#lucien and elain fanfic

[utterlyotterlyx]

Sweet Creature

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - The bond snaps after a rather brutal breakup, and after witnessing you with another Vanserra, Azriel is trying to find a way to avoid being hurt once again.

Warnings - fluff, angst, pining, swearing, unrequited love, heartbreak, sad Az, happy ending (yay!)

Word count - 8.4k (oops)

Based on this ask

It had become so intense in the House of Wind that you had little to no choice in moving yourself to the River House. Between Nesta and Cassian's bustling sex life and the constant bickering arguments between Azriel and Elain, you decided that you needed some peace.

And fast.

Rhys had welcomed you at the door that day, his sort-of sister in arms surrounded by brown leather bags that he could almost envision you launching down the House of Wind steps just to escape as fast as possible. Flipping him off and smirking at his chuckle, you slipped around his form stood in the doorway and headed right to Nyx who was more than thrilled to see you, babbling incoherently and grabbing for you the moment you were in eyeshot.

"I take it that it's getting a bit loud over there?" Rhys turned to you, his shirt half unbuttoned and hands burrowed into his pockets. He was lucky. To have a mate and a child. To not have to live with the band of animals currently residing in the Night Court's most opulent residence.

"How am I supposed to get anything done wedged between that lot?" Nyx smiled at your cooing, lapping up all of your love and affection, "I'd much rather be here with my favourite prince."

Within minutes, your bags were taken upstairs by Rhys who was grumbling to himself about never being able to have any peace to which you blissfully quipped that you'd be out of his hair the moment he bought you a lavish apartment in the city. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford it after all.

Your position within the Inner Circle was irreplaceable. Not only were you Rhys' childhood best friend, the only one he could truly depend on before Cassian and Azriel flew into the picture, but you were also known as a witch. A powerful celestial being that had the capability to destroy and create as you saw fit with an affinity to sky and water magic.

The scales could have tilted in the wrong direction had you truly taken up Amarantha's offer to be her pet, the only reason you had confined yourself to that chamber Under The Mountain was to make sure that Rhys survived, and you played your part well, just as you always had.

A break was needed, the air in the House of Wind was almost suffocating, and no amount of your power was able to drown it. Elain was spending more time with Lucien, her mate, and Azriel was not happy about it considering that they were meant to be in a committed relationship. The barking insults and shouting had become too much to bare, so intense that your own power was itching for release in order to silence them for at least a couple of minutes.

"They're going to break up, aren't they?" Rhys certainly wouldn't be the first to tell Azriel I told you so, but he'd certainly be thinking it when the Shadowsinger would inevitably return to the River House just like you had to escape the nightmare of his life.

Humming softly, sadly, you looked up at Rhys, your godson in your arms resting his head on your chest, "I think so. Az hasn't been himself lately."

It was true, your friend had become a shell of himself, wallowing in self-loathing and doubt, and you cursed Elain eternally for turning him into such a thing. How anyone could hurt Azriel was beyond your scope of realisation, he was perfect in every way, devoted, kind, caring, and definitely a force to be reckoned with in the bedroom if your ears served you right.

Being attracted to Azriel was a natural bodily response, you had told yourself at least, it was difficult to not want to jump the bones of the illustrious Shadowsinger who kept a watchful eye on your every step. Like he was waiting for his moment to swoop in and save you.

But you had never needed saving, and you never would.

Elain and you had never really gotten along, it wasn't as though you hadn't tried to be friendly with the Made sister, she just couldn't stand to be around you. Maybe her own abilities clashed with yours, perhaps she was terrified of you. You couldn't blame her, the idea of you was one that stalked travellers and gifted nightmares to the young.

A celestial witch. In the flesh.

Anyone who knew you well enough would be able to dispel any wrongful intent, but Elain was not one of those people.

"I did warn him," Rhys' finger drifted to hook itself around Nyx's outstretched hand, and he shook it gently as he continued on, "A mating bond is not something to get entangled with."

"Az needs us to be his friends right now, Rhys. A breakup on its own is awful, but when it's so close, when he's been waiting so long for it, it's bound to hurt."

A firm hand on your shoulder comforted you, you knew how tough it must be for Azriel to go through it, after how painful it was to hold out hoping that he would be enough to suddenly not be, "I know, Witchling," you scoffed at the nickname as you always had and always would, Rhys pressed a dainty kiss into your hair, like a brother to a newly born sister, "Whatever he needs, I'm here, and so are you."

If you had known what awaited you that week, you'd take the telling words back in a second.

Like you had guessed, Azriel moved back into the River House, residing in his own room across the hall from your own. And boy, was he a raincloud if you ever did see one. Even his shadows looked solemn, and they didn't have faces. Azriel looked positively awful, constantly messy hair, large bags of onyx that imprinted onto the skin beneath his usually warm hazel eyes that had turned into nothing but dark pools of heartbroken sadness.

In the night, you had heard him crying, you'd stood outside of his door, not saying a word, but hoping that he knew that someone was there for him even if he didn't want them to be.

You had tried to talk to him, to coax him out of his haze by offering to train with him, or walk with him along the banks of the Sidra, you'd even asked him if beating your ass whilst you wore a mask of Lucien would bring a smile to his face. Unfortunately, everything you had tried had failed you, and you were at a loss as to help your friend.

"Honestly Rhys, how do you reach anything in here?" Rhys was hovering in the doorway, eyebrow raised with delight as he watched you try and scale the countertops to reach the top shelf of the cupboard.

There were chocolate chips for your cookies up there, and they had your name all over them.

"It's not my fault you're not Illyrian," his eyes darkened into a smirk, "Why don't you just hop onto your broomstick and fly?"

Even a silent Azriel emitted a gasp from his place on the opposite side of the centre island. If there was one thing you hated, it was being likened to the witches children sang about in their storybooks. It offended you how utterly unalike you were, and it made you seethe when someone, usually Rhys or Cassian, would use that hatred to rile you up.

"Oh," you stood on the countertop, towering over the High Lord by a few mere inches, "Is that why all of the doorways are so wide? Because your fat fucking head needs all the room it can get?"

Rhys stood speechless before you, the room fell silent.

Then a laugh.

Not yours of Rhys', you had to check it wasn't you making any noise before your eyes landed on the owner of the most joyful thing you'd heard in weeks.

A smile. Curled parted lips as a howling laugh ripped through them. Azriel's shadows danced to the sound, and his body shook with it. You could have cried, but you kept it together, you choked down your happiness to witness the momentary return of the one who meant the most to you.

It was no secret that you used to be Azriel's favourite. There was nothing that the two of you wouldn't do together, even if it was a medial task like taking you to the bakery or finding you a new Starfall dress that would make Mor dim in comparison. Azriel was always happy to come along. Until Elain, and then you had stopped seeing another, you'd drifted so far apart that he didn't even properly greet you anymore, all you were adorned with was a curt nod and tight lipped smile before Elain would whisk him away.

The male in front of you was nothing like that one, not in that singular glimmer of hope at least. Once his laughter died down, and a serene smile planted itself on his lips, Azriel opened his eyes and moved them to you, they glowed with something you couldn't quite understand, and then they widened. His eyes faltered. His smile faded.

Azriel gasped.

"Mate."

Darting your line of sight to Rhys, you pointed at him, flickering your gaze back to Azriel who had rose from his seat "Him?"

Rhys swatted your finger away, "I'm mated, y/n," Rhys glanced between you and took a step backward.

"So?" It couldn't be. Not right now. Not now.

"I can't do this," Azriel was struggling to breathe, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, sweat beaded at his brow and his skin had paled.

Scrambling down from the worktop, you went to take a step toward him, one that he mirrored in the opposing direction, furling his wings behind his back and clawing his shadows into submission, "Don't, Az. I can go."

The visible wince of pain that shot through you was enough for Azriel to suck in a breath and disappear from sight. The bond was dull, a golden thread soaring across the night sky to meet a shield of inked darkness. Azriel had closed you off. Shut you out.

Silence befell the kitchen, the chocolate chips you had gotten from the top shelf now scattered across the dark oak wood beneath your bare feet. Rhys had never seen you cry, he almost thought it impossible, but then he saw that single tear roll down your cheek, he could feel the pain radiating from you from finding your mate for him only to run from you.

"Hey, it's alright," he wrapped you into his arms, shushing you softly as he ran his fingers through your hair to soothe the quiet sobs rattling your shoulders, "It's going to be fine, y/n. Azriel's just confused, he'll be thrilled soon. Just you wait."

The snap had been gentle, like you had just come home after a long day, like you'd stepped through the door to see everyone you had ever loved all in one place and he was at the epicentre of it. Safe. Warm. Perfect.

Being a witch, you were never sure how life would look for you. Not even the cauldron understood your kind, you had always thought that perhaps the cauldron overlooked your species for the things most pure, like mating bonds and children. Witchlings were rare, you were the lone example of it, perhaps a part of you thought that you weren't allowed to have any love or joy, that you weren't good enough for it.

And there it was right in front of you, with the male a part of you had always yearned for, dancing in ash.

In the weeks that followed, Azriel did all he could to avoid you. No reason was good enough to make Azriel even glance in your direction let alone utter anything to you.

It had gotten to the point where you had asked Rhys for the keys to the cabin, you packed up your things and stepped through time to stand on that cold wooden floor with moonlight drifting through the small square windows.

You’d never thought that you could ever feel so alone, but as you stood there in a cabin so cold that you could see your own breath, the loneliness certainly began to set in.

There was little else to do other than light a fire to warm the little cabin on the outskirts of the city and run a bath; the tub was surrounded by candles, the ottoman at the foot of it was full of scented oils and salts which made your heart flutter. At least if you were to wallow in your own heartbreak you’d be able to do it smelling like the ocean surrounded by candlelight.

Bubbles crept up your neck as you sank into the wooden tub, it should have been a tranquil moment for you, but it was far from it in reality.

Az, please. Just talk to me. I'm still y/n, I'm still your friend. Things don't have to change.

Instead of enjoying the alone time like you should have considering that it was rare to have a minute of peace in a city full of needy children, you sat and let your mind wonder just how everything had gotten so messed up. You understood his confusion, really, you did, you understood how conflicting it must have been for him to separate with Elain, the female he was ready to spend the rest of his existence with, to then find out he was mated to you, not just you as his friend, but you as a witch.

Talk to me.

Too many tears had been spilled, you couldn't stop them from flowing from your eyes each time Azriel would fumble some excuse to get away from you. The bond was cold, it was like trying to break through a shield, an icy 10 foot deep floor that wouldn't even crack under whatever you would throw at it.

If you need me to leave then I will, Az. I'll leave for you, so you can have space, so you can think.

In the weeks that followed the revelation, you'd done all you could to try and get through to him, to let him know that you weren't expecting him to accept it, that he could take all the time he needed to process everything before speaking to you, all you needed was a sign that he was listening to you, that you mattered. It didn't surprise you that Azriel hadn't exactly thought about you in the predicament, of what it had done to you, and you couldn't even be angry at him over it because you'd be the same.

It didn't mean that it didn't hurt though.

Dark skies littered with blinking starlight was cast overhead, too beautiful to be real, too beautiful that you were sure that it was some kind of abstract painting on a black canvas. The cabin used to be one of your favourite places, Azriel and you used to escape there frequently, spending nights upon nights drinking Rhys' best wine and talking about everything and nothing.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from the memories, your eyes drifted to the clock softly ticking on the wall and you frowned, it was quite late. Lifting yourself from the tub, you wrapped a towel around your frame and padded over to the door, your wet footprints embedding themselves in the wood below. Slight disappointment sliced through you when you opened the door to see Mor, Nesta and Feyre on the deck shivering in the brisk breeze.

"We brought supplies," Nesta pushed past you, placing a wicker basket on the table and shrugging off her coat, "By supplies I mean wine, wine, and more wine."

Mor and Feyre entered, sniffing the air with soft smiles, they had always loved your scent, it was peaceful, like ocean waves lapping against the side of a mountain at dusk, airy, blissful, fresh.

The news had spread around the Inner Circle rather quickly thanks to Rhys, he had told Cassian, and well, Cassian wasn't exactly known for holding his tongue. The Lord of Bloodshed had apologised to you, feeling guilty for making things worse between you and Azriel, but you didn't mind. All you wanted was for the Shadowsinger to simply look at you. Anything else was a pointless worry. Not worth your time.

Tugging the towel tighter around your frame, you forced a smile, "This is really nice. Thank you."

Strangely, both Nesta and Feyre had been surprisingly supportive of the bond between you and Azriel. To them it made sense, you had been friends for over 500 years, you both struggled with fitting in, and you only felt truly comfortable to let your walls down around one another. To them, the bond had been there for a long time, waiting for the perfect moment. Too bad that the perfect moment had ended up making feel like the most worthless creature on the planet.

"Has he let you in yet?" Nesta rested her hand on your shoulder, her other hand was busy handing you a goblet of wine which you hugged closely to your chest and shook your head, "I'm sorry y/n. I really thought he would have by now."

"Give it time. He'll come around," Feyre draped her cloak over the arm of one of the dining chairs, smoothing out her skirt. It had always astounded you just how perfect they all were, the Archeron sisters that is, it was hard to understand how any male couldn't be attracted to them. They were quite heavenly.

"You've all been saying that for weeks," you shrugged off Nesta's hand, exasperated, "If anything he's become colder. Azriel doesn't acknowledge me, he looks right through me, he finds any reason possible to not be in the same room as me and when he sees me in the halls he turns on his heels and runs."

"I'm now living in this damned cabin hoping that some space will help him," your shoulders dropped, "I've waited my entire existence for this, I started to think that I wasn't worthy of it, and when it happened and the bond snaps with the one person I know that I could be truly happy with," your bottom lip wobbled slightly, but you choked it down and swallowed hard, "He ran."

Mor leaned forward in her seat, wide eyes under her perfectly sculpted furrowed brows, "It has nothing to do with you, y/n."

"How am I supposed to believe that when he won't even look at me?"

Something thick and fluffy draped over you, Nesta's robe that you always eyed was resting on your shoulders, "Go and get in your comfy clothes, then we can talk and bitch until all you feel is anger."

Amongst the chatter, you spied the three leather bags full to the brim of differing clothes and cosmetics, and then you realised that you weren't alone, not really, not when those three bags of clothes and trinkets belonged to the three females in the cabin with you, clearly ready to move in and stay with you until you were ready to face life again.

Who needed a man when you had three raging bitch queens?

Nesta was right, you just had to get back to work.

If anything was going to be able to distract you from that aching in your chest, then it would be work.

Luckily, Rhys, whilst he loved your abilities greatly, saw you as much more than just a celestial witch residing in his court, he likened you to a sister, blood family, which meant that he trusted no one more than you to act on his behalf when it came to court politics.

Holding such a position meant that you were rather close with the High Lords, they never saw you as Rhys' lackey at all, they saw you as a being that cared greatly about the continent who would stop at nothing to ensure harmony in all jurisdictions. Such a role meant that you were also required to entertain the High Lords whenever they visited Velaris, a place you had extended to them after the war to aid their research and better their own courts, with your help of course.

That particular evening, Rhys had asked you to entertain a certain High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra; he was visiting Lucien and his new mate, Elain, and the entire visit was putting Azriel on edge. So, naturally, you couldn't say no.

"I always love our dinners, y/n," Eris' whisky amber gaze burned into you, searching the supernatural speckles in your own.

It was no secret that Eris had a flame for you, a being he found intriguing beyond belief, in the grasp of the Night Court when Eris knew how much you would thrive in Autumn by his side. The High Lord had offered Rhys pretty much everything he could to try and convince him to let him near you. All attempts had been swiftly denied.

Plates were littered with blotches of sauce and chicken bones, two empty bottles of red had been disposed of long ago, and you were just about to order that sticky toffee slice that made your toes curl when Eris asked, "When were you going to tell me about you and Azriel, hm?"

Candlelight drifted over the side of his face, illuminating his eyes against the darkening backdrop. "What are you talking about?"

Eris smirked, swirling the second glass of your third bottle that evening in perfect circles in his palm, "Come on, y/n. You reek of him, that cedar scent that even I have to admit is rather interesting."

In all of your self wallowing and sudden busyness you hadn't realised that the scent of the mating bond lingered on you, entwining with your scent of blissful oceans to create something new, something drowning. Something suffocating.

"I can admit that the news did hurt me, just a little bit," Eris, since the war, had allowed his hair to grow out. It sat just below his shoulders, layered and playful, he had it lazily pulled back low on his head. Something about that hair and those eyes made you question everything you knew, and you did know that you weren't the only one who felt like that when around the High Lord of Autumn.

Fluttering your lashes at Eris, you ran your fingers across the line of your bodice, "I apologise. It seems that fate wanted to lead me elsewhere."

Eris dismissed the waiter, eyes grinning at you through his lashes, "Let's go to Rita's. I need to drink some more, and you," he pointed to you, knowing that he was interrupting a rather important date with a rather important pudding, and said, "Need to loosen up, Witchling."

That fucking name.

You were sure that steam was emitting from your ears, but you couldn't deny that he was right, you couldn't really remember the last time you let loose and danced the night into oblivion. So you grabbed your purse from the table, a ornate gold cage that matched the intricate details of your skirt, and rose from your seat, "I hate how right you are, Vanserra. Let's go."

The High Lord towered over you, like all of them did really, stupid high fae and Illyrians and their stupid perfect genes making them so handsome and mysterious and utterly fuckable.

Stumbling from the restaurant at the edge of the Sidra, you looped your arm through Eris' and he practically had to pull you along the streets of the city or else you'd go and do a ritual in a field or something. Despite his crush, Eris found that part you a bit odd. In a way, you did too.

"When are you going to come to Autumn, Witchling? You know you'd love it there."

Eris propositioned you with the notion every time he saw you, he clearly thought that if he pestered you about it enough then you'd agree to it one day. Even just a fleeting visit would be enough to satisfy him. Just a day or two. You couldn't deny that Autumn piqued your interest, and with everything going on, perhaps a little break would do you some good.

"Maybe sooner than you think," despite the shameless flirting, you were glad that you could call Eris your friend, underneath that mask of loathing, you found the High Lord to be complex, and he appreciated your understanding. You were the only being that had ever approached him with kindness and treated him for who he truly was and not what he displayed. "All of this stuff with Azriel is spinning my mind. I feel like I'm going insane."

Eris hummed, tugging you a bit tighter into his side as he draped his arm over your shoulder, something completely platonic that you knew would send a certain someone spiralling, "That's what mating bonds do, y/n. I know that everyone keeps on telling you that he'll come around, I hope he does. Truly." It was the first time you had seen him say something and know that he was sincere of it "But, for tonight and tonight only, you are mine and we are going to drink and dance until we physically can't anymore, alright?"

Inhaling deeply, you met his gaze, "Alright."

Rita's was packed to the brim, you could feel the music thumping through the air so intensely that the ground beneath your feet was vibrating in time with the bass. Suddenly, you felt overdressed, but Eris commanded that you not think of it as he pulled you through the doors and past the guards who nodded at you with a curt smile as you clicked by.

In Velaris, you were quite known for being the wild one, the entire city was in awe of you and the powers you displayed so beautifully. More often than not, you would be found in the poorer parts of the city enchanting the children with your magic, curls of water would dance along their cheeks, and they would gasp when you would pluck a star from the sky and rest it in the palm of your hand. You knew what it felt like to feel alone and forgotten, being the last existing witch in your coven and all, and you didn't want anyone else to feel like that. So, if some water and a star would bring some form of happiness to those children, then you'd spend the rest of your life bringing them that wonder.

Eris tugged you through the grinding bodies, some of which parted as soon as they saw your eyes glistening in the lights, and stopped at the bar, shouting over the music to order drinks for you both before he turned, handing you a glass of what you could only assume was straight liquor, "To stealing you from the Night Court, Witchling," Eris raised his glass, rolling your eyes, you met it with a clink and wasted no time in downing the liquid, relishing in the burn that travelled down your throat and chest.

"Keep dreaming, Vanserra."

Hand on heart, Eris swayed into you, "Oh believe me, y/n, I do."

If you had known who was staring at you from across the room then you would have taken a step away from Eris, much like if you had seen the shadows followed you since you left the cabin that evening you wouldn't have agreed to go to Rita's. It was too late to do anything when your eyes connected with his, yours widened in surprise and solemn shock as his own narrowed, flickering between you and Eris before softening.

Of course, the first time Azriel actually looked at you was when you were stood beside Eris Vanserra, a High Lord, the brother of the one now laying with Elain.

Fuck.

It was like he didn't even see you really, he only saw Eris standing far too close to the one the cauldron had decided to be his mate. There was no way to be blind to the hatred between them, and with Azriel's temper and Eris' flare for the dramatics, you weren't surprised that Rhys had asked you to entertain the latter for the evening.

Noticing how your body froze, Eris frowned, he followed your line of sight to the Shadowsinger perched at a booth across the room ignoring both Cassian and Rhys who were trying to speak to him, to keep him calm.

