waist. Heels pushing into his back.

Without warning, your walls spasm around Fenrys and come. He keeps going, as he chases his own high. He looks down where you connect and he moans. Your release mixed with Lorcan’s is leaking from your hole. “Shit baby, look at you. Such a mess for us. You feel so good. I never wanna leave this pussy. So warm and full.” You bury your face into his neck and moan, his scent wrapping around you.

“Fuck, you can take another can’t you? You want my come don’t you baby?” “Yes Fenrys! Fuck, please, please, please!” Two more thrusts and his release paints your walls. You once again go limp as Fenrys collapses on top of you. Both of you panting. “So good.” He whispered into your chest.

Gavriel pulls Fenrys off you and rolls him to lay on his back next to Lorcan. Rowan is lifting you again. He turns you to look at him. You settle on your knees, steadying yourself by laying your hands on his chest. “Think you’ve learned your lesson sweets?” Gavriel kneels behind you, his chest pressing into your back.

By the grace of some god you still have the strength to look Rowan in the eyes and give him a smirk that says “not a chance”. He sighs. Looking to Gavriel, Rowan motions with his chin. Rowan move back to lay against the pillows at the headboard, spreading his legs and stroking his cock.

Gavriel moves you both back down the bed a bit then he pushes you to bend at the waist, elbows resting on the bed. Rowan fists your hair “Lets use that mouth for something other than talking back, hmm.” Rowan hummed. He pulls you down to swallow his cock. Making your head bob. Using your hands to cover what you couldn’t take in your mouth you set an acceptable pace for Rowan. “That’s it, just like that. See you can be a good girl. Just needed to give that mouth something to do.”

As you kept sucking Rowan off you felt Gavriel lightly running his fingers over your ass. He moves down to your pussy, sinking two fingers in. He curls and pumps them a few times before pulling out. Gavriel brings his fingers to his lips and licks them clean, moaning at the taste of you mixed with Lorcan and Fenrys.

“Such a filthy slut. But like Lorcan said, just for us to play with.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. As he leaned forward you felt his hard cock poke your thigh, your eyes rolling back at the thought of taking him and Rowan at the same time. Gavriel places soft kisses down your spine, so different from the way he was just talking about you.

He kisses down to your ass and finally lines himself up with you. He slowly sinks into you, letting you adjust to him inch by inch. Not like you need to after having Lorcan and Fenrys absolutely abuse you. But Gods above he feels good. But he’s taking too long.

When Gavriel finally starts to move you hum around Rowan causing him to his, his hands flying to grip your hair again. Gavriel fucks you it’s like no male has ever fucked you before. He’s taking the time to learn every inch of you inside and out. What parts of you are extra sensitive right now. You don’t know if you can go back to just having Rowan after Gavriel. The others were good, but holy shit. Gavriel was great.

You felt his fingers on your clit, rubbing it in small circles. As the pace of his thrusts picked up so did his fingers. You started to choke on Rowan’s cock and he was once again tightly grabbing your hair, controlling your movements.

You’d never admit this to any of them but this felt good. Not being in control. Being pleasured and used by them. You were in heaven right now. You felt your third orgasm on the night creeping up on you. That knot in your stomach tightening. Your eyes rolling. Your moans muffled and squeaky.

With a pinch to your clit and a few more perfectly angled thrusts from Gavriel you come undone one last time. His own orgasm following immediately after. You heard him swear above you as he pulled out of you. He kept your legs spread watching the mess between your legs drip down your thighs and onto the sheets.

Rowan pulled you off of him, finishing in his hand so you could catch your breath. As soon as he let go of your hair you collapsed on the bed, breathing deeply. You felt the four of them staring at you. It felt tense for some reason. You slowly flipped onto your back, stretching as best you could.

You let out a small hum, “Holy shit.” Fenrys let out a laugh. Rowan and Gavriel were pulling you up the bed, tucking you between them. Now that your punishment was over all they wanted to do was take care of you.

“You ok sweets?” An mmhhmm sounds from you followed by a yawn. You turn snuggling into Gavriel’s chest. He wraps an arm around you. Rowan gets up searching for a cloth or spare shirt to clean you up with. When he returns and spreads your legs you whine. Rowan quickly shushes you rubbing your thigh. “I’m just cleaning you up sweets.” He whispers.

You relax letting him wipe between your thighs. “There you go. All done.” He kisses your forehead and slips next to you again. Lorcan and Fenrys head off to their own beds after seeing you content in Rowan and Gavriel’s arms.

“Goodnight y/n,” Gavriel whispers. A cold wind rushes through the tent. Turning out all the lanterns and cooling your heated skin. You were glad it was Gavriel and Rowan holding you. You drifted off thinking what it would be like to be with them for eternity.

[darkfictionjude]

Nia’s mother abandoned her and she in turn did the same thing to Birdie.

(P.s. I’ve reached past the midway point for episode 6 cheers)

[acourtofquestions]

HC:

When Aelin is pregnant with their first child she tells everyone “if it’s a boy I’m naming him after his dear lost uncle… Vaughan.”

Lysandra & Aedion: keep giving Rowan pleading looks, with increasing fear that she is indeed NOT joking.

Rowan: agreed to it without hesitation. *thanks to knowing it’s a girl from the dream* though this was to no one’s surprise unnoticed reasoning; as even the gods know he would do anything for his mate… including naming their firstborn after someone barely anyone knows.

Lorcan: just hopes it’s true so someone has a silly name to distract from “Lord Lorcan Lochan”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Well you know I always love me some Lorcan. I was thinking about dad Lorcan the other say holding his tiny baby for the first time?

Or with Fenrys him surprising you with a puppy like Fleetfoot

I got lots of little headcannons

Mmmm it’s been a hot minute with Lorcan. Miss that hunk of a male… and also you know that your requests are always welcome! ✨

Squish

Yeah, in Lorcan’s books babies and him don’t work together. Just can’t be in the same sentence. Shouldn’t be. So when you fall pregnant he is mortified. In awe of your body. With you growing a new life but so scared that he had something to do with that. It’s not about the responsibility. Not even about the fact that he doesn’t deserve it. But the idea of someone so small depending on him.

So when the little bundle of joy finally was born. Lorcan did everything but touched her. He was by your side. Bringing you things you might need. Things the baby might need. He laid by your side. Helped you hold the baby while you fed her. But he didn’t reach out to hold her. Lorcan watched her. Following her every move. The pattern of her breathing.