Rhys. I didn't know.

I know, y/n. It'll be fine. We can handle Az if you can handle Eris.

Stiffly nodding, you turned to speak to Eris, to convince him to leave and find another place to drink, but he was gone. Then you saw his red hair moving through the crowd and you cursed, colourfully, and you scrambled through the crowd to try and reach him before he did something stupid.

Rushing up the steps to the usual booth reserved for the Inner Circle only, you stopped in your tracks as Eris' voice sliced through the chilled air, "When are you going to give our sweet y/n a break, Rhys? I keep on asking her to come to Autumn but she keeps on refusing."

Stop talking.

"It seems that she could use a break now more than ever."

Stop fucking talking.

"Especially since the bond is unrequited and she's sat in that little cabin day in day out wondering what her fate will be."

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you tugged on him, harshly, like you were reprimanding a dog on a leash, "Stop talking."

Little did you know, that one touch alone was enough to make Azriel visibly flinch and shudder with pain. That one act pierced his heart deadlier than Elain ever had or could, the way your fingers rested just over Eris' pulse, the way you looked at him with flame in your eyes, it was too much.

Eris wouldn't hurt you, you were the closest thing he had to a true friend, bit his loosened lips would be the end of you, "You both know that this isn't fair on her. Why is she the one who has to sit in misery and move to the outskirts of this city in order to make your poor Azriel more comfortable?"

Tension bubbled, Rhys was slowly rising from his seat whilst Cassian angled himself in front of Azriel, probably to stop the Shadowsinger from doing something he would come to regret, "Eris, you're making it worse," he finally gave you his attention, "Just wait outside for me, we can find somewhere else to drink, okay?"

It took him a moment, but your pleading eyes convinced him to listen, and Eris moved from your side, disappearing from you and leaving you stood before three Illyrians, all of which you were sure didn't wish to be around you in that moment. Fiddling with your fingers, you looked up from the ground at them, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were going to be here. You told me to keep him entertained, I'm sorry."

Rhys froze, his breath caught in his throat, and Azriel was glaring at him with such intensity that it made even you shrink, and you didn't shrink away from anything or anyone, "I'll go. I'm sorry," your chest ached when Azriel didn't even glance in your direction, instead keeping his gaze trained on his High Lord who simply nodded once at you.

Then you left, you grasped Eris by the lobe of his ear and dragged him away from Rita's before Azriel could make him pay for his words, or even worse, Rhys. It took only a few blocks for Eris to swat your hand away, "I'm not a child, y/n." Eris rubbed the red tinged patch of skin at his ear with a pout.

Velaris watched on as you bundled down a cobbled path toward the bank of the Sidra, a place you went to often to channel your magic, it was serene and beautiful, and had been the perfect place for you to find your calm in the midst of such brutality, "That is my mate, Eris. Do you understand that? Azriel is going through so much already, he lost Elain to Lucien," Eris cocked his brow in warning but you continued, "Elain was meant to be the one for him, and as long as Az was happy then I could choke down everything I had ever felt for him because he deserved all of the happiness possible after everything he's been through. I could live alone for the rest of my days as long as he was happy. Then it turns out that he's mine, that he was always meant to be mine, it should have been the best day of our lives," tears pooled on your bottom lids and you were sick of it, of crying, you had never cried, it wasn't in your nature but it was all you could do these days.

"Azriel can't even look at me, I had to move out of the River House and isolate myself from everyone I love just to give him a moment to think and process everything," you turned to Eris, "You just had to prod him, didn't you? You just had to get under his skin. Do you know how this looks? Elain chose Lucien and then he sees me drinking with you?"

Eris ran a hand over his face and sighed, "I didn't mean to make things difficult, y/n. I just want what's best for you, what you deserve."

"I know and I appreciate that, I really do. I just wanted things to get better, not worse."

It astounded Eris how Azriel wasn't over to moon to have you as his mate, you were elegant and graceful, a formidable opponent, tactical and sharp, and one of the most beautiful creatures to ever walk under the skies of Prythian. Perhaps he could have been a touch more sensitive to the situation at hand.

The moonlight waltzed over the rippling waters of the Sidra which acted as a mirror to the sky above, clear and bright, full of possibility.

The bond strained in your soul, empty and unrequited, a lone dying ember searching for its flame, and you knew then that Azriel was going to pull away from you more than ever.

"You should go back to the House of Wind," your voice was small and weak, "I'll see you before you leave tomorrow."

Eris took a step toward you, fumbling, knowing that he had messed up, "Please, y/n."

"Eris," he paused his movements, "Just go. I'll see you tomorrow."

Knowing that nothing was going to change your stubborn mind, Eris retreated up the embankment and down the cobbled path, leaving you completely and utterly alone.

Pebbles brushed together under your weight, moving flat to accommodate your position. You hugged your knees to your chest, unclasping your heels and tossing them aside, rubbing the skin on your ankles softly to alleviate the pinching that was once there.

How long could you go like this? How long would be able to deal with the rejection before it broke you? How long until you took Eris up on his offer and left Velaris forever?

You didn't have much time to think of an answer, not when a familiar cool pressure coiled at the small of your back, travelling up your spine and over your shoulders. The shadows drifted through your hair and you smiled sadly at them, at the sweet sign to tell you that you weren't alone.

"How did you find me?"

A shuffle sounded from behind you, shoes scraping along the pebbles, "This is our place. Where else would you go?"

You turned then, peering over your shoulder at him, examining him for a moment. Azriel certainly looked better, his eyes had lightened by a couple of hues and his skin was healthy an tanned to perfection, though, sadness and doubt still lingered in his eyes.

Silently cursing yourself, you turned back to the water. It was yours and Azriel's place, it always had been, until Elain came along that is and then it became your place. Whenever either of you had a bad day, the other would bring them there, to listen to the water rushing up on the rocks and watch the stars, and you'd talk, about anything that was bothering you and causing you any pain, and then suddenly you'd be alright again.

You rose from the ground, brushing little fragments of twigs and dirt from the golden swirls of your skirt, and Azriel gazed at you as you did, wondering how his best friend had become a stranger so quickly, "If I had known you were there tonight I wouldn't have taken him."

"I know," Azriel had his hands bundled into his pockets, afraid that if they lingered at his side then he would reach for you and risk a whole other world of pain, "I think we need to break the bond."

The world stopped moving.

"What?"

Azriel repeated, "I think we need to break the bond."

Break the bond.

It writhed in your chest, it writhed in pain and sorrow, striking you so deeply that you thought you may stop breathing, "I can't do it again. I can't be broken like this again, not with another Vanserra, not with anyone."

Thumping in your chest, your heart cried out, lurching around in its cage, and you struggled to form any words, "Az-"

"It's what's best for us, y/n."

No. No, no, no.

"How can you say that?" Azriel frowned, his hazel orbs softening, like he too was in pain, "I have done everything I can to give you space to process this, I moved out of our home, twice, to give you space to process whatever you need to process and feel whatever it is that you need to feel. I have gone 500 years being perfectly content of being your friend and that alone, because that was better than not having you at all. I stood by and watched you pine for Mor, and then her, the one who put such a wedge between us that I was reduced to polite hellos and nods. But I dealt with it, for you and your happiness. I dealt with all of the comparisons and pain, I dealt with the punishment of your feelings for her. I would deal with every ounce of hatred you throw at me if it meant that you would feel better, hoping that one day you'd realise that I have always been here for you, that I have always loved you in ways that no one else ever could."

You were pacing up and down the riverbank, pebbles knocking together as you walked, and Azriel stood before you unmoving, unknowing of what to say and only knowing that he needed it to end, "You never even gave it a chance," your choked whisper put him on edge.

Azriel had never seen you cry, had never heard of it happening, clearly Rhys had negated to tell him just how deeply the last few weeks had impacted you. To the point where you had actually cried. Tears gathered at your bottom lids and he noticed how you looked up at the sky to prevent them from falling.

"You never let me in."

Everything within Azriel was screaming at him to reach for you, the bond that he had frozen in place behind a wall of shadow was battering against the shield like a ram to break free and comfort you.

You were right, you had been his best friend, one of the few he could ever really depend on for everything. Elain had never liked you, she had always blamed it on her abilities not being able to harmonise with your own, but Azriel had always known it was deeper than that. Elain was a seer, and somehow it hadn't dawned on Azriel just how much she could have been hiding.

Elain hated it when he spent time with you, and being as in love as he was, he believed that it was down to some strange jealously that lingered on the surface. No one would have blamed Elain for her jealousy, you were truly a sweet creature, the other half to his marred coin that he had so carelessly tossed away. What if Elain had seen something and had chosen to lead Azriel away from you in order to preserve what she wanted them to share?

"I've given you everything I can," you sounded utterly defeated, "I don't know what else to do, Azriel."

His name was like a sonnet on your lips, one of heart-breaking sadness and longing, and he stepped to it, his shadows swirled around his body and drifted out to you. They had always adored you. They had always sought after you, a stark difference to their hiding from Elain.

"I would ruin you, y/n. You deserve so much more, so much better than me," his fingers twitched for you, he was so close yet so far from holding you, from inhaling the coconut scent of your shampoo and the scent of your soul, of soft salted breezes and jasmine, "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted you to feel like you weren't worthy of love, and I'm so sorry for making you think that you were alone in the world," you had cocked your head to the side in question, "Rhys told me."

Azriel took another step forward, exhaling with relief when you didn't make a move to get away from him, "Love scares me. Elain had my heart in the palm of my hand and then crushed it, and then the bond snapped with you, with the one person I know would never hurt me, and I just couldn't risk it. I can't risk it. I can't risk being broken again, I can't risk hurting you."

All this time, when Azriel had been wallowing in the loss of Elain, of having to deal with her and Lucien's bond, he had completely neglected you, and your feelings. It was something you had never done to him, something you never could.

A gentle breeze flowed through the air, it carried your scent to him, and on inhaling it, he felt his entire body relax, he felt his aching disappear, and it was as though the world had gotten clearer. You turned away from him, hands folded over your chest and facing the river so that he couldn't see your tears, "I thought I was destined to be alone. The rules of your kind and the fae have never really applied to me, even the Cauldron doesn't understand me. I thought that it took the chance of love from me, but now I see that it was just some cruel joke."

Let her in. Feel her.

The shadows cooed to him, faintly, like a lullaby to a new-born babe.

"If it'll bring you peace," your voice broke, "Then break it. Break the bond. I'll find some other place to be."

Don't let her get away. Mate. She loves you. Love her. Let her in.

As though the world was tilting, Azriel let down that wall, he felt that bond slither over the seam of it to reach you, and then what he felt brought him to his knees.

Love. Wanting. Hope. Pain. Sorrow. Longing.

It consumed him with light, fighting off the demons that had been left to plague him, decimating them with the most pure substance in Prythian. Love.

When you heard his knees hit the ground you had turned and ran to where he knelt on the pebbles, meeting him as you slid onto your own, ignoring the stabbing into your skin, "Az? Are you alright? What's wrong?" You cupped his face in your hands and he felt each one of your fingertips flow life back into him.

The two tethers to the bond were dancing with one another, meeting in the middle and thrumming as two became one, turning dark skies into ones of bright sun and opulent warmth.

It was you. Sweet and fierce you. You who had always protected him, you who had always put him first even when he couldn't return it. You.

"Az? Talk to me, tell me what's happening. Do I need to call for Rhys? I'll get him right-"

Azriel stopped you before you could rise to your feet, the act of wrapping his fingers around your wrists enough to make your words vanish in your mouth, "You love me."

Settling into the space before him, knee to knee with him and his shadows itching to pull you closer, you didn't remove your hands from his, the feeling of it so powerful that it wiped all of your pain away, "I always have."

Walks along the Sidra. Visits to the bakery. The countless thoughtful gifts for Winter Solstice. The nights spent locked away in the cabin talking about dreams and fears.

Azriel's fingers drifted along your cheek before resting there, his thumb softly soothing the tightness in your jaw, "Why did you never say anything?"

"Because you deserve to be happy, even if it isn't with me," Azriel watched your bottom lip wobble, and that stream of love within him rippled with upset. His thumb moved to it, dragging across that plump flesh that he had always wondered of the taste.

Would you taste sweet or of lightly salted oceans? Of the air at dusk perhaps?

All he had ever chased was happiness, how foolish of him to be blind to the fact he had always had it within you.

"I think the only time I've ever truly been happy, at peace, has been with you. You've always felt like home," your eyes met and he offered you a small, genteel smile; his fingers moved to your hair, raking over your scalp and floating to rest on the small of your back, "I've missed you so much."

"You have?"

Azriel hummed in admittance, "The worst part of all of this was that I left the House of Wind to be near you, because I could be, nothing was in the way of us anymore, and I knew you'd be the only one patient enough to deal with me. It was selfish, but you've always been the rocks on which the ocean crashes, you've always been the one I can turn to without fear of judgement. You understand me."

"I can still be that person, Az. I can still be your friend."

Resting his forehead against yours, Azriel spoke lowly, like he had just awoken from slumber, "Do you know how hard it is for me to not take you back to that cabin right now and make you mine?" The carnal desire was dwelling within him, a rabid need that begged to be satisfied, "But you deserve better, y/n. Better than what I've done. So if you'll let me, I want to do this properly. I want to court you and make you feel like you're the only woman in the world, and when you're ready, not me, you, then you can accept it for the both of us. Because you deserve the magic of the bond more than me, you deserve this happiness."

"And if you don't want to, then that's fine. I can live with what I've done, and if you want to move to Autumn and find happiness there then I won't stand in your way. In no world would I ever stop you from finding love and passion and joy, because you deserve it y/n, you are everything that is beautiful in this world and then some. Every single part of you is destined for greatness, for a love so powerful that people drown in it."

"I hate what I've done to you, I hate that I've made you feel unworthy of a mating bond and I'll never forgive myself for it. But if you let me, I'd like to show you that I want this, that I want you, and you can decide for yourself if a life with me is something you want."

Silence fell between you but you didn't make a move to pull away, you knelt in place, peering up at him with your hands resting on his biceps, channelling the pulsing energy of the Sidra as it ebbed and flowed downstream, "A life with you is all I've ever wanted."

The bond glowed, golden and blinding, and Azriel was struggling to keep himself together as he basked in the ocean of your love and devotion, "Can I kiss you? Please?"

If he wasn't searching for it then he wouldn't have even noticed the tiniest hazed nod directed at him. Even the stars had stopped their flickering to focus on you, their most prized possession, the only one capable of harnessing their power and turning it into something blissful and good. It was why they chose you.

Closing the gap, Azriel tilted your head upward to give him better access to the lips that had often haunted his dreams; the scent of jasmine entwined with his own and he felt himself hold his breath as he closed that gap between you.

Your lips were as soft and warm as he had imagined them to be, they tasted of fresh saltwater and some kind of sweet fruit from the gloss you always wore that made them shimmer in any light. It stopped the world from turning for a moment, the universe watched on as Azriel sealed your fates. Moving his fingers from the small of your back to your neck and deepening the embrace of your lips, Azriel relished in the taste of you, in your warmth, in the way his soul sang and his shadows pulled you in closer to him. It was a feeling he had waited his entire existence for, one you had also yearned for.

Utterly magical. Soul consuming.

Everything made sense then. How everything you had both endured was meant to be, just so that you could end up entwined in that moment. All of the pain and sorrow, all of the false love and distance, all of the laughter and sweet memories, it was all worth it. It was worth every morsel of agony.

"Such a sweet creature. My sweet creature."

"Yours?" Azriel hummed, pressing dainty kisses to the tip of your nose and cheeks, and you closed your eyes to consume his touch and shuddered when his lips landed on your collarbone, caressing the skin there, "I think I could get used to that."

Authors Note

Hey besties!

I got very carried away with this - sorry if it's not great, these pain meds are really kicking my ass right now so I haven't even properly proof read this yet xo

Taglist

@crazylokonugget @fxckmiup @rogersbarnesxx @emryb

[imjustreadinglmao]

BLUE

Paring: Azriel x Reader, Lucien x platonic!Reader

Summary: After Azriel and Elain‘s courtship is revealed, their mates, Lucien and Y/N, are left to deal with the consequences. While fighting against Koschei and for Prythian‘s freedom, Y/N has to navigate her emotions and learn how to live with the heartbreak of a one sided mating bond. But what happens when long kept secrets are revealed and everything turns out differently than they thought?

PART I

word count: 3k

A/N: this is part 1 of BLUE. I changed the beginning a bit to fit the storyline. Please be nice this is my first fic :)

Warnings: light angst, unrequited love, mention of childhood trauma/ mention of ãbuse (not described)

part 2

I stir my black tea as Rhysand files through the report I handed him just seconds ago.

The steam from the tea rises, curling in delicate tendrils, carrying with it a sense of fleeting warmth that I desperately cling to.

Rhysand’s office is both grand and simple.

Bookshelves line the walls, filled with volumes on history, strategy, and magic. A fireplace to the right. Above it, a large portrait of Velaris shows the city bathed in a soft, ethereal glow. Feyre gifted it to him last starfall.

Heavy velvet drapes in shades of midnight blue frame the windows, ready to be drawn shut for privacy.

In the distance I can make out the mountains with their snow-capped peaks and the Sidra winding through the valley below.

“I have to say, I’m impressed you were able to convince Devlon so fast.”

I look up at Rhys and chuckle, the sound hollow to my own ears. “It does help if you threaten to cut his balls off and stake them to the wall for everyone to see.”

Rhys lifts a brow and barks out a laugh. “I see.”

I rarely go on missions anymore, choosing to work as an advisor for Rhysand.

Missions used to be exciting, but nowadays I prefer the comfort my room provides. The sense of security it brings is a balm to my soul, now more than ever.

I take this as a sign to stand up and lift my bag from the floor. I sling it over my shoulder and make my way to the door.

“Don’t forget tonight’s family dinner,” Rhysand calls after me. I don’t look back, just give him a thumbs-up and close his office door behind me.

As I make my way downstairs and through the foyer, I spot Lucien strapping on his sword. Presumably getting ready for training, he has always been an early riser.

“How did the mission go?” Lucien doesn’t need to look up to see that it’s me approaching.

I let out a sigh and rub my temples. “Good.” I stop beside him and flop onto the recamier right next to the front door. “Well, as good as paying the camps a visit can get.”

Lucien cracks a smile at that, his amber eyes twinkle with amusement. He knows exactly how difficult it is to convince Devlon of something he isn’t particularly fond of.

“Are you coming to the family dinner tonight?” I ask, my voice betraying a hint of reluctance.

Lucien sheaths his blade and nods. “Feyre will have my head if I don’t show up. I already missed the last one.”

I cringe at the mention of the last family dinner. The memory alone sends a sharp pang through my chest.

———————

I walk into the dining room, ready to face yet another family dinner. I spot Mor right away, radiant in her blood-red gown. The sight of her is always one of familiarity and comfort.

“Hey, got another one of those?” I point to the wine glass in her hand. She arches a brow and hands me one filled to the brim.

“Are we so exhausting that you need liquid encouragement to get through the night?” she muses. I just roll my eyes, trying to hide my amusement.

Right as she opens her mouth to say something, the back of my head begins to tickle. He is here.

I turn around to see Azriel walk through the door, and he is not alone. Elain is beside him, their hands intertwined.

Even though I was expecting it to happen soon, the sight still hits me like a physical blow. It was always just a matter of time till Azriel and Elain decided to go against Rhys‘s order and make their love official.

I‘m glad, Lucien isn’t here to witness this. I can’t imagine how it would be for him.

Since only my side of the bond snapped into place, seeing how in love they are, is somehow… manageable. For Lucien it would be almost deadly.

I look back at Mor, her expression as shocked as mine. “I didn’t know,” she whispers, her face now bearing a look of worry and pity.

To say the dinner is awkward would be an understatement. Nobody really knows what to say after Elain and Azriel walked in holding hands.

I just shove the potatoes on my plate around, too nauseous to eat anything. The lump in my throat makes swallowing impossible.

Cassian clears his throat and points to Azriel and Elain. “So how long has this been going on?” Nesta jabs her elbow into his ribs, which earns her an “oww”, and throws me an apologetic look.

Besides Mor, only Lucien and Nesta know about the bond between me and Azriel. Their concern a constant reminder of the bond I try so hard to ignore.

“Well…” Azriel coughs, noticeably uncomfortable with being put on the spot. “It all happened very quickly. We spent a lot of our nights up and talking and realized we didn’t want to hold back anymore.”

He gazes down at her, smiling. I recognize that look. The realization twists the knife in my heart.

That’s how I look at him.

—————————

“Are you even listening?” Lucien waves a hand in front of my face to snap me out of my haze. His voice pulls me back to the present, but the ache remains.

I rub my eyes. “Uh… sorry. What exactly were you saying?”

He crosses his arms and looks down at me. “I was asking if you wanted to go training with me. But it seems what you really need is some sleep.”

I roll my eyes and stand up. “You know me so well, Lu.” I pat his shoulder and walk out the door. “See you at dinner tonight.”

Velaris is most beautiful at night, but nothing can beat the quiet and peace of the early mornings.

I walk down the high street, greeting some of my favorite vendors with a smile, until I reach the familiar townhouse.

After I officially became part of Rhysand’s inner circle, he offered me to stay at his townhouse.

It had many perks: no rent, right in the heart of Velaris, and an endless wine supply thanks to Rhysand’s "secret" wine cellar.

There is really only one downside.

“I didn’t think you would be back so soon.” Azriel sits at the dinner table eating breakfast. He has his fighting leathers on, probably on his way to the House of Wind for Valkyrie training.

Cassian and Azriel still train the Valkyries every morning. Sometimes I join, but only when Nesta drags me up there.

“Well, sorry to disappoint.” I laugh awkwardly. “I’m going to head upstairs to rest. Say hello to Nesta for me.” The words taste bitter, a poor attempt to mask the hurt.

I turn around before he has the chance to say something else, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me.

Yes, that is the downside. The constant reminder of what I had lost and could never have.

Him.

——————

The dining room buzzes with conversation as everyone settles in for dinner.

Azriel and Elain sit together, a vision of contentment that sends a pang through my heart.

Across the table, Lucien’s jaw is tight, his gaze fixed on his plate.

“Thank you all for coming,” Rhysand begins, standing at the head of the table. “I have an important announcement to make.”

He glances at Lucien and me, a hint of apology in his eyes. “We’ve decided to support Eris in overthrowing Beron.

Lucien and you,” he points at me, “will lead the mission to the Autumn Court.”

A murmur runs through the room. Lucien looks up, his eyes meet mine.

There is a mixture of determination and vulnerability in his gaze that makes my heart ache.

The Autumn Court doesn’t hold great memories for either of us.

But before I can fully process Rhysand’s words, Azriel stands abruptly, his expression dark and tense.

“Why them?” Azriel’s voice is sharp, a stark contrast to his usual calm demeanor. “Why not send someone else?”

Rhysand frowns slightly, clearly not expecting this reaction.

“Both of them have a unique advantage given their history with Eris and the Autumn Court. It’s a strategic decision.”

Azriel’s eyes flicker to me, a storm of emotions swirling within them. “I don’t like it. It’s too dangerous.”

I feel a surge of frustration. Azriel’s protectiveness, though touching, is misplaced and completely out of character.

“What’s your problem, Azriel?” I snap, unable to hold back.

“I’m more than capable of leading this mission. Or do you think I’m not good enough to do my job?”

His eyes narrow, the tension between us thickening. “That’s not what I meant,” he retorts, his voice lower but no less intense.

“I just don’t think it’s wise to send specifically you two into such a volatile situation. You can’t just throw yourself into danger like that.”

My heart pounds in my chest. “That’s rich coming from you. You’re always in danger, always risking everything. How is that different from this mission?”

“It’s different because—” Azriel stops himself, glancing at Elain, who is watching us with wide eyes. He seems to struggle for a moment before finishing, “It doesn’t matter, just let someone else do the mission. You’re an important asset to this court.”

Before I could respond with something I’d surely regret, Elain’s voice cuts through the tension.

“Azriel, stop.” Her voice is calm but firm, a hint of desperation in her eyes. “This isn’t helping.”

Azriel turned to Elain, his expression softens slightly, but the tension remains. He takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. “I’m sorry. I just… I worry.”

Lucien’s gaze hardens, “We’ve faced worse,” he says, a challenge in his tone. “We are capable enough to lead this mission, we don’t need your approval, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel’s jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “It’s not about capability. It’s about safety. I don’t want to see anyone get hurt.”

“Anyone?” I echo, my voice rises. “Or just Elain’s mate?”

The words hang in the air, charged with emotion. Azriel flinches slightly.

“This has nothing to do with Lucien being Elain‘s mate,” he says, though the slight tremor in his voice betrays him.

“But it does, doesn’t it?” My words laced with venom. “If Lucien were to get hurt, it would cause Elain distress, that’s how a mating bond works. And we can’t have that, can we?”

Elain looks down, her face unreadable, while Lucien’s gaze flickers between Azriel and me.

“We all know the risks,” Lucien says more calmly this time, “And we’re prepared to face them.”

Rhysand interjects, his voice low but authoritative. “Enough. We’re all on the same side here. This is a mission we need to undertake for the greater good. Personal feelings need to be set aside.”

I take a deep breath and try to steady the storm of emotions within me. Rhysand is right, the last thing we need is Azriel and me fighting.

Rhysand sits down, his tone final. “This mission is vital. We need to trust each other and stay focused. We’ll discuss this further tomorrow. For now, let’s try to enjoy the evening.”

The atmosphere is strained as we resume our meal. I can feel Azriel’s gaze on me.

Lucien reaches over, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. It was a small gesture, but it meant everything in that moment.

I don’t say a word throughout the whole dinner. Choosing to stay quiet instead of lashing out.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that this mission would change everything.

---

The garden of the River House is a haven of tranquility. Blooming flowers and lush greenery everywhere Elain truly is a talented gardener.

I find Lucien leaning against a stone pillar, his gaze lost in the Sidra's gentle flow.

I approach him quietly, the cool evening air brushing against my skin. “Mind if I join you?” I ask softly.

Lucien looks up, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Of course not. I was just enjoying the peace before the storm.”

I halt beside him, the tension from the dinner still coils tightly in my chest. “Quite the announcement, wasn’t it?”

He nods, his expression thoughtful. “I knew something like this was coming, but hearing it confirmed… it’s different.

Eris must be desperate if he reached out to Rhysand.”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Yes, it’s a lot. I wish Rhys would have told us separately. This topic is already very emotional I really didn’t need Azriel’s… concern too.”

Lucien’s eyes darken at the mention of Azriel. “He’s protective, that’s clear. But he doesn’t have the right to undermine your abilities.”

“It’s not just that,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “His words, his actions… they confuse me. One moment he’s distant, the next he’s overly concerned. I don’t understand him.”

Lucien’s gaze softens, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “He cares about you. He might not be aware of it but you’re his mate, bond snapping into place or not, it’s his priority to keep you safe. That can’t be changed, even if he’s in love with someone else.”

I look away, the garden blurring before my eyes. “It hurts, Lucien. Seeing him with Elain, pretending to be something they’re not. I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Lucien reaches out, his hand covering mine. “You’re not alone in this. We’ve all got our battles to fight, and sometimes the hardest ones are with our own hearts.”

A moment of silence stretches between us, the night air filled with the scent of blooming flowers.

“And what about you?” I ask, turning to look at him. “How are you handling all of this? Eris, the Autumn Court… it can’t be easy for you.”

Lucien’s expression grows somber. “It’s not. But I’ve come to terms with my past and everything my father did to me. I knew this was going to happen. Eris has the chance to change things, to make the Autumn Court a better place. I can’t turn my back on that.”

He smiles at that. “And maybe, when all of this is over, we’ll find some semblance of peace.”

As we stand there, the garden enveloping us in its quiet embrace, I feel a sense of calm settle over me. Whatever challenges lay ahead, I know we have each other’s backs.

—————————

The war room in the House of Wind is filled with dread as we gather around the large oak table.

Rhysand stands at the head, his usual easy demeanor replaced by a grave seriousness.

To his right, Amren sits with her usual enigmatic expression, while Cassian leans against the wall, arms crossed and a stern look on his face.

Azriel is on my left, his gaze unreadable, and Lucien sits across from me, his eyes focused and determined.

Rhysand unfurls a detailed map of the Autumn Court, its forests and strongholds marked with meticulous detail.

“Eris has provided us with information about Beron’s movements and the layout of his court. Our objective is to infiltrate the main stronghold, gather intelligence, and support Eris in his efforts to dethrone Beron.”

Lucien nods, his jaw set. Rhys continues. “We’ll enter through the southern border. Eris has arranged for a distraction that will draw most of Beron’s guards away from the main stronghold. This will give us the opportunity to slip in and meet with Eris.”

Amren leans forward, her sharp eyes assessing the map. “And what about Koschei? He’s been a wild card in all of this. His alliance with Beron could complicate things.”

Rhysand nods in agreement. “Koschei is a concern. According to Eris, Koschei has been providing Beron with dark magic. We need to be prepared for any magical traps or barriers.”

Azriel’s voice cuts through the discussion. “I’ll handle the reconnaissance. I’ll fly ahead and ensure the path is clear before they move in.”

I glance at him, he hasn’t looked at me or said a single thing to me since yesterday. If I didn’t know better I would say he was sulking.

Rhysand continues, “Once inside, our main goal is to secure the throne room and neutralize Beron’s guards. Eris will confront Beron directly. You,” he gestures to Lucien and me, “need to be ready to support him.”

Lucien nods again, his eyes meeting mine across the table. “We’ll be ready.”

Rhysand’s gaze softens slightly as he looked at us. “This mission is dangerous, but it’s necessary. Any questions?”

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the responsibility settle on my shoulders. “What if things go wrong? Do we have an extraction plan?”

Amren smirks. “We have a plan. Azriel and I will be your backup. If things go south, we’ll get you out, girl.”

Azriel nods, his eyes meeting mine. “You won’t be alone out there. We’ll be watching.”

There is a moment of silence as everyone absorbs the gravity of this mission.

Finally, Rhysand speaks again, his voice resolute. “We leave at dawn. Get some rest and prepare yourselves.”

As we all stand to leave, Azriel catches my arm. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” he asks, his voice low.

I nod, following him to a quieter corner of the room. “What is it, Azriel?”

He hesitates, searching for the right words. “I know you’re capable. But this mission… it’s dangerous, and I can’t shake the feeling that something might go wrong. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

His concern should touch me, but I can’t help and feel angry. “I know the risks, Azriel. And I’ll be careful. But you need to trust me to do my part.”

He sighs, running a scarred hand through his hair. “It’s not that I don’t trust you or your abilities. I just… I can’t lose you.”

Before I can respond, Lucien approaches.“Ready?” Lucien asks, his eyes flicker between Azriel and me. I nod, giving Azriel one last look.

“Ready.”

[sapphicmsmarvel]

"hey bitch, what's for dinner?"

Cassian dares his besties (eris, lucien and tarquin included) to ask their mates “hey bitch, what’s for dinner?” 

some are short. some medium. one large (for a headcanon type fic). Also this is mostly dialogue because I didn't want to keep repeating body motions (they shrug a lot, they cuddle a lot, etc, etc, etc). 

Azriel:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?” He really tried not to let his voice crack, but he couldn't help it. The idea of calling you something foul outside the bedroom is painful. 

“Based on the way your voice got quieter for that word, I'm going to assume this is a stupid dare from Cassian. And that you aren’t actually that stupid to talk to me like that.” You said as you continued to stir the pot of soup. 

“I’m so relieved you know me that well.” He couldn’t help his sigh. 

You snorted as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “If I ever actually talk to you like that, take Truthteller and use it, cause it’s not me.�� 

You let out another snort. “My big baby.” You said, taking your hand up and ruffling Azriel’s hair as he pressed kisses to your neck. 

Cassian:

He came in so confident too. But quickly was humbled. 

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?” 

“Wanna try that again?” He doesn’t get scared of much, but your calm tone in this moment will strike fear into his heart.

“No, ma’am.” He shook his head. 

“And what did we learn?” 

“Never say that stuff to my spouse and mate who I love very much?” He asked. 

“Mhm.” you hummed as he came up to hug you. “Speak to me like that again and I’m cutting your hair off.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Rhysand:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

He didn’t even get a chance to breathe after that sentence because you turned around with the knife in your hand. Seriously, what an idiot approaching you with that stupid shit while you’re cooking dinner. You’re hungry and holding a knife. 

You stabbed it into the countertop, it made a twang sound and shook from the force of you stabbing it. 

“The fuck did you just say to me?” 

“…” 

“Go on say it again since you wanna be all cocky.” You leaned against the counter with your arms crossed. 

“I love you.” Not much scared him, but his wife humbled the shit out of him. 

Your mouth made a flat line and your brows raised as you said, “Mhm.” 

“And I’ll do whatever you want for a month. Hell, the rest of our lives.”

“Mhm.” You ripped the knife out of the counter and then turned around and continued chopping vegetables. 

“Honey?”

“You know, I think I’ll invite Feyre and her wife over for dinner. They wouldn’t call me that.” You continued. 

“Baby,” he began and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Maybe I’ll invite Cassian and Azriel’s wives too, they’ll understand what it’s like to be married to the stupidest motherfucker we know.” 

He pressed a kiss to your clothes shoulder. 

“Are you done?”

“You have no idea the doghouse you’re in right now.” 

“Does it help if I told you that Cassian dared me.” 

You set the knife down and turned around in his arms. “You’re still an idiot.” You wound your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with baby hairs growing at the nape of his neck. 

“I know.” 

“Good,” you said and smacked his ass.

He yelped. 

Feyre:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

“What crawled up your ass and died?” You asked. 

She couldn’t help but giggle. “I love that you humble me.” 

“Me and Rhys’ wife have a load on our hands considering you fools are best friends. You have got to stop influencing each other.” 

She hummed at the thought of her best friend and his wife. She put her arms around your waist and you leaned into her. “One day, we’re gonna snap and kill you.” She kissed the area between your neck and shoulder. “We have the best wives.”

“You got that right.” You reached around and smacked her ass. But you miscalculated and hit her hip. 

Morrigan:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

“Nothing, slut. Bend over the table and spread your cheeks, if you think you can talk to me like that I’ll show you otherwise.” 

 You sat up from your spot on the couch looking at her with a “WTF” expression. 

The woman was too stunned to speak.  “It was a joke but now I’m horny.” 

You laughed, “into degradation are we?” 

“Didn’t think I was, but hey you learn something new everyday.” She shrugged, actually thankful for Cassian because now she could explore this new thing with her wife. 

Amren:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?” She opened the door to your shared home to yell. When she heard nothing but silence she was concerned, she could smell you, you were home. 

“Y/N?” She called. 

She walked into your living room from the entry hall to find you standing there. Staring at her with sad, wide eyes. 

“Love?” 

“….what’d i do?” Your voice wavered and she couldn’t take it. She pulled you into her arms and rocked you side to side. 

“If I ever speak to you like that, you better smack me across the fucking mouth.” Was all she said. “Why’d you say that?” You sniffed. You two pulled away from each other, only enough to lean your foreheads together. “Cassian got it in his big dumb brain that it was a good idea to say that to our mates.” She whispered and wiped your cheeks with her thumbs. 

“He’s an idiot.” You deadpanned. 

“I'm aware.” “And you’re an idiot for doing it.” 

“I deserve that.” Was all she said before she kissed you. 

Nesta:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

You were silent and she looked at you from her spot on the couch. You were staring at her wide eyed, your eyes began watering. 

“Y/N?”

“That really hurt my feelings, Nes.” You were about to cry. 

She shot off from her spot on the couch and crawled into the chair you were sitting in. She pulled you into her chest. 

“Oh baby.” She said, “it was a stupid fucking prank from Cassian.” She whispered at the top of your head, kissing your hair. 

“Tell that overgrown bitch of a bat to watch his back.” Your voice was muffled from her tits. 

“I will.” She scratched your head lightly. 

“Nes?”

“Yes, my love?”

“You ever speak to me like that again, I’ll make you wish you never met me.”

She let out a laugh like breath through her nose. “Okay, baby.” 

“Tears and all I’ll pummel you.” You declared and she kissed your head, rocking you back and forth. 

“I know.” 

Elain:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

“I will grill your flowers if you talk to me like that again.”

She cackled like the witch she is. 

Lucien:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

“Soap.”

“Soap?” 

“If you’re going to talk to me like that, you’re getting soap. Bitch.” You threw a jar of soap at him. “Go put that on spaghetti.” 

Eris:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

You whipped off your shoe and threw it at him. Feyre taught you that move. He didn’t duck, he just let it hit him because he knew his dumbass deserved it.  

Tarquin:

“Hey bitch, what’s for dinner?”

“My ass.” 

He loves that you match his freak, “I'm so relieved you didn’t think I was serious.” 

“You aren’t that stupid, plus, Azriel’s mate sent a missive because he tried it.” 

“Drinking with Cassian is the worst.”

“And yet, your dumbass still did it.” 

“The drinking or the dare?” “Both.” 

[thehighladywrites]

ACOTAR CHARACTERS USING TWITTER

𖤓 — summary: how they would use twitter

𖤓 — warnings: crack, mild nsfw language, eris lowkey hating on nyx, swearing, azriel giving nyx a perc, nyx slander

𖤓 — amara’s note: long time no see girlies💗💗:

[lady-of-tearshed]

Blinded

Azriel x Reader

Summary:

Word count: angst, feeling worthless, yelling, cursing, betrayal, jealousy, big sad people, pregnancy (Elucien), injuries, violence. Yup.

A/N: Honestly? Be prepared. 🤣💕

Again, thank you @sarawritestories for always giving me to kick in the butt I need when I'm stuck! 💕 Thanks @milswrites for the moral support too ily 🥰

Azriel was staring at your lips. Those full sultry lips painted with that same shade of pink Elain loves to wear.

Only, you weren’t Elain.

He tried to convince himself that he could get over it, get over Elain. He could love, praise, and touch another female without thinking about her.

Could he?

“Az?” You whisper, each one of your rapid breaths formed a cloud that filled the small gap between yours and Azriel’s face. His grip on your hips loosened as he snapped back into reality. He gulped down his shame. Shit. Your eyes, so soft, and loving, and pure filled with concern, Azriel’s stomach dropped. “Are you alright?” She stroked his face, his lips. His lips were still swollen from the kiss…

From the kiss that he fantasized about sharing with another woman.

He tried to shake the thought of Elain away, tried to ignore his shadows whispering wrong, wrong, wrong in his ears. He could do it, he knew it. You were kind, very pretty, caring… “Yeah,” He whispered, before attacking your lips once again. The kiss was feral, rough. His lips were crashing hard against yours, teeth clashing, as he tried so desperately to forget about Elain’s softness.

Your heart was beating in sync with the loud, yet distant busy chatting of the crowd at Rita’s, situated not far from the gloomy alley you and Azriel had stumbled out to. The frenzy was too intense for you to wait before touching him, tasting him, smelling him. Your lips parted when the exposed skin, compliments to the deep cut of your dress that barely covered your body, collided with the cool surface. The earthy and vigorous taste of the wine you had imbibed earlier that night filled his own mouth as his tongue caressed yours.

Elain would’ve drank something sweet, or fruity.

He slowly pulled away from you, his thumb grazing the exposed skin on the small of your back. It sent shivers up your spine, and your nipples hardened. He stared at you, observed how red your cheeks were, how his lips had smushed your lipstick, how the smell of you changed from your arousal. But the love and adoration that shone into those eyes, your eyes, felt like a stab in his cruel heart.

He couldn’t do this.

“Let me fly you back home,” His voice was raspy. He tried to give you a genuine smile, and pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead, his fingers combing through your now very disheveled hair. “Will you be staying?” He wanted to drown in the cauldron and succumb from his sorrows at the sound of your pleading, hopeful tone.

“Another night, when we’ll both be sober.” He lied. They had talked and danced more than they had to drink, he was far from drunk, and you too. But you just shrugged, offering him a kind and comprehensive smile. “Okay,” Was all that you’ve answered, before he picked you up into his arms and led you through the clear night sky.

He dropped you off, bowed his head, and said “Thank you, for tonight,” before flying away without another word. He didn’t even kiss you goodnight.

—

The sky was clear, and the weather started to warm up in Velaris. You had gone shopping for lighter dresses today, and couldn’t wait to come back home and swirl in them for your Illyrian to see, since he had been too busy to spend the morning with you. There were always piles of paperworks lingering on his desk, you couldn’t blame him.

You turned on yourself in the mirror, admiring the last dress you had to try on. It was the prettiest, the deep blue fabric instantly drew you in. It was the exact same blue of Azriel’s siphons. “So, what do you think!” You beamed, spinning around to look into those pretty shades of hazel dancing in his eyes. Your toes were curling in your shoes, excited to get his reaction on your newest, and now favorite, piece of clothing.

“Mhm,” He hums absent-mindedly. Your face dropped, and your eyes turned a tad more glossy than normal. You lifted your chin up, and instead of exploding with rage, or bursting in tears, you cleared your throat as a last attempt to get his attention.

Desperate, pathetic.

Azriel lifted up his head at last, his eyes quickly scanned you, and he gave you a tiny smirk of approval, accompanied by a small nod of his head. “You look good, baby,” He adds, only for good measure.

Good. Not stunning, not flawless, not delightful, not ravishing… Just good. You noticed how Azriel’s eyes drifted back to whatever paperwork he was doing the second you turned back around to face yourself in the mirror, you noticed how his gaze did not linger on any of your features for one second. The shadowsinger had always been a man of few words, showing his love mostly through actions. But lately… lately he was also a man of few actions.