“You should do skin-to-skin with her”, you slowly set up, reaching for a glass. Lorcan was about to step in to help but you stopped him, “I can get that, you get our girl”. And it’s as if you had said something that had crumpled his whole world. “Lorcan”, you called out softly, “You can do it, my darling”. He swallowed thickly, turning to the crib.

“What is it? You’re having second thoughts?”, you said quietly and Lorcan instantly shakes his head. “I just, I’ve never held a baby”, he breathed out, “Plus, I don’t know how to be gentle”. You carefully got out of bed, slowly walking closer to the crib, “That’s not true. You hold me constantly and you are more than gentle”. He wanted to argue but you dipped slightly, picking up a still-sleeping babe.

“Sit down and relax”, you muttered, rocking the girl in your arms. “I can drop her”, he argued back. “You’re sitting down, my love”, you reassured him. “Squeeze her”, “All you’ll have to do is put your palm on her back”, but his body still looked ridged. “What if she observes all of my dirty… I haven’t showered, yes”, Lorcan was about to jump up when you pressed your palm to his shoulder, “You love her a lot that’s why you’re panicking but it’s okay, she is tougher then you think she is”, you smiled down at him, cupping his cheek, before reaching to hand him the little girl.

“Y/n”, he said in a way higher pitch, enough to make the girl frown slightly in her sleep. Distance him and leave him no other way around holding her. “You also should breathe, baby, your lungs are working”, you laughed slightly at him all panicked like that. “What if…”, he started but you quickly cut him off, “Look at that little smile”, Lorcan looked down quickly. And it was true her chubby cheek was squished against his chest, a lazy smile on her face as her tiny palm pressed against her chin.

“I think she’s excited that daddy finally showed up”, you brushed your fingers through his hair. As if on cue she let out a satisfied sigh, earning a slight chuckle from Lorcan. “All this time she was fusing around because she was looking for you”, you watched his eyes soften as Lorcan carefully brushed his finger over her cheeks. “It’s really… Calming”, he muttered. “To hold her?”, you asked softly sitting down by his side as you rested your head on his arm. “Yeah, she’s so warm and so soft”, Lorcan mussed, “I don’t want to let her go”, “Good because I doubt she wants to be apart from you”.

[glittergelpensblog]

Requests are now open for:

Azriel

Cassian

Rhysand

Eris

Lucien

Rowan

Lorcan

Adieon

Fenrys

Dorian

[utterlyotterlyx]

A Ballad of Storm and Shadow

Azriel x F!Reader

Part Five

Summary - Rhys had been content in taking the darkest secret of his family to the grave, but when the threat of Hybern increases, he has no choice but to send a message to another world and pray to the Mother that his call is answered.

Warnings - some fluff, flirtation, mentions of blood and gore

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

This is a crossover series, some aspects will differ from that in the books. Physical attributes are described in this fic, it is essential to the storyline of the character

Azriel hadn't been able to keep his eyes off of y/n despite Elain's incessant chirping about the gardens and her desire to venture into the city for more seeds.

The training grounds weren't usually so busy, but that morning it turned out that Nesta and Mor had begged y/n to spar with them, and she couldn't exactly say no, not when they had established bonds at dinner the evening before.

So there Azriel sat at the edge of the ring, watching y/n move like a phantom breeze and swing her sword like it was an extension of her soul whilst Elain chattered on beside him. He hadn't minded the sound of her voice, it was a miracle she was even speaking at all considering everything that had happened to her, and he was happy to play a part of her settling but it was clear that Elain believed there was something else between them.

He couldn't help but allow his eyes to drag over y/n's figure, from the curve of her hips in the leathers she donned to the tilt of her gleaming smile. Azriel was bewitched. Just as he caught her loosely braided hair swaying in the breeze and wondering how it would feel between his fingers, a voice pulled him from the image, "Azriel? Are you listening?"

Glancing to his left, Azriel's hazel orbs connected with those of Elain, doe-like and soft, and he felt his trance disperse into the air, allowing the clash of swords to fill his ears, "Sorry, Elain. What did you say?"

The pink of her skirt dusted against the dirt of the training grounds, her hair bristling in the unobstructed breeze, "I asked if you'd like to come into the city with me this afternoon? For the seeds?" Azriel moved his gaze back to y/n and didn't feel bad about it, he was more than happy to watch her train, maybe he would get to go head to head with her at some point as well. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Azriel hummed softly in agreement, "Yes, she really is."

"I didn't know that Rhys had a sister. Feyre never mentioned anything."

Frowning slightly, Azriel told her, "Feyre didn't know. No one did. Rhys was prepared to die with the secret, she's only here because he sent her a message, a call for aid. Once the war is over she'll likely return to her world."

Elain examined Azriel's face, the transfixed eyes and softened lips, the lax shoulders and how his shadows were perched upon his shoulders staring at y/n like she was the last blinkering star in existence. She knew better than to get between a look like that, a stare more powerful than one ever given to her. Elain sighed, gathering her journals in her arms, "Maybe another time?"

Without sparing her his eyes, Azriel nodded, rising to his feet and making his way over to the ring where both Nesta and Mor lay on their backs panting whilst y/n stepped over their forms with a smirk, wings stretching and knowing that the two females were done for the day. Y/N approached the weapons rack, settling her sword back on its perch as she felt that familiar cool curl around her arms, smiling downward at the shadows which caressed her skin. "Did you enjoy the show?"

Turning on the balls of her feet, she came face-to-face with Azriel who peered down upon her with wonder, his lips curled upward into a knowing smirk, "It was impressive," he told her with his arms folded over his chest, sparing a glance backward over his shoulder at a groaning Mor who was struggling to stand on her feet without swaying. "I'm just wondering when it will be my turn."

"Your turn?" Y/N took a singular step toward him, her scent becoming entangled with the air he inhaled, infecting his bones straight down to their cores.

"Yes."

The fire in her eyes danced with intrigue, and all Azriel could think of was having her trapped beneath him, his legs pinning her body and hands wrapped around the back of her neck. He could almost picture the sparks of blue in her eyes up close, how they would ebb and flow with the ire of submitting to him.

"We can go now," her voice teased as her chest brushed against his, "If you're ready for me that is."

A soft breeze swept over her face, causing the shorter tendrils of hair to stick to her cheeks, and Azriel couldn't stop his marred fingers from reaching out and removing them from her skin, lightly brushing his digits along the contour of her cheekbone and allowing his gaze to roam over her face.

"I'll always be ready for you," his voice held a certain softness to it, like he was speaking to her in the dead of night, hushed so that he wouldn't cause the storm to stir.

His touch lingered on her cheek, and up close, Azriel was mesmerised by the hue of y/n's eyes. They weren't just violet, they were a myriad of purple and storm grey, with the smallest speckles of blue which caused them to appear alight, and her limbal ring was a shade of deep onyx which just gave Azriel one more reason to be completely consumed by her.

Y/N went to speak, to open her perfectly sculpted lips and say something, but the words were stolen from her throat. In his shadow, she was simply y/n, not a queen or the most formidable warrior Erilea had ever birthed, not the daughter of the Valg or the bringer of the storms; under his eyes, she was just y/n. And she quite liked how that made her feel.

Though, she had wished that she was paying more attention to her surroundings, namely to the set of eyes that were likened to her own now glancing between her and the male who held her cheek in his hand. "Your match will have to wait," Rhys' voice slithered between them, pulling their gazes apart but not their bodies. He held a report in his fingers, his eyes were brimming with concern, "There's an update on Hybern's movements," his eyes moved to his sister, the only one who was truly undetectable and able to do what he so desperately needed, "I need you."

The rage that was written upon Azriel's face was so intense that it made even Rhys feel small.

After his interruption, Rhys had moved the entirety of the Inner Circle indoors, away from any prying eyes and ears, into the main seating area within the House of Wind. It was a comfortable place and the view beyond the arched windows was truly exquisite, even in the daylight when y/n could carve out every section within the mountains where various settlements lay, even the specific place where the pool of starlight resided.

"No." Azriel had snarled at Rhys' request from beside y/n. The Shadowsinger appeared relaxed, but there was molten ash swarming within him, within his eyes and his limbs. "If she were to get hurt then it'll be you that will have to face Aelin and Rowan and tell them why their closest friend, ally, and queen, has been harmed."

It seemed as though only Azriel understood the gravity of what the wrath of Aelin and Rowan would mean for them all, and he knew that with Aelin and Rowan came Lorcan and Aedion, y/n's bloodsworn, and Manon, the latter of which when she was mentioned made Azriel shiver.

Huffing with amusement, y/n rose from her place beside Azriel, finding his protectiveness to be rather alluring, "I can handle Aelin and Rowan," she paced toward the balcony, fixing a pair of leather fingerless gloves to her wrists and ensuring her twin blades were secured against her thighs. Y/N turned to face Azriel who had also risen, wings bristling at his back like they were preparing themselves to shoot off into the sky after her. "One day, you might stop underestimating me."

"I'll use the storms as cover, you'll get the information you need," she told Rhys stoically, opening the large looming balcony doors and stepping into the heightened winds.

Hybern was moving, the threat increasing, but the reports were too vague for Rhys, too conflicting, and he needed someone to report first hand on their movements, size, weaponry, the beasts in their arsenal. Everything. The rest of them were too recognisable, but y/n had the power to disappear whenever she wished, and that was the power that they needed.

"You don't know the continent." Stopping in her place, she turned, finding Azriel at the mouth of the doorway with Rhys stood not that far behind him. "You'll need help navigating the skies and knowing where exactly you are. Let me come with you."

Rhys nor Cassian had ever seen Azriel appear so desperate to be close to someone. From his seat beside Feyre, Cassian tilted his head toward his brother whose hand was outstretched to y/n, and if he could notice the longing glances between them then it must have been extremely obvious to everyone else. He had convinced himself that Mor was lying about was she saw in the training ring that morning, but apparently she was telling the truth.

Cassian had never seen Azriel look so obsessively helpless.

It took her a moment, but y/n nodded, once, and stiffly, before she spoke, "Stay close. You won't survive a lightening strike if it catches you."

The words should have scared him, or at least made him feel slightly wary. But Azriel didn't feel anything other than delight and privilege at the thought of being able to navigate the skies with her, and to be shielded under her power.

Unfurling her wings, Azriel watched in awe as the tips draped over the moon. He could count each feather individually from where he stood, he could etch the curves and membrane to his memory. And with a single beat of those onyx wings that resembled the night sky, y/n soared upward, craning her body in the direction of the wind before allowing it to support her flight.

Azriel wasted no time in joining her.

Three days.

Seventy-two hours.

Four thousand, three hundred and twenty minutes.

That's how long they'd been away for. Spending hours of the night in the wrath of the storms, scouring the lands below their flight for a sign of the Hybern forces. Though it was to no avail.

They'd return to the small cabin they had found at dawn each morning, y/n groaning for a bath and Azriel seeking a moments rest that never found him easily. Azriel had become grumpy, tired of the bristled winds and icy rain that poured down upon him every night thanks to y/n’s storms thundering on to protect them from anything that may be watching from below.

Apparently she was used to such conditions.

It also didn’t help that his rest was confined to the small couch by the entry, his wings ached and there was only a small fire to keep him warm. In those dim moments of discomfort, Azriel wished that he had taken up y/n’s offer to sleep in the bed, to stretch his wings and rest just enough to keep his senses sharp, but he could never take something from her, not when her power was exhausting her to keep them both safe and hidden in the skies.

The nights went by with little conversation, though whatever words were spoken were always light. Despite the importance of their mission, y/n was doing her best to separate the seriousness from it; Azriel had chosen, no, begged to go with her, and she wasn’t about to make the time they spent together full of misery. Though, what y/n did know was that it would be easier for her to find the armies of Hybern on her own. Thanks to Azriel’s need to answer every single one of her questions, y/n was sure that she could navigate the skies on her without issue.

“Az,” y/n called from the doorway of the bathroom where pools of steam swirled along the floor. Azriel craned his head toward her, hazel eyes moving up her bare legs to the towel that was wrapped around her body, allowing his imagination to run wild, “Take the bed,” she told him, nodding toward the plush pillows and sheets that were calling out to him as she adjusted the towel around her chest, the twin mountain tattoos to Rhys’ rippling at her knees.

“You need it more than me,” he told her pointedly, raising an eyebrow at the tapping of her impatient foot again the wooden floor. Even with damp hair and glistening skin, y/n was by far the most mesmerising female he had ever seen, her jaw was so sharp that he was sure it would cut him if he ran a finger along it, her eyes were so bold and hypnotic that they threatened to possess his soul, and he would let them. “Your power has been keeping us safe for three nights now, it needs to recharge.”

Scoffing, y/n folded her arms over her chest, “I don’t think you know how my power works,” she sauntered back into the bathroom, pushing her hair over her shoulder before pushing the door to, but leaving it open by just a crack to allow the bathroom to air out from her obscenely hot bath.