You gulped down your tears, maybe he was just busier than usual, you thought, and yet… You pinched your arm, mentally scolding yourself for being so selfish. Azriel worked hard, he always bought you anything you’d wish and ask for, even more. He had to work a lot to get you all that. You concluded that you simply needed to be more grateful and understanding.

Maybe he needed space. Maybe you were too clingy. You inhaled, trying to get all of the possibilities of why Azriel was acting this way around you out of your mind, and you exhaled. Inhaled, exhaled. You repeated the action a few times, and once you were sure that your voice was steady enough to talk to him, you did. “I'm going out to see Elain today,” You said, your eyes fixed on his reflection in the mirror, secretly analyzing how his body reacted to the second Archeron sister's name.

Azriel barely reacted, only the slight twitch of his fingers around his pen proved your point. Something about Elain was upsetting him, but what? “Have fun,” He dismissed you with a wave of his hand. Azriel tried so damn hard to not think of how Elain’s scent would linger on your clothes for hours, maybe even days when you'll come back from your stupid little play date with her. Tried to ignore the insufferable truth that Elain, even when she belonged to another male, even when himself belonged to another female, to you, still haunted his memories every day, noon, and night.

“I will.” It took every ounce of your self-control to not snap at him. It was getting so hard to ignore that pull, that painful throb in your chest that kept screaming at you more, more, more! But deep down, you knew that Azriel would probably never be able to give you more.

To give you his heart, completely.

—

“How is Azriel?”

Elain's melodic voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Your fingers still plucked at some invasive weeds competing with Elain's stunning flowers for the nutrients, sunlight, and water. But you didn't dare lift your eyes to meet hers, knowing she'd see the lies dancing in your eyes. “Good. Busy, but good,” Which was true, in some ways.

He kept telling you he was fine, and it was true that he was busier than usual, but deep down, you knew he wasn't doing “good”. Elain nodded, the chestnut curls that escaped her bun bouncing on her forehead as she did so. She knew better than to press the topic with you.

“You're… pale,” Her stunning doe eyes burned with concern, and you felt so bad for lying to your friend, even if it was only partially a lie. “I'm fine.”

Suddenly, the air shifted, and a cool breeze ran at the back of your neck, leaving a veil of goosebump on your delicate skin. The sound of Elain's gardening tools clashing to the ground made you jolt. You rapidly lifted your gaze, and gasped when you took I'm the sight of her once brown eyes now turned completely white, the wind flowing through her hair. It was as if she commanded the air itself.

“Leave him,”

Her voice didn't sound like her own, it sounded like nails on a blackboard, scrapping your soul. You hissed, covering your ears, your eyes wide with fear. But you could still hear her voice, and her face was so close. Your body was frozen in place, as if you were hypnotized by those cold white orbs, and your mind screamed at you to back off, to call for help. To call for Lucien, Elain’s mate.

“The shadow male is bound to be blinded.”

The shaddow male could only be Azriel. Was he okay? What was happening? You hated riddles. “Blinded by what?!” You pressed, begging for answers and yet begging for the kind Archeron to come back to her usual self.

“The seer… The shadow male is bound to be blinded by the seer.”

“Elain!” You hadn't heard the grass sweeping against Lucien's fancy leather boots. Nor his hurried footsteps, and breathing, as he not so delicately moved Elain away from you. You landed on your butt, but you didn't take Lucien's actions personally. After all, he was only reacting instinctively as a newly mated male. You swiped a hand on your face, your brain reeling from the information.

Rage, jealousy, despair.

“Y/N…” You faintly heard Elain's voice, her real voice, call out for you. You didn't even realize the tears that rolled down your cheeks until you felt her soiled hands brush against your damp skin. “I need to go,” You didn't wait to be granted your leave before you hastened back inside the River House.

You almost tripped on the marbled floors, your shoe soles were now slippery because of the dew that had coated your heels. You shoved them out of your feets, the coldness of the floors not bothering you for one bit as you kept running, and running through the halls.

Rhysand’s office doors slammed open, making the Shadowsinger, and the High Lord startle slightly. You felt your heart being ripped open when you saw his eyes, on you, filled with worry.

It has been years since he last looked at you, truly looked at you.

“What is this about?” Azriel rose from his chair, his steps towards you careful, his shadows swirling around you frantically. “Elain,” He froze in place, and his pupils shook. “Is she alright?” Her. It had always been her. Her safety, her well being, simply her. It would always be her before you.

The shadow man is bound to be blinded by the seer, not you.

“She is,” You gulped, swiping away your own tears, the tears he yet hadn't noticed. He reached his hand to touch you, but you smacked his hand away, and he frowned. “I am not, Azriel. I am not alright. This is not alright,” You gesture between him and you. “I'm done.”

The bond snapped into place only for him to tug on the crumbling thread, watching as you reject the one thing Azriel longed for most in this life. A mate.

He fell to his knees, his hand curled at his chest as he looked up desperately at you. “What have you done…” His voice shook, his face red with anger, shame even. “What have you done!” He screamed, desperately trying to hold onto the hem of your dress, trying to keep you here, with him. He was angry, furious, at himself, at you, at Elain, at the cauldron that kept torturing his fate over and over again.

Rhys ran to Azriel's side, holding him back. You stumbled back, ripping the hem of your dress out of Azriel grip. He sobbed, and screamed as his soul was being ripped in half. Yours was too, but the damage had mostly been done throughout those years of being ignored, unloved and denied. Your soul and heart have been broken for a while now. You winnowed away, far away, and never came back.

Good riddance.

Taglist: @berryzxx @thelov3lybookworm @sidthedollface2 @favsrachz

[azrielslittleslut]

"The Lost Queen"- Chapter 11

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: A magical incident causes Azriel to unexpectedly tumble through a portal into modern-day Earth. Confused and injured, he is discovered by a compassionate human woman with a hidden past. She takes care of him and helps him discover the complexities of the modern world, completely unaware of who she truly is. Meanwhile, Azriel struggles with his conflicting desires: his duty to the Night Court and his growing love for the woman who saved him.

Their journey unfolds amidst ancient prophecies and the looming threat in Prythian. As they uncover the truth about forces conspiring against them, they must confront their deepest fears and make choices that will change their lives and the world forever.

Warnings: language, slight angst, fluff

Word Count: 8k

series masterlist

a/n: i know, i know. it's been 2 months. but i'm back in the game, and i promise to update more frequently.

Enjoy!

Azriel leaned against the wall outside of his bedroom, his shadows swirling lazily around him. He smiled softly as he listened to you talking and laughing with Elain as she helped you get dressed. He was thankful that Elain had taken the task of helping you into this world upon herself, but he hadn’t been surprised.

Elain was kind and compassionate, and she knew what it was like to be forced into a world of magic and shadows. At one time, that was what had drawn Azriel in, and he had fantasized about what it would be like to be with Elain. But the Cauldron had other plans, giving her a mate that wasn’t Azriel.

Months ago, Az had hated that, and he had lost sleep over it. After that almost kiss on Solstice, he had distanced himself, deciding to let Elain choose her own path. The undeniable scent of her mating bond, a sign that she had accepted Lucien as hers, made him thankful for his decision.

Elain was happy now, the joy written all over her face. His entire family was happy, even though they were facing a strange darkness in Prythian. Az thought that perhaps he would be the one to never find happiness, and he had accepted that. He had made peace with it, even.

He had lived a life full of pain and torture, and he had hurt more people than he cared to admit. He had thought that his loneliness and pain were the world’s way of punishing him for all of the wrongs he had done, for all of the sins he had committed.

But then he had been pulled into a strange world and had met a beautiful, compassionate woman with wildfire in her eyes. He had learned that his lack of happiness had nothing to do with everything he had done. It was simply the fact that his happiness, his mate, had been lost in another world.

The world had a strange way of doing things, Azriel thought, but he wasn’t going to question it. One minute, you could be facing darkness and shadows and horrors beyond the imagination, and the next, you could fall through a portal and into the arms of the love of your life. 

The bedroom door opened, followed by the sound of your musical laughter. “I think this color suits me,” you said as you walked into the hallway. “I’ve always liked blue, especially dark blue. Like cobalt.”

Azriel pushed himself off the wall, his eyes wandering down your body. You were wearing a simple pair of black leggings and black ankle boots. You had donned a cobalt blue sweater, the same color as Azriel’s siphons. The material looked soft, and though it covered your body completely, it hugged your form in a way that made his head spin.

Elain chuckled softly, and Az pulled his attention away from you long enough to meet her gaze. She was raising a knowing brow at him, amusement twinkling in her brown eyes.

Had Rhys told everyone about you being Azriel’s mate?

“Thank you for helping me, Elain,” you said, placing a gentle hand on Elain’s arm. “And for buying me these clothes.”

“Don’t mention it. It was no trouble at all,” Elain responded. She turned on her heel and started down the hallway. “I’m going to check and see if they need any help in the kitchen.”

Alone in the dim hallway, Azriel took a step forward, his hand trailing down your arm. The material of the sweater was warm and soft under his palm. “You look lovely,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on the exposed skin of your neck. “I like seeing you in my color.”

You ran a finger over the siphon on his hand. “You said these are a way for you to channel your magic?”

Azriel nodded in response, unable to form words at the sight of your pulse. He longed to know what it would be like to have it under his lips. Your scent of warm vanilla and jasmine filled his nostrils, and he found himself leaning down, his mind clouded by want and need.

“Why is it blue?”

The innocence of your question pulled Az from his desire. Now was not the time to let his mind wander to those places. Hopefully, in the future when this whole mess with the unstable magic is dealt with, he will have all the time in the world to get the soft skin of your body under his lips. But for now, he needed to focus.

By the Cauldron, he still needed to tell you about the bond.

Azriel reluctantly pulled away from your warmth. “The color of the siphons depends on the color of the magic.” He shrugged, his hand laying atop yours on his siphon. “My magic is blue, so my siphon is blue.”

You raised your eyes to meet his, and he could see a wariness in your gaze. He could tell you were trying to hide it, but in the few days he had known you, he had learned to read your every expression. “Oh,” you said softly, pulling your hand away from his.

“Are you alright?” Az asked, placing his palm on your cheek. “If you don’t want to meet my family, we can-“

“No,” you said sternly, cutting him off. “I won’t get the answers I want by hiding away in that bedroom. I need to face this, even though I’m scared shitless right now.”

Azriel smiled softly, his thumb sweeping across your cheekbone. Your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned into his touch. “My brave fyrvor,” he murmured, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your forehead. He pulled away and gestured down the hallway with a hand. He offered his arm to you as he asked, “Shall we?”

You looped your arms through his and followed him down the hallway. The wall was lined with paintings, all thanks to Feyre, and he watched as your eyes took in each one.

“Feyre painted those,” he said, gesturing to the walls. Some of them were of Nyx, and others were of Rhys and Nyx together. Az could see the paintings of the Illyrian mountains and Elain’s garden. He was always impressed at his High Lady’s talent. Meanwhile, he couldn’t even draw a straight line.

You hummed as you looked, a small smile blooming on your face. “When we were at Serena’s studio, you said you knew a better painter.” You looked at him then, your expression soft. “Were you talking about Feyre?”

Azriel smiled faintly as he thought back to that day. Had it really only been a few days ago? “Yes,” he said finally.

“You missed them a lot when you were in my world? Your family?” Your tone was full of gentle curiosity, your face searching his.

He nodded, the weight of those days away from his world pressing in. “I did,” he admitted. “More than I expected. I have never… fit in with my family. I’m different in many ways, so I’ve always felt like an outsider, even to them. But they’ve been my sanity through the centuries.”

Though they do drive me insane most of the time, he wanted to add but kept that to himself.  

“An outsider,” you mumbled, seemingly to yourself. You shivered, as if you were shaking off an unwanted thought. “I know what that’s like. To feel like you don’t belong.” Your voice was quiet as you confided in him. “I suppose I feel more so like an outsider now.”

The sudden graveness on your face startled him, so he trailed his hand down, lacing his fingers with yours. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Maybe we can feel like outsiders together?”

You smiled up at him, and he felt the tightness in his chest ease at the light in your eyes. “Yeah. We can make it a club or something. Give it a name to make it official?”

Azriel chuckled. Things felt so normal between the two of you, despite the dark could that hung over his shoulders. “I like the sound of that.”

The conversation died out as the two of you walked toward the dining room. Your eyes took in the interior of the River House, your mouth hanging open slightly as you looked at all of the expensive décor.

As he pulled you toward the dining room, the clatter of dishes and the soft murmurs of his family greeted him. His shadows swirled around his shoulders, telling him that Cassian was already seated and tearing into pieces of toast, while Rhys and Feyre exchanged quiet words at the head of the table. Nesta was there, too, apparently looking at Cassian with a rather disgusted look as she watched her mate eat like it was his last meal.

At the doorway, Azriel squeezed your hand, leaning down to whisper into your ear, “Are you ready, fyrvor?” Your hair tickled his nose as you turned to look at him, your eyes filled with determination.

“Yes. I’m ready.”

“Cassian.” Nesta’s sharp voice cut through the room over the clatter of plates. “At least use a napkin. You’re getting toast all over-“

Azriel stepped into the dining room, clearing his throat, not caring that he cut Nesta off. “Family,” he greeted, his hand tight in yours as he pulled you around his wings. “I would like everyone to meet Y/N.”

The room was silent, utterly silent. Cassian stopped his chewing, his mouth open as he looked at you with raised brows. Nesta’s eyes were sharp and calculating as she leaned back in her chair, a faint smile playing on her lips. Rhys was biting his lip, his hand protectively on Feyre’s shoulder, while Feyre was nervously twirling her fork in her hands.

Azriel swallowed against the tightness in his throat. He couldn’t think of anything to say to ease the tension, not knowing how to begin explaining all of this. He opened his mouth to say something, he didn’t know what, but was thankfully cut off as Elain entered the room, Lucien at her heels. They were both carrying plates of steaming food.

“Y/N! Azriel!” Elain greeted with a warm smile. “I was wondering when you two would make it here.” Leave it up to Elain to be the one to bring down the blade to cut the tension.

Feyre dropped her fork as stood, pushing Rhys’s hand off her shoulder as she did so. “Welcome to our home,” she said, raising her hands in welcome. “My name is Feyre. I’ve heard that you’ve already met Rhys, my mate.” She gestured to the other side of the table. “You’ve met Elain, but the female next to her is Nesta, my other sister. The male eating his body weight in toast is Cassian. The male sitting next to Elain is her mate, Lucien.”

Following the awkward introductions, everyone nodded once in greeting. Azriel could feel the nervousness radiating off of you, so he ran a calming hand down the center of your back. “It’s nice to meet all of you,” you said in a quiet voice, but Az could hear the steel behind it, a sign that though you were nervous, fear had no hold on you.

Feyre smiled, her face radiant. “Az has told us so much about you.”

“All good things I hope,” you said with a soft laugh.

Nesta drummed her fingers on the table. “If you consider being from another world, one completely different from this one, a good thing… then yes. All good things.”

Your smile faltered at Nesta’s tone, and Azriel fought the urge to snarl at Nesta for making you uncomfortable. But he knew that Nesta meant no harm by what she said. It was just how she talked to people who she didn’t know that well.

Still, Azriel glowered at Nesta, a quiet sign that he would not tolerate her sneering.

“Nesta,” Rhys drawled, his eyes moving between you and the female. “Maybe we should hear Y/N’s side of the story.” He managed to force a smile onto his pale face, and Azriel could see the dark circles under his eyes. When had his brother last gotten a good night’s rest?

Not since before you left, shadowsinger, his shadows answered him as they swirled around his shoulders and wings.

“Please. Have a seat,” Elain said, gesturing to two empty seats at the end of the table. Azriel noticed that the seats were farthest away from Rhys and Nesta, but they were closest to Elain and Lucien. “And dig in. The both of you look like you could use a hot meal.”

After the two of you had taken your seats, Azriel grabbed the nearest dish and spooned some of it onto your plate. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“I can do it, Azzy,” you murmured, taking the spoon and bowl from his scarred hands.

Cassian chuckled, no doubt at the nickname you had given him. Az ground his teeth as he shot a glare at Cass, silently warning him to keep his mouth shut. His brother shrugged his shoulders and went back to eating his toast, not caring that his face was covered in jam.

“So,” Feyre said, picking up her fork. “Az tells us that you come from another world.”

You set down the bowl and took a deep breath. “Yes. I come from a place called Earth.” You reached for his hand under the table, and he returned your gesture with a soft squeeze, encouraging you. “I grew up in a place called New Orleans, Louisiana. I was a nurse, working at a hospital in the trauma department. My parents, they-“ Your voice trembled slightly, your eyes filling with tears. You looked down at your uneaten food, obviously trying to hide it from everyone’s prying eyes.  

Azriel’s heart broke at the sight of it. He knew, deep down, you had not had the time to deal with everything that had happened. Madja had said that you were more than likely still in shock from the whole ordeal. The healer had told him that he needed to be ready for when everything hit you, that he needed to prepare himself to weather the storm.

Azriel had told Madja not to worry about that. He would fight through the deepest, darkest pits of hell to make sure you didn’t have to bear that burden alone.

You continued on, your voice shaky but clear, “My mother was a teacher. My father was a mechanic. They raised me with so much love and kindness… My life was so simple, before all of this…”

Feyre nodded solemnly, her eyes shadowed. “Azriel told us about your parents. About what happened,” she said, her voice soft like silk. “We are very sorry about what you went through.” Her tone was genuine, and Az knew she was telling the truth.

His High Lady knew was it was like to suffer and watch someone you love die. All of them did.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You blinked the tears away, pulling your eyes back up to Feyre. “As much as it hurts, I know that none of that matters right now.”

“What do you mean?” Lucien asked, leaning forward in his chair. “Surely the loss of your parents should be at the forefront of your mind. None of us would blame you if you took the time to grieve for them.”

You turned your eyes to the male, your gaze lingering curiously on his mechanical eye. “I worded that wrong. It matters, yes, but I think more important matters are at hand right now. I will grieve when I find out the truth about this… mess. My parents are dead because of who, or what I am. That is what I am focused on.”

Rhys ran a finger along the edge of the table, his gaze nearly piercing as he looked at you. “And what exactly are you?”

You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly at the High Lord, not caring that you were talking to the most powerful male in Prythian. Azriel wanted to laugh at the sight of it. “You know as much as I do. You were there when Madja said I wasn’t human, and that’s all I know.”

Rhys narrowed his eyes. “How can you not know that you’re not human?” His voice was almost a snarl, and it was enough to pull Az out of his silence.

“There is no magic where she’s from, Rhysand,” Azriel growled. “When I first met her, I was convinced she was human. Up until I saw her burst into flames, I thought she was human.” He planted his hands on the table, pushing himself out of his seat. He leaned over the table, his face twisted into a snarl. “So, believe me when I tell you, she doesn’t fucking know what she is.”

Cassian whistled. “Damn, brother,” he said, his voice full of amusement. “Why are you so on edge?”

Azriel snapped his head toward Cassian. The other male wiggled his eyebrows, a silent taunt for Az that said, Come and get me. Get it out of your system before you make a fool of yourself.

Az planted a foot on the ground, meaning to take Cass up on his silent offer, but a small hand wrapping around his wrist stopped him in his tracks. He turned his head, only to be met with your steady gaze. Just like that, his heart rate calmed, his breathing slowed.

Calm down, his shadows whispered. Our mate is scared.

“I think,” Nesta said, her voice echoing through the now-silent room, “that we all need to sit down and have a normal fucking conversation.” She looked at Cassian, Azriel, and then Rhys, her eyes as sharp as a dagger. “Can the three of you handle that?”

After a beat of silence, the three of them nodded. Azriel took his seat, Cassian went back to nibbling on toast, and Rhys leaned back in his chair.

“Good.” Nesta turned to you, her face warm and open, so unlike her usual demeanor. “Now, you said there was no magic where you are from. If that’s the case, how did Azriel show up in your world?”

You shook your head, your hand still tight on Azriel’s wrist. “I don’t know. He just… showed up one night.” You let out a sigh and ran a hand through your hair. “We tried to find answers while we were there, but we got nothing. We only met a weird artist and a lady who threw epic masquerades.”

Azriel paused. He had told his family about the bigger details, like falling through the portal and you going up in flames like a wildfire. But he hadn’t told them about Serena or Mama Laveau. Maybe his family knew something he didn’t?

“The artist,” Azriel said, his voice low. “Her name was Serena. She said she had dreams and visions of Prythian, and she painted them.” He turned his head toward Rhys. “She painted Velaris, Rhys. It looked like she had been here before, but she said she hadn’t.”

Elain spoke up, her voice soft. “Was she a seer?”

“I don’t think so,” Azriel responded. “She said she came from witches and warlocks, whatever that is. But yes, I think she was human.”