He wished that he could have controlled the urge, he wished that he could just stay put, but the devil chirping in his ear was convincing enough to push him to his feet and slowly move toward the door. Through the crack, he watched as she dropped the towel to her waist and raked her fingers through the lengths of her hair. Azriel watched her skin shimmer in the light of dawn, and saw the curve of her breasts as she moved about, though, that wasn’t what he could focus on. It was the scar trailing from her ear to her tailbone which held his eye, it was angry and scaled, and grey in places, like it was still healing, he kept an eye on it even when her wings rustled at her back, drying themselves from the slick ointments she used which made her smell like his own personal heaven.

Azriel continued to watch as she ran her fingers over her skin, stopping to examine every bump and scar with a frown before tugging a short-sleeved but skintight shirt over her head and reaching for a brush to run it through the wind-induced knots in her drying hair. All Azriel wanted to do was care for her, to run that brush through her hair and place feathering kisses down the length of the healing scar that curled down over her shoulder and spine, but he wouldn’t, instead, Azriel turned away just as y/n reached the unwind the towel from her waist and resumed his position on the chair just before she exited the bathroom altogether.

“Take the bed, Az.” Y/N told him sternly, twirling her hair around her finger and tying it in a low sitting bun, “I’m going to go for a walk anyway, we need more firewood.”

Looking to the once plenitude chunks of wood that were dwindling to almost nothing, Azriel sent her a sidelong glare as she tugged on her shoes, “I’ll go.”

“No you won’t,” she replied, voice cold and demanding, her violet eyes were screaming for a moment of solitude, and despite his objections and the refusals in his ears from his shadows, he stiffly nodded and turned back to the ashen fireplace with a small frown. “I’ll be back soon.”

She left the small cabin quickly, throwing her cape over her shoulders and tugging it closer to her body as she traipsed through the sullen woodland, branches bending under her feet and the wind whipping against her reddened cheeks. All she had to do was get far enough away from Azriel’s earshot to be able to plunge herself into the skies without him realising what she was doing. Part of her felt bad for leaving him behind, but it was clear that he needed to rest, and that the shrill cold and damp of her storms were beginning to weigh him down.

It was a kindness really. In her eyes anyway.

Once she could no longer see the cabin, y/n walked for another fifteen minutes before unfurling her feathered wings and with one beat sent herself soaring upward through the trees. For a moment, she floated there, deciding which direction to go, and she summoned the spirit of the wind to aid her, allowing it to coil in her mind and will her northward toward a set of three mountains that she and Azriel had scoured on the first night.

On approach, they felt different, and y/n flew higher into the clouds to use them as cover as she soared over the clearings and valleys, not wanting to dip any lower in fear that she’d be seen, but she had no choice.

Y/N dipped over the peak of the tallest mountain, the same one she looked at before she went to sleep in the cabin because she thought that it touched the moon, and immediately saw what they had been looking for. The armies swam for miles down the valley, tall wooden cannons stood at the mouth of the woodland, surrounded by tents and fires; the stench of death filtered through into her lungs, and she could feel the power of that damned cauldron not too far away, and she deduced that it had wisely been glamoured. Amongst the tents and soldiers milling about the space, y/n spied winged beasts perched far away from the foot soldiers, probably because they were too terrified to be anywhere near them, and y/n didn’t blame them, their pointed ears and elongated teeth, and their leathery wings were enough to make even her feel queasy. But y/n had fought and survived much worse beasts than the ones stationed below.

Counting the cannons and making mental notes of the sizes and breeds of beasts in the arsenal of the King of Hybern, y/n went to swiftly turn back, to allow the wind to carry her back to the cabin to gather Azriel and then move onward to Rhys.

But the sharp piercing of arrows through her wings stopped her from doing such things, and y/n fell downward through the skies, whatever poison they had dipped the arrowheads in seeping into and weakening her body and powers. The wind flew by her as if trying to slow her fall, and with the last speckle of her power before it dimmed completely, y/n sent out a wave so strong that the air vibrated and hummed just as she hit the ground with a sickening thud.

Groaning, she rolled onto her front, wincing as she counted the four arrows that were embedded into the feathers and membrane of her wings, which made flying to safety impossible. There was no way that Prythian or Hybern would have the knowledge of the poison to slow her unless they knew that she was in their world, somehow, the King of Hybern was wholly aware of her presence, and he had taken steps to ensure that she would at least be slowed enough to be fatally harmed.

Y/N pushed herself shakily to her feet, her fae ears struggling to keep track of the beating of wings approaching her position as they became muffled and her vision hazed. How could she be so stupid? How could she be so unaware of the legion of soldiers and beasts watching her from the peak of the mountain? Queens weren’t meant to be shot down from the skies, especially fae queens who were at one with them.

Retrieving the dagger from the waistband of her briefs, she looked up through the trees, spying the wavering shadows of the winged beasts hovering overhead and willing her wobbling legs into the thickness of the woodland, struggling up the mounds, panting and grunting as she did her best to ignore the spreading poison in her veins that weakened her more each passing moment. The chill coursing up her spine told her that the beasts were closing in, that and their giggles of terror echoing through the forest, making it clear that they were enjoying the hunt and had no wish to kill her, but to only take her back to their master.

The Queen of the Fae continued to run as fast as her legs would allow, relying on her depleting senses to carry her to safety, but it was to no avail.

A body barrelled y/n into a nearby tree, and she felt her ribs crack and splinter underneath her skin at the force of it. Tears prickled her eyes and soft whimpers of frustration fell from her lips, but she wasn’t allowed to clamber to her feet, not when a winged beast drew a scream from her lips as its talons became embedded in her belly, her shriek was loud and shrill, and it sent shockwaves through the earth and air.

“Pretty thing, isn’t she?” A voice as void as death teased, saliva from its fangs dripped onto her skin, searing the surface with its acidity, “Did you truly think that he didn’t know of you? That you wouldn’t come to aid your blood?”

Ripping its talons from her flesh, y/n felt the blood flow from the open wound. The beast curled a razor sharp digit under her chin, lifting her gaze to its face, and its cunning grin made anger swarm inside of her chest.

“How did he know?” Y/N panted, blood continuing to pour from the deep puncture in her abdomen, doing her best to distract the clan of nightmarish creatures for just long enough.

“Your brother isn’t the only one with allies in high places,” the others chuckled, happy to sit back and watch their ring leader torment the poisoned queen at their complete mercy. “Our king wants you alive, but we personally don’t want to see a thing like you live.”

Not a monster like you.

Poison to the earth.

Kin of demons.

Their chants echoed around her, burying themselves into the marrow of her bones.

The beast raised its gnarled hand, a sadistic grin upon its monstrous excuse of a mouth, ready to strike. Ready to take the life of a poisoned queen of a different world.

But it stopped.

Not by its own accord, however.

A blast of dark magic erupted from the east, sending the creature looming over her wailing and clutching at itself whilst it twisted horridly through the air, becoming impaled on a nearby set of branches. Flashes of blue and gold coiled over her hazed vision followed by the dying shrieks of beasts gargling on the blacks of their own blood, and despite the blood coating her lips, y/n couldn’t resist a smile.

Turning her head to the side, she counted three males, two from her world and one not, all fighting, all appearing to her in their own glorious beauties, but they were too enthralled in the taste of battle to notice what was creeping up on them, all too focused on what was going on at the tips of their fingers to observe.

Without thinking, and with using all of the strength she had left, y/n threw herself onto her feet, knife in hand and vision clearing with the last burst of adrenaline that flowed through her veins. Before it could reach Azriel, she hurtled herself onto the back of it, screaming and digging her dagger into its spine over and over. The monster clawed at her legs, shredding the fabric of her pants and slicing her skin like paper. It didn’t stop her, and with one final plunge into the back of its skull, the monster went rigid and fell onto the ground, leaving her stood before the three males that she was far too relieved to see.

Heaving in uneasy breathes, Y/N rested a hand on her hip, knowing that all the three males could look at was the deep wound settled into her stomach that was leaking blood at the tempo of her heartbeat. “Azriel, I’m sure you introduced yourself to Lorcan and Aedion?”

Azriel didn’t say a word, he couldn’t, not when she looked as she did. Pale. Bloody. Weak. Her hair had become loose and stuck to the side of her face, her clothes were saturated in blood and filth, and her wings. Gods. Her wings were impaled with arrows, feathers askew and some littering the ground.

How she was still standing, none of them knew. They all knew that she should be dead.

It was Lorcan who was the first to move, a male that towered over Azriel birthed by death itself, he moved to y/n, catching her swaying body in his large arms. “Tell me you brought Yrene,” y/n pleaded breathlessly, wincing as Lorcan swept her into his arms with little to no effort at all.

“She’s at that shack you’ve been staying in,” Aedion paced across the ground splattered in blood, her own and the creatures that had shot her from the skies, and rested his hand on her cheek, worry laced in the eyes which were twin to Aelin’s.

“Good. That’s good,” her once pristine white teeth were drowning in an ocean of red, it poured from the corners of her lips, and with a stiff nod from Aedion, Lorcan ran faster than anything Azriel had ever seen, leaving him and the blonde haired warrior alone in the clearing.

“If she dies,” Aedion trailed off, already not enjoying the company of the Shadowsinger considering he had allowed his queen to venture in the void on her own, he turned to Azriel, eyes ablaze and disgust snarling on his lips, “We will tear this world apart.”

We. As in Aelin and Rowan, Aedion and Lorcan, and no doubt the thing they called Manon.

A chill ran down Azriel’s spine at the thought, but all he could do was nod and move back to the cabin with Aedion in tow, watching and assessing him. He couldn’t describe the fear he felt when that rush of power startled him awake, nor the pain in his gut that felt like he was being disembowelled, and when Lorcan and Aedion barged into the cabin with a sheepish woman in tow did he realise just what was happening.

Azriel had called for Rhys instantly before they left for her, leaving Yrene behind to set up her supplies with a paling face, like she could smell in the air what was coming her way.

By the time they had made it back to the cabin, the anguish was palpable in the air. Rhys and Lorcan stood leaning against the beams of the door, both looking up from the ground through their lashes once they heard the rustling of leaves and footsteps approaching. From the look on his face, Azriel knew that Rhys was furious, with him or the appearance of Aedion and Lorcan he couldn’t quite tell but he was leaning toward the former.

“How is she?” Aedion stalked ahead, wanting to go into the room, no doubt because of the bond that flowed between him and y/n, but Lorcan stopped him with a firm hand on the shoulder, halting the warrior before he could take one step further.

Rhys’ gaze fell on Azriel and he cocked his head to the side with no emotion in his eyes, “Where were you?”

“I was sleeping.” Lorcan scoffed at the words, he knew that he would never choose to sleep over protecting his queen. “She told me that she was going to get firewood.”

“And you believed her?” Aedion asked, distaste on his tongue and hatred in his eyes.

“I had no reason not to,” Azriel deadpanned, craning his neck to try and catch a glimpse of y/n inside, “Will she be alright?”

The observant eye of Lorcan swept over him, noting his desperation, noting his guilt and self-loathing, and he shuffled on his feet, “If anyone can save her then it would be Yrene.”

As if on cue, the door to the cabin opened to give way for Yrene to step outside, and Azriel caught a fleeting glimpse of y/n upon the bed, chest rising and falling with bandages wrapped around her torso and thighs. “She’ll live, but the effects of the poison may last a couple of days,” she sent a pointed glare to Lorcan and Aedion, one of question. “The question is how they got their hands on the only poison that can hurt her, it’s too refined a recipe to live in this world.” Yrene wiped her bloodied hands upon her apron and sighed.

Aedion and Lorcan shared a pointed glance, “Aelin will want her back in Erilea once she hears of this.”

Sighing, Rhys ran a hand over his face, like he knew something that the rest of them didn’t, “Aelin already knows that my sister has been harmed,” his words beckoned the attention of the three males and Yrene, and Rhys’ eyes flickered between all of them, “Aelin is in Velaris. It seems that whatever brought you here did the same for her, and Rowan, and the one you call Manon. And since y/n’s power won’t fully return for a few days, you’re all stuck here.”

Dread settled into Azriel’s gut at the thought of what beating was due to come his way, but he refused to focus on it. He entered the cabin, slowly approaching the bed and drifting his hand over the pallid fingers of y/n, shivering at the cold that settled inside of him.

“I’ll winnow her back. Can you take care of those three?” Rhys appeared at his side, eyes soft as they drank in the corpse of his sister. Rhys moved to her, sliding his hands under her legs and around her back, apologising to her gently at her soundless whimpers.

Once Rhys was done making sure that she was settled and as comfortable as she could be, he stepped backward into the black mists of his power, leaving Azriel alone with three beings he was sure wanted to end his existence.

Authors Note

Sorry this took so long! Life has really been lifing recently 😭

Taglist

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[throneofsapphics]

Hii could i request something fluffy with lorcan and his mate is like clumsy?

Hope you have a nice day🫶🫶

capable of chaos 

Lorcan x Reader 

Summary: You keep dropping things, Lorcan is mildly frustrated. 