“And what about this woman who threw masquerade balls?” Rhys asked, his brows raised. If the fact that a woman from another world knew about Velaris bothered him, Rhys didn’t show it. “What about her?”

“Mama Laveau,” you said. “She was… strange. There was something about her that was different. Serena seemed odd, too, but this woman was..” You shivered slightly. Azriel hadn’t been aware that she had affected you that much.

But then again, the two of you hadn’t really had time to talk about that before everything went to shit.

“She mentioned something,” you continued on, turning your head to Azriel. Your brows were furrowed in confusion as you tried to recall what was said. “What was it she said, Azzy?”

Azriel swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “The World Walkers.” He turned to Cassian. “Do you remember Firewine?”

Cassian grimaced. “That shit that made me puke for two days? Yeah, I remember that stuff, even though I wish to forget it.”

Azriel pressed on, “She had some. She said she got it from a World Walker.” Az shook his head, his mind suddenly feeling clearer than it had in days. “There is no way she could have had that unless there was someone from Prythian who gave it to her.”

“What are World Walkers?” Lucien asked, his face twisted up in confusion, as well as something almost like fear. Azriel wondered if he sometimes regretted getting involved in the Night Court’s drama. “Did she ever explain what that is?”

“No,” you murmured. “She did not.” Your expression was one of defeat, and Azriel knew what you were feeling. You felt like the two of you had failed in trying to figure out why he landed on your doorstep. He felt the same way, but he couldn’t let himself dwell on that, not when so much was at stake right now.

“Hey,” he murmured to you, his voice low. “We got something, Y/N. We will figure out the rest. I promise.”

You offered him a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Okay.”

“We need to figure out the rest sooner rather than later,” Rhys said, standing up from his chair. “Things here are bad, Az. I know Cassian has told you some of it, but things are worse than you can imagine.”

“Then enlighten me,” Az snapped back, still on edge from earlier. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “I know I haven’t been present these last few days, but now that Y/N is awake, I’m all ears.”

Rhys glanced over to you, his eyes wary. “Perhaps we could talk about it in my office?”

“I think you should talk about it here,” Elain cut in. “Y/N lives here now, so she should know. There’s no point in hiding it from her.”

Azriel nodded his head toward Elain, silently thanking her for saying what was on his mind. Feyre glanced up at her mate. “Elain is right. She should know, Rhys.”

Rhys sighed. “Alright,” he grumbled as he sat back down. He raked a hand through his black hair, and Az noticed the slight tremble in it. “You know how all of this has affected us, especially our magic. I know Cass told you about the Illyrians. But it’s more than that.” Rhys took an unsteady breath. “The magic is… going away. There have been reports of the land dying. Creatures in the woods have been found, but the only thing left of them is their rotting corpses and the scent of something dark and wrong. Crime throughout the courts has risen. Riots have started. We’re on the brink of another war, Az, and we’re not on the winning side this time.”

Rhys’s words hung in the air like a dark cloud. Azriel felt his heart stutter in his chest, and his ears started to ring. A chill crept into his bones as he pondered what could be causing this. He had faced darkness in his life, more darkness than most people. He had fought in wars and seen the worst that life had to offer.

 Still, nothing in his centuries of living could compare to the fear he felt right now.

“The magic is going away?” Azriel asked, his voice almost a whisper. “How is that possible?”

Rhys shook his head. “We don’t know. It’s like someone, or something, is stealing it. That’s all we’ve been able to come up with.”

Azriel felt your body lock up beside him. “Mathias,” you hissed, your voice full of disgust.” He mentioned a queen. He said the queen had requested my presence.” You tightened your hold on his wrist. “Do you think that has to do with any of this?”

“There are no queens here, other than the Mortal Queens,” Azriel responded.

“The Mortal Queens wouldn’t do this.” Lucien’s voice was hard. He had spent much time with Vassa, so out of anyone, he would know if they were capable of something like this.

Feyre’s face paled. “Do you think Amarantha-“

Rhys growled lowly. “No. She is dead. You know that as well as I do, Feyre.”

“What if she had someone on her side? What if she had been planning this before she died?” Feyre asked biting her lip.

“Enough.” Cassian’s voice dripped with command. It was the voice he used only when he was trying to deal with the Illyrians who wouldn’t listen. “I will not sit here and listen to that bitch’s name be spoken in this house.” He glanced over to Rhys and Feyre. “Especially not by the two of you.”

Nesta cocked her head to the side, her eyes on your face. “Who is Mathias?”

“He was a man that moved in next door to my parents.” You swallowed. “And he was the one who killed them.”

“He wasn’t human,” Azriel said. “He appeared to be human, but he was glamoured. When he removed it, I felt his power. It wasn’t like anything I’ve ever experienced, other than what I felt in the Whispering Woods.”

“And he mentioned a queen who wants Y/N?” Elain asked, her eyes locked onto you. She had a strange look on her face, as if she could see something the rest of them couldn’t.

“Yes,” you mumbled. “He wanted to bring me back here, to Prythian.”

The room was filled with voices, all questions directed to you and Azriel. Why did he want you? Where did he go? How could you let him get away, Az?

Azriel was about to stand and yell at his family to shut the fuck up. He could see the stress on your face, the tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks. He needed to tell you more about his world before his family scared you so much that you decided to find the fastest way out of here.

He had just placed his hands on the table, pushing himself out of his seat, when Elain’s eyes went white, her expression going blank.

“She walks in the shadows of mountains. Her breath is death and decay. Her smile is sharper than any blade, and she is coming for what is hers.” Elain’s voice was no longer hers, carrying with it something dark and sinister.

Lucien reached over, placing his hand on his mate’s shoulder. “Elain,” he murmured. “What do you see?”

“Mountains. Snow. A throne. A sword.” Elain’s eyes refocused, her gaze still on you. “I see you, too, Y/N. She’s coming for you.”

You shuddered. “I don’t- I’m not-“ You started to tremble as you spoke, your eyes wide. “I’m just a girl from New Orleans! I’m nothing!”

Azriel pulled you into his arms, holding your shaking body against his. “You’re everything, fyrvor,” he whispered. “I won’t let her take you. Nothing will happen to you. Do you understand me?”

You pulled away, raising your face up to his. At that moment, the dining room and his family melted away. It was only you. You were the center of his being, his entire world. He could feel the bond in his chest, glowing so brightly that it almost took his breath away.

“You promise?” you asked in a small voice, so broken, so fragile.

He ran a hand down your cheek, savoring your warmth against his scarred flesh. “I promise.”

“Well,” Cassian drawled, “this is all very endearing. Really, it warms my heart. But we still know nothing about this queen, or what she wants with Y/N.”

Azriel forced himself back into reality, turning his head to face his family. Lucien was holding Elain, who was staring at her food. Rhys and Feyre were pale, eyes on each other, no doubt talking to each other with their minds. Nesta was the only one who seemed unphased by the whole situation.

“I’ve faced one evil queen,” she said with a shrug. “I think I can handle another one.” She smiled darkly, her eyes glancing over to Ataraxia where it leaned against the far wall.

“Azriel,” Rhys said. “Can you check in with your spies? See if they have heard of a queen amongst the courts?”

Azriel nodded numbly. He didn’t want to leave you, not now. But he still had a job to do, and he had to trust that his family would protect you while he was gone. “Yes. I can leave after breakfast.”

“Then it’s settled,” Nesta said, rising from her chair. She smiled at you, her eyes bright. “I’m assuming you want to know more about our world, Y/N. About magic and all of that. But tell me,” she said, leaning forward slightly, “have you ever heard of a Pegasus?”

---

The Pegasus, it seemed, was a rare creature here in Prythian. According to Nesta, it came from this place called “The Prison,” and the only remaining two in existence belonged to some guy named Helion.

“So, you’ve never seen one?” you asked Nesta. The two of you were sitting in the living room of the River House. The room was warm, smelling faintly of citrus and jasmine. After breakfast, everyone had gone their separate ways. Elain and Lucien had wandered into the gardens, Rhys to his office, and Feyre to her painting studio. Cassian went back to this place called the House of Wind, saying that he could not miss another day of training.

Only Nesta had stayed with you, choosing to keep you company in Azriel’s absence.

Nesta shook her head. “I’ve seen a miniature Pegasus, but never the real thing. My friends and I would be very happy to see one, to say the least.”

You hummed as you looked around the room, your eyes wandering as you took in everything around you. Rhys and Feyre were rich as hell, no doubt. You had never seen a house that was so well furnished. Somehow, though, it all looked cozy despite the grandeur of the place.

A part of you wanted to curl up in this chair and sleep for an eternity, hoping that you would wake up and this nightmare would be over. You knew that wouldn’t happen, no matter how much you wished for it. Whatever was happening in Prythian, whomever this queen was… It was your problem now, and sleeping wouldn’t solve it.

Your eyes caught a small object sitting on the floor next to the fireplace. It appeared to be a tiny sword, small enough that a child would be the one to play with it. “Is there a child here?” you asked Nesta, who was quietly sipping her tea.

“Yes,” she said. “Rhys and Feyre have a son named Nyx. He is here in the house, but he’s been napping all morning.” Her voice was tight, and you could tell she was lying.

“It’s alright, you know. You can tell me that Rhys and Feyre don’t trust me enough to bring their kid around. I get it.”

Nesta smiled sadly. She leaned forward and placed her tea on the small table next to her chair. “We’ve been through a lot these last few years. They will come around. Just give them time.”

Your eyes snapped to Nesta. There was something about this female that settled your nerves. You could tell she was powerful, that something different lurked beneath her skin, but it didn’t scare you. “Do you trust me?”

“I do.” Nesta crossed her legs, leaning back in her chair. “I don’t know you, but I can tell that what you say is the truth, about not knowing what you are. Besides,” she said, a smile forming on her face, “if Azriel trusts you, and that male trusts nobody, who am I to argue with that?”

The mention of Azriel caused your heart to clench. Immediately after breakfast, he had pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before leaving to meet with his spies, whatever that meant. You missed him, even though it had only been a few hours since he had left.

“When do you think he will be back?” you asked, forcing your voice to remain steady.

“I’m not sure,” Nesta said with a shrug. “Hopefully he doesn’t wander into another portal while he’s gone.”

Your chest tightened at the thought of Azriel leaving, an unsettling mix of fear and anxiety setting in you. The thought of him landing on another girl’s doorstep made you want to sob. “What if he doesn’t come back this time?” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could catch them.

“Azriel will come back, Y/N,” Nesta murmured, leaning forward to place a hand on your knee. Her touch was oddly comforting. “This is Azriel’s job. He’s Rhysand’s spymaster, and he needs to see what he can find out about this whole ordeal.”

You nodded, but the sinking feeling in your chest didn’t go away. The room was filled with silence after that, save for the sound of the wind softly howling against the windows. You looked toward the city- Velaris- the one Serena had painted. It was beautiful, to say the least. You could see the river winding through the city, and you could make out the forms of people as they walked, completely oblivious to whatever dark forces were at work here.

Your mind wandered to Azriel’s family. Feyre, Nesta, and Elain seemed nice enough, and Cassian reminded you of the gym-obsessed frat boys you had met during your college tours. Rhys seemed… on edge, but you couldn’t blame him. You would probably act the same way if your court and people were at risk. You hoped he would warm up to you eventually.

Lucien didn’t seem to fit in here, but you could tell he was attached to Elain, his mate. Wait. What the hell is a mate?

“Nesta?” You turned your attention back to the female, who was busy stirring her tea.

“Hmm?”

You bit your lip, annoyed that you had so many questions. You always hated being around those who asked questions constantly, but now you were one of them. “What is a mate?”

Nesta’s gaze snapped to yours, her eyes like the color of a raging sea. “A mate is like a husband or a wife, but it’s more than that. It’s more of a soul-bond.” She placed her hand on her chest, right over her heart. “You can feel it here, like a pull or a tug, connecting you to them.”

You furrowed your brows. “So, like soulmates?”

Nesta smiled as she nodded her head. “Yes. I suppose that’s a good comparison.”

Your mind worked, thinking back to the conversation at breakfast. Rhys and Feyre were mates, and so were Lucien and Elain. Nesta had Cassian, so that left only one…

“Does Azriel have a mate?” you blurted out, unable to stop yourself. The room suddenly felt smaller, the walls closing in at the thought of Azriel being bonded to someone else like that.

“No,” Nesta said, “he doesn’t.” There was a shadow over her face, though, and you had the sinking feeling that there was something she wasn’t telling you.

You wanted to press more, but your heart couldn’t take it. You remembered the kiss at the ball, the way Azriel’s hands had caressed and held you like a lifeline. You couldn’t bear the thought of another being the one to receive such affection from him.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” you asked, hoping she didn’t notice the sudden change in conversation. “Elain has been kind, but everyone else has been keeping their distance. Why?”

She ran a finger around the rim of her teacup, her eyes suddenly filling with sadness. “I was human once,” she said, her voice low. “So was Feyre and Elain. We were forced into this life a few years ago, when other dark forces were at work in Prythian. We dealt with it in our own ways, of course. Feyre had Rhys to help her, and Elain, after suffering through depression, found her own way. I, on the other hand, did not deal with it all that well.”

You looked at Nesta. She was clearly not human, fully Fae, with her pointed ears and longer limbs. “What did you do?”

“I nearly drank myself to death. I also slept with at least half the males in Velaris,” she said, but there was no shame in her voice. She spoke like a woman who had been to hell and back and had come out on the other side triumphant. “Cassian and my friends helped me through it. So did Azriel. They helped me discover that this life isn’t as bad as it seems.”

She leaned forward then, her eyes locked onto your face. “I’m being nice to you because I know what it’s like to have your world turned completely upside down. I know what it’s like to be one thing one day, only to wake up and be something else. I watched my father die before my eyes, and I watched the others move on as if nothing happened.” She tilted her head to the side, her eyes soft. “The only difference, I suppose, is that I grew up in Prythian, unlike you.”

You were at a loss for words, your throat closing up. “I’m… sorry. I had no idea. I-“

Nesta raised a hand. “I figured Azriel hadn’t gotten around to telling you about that yet, so don’t feel bad,” she said.

“Do you miss it?” you asked. “Being human?”

Nesta’s eyes softened as she thought for a moment. “Sometimes I do, but I’ve gotten used to being Fae. I’m able to fight now, and I have a badass sword. I have Cassian and my friends, so I can say that I don’t miss it as much as I used to. “

You smiled softly. “I hope I can say the same thing one day.”

“You will, especially if Az has anything to do with it,” she said with a sharp laugh. Suddenly, she stopped herself, clearing her throat as if she had said too much. “I do have a question. Azriel told me about what happened at your parents’ house, more than he told the others, I think. He said you grew wings and went up in flames, that you healed him. What do you remember about that?”

“Mathias had killed my parents, and he was trying to kill Azriel,” you said with a shrug. “I don’t know… I just felt so much anger and rage. I felt something like a flame inside of me, begging to be let out, to grow.” You looked at Nesta, your gaze as cold as ice. “So, I let it out, and it grew.”

Nesta pursed her lips. “Is that the flame that I see in your eyes? The one flickering like a small candle?”

Damn. Everyone could see it, then.

“Yes. I still feel it now,” you said, running a hand over your chest. “It’s stronger here, in Prythian. I don’t know what any of it means.”

“Hmm,” Nesta mused. “It must have been something, considered Az admitted it scared the shit out of him. Nothing scares that male, except for…” She trailed off, a small grin on her lips.

“Except for what?” You couldn’t imagine that Azriel, stoic and emotionless as he is, could be scared of something. 

Nesta ran a finger along the arm of her chair. “Except for me,” she said frankly. “I have a different power, too, Y/N. Az can tell you the details of it all. But you should know that I am willing to help you. So is Elain, Lucien, and Cassian, and of course Azriel.” She sighed softly. “Even Rhys and Feyre will help, though their attention will be more focused on the bigger threat in Prythian.  We can help you figure this out.”

For the first time since you arrived here, you felt a small flicker of hope bloom in your chest. Azriel’s family wasn’t all that bad, after all. You were thankful they were willing to offer their aid, despite the darkness surrounding their world.

You opened your mouth to express your gratitude, but you were cut off as the door to the living room opened, revealing the frame of a female you hadn’t met. She was incredibly beautiful, with a strong, curvy body that would send any male to his knees. She had brown eyes and flowing golden hair. She was wearing a pair of black pants paired with a silky red sweater threaded with gold.

She was easily the most beautiful female you had ever seen.

“I swear if I have to stay in that library for any longer today, I will lose my mind,” the female said as she gracefully glided into the room. She was rubbing her temples as if she had a throbbing headache. “It’s so dim in there. I don’t know how any of the priestesses see anything.”

Nesta gestured to the female, completely unbothered by her complaining. “Y/N, meet Morrigan.” She gestured to you with a hand. “Morrigan, meet Y/N.”

Morrigan pulled her hand away from her face as a beautiful smile bloomed on her full lips. “Oh! You’re Azriel’s Y/N!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been dying to meet you. But please, call me Mor.”

A part of you wondered just what had been said about you while you were unconscious. You weren’t Azriel’s anything, but you decided not to comment on it. “You weren’t at breakfast,” you said.

Mor sighed and took the extra seat between you and Nesta. “No. I was in the library trying to help Gwyn with her research about this whole mess.”

You wanted to ask who Gwyn was, but Nesta said, “Did you find anything? She said she had been researching ancient spells that could have something to do with the magic going away.”

Mor shook her head, causing long, blonde waves to fall over her shoulder. “No luck with that,” she said. “But we did find something strange. You know the map of Prythian that hangs on the wall next to Gwyn’s desk? You know, the small one that has been the same for thousands of years?”

Nesta nodded slowly, her eyes wary. “Yes. Gwyn said it had been there since before the library was even built. What about it?”

Mor reached into her back pocket and pulled out a rolled-up piece of paper. With long fingers, she unrolled it, laying it on the small table at the center of the chairs. “That,” she said, pointing to a spot at the top of the map, “was not there three days ago.”

You leaned forward in the chair, inspecting the map. It looked oddly like the maps you had seen of Europe, but it was outlined differently. You saw an island to the right of the mainland named Hybern. As your eyes scanned the paper, you saw the Mortal Lands, all of the courts. The court at the top was the Night Court, where you were now. Above that, you saw a mountain range called the Illyrian Mountains.

Mor’s finger was hovering over a black spot at the center of the mountain range. “In the centuries I have looked at maps of Prythian, I have never seen anything in the middle of those mountains.”

“What mountains?” came a deep voice from the doorway. Azriel stood there, his wings tucked in, those beautiful shadows swirling lazily around his body. One of the shadows darted out, moving over to you.

You smiled down at it as it wrapped itself around your wrist. “Hello to you, too,” you whispered to it.

Mor looked back at Azriel, her finger still on the map. “Az,” she greeted. “It seems we’ve had a recent change of geography in Prythian.”

Azriel walked into the room, looking every bit like a dark prince from a storybook. Your heart lurched as he bent down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “What do you mean, Mor?” he asked, but his attention was still on you.

“Look at this.” Mor pulled the map from the table, offering it to Az. “Look at the Illyrian Mountains.”

He kept his eyes on you as he took the map from Mor. He smiled at you as he looked down to study it, his brows creasing. “It looks like the mountains,” he said. “The same frozen wasteland that’s always there.”

Mor rolled her eyes. “No, you idiot.” She sat up and put her finger on the black dot. “There. That isn’t normally there.”

“Perhaps you got ink on it?” he said with a shrug, handing the paper back to Mor. “Nothing looks amiss to me. Then again, I try not to look at those mountains unless I have to.”

From the other chair, Nesta chuckled, her shoulders shaking as she tried to contain her laughter.

“Whatever,” Mor groaned, throwing up her hands. “I’m still going to take it to Rhys. Even if it is just an ink stain, he’ll need to get Gwyn a new map.” Mor stood and made for the door, stopping once she got to the threshold. She turned around, her eyes on you and Azriel. She had a soft expression on her face, like she was looking at something that brought her great happiness. “Hey, Nesta. Elain wanted me to ask if you could help her with something in the kitchen.”

Nesta glanced over to the blond female as she settled herself back onto the chair. “Right now?”

Mor nodded, her eyes as hard as granite. “Right now.”

“Fine,” Nesta mumbled, standing up and walking over to Mor. Her green dress swayed around her body as she walked, making her look regal. While Az looked like a dark prince from a fairytale, Nesta looked like a queen.

Once they were in the hallway, you heard Nesta say, “Just when things were getting good, too.”

Mor laughed. “Do you think he will tell her?”

Tell me what? You strained your ears to listen to the rest of their conversation, but you were distracted by Azriel as he placed his hands on your hips, pulling you into a hug. You melted into him, breathing in his scent, letting his warmth thaw out the chill that had settled into your bones.

“You’re back,” you mumbled into his leathers, your words barely understandable. “Find out anything?”

Azriel squeezed you once before pulling away, moving his hand up to cup your chin. “No,” he murmured. “My spies have been blinded. They haven’t heard of anything strange going on. At least nothing that we didn’t know already.”