Warnings: none 

A/N: thank you for the request! I hope you’re having a great day :) 

Lorcan winced as the dagger clattered to the floor, missing your bare feet by inches. In seconds, he was across the room, throwing you right over his shoulder. 

You laughed, fists pounding at his back. “I”m fine,” 

“You almost stabbed yourself in the foot,” he hissed, dropping you down on the couch, far from any sharp or pointy objects. In fact, he scanned the surrounding areas to make sure none were within a few feet. . 

A soft laugh, and you wiggled your foot, “all in one piece.” 

“For now,” Lorcan sat next to you, tugging your feet over his lap, letting his hand rest on the inside of your calf. “How have you survived by yourself for this long?”  

You let out a vaguely offended noise, but it was a genuine question. Sometimes he has no idea how the hell you haven’t gotten yourself killed yet. 

“I’m a fully capable female,” you said - but even then you glanced at the ornament on the mantle, above a currently raging fire. A decorative sheep you’d fallen in love with, now missing an ear because you dropped it before they could even get it on the shelf. You were capable of chaos, and he loved you for it, as much as it drove him up the wall on occasion. 

“Sure.” 

A heel lodged itself in his ribs, before he snatched your ankle, now pinning both legs down on his lap. 

With a very dramatic and unnecessary sigh, you relaxed back into the couch cushions, body loosening. “I should pick up that dagger, before someone steps on it.”

Before the sentence finished, Lorcan had already grunted and shot up, snatching it from the floor. Already up, he decided to make tea for the two of you. He didn’t bother telling you, you’d be able to see what he was doing. 

Once the water was boiling, he glanced  over his shoulder. You’d stretched out further on the couch, now taking up the entire space, arms resting behind your head, eyes closed. 

“For a capable female,” he said dryly, “you’re very content to lay there.” 

You peeked one eye open, “do you want me handling sharp objects? I can think of a very good home for that dagger.” 

He rolled his eyes, “your aim is horrible,” but did another check to make sure none were within your reach. There’s always a chance you’d get lucky. 

[shadowdaddies]

Reunited - Part III

Fenrys x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: After years of working as a spy in Adarlan, you are finally reunited with your cousin, Aelin, as you join the war to reclaim Terrasen and bring peace to Erilea. What you don't expect is to meet your mate in the middle of a war.

A/N: for those whom I told the next parts would be less angsty... that doesn't refer to this one I'm so sorry

Warnings: canon-typical violence, KOA spoilers

Your muscles were heavy from peaceful sleep, a satisfied smile gracing your lips as eyes fluttered open to see Aedion and Gavriel standing at the opposite side of the room from where you lay.

Forcing yourself to sit up, you looked around to find yourself in a tent, piles of blankets and furs draped over where you had been sleeping on the ground.

“She’ll be furious with you,” Aedion whispered, seemingly unaware that you had awoken. “But I thank you,” he ground out, the resistance clear in his tone as he looked to your father. 

Gavriel’s tawny eyes flicked to you, lined with sorrow as memories came rushing back. Your entire body heated with pure rage and fear, nails clawing into the covers of your makeshift bed as you tossed the covers away. 

“You,” you seethed, eyes wide and teeth bared as you stood to face Gavriel. It was Aedion who stepped between you, his eyes showing a vulnerability you had yet to see him reveal in front of your father. 

“I know you are upset. But for once,” he glanced pointedly at Gavriel, “he did the right thing. No good could have come from Maeve knowing that you are Fenrys’s mate.”

Hearing his name unleashed a wave of emotion, a lump catching in your throat as the bond screamed inside of you, longing for your other half. “He’s gone,” you whispered, voice breaking as painful, hopeless thoughts eddied in a whirlpool, threatening to drown you. “I may never truly know my mate, because of you,” you growled the last word, tone piercing Gavriel enough to make him flinch.

Aedion fully stepped in front of you, his hands cupping your cheeks, covering your father from your view. “Listen to me. Maeve would have used you to torture him. She would have used you to torture Aelin. Saving him was not an option when he is so close to Maeve. Their blood oath is too strong.”

Your eyes shuttered as the hopeless realization crashed over you like an ocean wave knocking you below the surface. You stepped back, willing your thoughts to calm enough to look at Gavriel’s face, his expression full of guilt and worry. “I swear to you, we will find him. We will free him, if it is the last thing that I do.” He spoke with such conviction, you felt your heart soften, suddenly feeling guilty for how you had spoken to Gavriel.

Before you could find the words to apologize, Gavriel continued. “That is why we are headed north. Aedion leaves for Orynth shortly, but we will be joining Rowan along with Lorcan and Elide. So long as you feel that bond in your chest, we can use it to find Fenrys and Aelin.”

You nodded, shifting into the familiar mindset of a spy as you had lived for so long. “When do we leave?” 

A soft, proud smile graced Aedion’s lips, your brother pulling you in for a hug as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I leave now. I had just come to say goodbye,” he murmured. It was an all too familiar sentiment in your family - the sacrifice of leaving your loved ones in the name of duty. 

“Stay safe. I will see you soon,” you responded, not an encouragement, but an oath - one that you clung to, your chest tight as your brother disappeared out the tent. Gaze flicking to Gavriel, you raised your eyebrows in silent question.

“We leave as soon as Rowan returns from the neighboring town. He and Elide are there looking for information from the locals, and we will decide where to travel from there.” All you could manage was a nod, your emotions still roiling deep within underneath your calm facade. 

You packed in silence, Gavriel’s stare burning into your side as you avoided interaction. You had just finished packing and dismantling your tent when Rowan and Elide returned, their eyes lit with a similar wired determination as your own. 

Pine green eyes locked with yours, an unspoken understanding passing between you and Rowan - that the two of you would allow the world to burn to ash before you would allow it to take your mates.

“We’re leaving for Doranelle,” Rowan announced, brooking no room for questions before he helped load your and Elide’s bags onto horses. Giving Rowan a sharp nod, you followed suit, gathering necessities for the journey. 

The dying embers of the campfire the only trace of your existence in the forest, your group headed for Doranelle, Rowan letting out a cry as he shifted into hawk form, soaring above as you journeyed below. The day passed mostly in silence, tensions thick between you and your father, and Elide and Lorcan. 

At your request, Elide explained in brief detail why you were headed towards one of Maeve’s strongholds. She and Rowan had come across one of Maeve’s soldiers at an inn, but the shudder that passed through her when you asked for more told you all that you needed to know about how Rowan acquired that information, and you let the conversation drop.

The sun had long since set when fatigue weighed heavy on your bones, head aching from lack of food and rest. Gavriel sensed it, his too-knowing eyes scanning your sluggish movements, the limp that Elide was trying to hide. 

“We will stop here for the night,” he spoke, low voice not allowing any arguments, not that you could form any. You practically crashed into the ground where you stood at his words, Elide settling next to you as Lorcan gathered kindling. 

There remained little talk among the group. You couldn’t speak for others, but you knew that if you tried to speak, emotions would burst forth like water through a broken dam, the carefully maintained mask of strength you were wearing to be shattered into pieces. Gavriel, Lorcan, and Elide mumbled their good nights, while you and Rowan sat by the fire. 

The twisting, flickering flames held your attention in a captivating dance, the only distraction you could find from the constant agony you felt throughout your body, the unbearable weight of your mate’s pain echoing in each fiber of your soul.

You dared a glance at Rowan, his sharp eyes moving from the fire towards you. You supposed the fire meant something different to him - a reminder of his other half, the closest thing he had to her in this moment. It was a different kind of pain, but one that you could understand as the others did not.

“Do you feel her, too?” you managed, voice cracking through the strained whisper. Rowan’s brow dipped, confusion flickering across his features before understanding settled. 

“No,” he choked, and you worried that you had said the wrong thing. “No, I cannot feel her through the bond. I think whatever  But I know she is there, she is alive. That much I can feel.” A shaky breath escaped you, eyes lining with silver as you curled into your body, gaze focused back on the flames in front of you.

“Can you? Feel him?” Rowan pressed, voice soft as the night breeze. Your eyes squeezed shut, the only hope you had to keep those tears from falling, but one escaped, cold warm against your chilled skin as it traced your cheek.

“Yes,” you breathed, a sob building in your lungs as you gasped for air. “Yes, I feel everything. I feel his pain, I feel his loneliness, I-“

Words were stolen from your lungs as your chest seized, inexplicable pain, grief, bringing you to your knees. You were vaguely aware of Rowan’s presence, a warm hand on your back as sobs wracked your body. Wave after wave of grief and shame barreled into you, body shaking with the force of emotions being thrust upon you.

“Breathe,” Rowan murmured, his hand on your back a grounding comfort as the emotions faded, a distinct numbness filling your senses. Emptiness consumed your being, the only reminder that you were still alive the flames in front of you. 

Silver hair illuminated in the firelight, moving into your vision as Rowan kneeled in front of you. “Can you say... what happened?” he breathed, fear in his eyes as he dared the question.

“He’s not... he isn’t dead,” you managed, the knot in your chest loosening slightly as Rowan visibly relaxed. “Something terrible happened, Rowan. If what I felt was only a small part of what Fenrys is feeling...” Whatever hold you had on your own emotions was lost in that moment, tears falling freely as you cried.

Another hand landed on your shoulder, and you looked up through blurry eyes to see your father watching you, heartbreak written on his features. On instinct, you crashed into him, throwing your arms around Gavriel’s neck, breathing in his comforting scent. 

Conversations were happening in the background - Lorcan and Elide apparently also wakened by your cries - but you held onto your father, finding a small piece of solace in having him here.

Gavriel’s hand lifted, a canteen handed to him which he brought to your hands. “Here, drink this,” he murmured, tawny eyes observing carefully as your shaky hands gripped the vessel. Forcing small sips of water down your throat, breathing came easier, and you noticed Rowan, Lorcan, and Elide all standing nearby. 

“I’m not going to stay the night,” Rowan said, moving back towards where you sat. “If you want to rest, Gavriel will stay with you and Elide. But if you-“

“I’m going with you,” you interrupted. Rowan merely nodded, as thought your response was exactly what he expected. Lorcan was already moving, packing and loading supplies as Rowan’s power suffocated the fire.

You walked in line with Gavriel, leaves and sticks crunching under your boots as owls hooted against the still-darkened sky. “I can feel him, still,” you murmured, eyes downcast at your scuffed, muddied shoes. “I feel him, but it’s different than before. He’s... hollow. It’s like this numbness, and I can’t reach his end of the bond, so I don’t know if he can feel me.” 

Your eyes burned with tears you were too drained to shed when Gavriel grabbed your hand, turning you to stop and look up at him. “Do not give up. I know it hurts, I know what Maeve is capable of. But please, be better than me. Fight for Fenrys. He deserves that. You deserve that. And we will find him, and Aelin.”

Pushing up on your toes, you placed a kiss to your father’s cheek, your eyes never leaving his as you spoke. “You did the right thing. I have already mourned a childhood without you, but I’ve been allowed to know you now, and I am so thankful for a father as selfless as you, who was willing to sacrifice seeing his children grow to keep us safe. You didn’t give up, and I will not either.”

You both turned, heads snapping forward towards the road ahead as Gavriel cleared his throat, eyes shining with emotion as you continued the rest of your walk in silence.

By the time you arrived in Doranelle, your feet hurt like never before, entire body sore from long travels and lack of sleep. Your group hid in the trees just outside the main road through town. Elide turned to you, a fire in her eyes that lit one in your chest. 

“The males are too recognizable, so you will all stay out here and keep a low profile while I go into town. I’m going to see if anyone has information about Cairn’s location, because we know he’s with Aelin and Fenrys.”

You shook your head. “I’m coming with you. You’re not going alone into town, and it would be suspicious if you were by yourself.” You looked around, Lorcan giving you a grateful smile while Gavriel opened his mouth as if to argue. Before he could say anything, you took Elide’s hand and set off towards town.

Doranelle was bustling, people shopping and selling throughout the streets, men calling for your attention as the two of you walked at a brisk pace, eyes and ears open for any sign of danger.

Multiple groups of people shuffled in the same direction, your gaze following their movements towards a pub that appeared to be full of travelers and locals alike. “That’s where we should go,” you murmured to Elide, her dark eyes joining yours as she studied the tavern’s entrance.

Releasing your hand, Elide led the way into the building, instructing you to take a seat wherever you could find one as she took the lead. You found a small booth, thankful for the weight off your feet and even the rancid beer a barmaid slid your way.

It was pure entertainment, a respite from the hellish reality you had been living lately, as you watched Elide put on a show of the helpless maiden. Batting her long lashes, giving shy smiles, she wrung any information she could from the tavern’s patrons while you kept watch.

Everyone seemed taken by her story, the heartbroken lover of Maeve’s general, except for one female. She lounged at one of the tables, chestnut brown eyes watching Elide with a keen, quiet interest. And then Elide mentioned Cairn.