You felt your heart sink at his words. You had hoped that he could find out something. “Back to the drawing board, then?”

“Mm hm,” Az said, moving his head down. As his lips pressed against yours, the world melted away. There was no horror or pain or darkness. There was only this moment with him, only his soft lips touching yours.

As the kiss started to grow, Azriel pulled away. You wanted to cry out in protest, but he placed a finger on your lips. “Are you tired?” he asked, his voice low.

You were tired, but you had been sleeping for days. You knew that you would be haunted by strange dreams if you went back to sleep, and you needed to do something, anything, to take your mind off things.

“Not really,” you admitted, smiling up at him, hoping he would believe you.

He returned your smile, his lips still swollen from kissing. “Good. I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight. I know things are… strange right now. But I want to try and make things normal for you. As much as I can anyway.”

You blinked at him, your chest filling with emotion. “What do you have in mind?” you asked, wrapping your arms around his slim waist.

He unfurled his wings slightly. “How do you feel about flying?”

tag list: @starofanotherworld @lilah-asteria @melmo567

@shadowsingercassia @xxemmarldxx @a-frog-with-a-laptop

@rcarbo1 @saltedcoffeescotch @that-one-bibliophole

@happyt0exist @thefandomswhre @serxndipity-ipity-blog

@doodlebugg16-blog @i-am-infinite

@wolvesnravens @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @bluejayswhistle

@vera0214 @jananigk @fourthwing4ever

@historygeekqueen @carnelshephard @isnotwhatyourethinking

@lovetia @bsenpai @anarchiii

@hedgehogperalta @st4r-girl-official @roseodelle

@kitcat912 @historygeekqueen @blueeclipsepaperstudent

@sublimewombatcopgarden @hellohauntedturnstudent

@negomi123 @quiet-loser @andreperez11

@notyourfvckingproblem @texassred

@scorpioriesling @book-obsessed124 @emryb

@talesofadragon @eerievixen @rose-girls-world

@shizukestar @kittygonap @azrielsshadows42

[potatoplace]

You Can Have It - Chapter 4

Alpha!Feysand x Omega!Reader

chapter 3 | chapter 5 | series masterlist

Story Summary: You've been a baker for 75 years, and are finally moving on from the Winter Court to the City of Velaris to start your own bakery after your grandmother passes. After your grand opening, the High Lord and Lady of Night become daily visitors to your bakery for months, every day having your most popular pastry- one that increases fertility for a short time. All the while, the two alphas want nothing more than to call themselves yours.

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, nothing else I don't think

Words: ~7.4k

Author's Note: it's heeeereeeeeee aaaahhhhhhh RHYS AND FEYRE YESSS I hope you guys all like this chapter! And I can't wait for more cutesy lil interactions with them, all to start come the next update ☺️

18+ only pls

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

The past month and a half had passed so swiftly, you could hardly believe it. Your days were filled with overseeing a few details of construction, and picking out every last piece of furniture that would be in your bakery, apartment, and garden. You and Mor went on lunch dates every Thursday, and most your other lunches were spent with Rella and sometimes Arana after shopping, or with Marcus between stints of supervising the construction.

Your dinners you spent alone most of the time, dedicating yourself to cooking every last recipe in your Night Court Favorites cookbook, enjoying your love for cooking as well.

The time you spent in your hotel room was either passed by reading the Healer of Time series that Gina had recommended to you, or creating your menu pamphlet for when you are finally prepped and ready to open your bakery.

It was completed already, and sent off to the printers for a custom metal press to be made. You had decorated it with a drawing of your bakery on the front, and the name Sparaiya Bakery. The rest of the pages were filled with drawings of your pastries, with the ingredients and, in some cases, added benefits next to them.

Construction had gone by quickly, and you could hardly believe it when finally, your large custom pink marble tub was flown onto the second floor of your bakery by three very strong Illyrians. It was a foot wider than your wingspan, and deep enough that you could float in it, and it also had pretty good veining done on it at your request. It was by far the most expensive piece of furniture on your second floor, coming in at 1,175 gold marks. But you didn’t care, you wanted your dream tub.

The most expensive thing in your bakery by far were your ovens, each one coming in at 2,000 gold marks with a lifetime warranty, and in a soft, pale blue. You have ten stoves in total, seven of them were against the wall separating the kitchen from the front room, taking up the expanse of it. Each are on an elevated platform so that you could see inside of them without needing to bend over. The other three were against the back wall of the building, slightly smaller oven sizes but with a stovetop on each of them, so that you were able to make the filling that some of your pastries require.

The kitchen was completely done at this point, as was the front room of the bakery. Your kitchen was decorated with the pale blue stoves as well as matching cabinetry with silver handles, and white marble countertops with silver veining. The wide window you had took up half of the wall in the center of it, allowing for more cabinets, as you would likely need them for all of your bakeware and ingredients.

The kitchen was exactly how you’d imagined it when you had envisioned it a month ago, as was the front room.

You had the cedar logs of bakery and it’s furniture stained slightly darker, wanting it to have the cozy feeling of a darkened cabin in winter. The log chairs and benches all had different shades of pastel cushions attached to the seats, and the backs of the chairs. The tables were beautiful as well, the carpenter, a kind beta named Oren, had done a fantastic job on all of the wooden furniture you had.

And the display cases Arana had made for you were lovely, two on each side of the wooden counter Oren had also made for you. Arana had made them of matching wood, with a glass dome on one side, and sliding glass doors on the back facing where you would be standing. The shelves were also made of glass, and you’d had Rella enchant them to be unbreakable, just in case.

There was also a counter running along the back wall of the front room, matching the counters in your kitchen, as well as having the same cabinets below.

Your fireplace- it was exactly what you had wanted, made of different shades of grey stone, and positioned on the left wall, even with the midpoint of the dining area.

Your front door had yet to arrive, but the artist working on it was bringing it by in the next week.

The upstairs was nearly finished as well, your bathroom, personal kitchen and bedroom were all fully decorated. Your bathroom and kitchen were both done in a soft, baby pink color, matching the marble of your tub perfectly. You had a small round dining table, perfect for four, made by Oren in the same stained wood as everything else. In front of your fireplace on the right hand wall, you had a matching couch placed parallel to it, and two chairs placed of to the sides and slightly in front of it, with end tables on either side of the couch.

And your bedroom was absolutely perfect, your nest filled with blues of nearly every shade, with white and silk thrown in every now and then. So many pillows, you have so many pillows. Back in Winter, you had been so focused on your grandmother that you hadn’t even truly settled back in, and your nest was one of the things you had consistently neglected.

But not anymore. From now on, you would honor your omega’s wishes, perhaps even find an alpha who would treat you right in the next few years.

You had a few bookshelves lining a wall of your room as well, and you were determined to fill them all in the next three years with books you’ve read while living in Velaris.

Everything about your apartment upstairs was perfect, you couldn’t have been happier with any other turn out.

And truly, the main thing left for you to do before you could declare your bakery’s construction complete is your garden. The enchantments are complete, including ones to keep the planters waterproof to avoid any possible leakage, as well as keeping the air crisp and humid for your soon-to-be plant babies. You have yet to fill the planters already in place with dirt, or pick up the plants from Winter though.

But that was your main goal for the next week.

You had finally moved in the night before, after Marcus had given you the all clear. Your bill with him came out to be 120,000 gold marks, and every single one of them was well spent, as you had your perfect bakery and perfect apartment.

You had woken up this morning and made tea for yourself in your kitchen, and stared out at the lovely view you had from your massive window. There were a few younger fae out already, skating along the Sidra. It had yet to unfreeze, the temperatures had stayed low ever since you had arrived in town.

You almost felt like winter was holding on a bit tighter, just for you.

You finished your tea and breakfast around nine, then got ready for the day, dressing in one of your new winter dresses, this one in a soft pink, with delicate silver flowers embroidered along the hems of your sleeves. You threw on a white scarf, hat, and mitten set, then made your way down the stairs, and out the of what will soon be your front doors.

You were planning to find a florist this morning, as well as find a garden supply store so that you would be able to visit Viviane later in the week.

Rella had told you of a nice florist who was on the south side of the Sidra, just west of the Palace of Thread and Jewels, so you were making your way there.

The streets were rather slick this morning, so you took your time in getting to the florist’s shop, as Mor had said, there was nothing quite like eating shit before a meeting or going somewhere- which you’d had more than your fair share of in the past month and a half, running around town so often.

Finally you reached the shop, painted a sage green on the outside, and there was a garden along the side of it that you could see wrapped around to the back as well.

You walked inside, making sure to stomp the snow from your boots before you entered. At the counter was a beautiful high fae, with lovely light golden brown hair in a messy bun atop her head, a few strands escaping it and framing her gorgeous face.

“Hello,” you said with a wave as you made your way to the counter. “My name is Y/N, Rella told me that you’re a florist?” You asked hesitantly.

“Rella sent you? That was so sweet of her, make sure to tell her thank you for me, Y/N! My name is Elain, it’s lovely to meet you.” She stuck out her hand, and you got a lovely breeze of her scent, jasmine and honey- another omega. You took her hand, surprised at the grip that the delicate looking fae had. “Did you need a florist for something?”

You nodded your head, answering “Yes, I’m opening a bakery in the next couple of weeks, and I was hoping you would be able to supply seasonal flowers every week.”

“Yes, I should be able to do that. Do you have a color scheme in mind at all, or just the seasonal aspect?”

“Jus the seasonal flowers, any color combination will be lovely, I’m sure.”

Elain smiles at you, her soft chocolate eyes crinkling at the edges slightly. “Very well, Y/N. Do you know how many bouquets you’d like weekly, and a price range?”

“I suppose I’d need…” you thought on how many tables you had inside of your bakery, as well at the mantle of the fireplace. “A dozen bouquets every week, I believe. And price wise… I’m not really sure, do you have a set type of plan?” You asked, feeling unsure.

“Yes, for a dozen bouquets my base price would be around 25 gold marks a week, and for slightly larger bouquets or more rare types of flowers, it could get up to double that.”

You thought about it for a moment. “I think that I’ll let you choose whichever flowers look best together, but I don’t need very large bouquets.”

Elain pulled a contract from beneath her counter, along with a quill and pot of ink. She wrote in the details of your request, then slid the paper over to you.

You read it over, then signed it and slid the page back to Elain. You handed your bank card to her, and she pressed it to her ledger before passing it back to you. “Alright, you’re all set up to start your deliveries, when you know the exact date just come back and let me know, okay?”

You nodded your head, then finally looked around the rest of her shop. There were large bags filled with dirt, gardening tools, large displays of seeds, and even a few types of planters on display. “Oh, you sell gardening supplies too? That’s perfect!” You said, happy to have likely found everything you needed to complete your garden.

“Yes, we even have carts that you can borrow or purchase to take everything home,” Elain said, already moving from behind the counter. “Are you starting a garden, as well?” She asked.

“Yes, just a small one for a few plants and herbs I need for my baked goods,” you replied, already moving to look at the types of dirt she had on offer.

Perfect. Elain already carried dirt from the Winter Court, exactly what you needed for your plants.

“I’ll take- oh, I think ten bags of the Winter dirt, please,” you said, hoping that it would be enough to fill up your planters. “And I’ll purchase a cart as well, that will probably be handy for just about all of my shopping for the bakery,” you said with a chuckle. Elain brought a cart over, and the two of you loaded ten large bags of dirt into it.

You also grabbed a few different sizes of hand shovels and a couple of watering cans, putting them into your cart.

“Is that everything you’re needing today?” Elain asked as you approached the counter once more.

“Yes, Elain.” You handed your bank card over, and tucked it back into the collar of your dress once she gave it back. “Thank you so much, I’ll see you in a couple of weeks,” you said, moving to push your cart through the front door.

“Did you need any help with your garden at all?” Elain asked before you left.

“Not at the moment, I just need to fill my planters with dirt today. But in the next week I’ll be transplanting some things from the Winter Court,” you replied, and her brown eyes lit up.

“Would you like some help?” Elain asked brightly. “I’ve been so bored during the winter, there’s not much to tend to, I’d love to help you out,” she said, with so much hope in her voice you couldn’t refuse.

“That would be lovely, Elain. I’ll come and get you once I have the plants back here, alright?”

Elain beamed at you. “Sounds like a plan, Y/N. I’m free all of this Wednesday, if that would end up working for you. If not, I’m sure I’ll be able to slip away for a little bit,” Elain suggested.

“I’ll try and get the plants here by Wednesday, Elain. Thank you again!” You said as you pushed your cart into the outdoors.

Luckily, the cart seemed to be enchanted to have the snow speared from its path, and you made it back to your home without much trouble.

Now the hard part: getting all of the dirt upstairs and into the planters.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

It took you a few hours to finish the planters off, and you were more than ready to wash the dirt from your skin by the time three in the afternoon rolled around, but you forced yourself to write a letter to Viviane, asking to come and grab the plants Wednesday morning before you did so.

You ran hot water in the tub, then let it fill up while you stripped your clothes from your skin and placed them in your laundry bin. You slipped into the tub, loving how your wings were able to sink beneath the water comfortably as well.

It was the first time they would have a proper wash in over a month, and you were looking forward to how soft and fluffy your feather would feel afterwards.

Taking your time, you spent over an hour in the bath carefully washing the first and debris from your wings, refilling the tub once so you could rinse clean. Afterwards, you wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel, one that was so soft that you had bought all of your towels from the same vendor, even for the bakery, in varying shades of blues, pinks, and purples.

A reply from Viviane had landed on your desk while you were bathing, confirming that she would pick you up in front of Mor’s townhome at eight on Wednesday morning.

You’d considered buying baking supplies and bakeware today, but after the hauling of dirt you were too tired, and nothing sounded better than getting a takeout from Sevenda’s and curling up on the couch in front of your fireplace with the third Healer of Time book.

But getting Sevenda’s would require going outside again, and going across the Sidra…

You had the ingredients for the chicken curry you had made on your second night in Velaris, and that, you supposed, would be less daunting of a task than leaving your home.

You got dressed in a soft sweater dress, another recent purchase of yours, and let yourself read for a half an hour on the couch, until your stomach was growling at you to loudly to continue ignoring. Fine. I will make the damn curry.

You stood up from your couch and went into the kitchen, chopping and stirring and waiting until finally you had your dinner. Your cooking skills had improved in the month and a half since you’d made this recipe, and you could tell in the taste of the curry.

Seated at the table, you read while you ate, so lost in the gripping story that you hadn’t realized you were done with your food until you ate a spoonful of nothing.

“Oh,” you said to yourself, then got up and rinsed your bowl out. You were so tired already, and it was barely six in the evening.

Today would be a good day to start getting back into a baking sleep schedule, if you were so tired already… And then you would be able to get up bright and early in the morning, make yourself some breakfast, then head to the Palace of Bone and Salt to buy enough baking supplies to make each of your recipes three times, to make sure you still have all of the techniques you need down pat before your grand opening.

Grand opening. You could hardly believe it, you’re so close to your dream becoming a reality, and it’s been almost nothing but fun the entire journey.

That was definitely in part to the wonderful fae you’d met in Velaris, each one that you worked with you helpful and friendly. You truly couldn’t have asked for a better start to your new life here.

You allowed yourself to read until seven thirty, then forced yourself to get into bed.

It took a little while for you to fall asleep, even with being tired, but soon enough you drifted off, thoughts filled with bags of flour and the pastries you would make tomorrow.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Picking out your bakeware took you longer than expected.

Did you want glass or metal bowls? Pink or blue ceramic? Wooden utensils or metal utensils? You were so indecisive, trying to choose between whatever you liked most and trying to have a color scheme- but then you realized it doesn’t matter, all of them will be used for the same purpose.

And if you love all of your bakeware, then who cares if they don’t match?

So you’d gotten possibly double of everything that you needed, but that would just make it easier for you to do more batches or different things at once in the future. And you’re fine with that.

You’d carefully made your way home, trying your best not to break any of your new dishes.

Your only casualty was a cute mixing bowl you’d picked up for your personal kitchen, it was pink with little duckies all around it. You would get another at some point.

It took you two hours to have everything arranged the way you wanted, and immediately after getting your kitchen set up you went out again pushing your cart back to the Palace of Bone and Salt to get your baking ingredients. That shopping trip took you a bit over an hour, and by the time you got home you were tired once more, but more than ready to start baking again.

You had never gone much over a week without baking, ever since you were six years old. You felt like apart of you had been ripped away, until your hands finally sank into dough once more.

It was magical, how happy baking makes you. You baked for the rest of the night, probably eating far too many pastries for dinner, but you don’t care, because they’re pastries you baked, in your bakery.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Two days later, it was Wednesday, and Viviane had picked you up as promised.

“So, how’s Velaris treating you so far?” She asked as the two of you were on your knees in the greenhouse, working to free the last of three hornberry bushes you needed.

“It’s been amazing so far, the change of pace as been absolutely wonderful, and getting closer to the grand opening of the bakery I’m getting more and more excited! And everyone has been so kind so far, I feel so welcome.”

Your four combined hands finally pulled the bush out of the ground, and you carefully placed it in the cart holding the rest of your plants.

“That’s so great to hear, Y/N. I’m glad you’re settling in well, you deserve it after all you’ve been through,” Viviane said, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Did you need any other plants, dear?”

You looked over the cart thoroughly. “Nope, that’s all I need Viv. Thank you so much!”

“Of course, Y/N! You know this section of the garden practically belongs to you, right? You and your grandmother are the reason our birth rates and overall health as a court have gone up. If you need anything else from here, just write me again, okay?”

You nodded, smiling gratefully at her. “Oh, by the way, the money you gave me was far too much,” you said, and Viviane opened her mouth to speak. “But it is very much appreciated, Viv. It’s made getting the bakery perfect so easy.”

Viviane grinned at you. “I knew it was the right choice, telling you once you were already in Velaris,” she said with a laugh.

“That’s true, I would never have accepted it,” you agreed, chuckling along with her.

The two of you stood from where you were kneeling, dusting the dirt from your dresses. “Are you ready to see my bakery?” You asked, holding your arm out for Viviane to take.

“I have been since before it was built, Y/N,” Viviane replied, taking your arm and winnowing the both of you back to Mor’s townhouse. “Lead the way, dear.”

The two of you trekked back to your bakery, taking longer than usual with the cart’s wheels snagging on the snow.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s perfect!”

Your front doors had been delivered yesterday, perfectly depicting the change from dawn to day to night while snow falls over the Sidra, more beautiful than you had thought it could be.

“Isn’t it?” You asked dreamily, still slightly disbelieving that it was real, even when you’d been living here for the past five days. “Come on, let me show you the inside,” you said, unlocking the doors and dragging the cart inside after Viviane had entered.

“This is so cute! I wish you were open right now, I’ve been dying for one of your hornberry tarts. Leo does a good job, but I don’t think he’ll ever get them perfectly like yours, Y/N,” Viviane said, referencing the pasty chef you’d trained before moving.

“Well, if you come back for the opening or any time after, I’ll make sure you get a few to take home with you. I’m sure Kallias would like some as well,” you remarked with a smile, recalling how fond the High Lord was of your pastries.

“He’ll probably join me once you’re open, he won’t say it but I know he misses your baking. He does this cute little pouty face whenever something doesn’t taste perfect,” Viviane said, always ready to talk about her alpha. “Well, I’d better get going Y/N, I have a few meetings I need to get to, but let me know when your opening is and I’ll do my best to stop by.”

“I will, Viv. Winnow safe, okay?” You said as the two of you hugged, taking in one last breath of her calming snow and cranberry scent.

“I will, dear. Have fun planting!” Viviane said, winnowing away after giving a little wave goodbye.

You immediately set to taking the plants upstairs as quickly as you could, wanting to get Elain over at a reasonable hour.

It was eleven thirty when you finished, each and every last plant taken up the spiral staircase and placed next to the planter it would be replanted in.

You washed your hands, then put your winter wear on and headed into the city, going straight for Elain’s shop. When you arrived, the door was locked, so you knocked loudly on it. Elain came to the door a moment later, already dressed to leave the indoors.

“Lovely, Y/N, I’m so glad you could make it today!” Elain said excitedly, locking her shop up behind her. “And I get to see your bakery, I’m excited for that too!”

The two of you made your way to your bakery slowly, the two of you appreciating the people milling about as you walked.

“This is a gorgeous bakery you’ve got, Y/N,” Elain said once the two of you were standing in front of it, you unlocking the door.

“Thank you, Elain,” you said, swinging the door open and letting Elain inside.

“Oh, the inside is so adorable! Now I have such good ideas for your bouquets, after seeing the space. I’m thinking a blue flower in every weeks bunches, keep the winter theme going a bit.”

“I love that idea, Elain, that’s perfect!” You led her to the kitchen and up the stairs, and she rushed towards the garden.

“This is amazing! Who did your enchantments?” Elain asked once she was in the garden, the air even colder than it was outside.

“Gabrella, in the Palace of Flame and Steel,” you replied, joining her in the garden. “And this is my little garden,I’m excited to get everything planted. And please, don’t feel obligated to stay at any point, though I do truly appreciate your help.”

“I love to see new plants, and I’ve never seen any of these before. I’m guessing they’re native to the Winter Court, with the dirt you bought and the climate you’ve got here,” Elain said, hitting the nail on the head.

“You would be right, Elain. I use all of them in my pastries. All of them are pretty easy to plant, just make sure their roots are covered and then water them until the soil is completely soaked,” you informed Elain, already kneeling in front of one of the planters.

The two of you got to work, Elain watched you plant one of the bushes before moving to her own, planting it with expert hands.

As you worked, the two of you spoke of your lives, mainly your hopes for the near future. You spoke of your bakery, how excited you were to see it finally in action, and how the people of Velaris would react to your business. Elain talked about her mate and alpha, Lucien, and how they were hoping to have children soon.

“We’ve been trying rather vigorously,” Elain tittered, and you blushed along with her.

“Well, I cannot promise that it will work for sure, but I do make a fertility pastry with these berries,” you say, pointing to the spiky berries on the hornberry bush that you were currently planting. “We have seen a significant increase in births the Winter Court over the past five years, though that could be due to the end of everyone being imprisoned.”

“Anything at all that will help, we’ve been trying for the past five years with no luck so far. As long as it tastes decent, I am willing to try anything, I’ve wanted to be a mother for so long,” Elain said, sighing after she did.

“I believe they’re rather delicious, but you’ll just have to see for yourself,” you laughed.

Within two hours, you and Elain were sitting back on your hands, looking at your now completed garden. “Thank you for your help, Elain. Would you like to go to lunch with me?” You asked, wanting to thank her in some way other than words, and you had a feeling she would turn down any monetary payment you would offer.

“I would love to, Y/N. Did you have a specific place in mind?” She asked, already getting to her feet. You followed her up, then lead her over to the kitchen sink to wash the dirt from your hands.

“There’s this great noodle place on the west end of the Palace of Hoof and Leaf, if you’re interested? Or we can go someplace else, if you’d prefer,” you offered.

“Noodles sound great,” Elain said, smiling softly at you.

“Noodles it is, then.”

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Lunch with Elain was nice, and you walked her back over to her shop before heading home. The two of you had gotten to know each other better, and you were happy to know that you might already have three omega friends in your new city, very different compared to your sold one in Winter- Viviane.

When you got back to your home, slightly surprised to see Marcus outside of your doors.

“Ah, Y/N, there you are!” He said, walking over to meet you. “I was… I was hoping that I could ask you something.” For the first time since you had met him, Marcus sounded nervous.

“Go ahead.”

“Well, I was wondering if you would like to go out to dinner with me- on a date?” He asked.

You hadn’t seen it coming. You’d enjoyed his company, yes, he was fun to talk to and nice to be around.

“I… uhm…” you started, unsure of what to say.

“Look, there’s no strings attached, if you hate it halfway through, or even right when I pick you up, we can act like it never happened, hmm?”

You considered it for a moment. Would it really be so bad to go on a date with a handsome, friendly alpha?

“Okay, yes, I’ll go out with you. What night were you thinking?” You asked, looking up at Marcus nervously.

“Would tomorrow night at six work for you?”

You nodded your head. “Yes, tomorrow would be fine,” you respond. “I’ll see you then.”

“Good, I’ll see you tomorrow night at six, Y/N,” Marcus said before departing from you with a wave, leaving you to slink inside of your bakery and contemplate what had just happened.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

“You’re going on a date with Marcus? Oo, tell me what you’re going to wear!” Mor said excitedly, clapping her hands together.

“Just a dress and some tights, Mor, nothing fancy,” you said after swallowing your bite of salad.

“Well, at least tell me you’re excited for the date?”

“I guess so.” Mor stared at you, disbelief in her eyes as she chewed the last bite of her sandwich. “What? Marcus is nice, really nice, I just don’t feel any kind of spark towards him, that’s all.”

“At least give the male an honest chance, alright?” Mor asked of you before paying for the tab. “I’ve got to run, but next week you will tell me all about the date, yes?” You nodded your head. “Good. I’ll see you next Thursday, have a good date today doll,” Mor said, pressing a kiss to your cheek before leaving the restaurant.

You finished your salad, then walked the short distance home from the restaurant in the Palace of Hoof and Leaf.

Perhaps you should be getting ready excitedly at this point already, but you knew in your heart that you wouldn’t find that spark with Marcus. After all, you’d known each other nearly two months at that point, and you’d never looked at him as anything other than a friend.

But you supposed that going on a date, even one that you know you won’t go out with again, could be fun.

So you baked for a few hours, then took a long bath to make sure their was no flour left on your body. Getting dressed was easy, you simply slipped on one of your old favorites, a cute pink wool sweater dress that goes to your knees and some warm tights. You put on a little bit of eyeliner and a tiny bit of lipstick, but it only took you ten minutes to get ready. It was only five thirty.

You picked up your book and read, already on the fourth book of the series. By five fifty five, you had on your winter wear and boots and were downstairs.

Marcus knocked on the door exactly at six, looking handsome as usual.

“Shall we go?” He asked, extending an arm to you.

You took it, then said “Yes, lead the way Marcus,” with a gentle smile.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

The date was fun, that was true. But you felt no kind of connection with Marcus besides that of a friend. He seemed to sense as much when he dropped you off at your door later that night.

“I had a wonderful time tonight, Y/N.”

“I did too, Marcus, but…” you trailed off, unsure of how to say it.

“But you don’t feel the connection?” Marcus asked, and you nodded in confirmation. “It’s alright, I had to take my chance, right? An omega as amazing and wonderful as you, well, you’re a catch to any alpha with eyes and ears, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Marcus. And I’m so sorry, I wish it could have worked out. You truly are a magnificent person, and I’ve loved getting to know you over the past two months. Friends?”

“Friends,” Marcus confirmed, giving you a brief hug before pulling away. “I’ll see you at your bakery’s opening, when was it again?”

“It will be next Friday, I’ve decided,” you declared brightly, glad that things with Marcus could still be pleasant.

“I’ll see you next Friday, Y/N,” Marcus said before walking away, leaving you on your doorstep once again.

You sighed and headed inside, going straight up to your bedroom to get undressed and wash your face. After you had, you flopped into bed, wishing that you’d been attracted to such a kind, helpful alpha.

But you’d find someone, at some point. You would meet at the right time, the perfect time, and everything would fall into place from there, you were sure of it.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

“It didn’t go well, did it?” Mor asked as you sat down across from her in the noodle restaurant.

You sighed. “No, it was a fine outing, just not a good date,” you said. “I did have fun with him, there just isn’t that connection there, you know?”

The two of you ordered quickly when the server came over, then went back to your conversation.

“Are you sure you don’t want to give it one more date?"

You nodded your head. “I’m sure, Mor. There’s no point to it, if I haven’t felt any kind of attraction in the two months we’ve known each other.”

It was Mor’s turn to sigh. “Okay, okay. Do you have any other alphas that you might like to date?” Mor asked, wiggling her brows at you.

“None that I can think of Mor, you can tell Viv that I’m happily single at the moment.”

Your food arrived then, and the two of you tucked into your food, both of you humming happily at the taste.

“So, my bakery opens tomorrow,” you said after a few minutes of comfortable silence while eating, and Mor quickly swallowed her current bite.

“Tomorrow? Oh, that’s so exciting Y/N! What time do you open? I’ll try to get there near then, but no promises, I might be sleeping in.l

“That’s fine, Mor, I’m opening at seven so I don’t really expect you to be awake at that time,” you laughed, knowing that the alpha was the opposite of a morning person.

“Mother no, I would never be up that early for anyone,” Mor giggled. “Have you sent out flyers or anything yet?”

“Yes, I had some pamphlets printed up with the menu, they’re being distributed around town as we speak!” You said brightly.

“That’s good, that’s good. I hope everything runs smoothly, Y/N, you deserve it after all of the hard work your put in.”

“Thank you, Mor. I just hope that people like my pastries.”

“Y/N, just based on that little sampler basket you brought me at the beginning of the week, the people here will go nuts over your bakery,” Mor reassured you.

You had brought a basket of pastries to every person that had helped you in starting your bakery: Mor, Marcus, Rella, Arana, Oren, and the stained glass artist, Wren. You’d actually brought five baskets to Marcus’s office, enough so that he could have a basket of his own, and plenty left for the crew that had worked so hard to bring your dream together.

“Thank you, I’m glad to hear that. I hope that you can make it tomorrow, I believe that Kallias and Viviane will be stopping in later in the day, so long as nothing pressing comes up.”

“I’ll look forward to seeing you and them tomorrow, then, Y/N,” Mor said as she gave you a quick goodbye hug, her citrus and cinnamon scent washing over you again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mor,” you said with a smile, managing to get your bank card down on the bill first.

You walked home alone, knowing that you needed to make sure everything was in order for the next morning as you went, taking a little longer to savor the warmth of the sun. It had started to warm a little bit, and most of the snow was cleared from the streets at this point.

You used your three hours before your self imposed bed time to check everything twice and make sure you had enough ingredients for everything you needed to bake in the morning, as well as plenty of tea and coffee for people to drink.

Your time to sleep went by too quickly, and soon enough it was four in the morning. You took a quick bath, then donned a comfortable lilac dress with a back scooped low enough for your wings to be free, something you’ll want as you will most likely be spending the next fifteen hours working in the kitchens and the front of house.

Finally, you thought, so happy that your grand opening is finally here.

You rushed downstairs, turning on the fae lights so that you could see your work.

Most of the pastries were done proving, and ready to go in the oven. You had plenty of your winter berry jams ready to go, all you need to do is make more dough and get it proving.

You spend the next two and a half hours working quickly and efficiently, the rush that baking on a large scale gave you fueling you on, faster than ever before.

You had just finished stocking up the pastry display cases, medicinal on the left and typical pastries on the right, when Elain showed up at the front door, bright eyes and perfect hair even at the early hour, You rushed over to unlock the door, opening it to let the sweet fae inside, and you flipped the open sign over as you shut the door.

“It smells absolutely wonderful in here Y/N. Lucien is bringing the rest of our family around, I made them all promise to show up after they devoured that basket of pastries you delivered to my house,” Elain said, shaking her head lightly at them. “I was able to try that hornberry pastry thought, it was divine. Tell me you’ve got plenty ready to go?” Elain asked.

“Oh yes, I’m already thinking it will be my most popular pastry, I’ve got two dozen ready already and another five dozen in the process of being made,” you reassured her, already going behind the counter to grab her a pastry and place it on a plate. “Here you go, and if you ever want to take some extras home, just let me know,” you said with a smile, loving that she immediately took a bite of the pastry.

“Seriously, these are so good,” Elain said, right as a crowd of people pushed through the front doors.

In first was a red headed male, who made his way straight to Elain, placing a kiss on her cheek and swiping the pastry from her fingers. Lucien, presumably.

Next in was a tall, bulky Illyrian with hazel eyes, holding hands with a beautiful fae- Nesta?

“Y/N?” Nesta asked, making her way over to your counter after she met your eyes. “I didn’t know you were the one Elain was working with, what a small world.”

You nodded your head, meeting her strong steel grey eyes. “Yes it is, I didn’t know that you were related to Elain, either. It’s nice to see you again, I’m hoping I can make it to that book club of yours in the next couple of weeks,” you said.

“That would be nice, Y/N."

“Introduce me,” the large Illyrian said after gently nudging Nesta, having followed her over.

Nesta rolled her eyes, a small but affectionate smile on her lips as she said “This is Cassian, my mate.”

Cassian stuck his large hand out for you to take, and when you did his hand practically swallowed yours. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Now, am I allowed to order right away or should I wait a little bit?” The alpha asked, eyes already turned to the pastry cases.

“You can order right now, if you’d like,” you responded, letting him look over the options for a moment.

“Oh, Nes, we are so getting the hornberry pastries, remember that little promise that you made to me?” Cassian asked, turning his mouth to Nesta’s ear, whispering something that made the fae’s face turn beet red before she nodded. “We will take two of those, plus three croissants.”

You handed them their pastries on a large plate, telling them “Bring it up here when you’re done, or if you need a to go bag.” They left the counter, Nesta still blushing profusely, even when they sat down.

You looked back to the door, seeing Mor and another Illyrian next to her, this one with shadows swirling around him, occasionally dipping into his ears. They moved over to the right side pastry case, peering through the glass at what you had on offered. You glanced away from them and back to the door, and that’s when you saw them-

The most devastatingly beautiful male and female you had ever seen, power thrumming off of them in gentle, soothing waves, and their combined scents washed over you- citrus, sea, jasmine and lilacs. A perfect, heart stopping blend of two alpha scents that set your mind and body on fire in the best possible way. You felt so awake now, so present as you stared at them both, trying to memorize their faces as quickly as you could.

This. This is the feeling you wanted to feel when you went on a date with someone.

The couple moved closer to you, and Mor introduced them.

“Y/N, this is Rhys and Feyre, our High Lord and Lady.”

Oh, Mother, you are so fucked.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Feyre said, extending two beautifully tattooed hands to grasp yours. “Mor has told us so much about you, it’s nice to finally put a face to her kind words.”

Your heart nearly stopped, you were sure of it. “It’s lovely to meet you as well, High Lady-”

“Oh none of that, please call us Feyre and Rhys,” Rhys said, his strong voice pulling your eyes away from Feyre’s hypnotic ocean eyes. His were just as mesmerizing, violet with flecks are stars in them, just as beautiful as his mate’s.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Rhys and Feyre,” you corrected, your hands still captive in Feyre’s.

“Alright you two, stop hogging my friend, I’d like to have one of her delicious pastries for breakfast,” Mor said, breaking the spell the two alphas had over you, and you finally looked away from Rhys’s eyes to lock onto Mor’s.

“Did you know what you wanted, Mor?”

“Yes, I’ll have one of those cute little cheese danishes, and a cup of coffee with some cream please.”

You nodded your head, then set to grabbing Mor’s order. With your head turned from the group, though, you couldn’t help but close your eyes.

You are so fucked. They are mates, they are a couple, you will never have them. Remember that, you thought to yourself, before turning around, Mor’s coffee and danish in hand

Mor tapped her bank card to your ledger before you could stop her, sticking her tongue out at you. “You can’t make me not pay, Y/N, I just won’t do it,” she said while smiling at you, then left the counter to take a seat in front of the fireplace, where Elain and Lucien were now sitting.

You turned your head back to the couple that you knew would stay in your thoughts for days, maybe even weeks to come. “Did you two know what you wanted?”

Series Taglist: @icey--stars @breadsticks2004

[ennawrite]

my obsession is not so much with ACOTAR itself but with the potential of what ACOTAR could be.

[dee-writes-smut]

ROSES (Chapter Nine)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x pregnant!reader

SUMMARY Eris is settling into both life as a High Lord and a new parent while also juggling the repairs needed for your relationship. Good thing he's tenacious.

CONTENT WARNINGS tooth-rotting fluff, that's all I have to say.

AUTHORS NOTE It breaks my heart to say this, but this is the last chapter in the official Flowers series. Don't fret; there will probably be spin off chapters and headcannons, but this is it as far as the main story goes. I can't simply find the words to express how grateful I am for all of you who followed me through this journey. Thank you to each and every one of you, new and old, for your support and love. I hope to see all of you in my future endeavors.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Three months had passed since the harrowing night of Eilidh’s birth, a night that had forged an unbreakable bond between you, Eris, and your daughter. The autumn leaves had begun to fall, painting the forest with vibrant hues of red and gold. The palace had a renewed energy, one that came from Eris assuming the mantle of High Lord of the Autumn Court. It was a role he embraced with a sense of duty and responsibility, balancing it with the demands of fatherhood.

Eilidh, now three months old, was a bundle of joy and curiosity. Her bright eyes, the color of rich amber, were always exploring, taking in the world around her. Her soft coos and infectious giggles filled the air, bringing warmth and light to every corner of the palace. Her presence had a calming effect on everyone, even during the most turbulent times.

Eris had become a devoted father, his transformation evident to all who knew him. He juggled his new responsibilities as High Lord with the demands of caring for Eilidh, often seen carrying her in his arms during council meetings or while handling court affairs. His love for her was palpable, his every action reflecting a deep commitment to his family.

But the road to this point had not been easy. After the night he had left you, the guilt and regret had weighed heavily on him. He had groveled, begged for your forgiveness, and worked tirelessly to prove his devotion. Every action, every word, had been an effort to make amends for the hurt he had caused.

Eris's groveling had begun the moment he had returned to your side. As soon as he saw you again, his eyes filled with tears of remorse and self-reproach. He had knelt before you, his voice trembling as he apologized, his words spilling out in a rush of desperation.

"I’m so sorry," he had whispered, his eyes pleading for your forgiveness. "I was a fool. I let my anger and jealousy cloud my judgment. I should have trusted you, should have listened. Please, forgive me."

You had looked down at him, your heart torn between the pain he had caused and the love you still felt for him. It had taken time, but you had seen the sincerity in his eyes, felt the depth of his regret.

In the days that followed, Eris had gone to great lengths to make amends. He had taken on the majority of the nighttime feedings and diaper changes, insisting that you get the rest you needed. He had brought you breakfast in bed every morning, each meal accompanied by a heartfelt note expressing his love and gratitude.

He had arranged for the palace gardens to be filled with your favorite flowers, their blooms a constant reminder of his devotion. He had planned quiet, intimate dinners, where the two of you could reconnect and share your thoughts and feelings. He had even sought counsel from the palace healers and wise elders, determined to be the best partner and father he could be.

One evening, as you rocked Eilidh to sleep, Eris had approached you, his eyes filled with determination. "I know I can't erase the past," he had said softly, "but I promise to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. You and Eilidh are my everything. I will never take you for granted again."

You had seen the truth in his words, felt the sincerity in his actions. Slowly, the walls you had built around your heart began to crumble, replaced by a renewed sense of trust and love.

Now, three months later, Eris stood by your side as you gazed down at Eilidh, who was nestled in her crib, her tiny hand clutching one of Eris's fingers. The palace had become a haven of love and laughter, a stark contrast to the tumultuous times you had endured.

"Eilidh’s growing so fast," you murmured, your voice filled with wonder.

Eris smiled, his eyes softening as he looked at his daughter. "She is," he agreed. "And she’s more beautiful every day, just like her mother."

You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?" you said softly.

"We have," Eris replied, his voice filled with pride and love. "And we’ll continue to move forward, together. As a family."

Eris's coronation ball had finally arrived, an event that had been the talk of Prythian for weeks. The Autumn Court’s palace was aglow with lanterns and magic, casting a warm, golden light that reflected off the autumn leaves that carpeted the ground. The ballroom itself was a masterpiece of design and enchantment.

The grand hall was adorned with rich tapestries depicting the history of the Autumn Court, their vibrant hues illuminated by the soft glow of chandeliers hanging from the high, arched ceiling. The floor was a polished marble, intricately patterned to resemble the fallen leaves of the season. Tables were set with fine china and crystal, each centerpiece a bouquet of autumnal flowers that filled the air with a delicate fragrance.

The atmosphere was one of celebration and anticipation. Musicians played a lively tune in one corner of the room, their music mingling with the soft murmur of conversation and laughter. Nobles and dignitaries from all courts mingled, their elegant attire a dazzling array of colors and styles.

You stood near the entrance, holding Eilidh in your arms, her tiny hand clutching a strand of your hair. Her wide eyes took in the splendor of the room, the lights reflecting in her amber irises. You wore a dress of deep crimson, its fabric flowing around you like a cascade of autumn leaves, perfectly complementing Eris's formal attire of dark, intricately embroidered robes that signified his new status as High Lord.

The Inner Circle of the Night Court arrived in a flurry of elegance and power. Rhysand, with Feyre by his side, led the group, their presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. Cassian and Azriel flanked them, their imposing figures exuding strength and confidence. Mor and Amren brought up the rear, their grace and poise adding to the group's undeniable allure.

“Congratulations,” Feyre said warmly as she approached, her eyes twinkling with genuine happiness. “Eilidh is beautiful.”

You smiled, the pride in your heart evident on your face. “Thank you, Feyre. She’s our little miracle.”

Rhysand stepped forward, his gaze softening as he looked at Eilidh. “May I?” he asked, extending his arms.

“Of course,” you replied, gently passing your daughter to him.

Rhysand cradled Eilidh with a surprising tenderness, his expression one of awe and reverence. “She’s perfect,” he murmured, brushing a kiss to her forehead. “You must be very proud.”

“We are,” you said, glancing over at Eris, who was deep in conversation with several High Lords. “She’s brought so much joy into our lives.”

Cassian and Azriel were next, each taking a turn to hold Eilidh and marvel at her tiny features. Mor cooed at her, making silly faces that had Eilidh giggling with delight. Amren, ever the enigma, simply nodded in approval, her sharp eyes betraying a rare softness.