A hush fell over the room, the mood instantly sobering at the mention of the newest member of Maeve’s cadre. Expressions turned cold, even sour as people closed themselves off to Elide’s charm. They definitely knew something, and as you watched Elide excuse herself to the washroom, you caught the striking female with chestnut eyes from before stand up quickly, dark brown hair flowing around her as she turned and followed Elide down the hall.

You were quick behind her, dagger sheathed discreetly at your side. Using your blade, you wedged open the door to the washroom to find Elide wide-eyed, tension thick in the air as she and the female stared at each other. 

Your blade quickly found the female’s neck, your foot kicking the door shut behind you. “Who are you, and what do you know?” you questioned, voice lethally calm.

The female didn’t struggle, her demeanor relaxed as she spoke. “My name is Essar. I mean no harm - I simply wanted to warn your friend to stay away from Cairn. But it appears she is better protected than I believed.” 

Her voice remained calm as she dared to turn towards you, unbothered at how your blade dug further into her skin. “Why do you look for Cairn, truly?”

Your gaze hardened on Essar, assessing the trustworthiness of this new character. “That would depend. What is he to you?” you asked, releasing her so slightly from your hold.

A scoff escaped her lips, nearly a slight laugh as though your question was absurd. “He is nothing to me. And Maeve is less than nothing,” she ground out, venom lacing her tone. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips at her spite. 

“We have business to attend to regarding Cairn,” you murmured, gaze flicking towards the door to check it was closed. 

A knowing gleam shone in Essar’s eyes. “You have Gavriel’s eyes,” she whispered, clearing her throat as she studied you and Elide. “Cairn is at the camp just north of town. He was seen there this morning.”

It was an effort to not let your surprise show, but somehow you knew that you could trust Essar. Hope sprang in your chest, as though the bond was confirming Fenrys was close. “Thank you,” you murmured, to Essar, hand reaching for the doorknob as you gestured for Elide to follow.

“Give them Hell,” Essar said, chin raised proudly. You gave her a final nod of thanks before slipping out the door. Elide could barely keep up with your pace as you raced through town, back to the edge of the woods where the males waited. Now that you knew where Fenrys was, nothing could hold you back from finding him.

You were both short of breath, struggling to explain all that Essar had shared with you at the tavern. “I believe her,” you said, looking to Rowan and Gavriel for validation. But it was Lorcan whose eyes grew soft as you spoke of the female you had met, the other males looking to Lorcan for only a brief moment before Rowan cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

“We can trust her,” he said. “I’ll take to the skies. You follow my lead - we’ll walk around town to avoid running into Maeve’s soldiers for now.”

Heart pounding in your chest, you watched as Rowan launched into the air, your group quietly following the path of the hawk as it led you around the edge of town. Sounds of soldiers running drills, sparring, blacksmiths at work all filled your ears as rows and rows of tents came into view. 

Breath caught in your lungs, the twist of hope and fear electric as it shot through your body. A warm hand wrapped around yours, and you looked down as Gavriel gave it a comforting squeeze. “I am with you,” he whispered.

Words evaded you, but you managed to nod to your father - a silent acknowledgment: "I am with you, too."

Scanning the grounds of the camp, you searched for a way in. There were too many tents, too many places Fenrys and Aelin could be. But your thoughts were interrupted by the bloody cry of a hawk, and before your mind could catch up to your body, you found yourself running, sword drawn, towards the center of camp where Rowan flew.

Soldiers charged you, your adrenaline pumping as you cut them down one by one. Red flooded your gaze as you saw a shell of a female, weighed in familiar iron shackles as she stumbled out of a tent on thin legs. 

Blood pounded in your ears, the faint sound of Lorcan yelling at your side all that you could register as Aelin ran towards you. You couldn’t stop the flow of tears as you locked eyes with your cousin through the iron mask she wore, heart somehow shattered and whole at the sight of her, alive yet broken.

“Fenrys,” she choked. “Fenrys!” Aelin’s voice cried. She whipped around like a wild animal caught in a trap, yelling at Rowan and Lorcan, pleading for them to find your mate. 

You rose to chase after him, but Rowan’s pleading look settled that rage within you - he would find your mate while you protected his. And so you watched him run through the camp with Lorcan, a beautiful storm of chaos as the warriors partnered seamlessly in battle. 

The clanking of chains pulled you from your daze, Aelin scratching at her binds. “Take it off take it off take it OFF,” she screamed, voice hoarse as she chanted violently. Rowan appeared by her side, his hands working as they tried to find an opening on the mask. Rowan.

Your eyes went wild, an unexplainable ache carving itself into your chest as you stood, spinning clumsily while you searched for any sign of Fenrys. The sight of white fur on the ground, Gavriel leaning over the wolf who lay, covered in blood and barely breathing snapped something within you. 

As your father gave you a helpless look, the world cleaved in two, as though half of your soul was ripped from your chest. Collapsing to the ground, your hand wove in Fenrys’s fur as onyx eyes gazed at you, unblinking. 

There was no room in your heart for more tears at this point. Everything had been taken from you - so you lay there, watching the last hope you had for a future, for love, as he faded away.

You didn’t head the commotion behind you as Rowan managed to break the Wyrd marks locking Aelin’s chains, how she crawled weakly to Fenrys’s side across from you. The words, “live, Fenrys. Live,” echoed through your head, Aelin’s voice like a helpless prayer.

And then he blinked. Gold flecks shone in his eyes, chest rising slowly as your mate released a soft whine. Your heart burst with joy, love pouring from your end of the bond as you were finally able to reach Fenrys.

Your hand reached out to him just as he shifted into his human form, long blonde curls fallen across his beautiful face as he stared at you. “Is this real?” he rasped, and you nodded, a broken laugh escaping as you sat up, pulling Fenrys’s head into your lap as his hands found yours, holding onto them like a lifeline.

“He’s gone,” Fenrys whispered, his gaze distant. You felt it then - the hollow feeling, the numbness you had felt through the bond. “Connall,” he murmured, eyes finding yours as a tear rolled down his cheek, and you understood. Fenrys had lost a part of himself - Maeve had taken so much from your mate.

“I will kill her,” you vowed. 

Fenrys’s hand lifted to brush your cheek. “You were my hope. The only strength I found to keep going.” 

Taking his hand from your cheek, you pressed a kiss to his palm. Flames danced in your eyes. “For what she did to you, to Connall, to Aelin. She will burn.”

Author’s Note: I took a break from this series and don’t know if a part 4 will happen. Sorry to disappoint anyone, but there are no immediate plans for this series to continue.

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