As you watched the Inner Circle doting on your daughter, a sense of peace settled over you. These were your friends, your family, and they were here to celebrate this new chapter in your life.

“Here,” you said, gently taking Eilidh back from Amren and turning to Lucien, who had been standing quietly by your side. “Why don’t you spend some time with your niece?”

Lucien's eyes lit up as he took Eilidh in his arms. “Hey there, little one,” he whispered, his voice filled with affection. “Uncle Lucien’s got you.”

You watched as Lucien walked off with Eilidh, their heads close together as he spoke to her in hushed tones. The bond between them was growing stronger each day, and it filled your heart with joy to see Lucien so involved in her life.

Turning back to the ballroom, you took a moment to appreciate the grandeur of the occasion. The walls were lined with flickering candles, their flames casting a warm, inviting glow. The ceiling was enchanted to mirror the night sky, a tapestry of stars twinkling above. The music had shifted to a more formal tune, signaling the beginning of the night's official proceedings.

Eris stood at the head of the room, his presence commanding and regal. He caught your eye and smiled, a look of love and gratitude passing between you. Tonight was a night of celebration, but it was also a night of reaffirmation – of the love and commitment you shared, and of the bright future that lay ahead for you, Eris, and Eilidh.

The High Lords and their entourages took their places, the atmosphere in the room shifted, becoming one of anticipation and reverence. This was a momentous occasion, the dawn of a new era for the Autumn Court under Eris’s leadership.

As the evening wore on, the grand ballroom of the Autumn Court was filled with an air of contentment and celebration. The official proceedings had concluded, and the mood had shifted to one of relaxed enjoyment. Guests mingled, their laughter mingling with the soft strains of the orchestra that now played a gentle waltz.

Eris, who had been engaged in conversations with various dignitaries, finally found a moment to break away. His eyes scanned the room, searching for you amidst the sea of elegantly dressed guests. When he found you, standing near the edge of the dance floor and watching Lucien proudly show Eilidh to Elain, a tender smile spread across his face.

He crossed the room with purpose, his movements graceful and assured. As he reached you, he extended his hand, a silent invitation that spoke volumes. "May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice warm and inviting.

You took his hand, your heart fluttering at the touch. "I would love to," you replied softly.

Eris led you onto the dance floor, the crowd parting to make way for the two of you. The orchestra began to play a new melody, one that seemed to capture the essence of the moment – a blend of joy, love, and a touch of nostalgia.

As you stepped into Eris's embrace, the world around you seemed to fade away. His hand rested lightly on your waist, guiding you effortlessly through the steps of the dance. Your free hand found its place on his shoulder, and you moved together as if you were two halves of a whole, perfectly in sync.

The dance floor felt like a canvas, and you and Eris were the artists, painting a picture of grace and elegance with each step. The marble beneath your feet seemed to shimmer with every movement, reflecting the golden glow of the chandeliers above. The flickering candlelight cast a warm, inviting glow on your faces, highlighting the emotions that played across your features.

Eris's eyes never left yours, his gaze intense and filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. There was love there, yes, but also admiration, gratitude, and a sense of profound connection. It was as if the entire journey you had shared – the hardships, the joys, the moments of doubt and the moments of certainty – were encapsulated in this one, perfect dance.

The music swelled, and Eris spun you gently, your dress flaring out like a burst of autumn leaves caught in a gentle breeze. As you came back to him, he pulled you closer, his grip tightening ever so slightly as if to reassure himself that you were truly there with him.

"I never imagined this," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the music. "That we would be here, together, like this."

You smiled, your heart swelling with emotion. "Neither did I," you replied. "But I wouldn't trade it for anything."

As the dance continued, you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment, in the feel of Eris's strong arms around you, the warmth of his body against yours, the way he moved with a confidence and grace that was uniquely his. The world outside the dance floor ceased to exist; there was only the two of you, and the beautiful, intricate dance you shared.

Meanwhile, at the edge of the ballroom, Lucien stood with Elain, who was holding Eilidh. He watched you and Eris with a fond smile, feeling a sense of peace and contentment as he saw how happy you were. Elain cooed at Eilidh, who giggled in response, her tiny hands reaching out to grasp at the sparkling lights.

"She looks so much like you," Elain said softly, her eyes warm as she looked at Lucien.

Lucien chuckled, his gaze softening as he looked at his daughter. "She has her mother's spirit," he replied. "And a bit of her uncle's mischief, I think."

Elain laughed, a musical sound that blended perfectly with the joyous atmosphere of the evening. "She's lucky to have so many people who love her."

Lucien nodded, his heart full. "Yes, she is."

As the dance drew to a close, Eris pulled you even closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. "I love you," he whispered, the words a promise and a vow.

"I love you too," you replied, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions.

The music faded, and the room erupted in applause, the guests acknowledging the beauty of the moment you and Eris had shared. But for you, the applause was just background noise. What mattered was the man in front of you, the love you saw in his eyes, and the future you knew you would face together, hand in hand.

Just as another song began, Lucien appeared at your side with your daughter in his arms. “She’s been quite the hit tonight,” Lucien said with a grin, carefully handing your daughter to Eris.

Eris took Eilidh with a tenderness that melted your heart, and you couldn’t help but marvel at the sight of the two of them together. “Thank you, Lucien,” Eris said sincerely, his eyes meeting his brother’s with a newfound understanding.

Lucien nodded, stepping back to give you both space. Eris cradled Eilidh between you, her tiny form a perfect blend of the two of you. As you continued to dance, your daughter nestled close, the moment felt like a dream.

The music slowed, and you felt the world shift around you, as if everything had aligned in that single, perfect moment. The love you felt for Eris and Eilidh was overwhelming, a powerful force that filled your heart to bursting.

And then, it happened. A sudden, undeniable snap that resonated deep within your soul. The mating bond. It surged between you and Eris, a connection that was as ancient as it was unbreakable. You gasped, feeling the intensity of it wash over you, binding you to him in a way that was profound and eternal.

Eris’s eyes widened, and he pulled you closer, his grip tightening around you and Eilidh. “Did you feel that?” he whispered, awe and wonder in his voice.

You nodded, tears of joy welling in your eyes. “Yes,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with emotion. “I felt it.”

The bond was a revelation, a confirmation of what you had always known in your heart. You were meant to be together, to share your lives and your love, to build a future that was as bright and beautiful as the stars above.

As the last notes of the music played, you and Eris stood together, your daughter cradled between you, the bond of love and family wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. It was a moment of pure magic, a testament to the journey you had taken and the love that had blossomed along the way.

And as you looked into Eris’s eyes, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, bound by love, fate, and the unbreakable bond that had finally snapped into place.

TAGLIST

@purple-writer8 @defnotlucienvanserra @cherry-cin @julesvanslutta @mirandasidefics @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @littlestw01f @skylarkalchemist @babypeapoddd @daardyrnitta @talesofadragon @thecraziestcrayon @asaucecoveredsomething @starryhiraeth @darling006 @rosewood-cafe @saltedcoffeescotch @dumblani @paleidiot @rcarbo1 @yourmomsushi

[siriuslystyle1989]

The Only Exception

Lucien Vanserra x Fem!reader

Summary: When Your husband, Lucien finds out Elain is his mate, you decide to give him an ultimatum.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Lucien being the best

masterlist

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In a slight daze, Y/n lounged on the couch, her left hand grasping a mug of tea and her right hand clutching her latest read.

Lucien was in the night court helping their mutual friend, Feyre. Leaving Y/n alone with only her book as company.

But she was bored now. She wanted Lucien. She wanted him to walk into their shared home, scoop her up, let her nuzzle herself into his neck, kiss him.

Letting out an almost exasperated sigh, she looked at the clock and subsequently realised her husband was due home any moment.

Still, she remained reading hoping that time would somehow speed up if she was occupied.

"Y/n?" Lucien's voice travelled through the air causing the girl to jump and move to the entrance of their home.

'Luc!" She smiled, moving to hug the man who kissed her hair as he wrapped his arms around her smaller frame.

"What's wrong?" Y/n spoke suddenly, sensing something was amis with her lover.

"Nothings wrong baby, let's move to the living room." Lucien reassured her, guiding her back inside the house.

Y/n sat down, looking up at Lucien who ran a hand through his long auburn hair.

Her brows furrowed as she spoke "Luc, what's happened?" hesitance lacing her tone.

"I need to tell you something." He replied, getting on his knees in front of her, placing a hand on each of her legs.

Y/n nodded, anxiety bubbling up in her stomach.

Lucien sucked in a deep breath of air.

"Y/n."

A pause.

"I've found my mate."

Y/n shook her head slightly in disbelief, she could feel tears welling up in her eyes as her world came crashing down.

'But-" Lucien tried to speak as she cut him off.

"Wh- who?" Y/n asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Elain. Elain Archeron."

"Feyre's sister?"

Lucien nodded, looking into his wife's eyes.

"But Y/n-"

"If you want to be with her I understand, but tell me now. I don't want to be told in a few years if you suddenly decide that she's all you want-

"Y/n that's the thing-"

" -and I promise I won't be mad at you, we can still be friends. It's completely fine-" Y/n rambled, half for Lucien half for herself.

Tears now freely spilling down her cheeks, Y/n continued speaking.

"-But really if you want to be with Elain I understand, she's beautiful and really-"

"Y/n!" Lucien shouted louder, attempting to calm the girls incessant chatter.

"Sweetheart. What I was trying to tell you was that I've already rejected the bond.

"You- what?" Y/n uttered looking into her husband's eyes.

"Of course I did you silly girl." He smiled, moving a hand to her face to wipe away her tears.

"You're all I want my love. Cauldron be damned."

At this, Y/n flung her arms around Lucien, holding him as tight as possible, still sniffling.

"I love you." she mumbled into his neck.

Lucien ran his fingers through her hair as he forced her to look at him. He began gently kissing away her tears.

"I love you more than you'll ever know, my sweet girl."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I'm back!!!

Can you guys tell that i'm obsessed with Lucien?

[thesunloveschips]

Eye of the Storm - Chapter 17: The Sovereign, the Slayer, and the Seer.

Summary: In the wake of Rhysand’s ascension as High Lord, the Bone Carver gifts a prophecy. More than five hundred years later, Azriel continues to wait for the one who is finally reborn as his High Lady’s sister. All it takes is a dip in the Cauldron for things to start falling into place.

Chapter Summary: Azriel and Nyra are sweet. Also, Nyra wields her power in different ways.

Author's message: This is the last chapter before a time skip where I'm going to speed up things by inserting all the fluff and the smut I wrote in the office, the public transport, and everywhere I got carried away.

@feerique always and eternally grateful to you!!✨✨

Word count: 6.8k (Enjoy!!)

Click here to access the Masterlist of the Eye of the Storm

****

Nyra remembered the day she poisoned her mother for the first time. 

It hurt every time her mother slashed her palm, seeing Nesta being moulded into something else, seeing Elain and Feyre walking on eggshells every day. 

Their mother had plans for them—Nyra to be poisoned, Nesta married to an old duke, Elain and Feyre sent to a horrible aunt. It was too much. Everyone was at risk. And their father was as unreliable and absent as ever. 

There was also the story of left-handed women in the Archeron family. Long before the partition of the lands between the fae and humans, their ancestors had resided in a land of snow, the proof of which lived on in their blue eyes. 

One ancestor had been summoned by a fae who prophesied about a left-handed female born into the family with a fate woven in darkness. To prevent that, the fae suggested forcing the left-handed ones to ‘become’ right-handed. 

That led to the cruel practice of slashing the left palms of left-handed girls, to force them to use their right hand. Failure to do so before puberty resulted in poisoning to death. No left-handed girl in the family survived.

Her mother had started slashing her palm every three to four weeks somewhere around the age of five and had started poisoning her by the age of twelve, nearing puberty. Death awaited her but that was merciful compared to the life her sisters would’ve lived.

So she did it. 

She poisoned her mother, passed it off as an illness, and the horrible woman finally passed away. 

Back then, Nyra had been poisoned enough for an aftermath that would last her entire life as an incurable illness. 

Then came the Cauldron. And then she’d died. Really died. 

Yes. It was a very painful affair. As if she was being ripped from. . . something.

Nyra was the only one who did not remember the kidnapping or how she’d been thrown into the Cauldron. Her only vague memory was about being drenched, walking, laying down, and a blue light before everything turned black. 

Her left hand had begun trembling and her scar reminded her of Azriel’s hands. 

“My half brothers were not pleased with the existence of a bastard. They wanted to test if their father’s illegitimate progeny had enough healing prowess so. . . they. .” 

Azriel hesitated to continue. Nyra hummed, looking at the night sky. She laid her head against his arm and continued to not look at him even though she felt his gaze on her. 

“What do you think of it?” Nyra straightened herself and looked at him, caught unaware by his question. He seemed expectant and nervous. 

“I don’t have the right to have an opinion, Az.”  She answered softly.

“I am a bastard.” 

“And?”

“My hands are like this.”

“And?” 

“Surely you must think something about it.”

Nyra looked at the night sky. “Why do you sound like you’re trying to push me away?” 

She now turned to him fully, angling her body accordingly. “It’s like you’re asking me to- I don’t know. What are you trying to do? Stop me from wanting to be your friend?” 

Azriel had nothing to say. He looked down at his scarred hands like an admonished child. 

“I’m not- I don’t even know what to say. Just. . Ugh!” That was the first time Nyra had ever let herself make a sound like that. Let herself not be ladylike as her mother had demanded. “Do you hate me or something?” 

“I don’t hate you.” He immediately spoke, sounding panicked. 

“I think you’re brave.” She whispered. “I also think that if your half brothers were alive, I might’ve struck them with lightning. Or poisoned them.” 

“Murder is a crime.” Azriel tried to joke. She found him so adorable. 

“Nobody can tell if I summoned the lightning or if it was actually a natural disaster.” She drawled with a smile.

“I can.” Azriel was now amused. 

“I’d like to think that if I were murdering someone, you’d wait with a shovel to hide the body.”  

Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. “I think I might just hand you the Truth Teller for your murder.”

“Wouldn’t want anything to happen to your pretty knife, Az.” 

“That pretty knife has drawn much blood.” 

“It’s too late for me.” Her words might have sounded out of context but the way Azriel’s features morphed into surprise, she knew he’d understood. 

“You. . .” He was looking at her again, lips parted. 

“What?” She laughed.

“I didn’t. . . I. .”

“I suppose it’s baffling.” 

“Consider me baffled.” He exhaled and looked straight ahead. “Wow. That’s. . .”

“Scary?”

“Surprising, baffling, mind blowing, yes. Scary, no.” 

“Would be the shock of anyone’s life if a woman like me scared the Spymaster of the Night Court.”

Azriel immediately looked at her, his gaze shaking her soul. “You’re a myriad of mysteries, Nyra Archeron, and I may be too curious for my own good.” 

She looked away with a smile, closing her eyes. 

“How about we exchange secrets?” Azriel’s proposal was tempting. Feeding her desire to know the elusive Spymaster. 

“Go on.”

“I was twelve when I first killed.” 

And Nyra grinned brightly at that. “Same!” 

It was strange to be talking and bonding over such topics but Azriel looked at her and grinned back. And under the night sky with a crescent moon hanging over them, they’d confessed everything about their first kill. 

By the end of that conversation, Azriel had an arm around Nyra’s shoulder and she was leaning against him. 

“I feel light.” He spoke softly. And she knew she felt the same. Years of bottling things up and she was finally unravelled. 

“I want to tell Feyre and Elain.” About how she’d killed their mother.

“Feeling ready?”

“I feel light.” She repeated his words and looked at him. If life was a little better, kinder, maybe they would’ve kissed. But this was the best of reality and this moment would continue to live in her memory. 

He squeezed her arm and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead and reality became infinitely more beautiful. 

Nyra smiled. 

The timing was bad. 

War was inevitable. The king wanted the Archeron sisters. Everyone was preparing. Nyra was learning to control her powers and access more information from her archives but. . . She was so attracted to Azriel. 

In her defence, Azriel should not be so. . . perfect. 

He was kind and so sweet to her. Always so patient and made time for her. Such a wonderful soul. So reliable. 

And he had a great face. That was just. . . Nyra clutched her sheets and turned over to the other side. And she turned again. 

She would’ve liked to complain because how was his every movement so sensual? And why did he spar shirtless? 

Nyra continued yawning but she couldn’t sleep. The first light of dawn peeked in from the corners of the curtains. 

Frustrated, she grabbed a robe and stepped out, walking through the dimly lit corridor. She reached the staircase and since she’d never been upstairs, she ascended. A door was ajar and she could see the lavender sky before the sun truly appeared for the day. 

As she neared it, the light of the dawn was covered by the glaring darkness. Dark swirls wafted over to her and stopped in front of her. 

She lifted a hand as she always did and welcomed the shadows to play with her. They perched themselves on her head and shoulders and crawled along the skirts and sleeves of her robe and finally played with her fingers and cheeks. Their cool touch made her sleepier. 

The call of her name jolted her from her haze. Feyre was standing by the door. 

“Hello.” She sounded so tired and sleepy and soft. Feyre took her hand and took her with her. The terrace of the House of Wind was in fact an open space and Cassian was yelling and Nyra nearly stumbled only for the shadows to catch her waist. 

“Careful.” Feyre warned, immediately at her side now that she’d realised her sleepy sister might need more assistance if she were to reach anywhere safely. 

The shadows were cool and so gentle and their wispy sounds were lulling her to sleep so nicely. Feyre helped her lean against a wall somewhere and Nyra no longer felt her hand. 

She enjoyed the sensation of the shadows massaging her head and shoulders and hands. And she was so sleepy she could simply fall and not care where she fell. 

“Nyra!” The loud voice jolted her from her haze. Was that Cassian?

“You woke her up, idiot.” Another voice came, low and deep and she could fall in that voice and sleep there. 

“Overprotective bastard.” A male laugh followed that comment. 

Footsteps and more voices and she forced herself to open her eyes. Her vision took their time to clear up and finally revealed three shirtless Illyrians to her. Nyra blinked and then frowned. 

“Won’t you catch a cold?” She meant to sound stern but she sounded too soft. A yawn escaped her. 

“I’ll be fine. Feyre darling is here to warm me up.” Rhysand sounded like he was eagerly waiting for that.

“And Cassian and Azriel will warm each other up?” She asked, her head tilting to the side. 

“You’re welcome to join us, Nyra.” Cassian grinned and she couldn’t help her smile at the early morning teasing. 

“I’d like to sleep.”

“You’d be missing out.” Cassian teased again and received another yawn as a reply. 

“Wouldn’t you rather have Azriel all to yourself?” Nyra smiled softly. She looked at Azriel and frowned. “Where are your shadows?”

The shadowsinger smiled at her. “With you.” 

And as if they wanted to remind her, one of the tendrils tugged at her fingers. She looked down at her hand and found shadows on her hands and the length of her robe. 

“Do you want to go back to your room?” Azriel asked. He sounded kind and his intentions were kind and her stupid self didn’t even bother registering that because his voice was far too sensual to her ears and it made her shiver. 

“You’re cold.” Azriel noted. And when her eyes cooperated with her, she found herself in front of a very sweaty, shirtless Azriel whose chest glowed in the early light of dawn. She blinked, took a step back, and lost her balance. 

Azriel had moved faster than she could comprehend and had caught her but sleep was betraying her for the second time that morning by abandoning her when she needed it the most. 

Because how was anyone supposed to see a shirtless Azriel in close proximity and remain standing? Nyra did not know how so she frowned. 

“I’m not cold.” She mumbled as the shadowsinger helped her stand straight. Her cheeks were warming up.

“And sleepy.” He helped her stand straight. “Come on, I’ll take you to your room.” Azriel placed his arms behind her back and legs and lifted her.

“I was not sleepy earlier when I left my room.” She mumbled, her head laying against his chest. His heartbeat was a beautiful sound. It was speeding up. “Your heartbeat is fast.” 

“I’ve been training awhile now, Nyra.” He made her name sound nicer than it usually was. Made her feel cherished with the way he called her name. 

And she wanted to do that for him. She wanted to love him. To cherish him. 

And she felt herself smile. 

This was. . . freeing.

Was this how it was?

To have a heart without inhibitions or doubts? 

How easy was it to see his face and forget everything else?

“Hm.” She turned her head towards his chest. “You smell nice.”

“I’m sweaty.” He had begun descending the stairs. She could feel it in the way he moved with her in his arms.

“Still nice.” And she found that comfortable space. With the shadows caressing her and Azriel’s warmth and the sound of his heartbeat, she floated away into the cosy dark. 

The realisation that her heart was leaving her to be somebody else’s affected her in a way she did not quite understand. But it was Azriel. . .

Nyra turned to the other side and slept soundly.

****

“What?” Feyre asked, amused by Cassian glancing at her for the third time. She had just entered wearing that starlit gown.

“You just look so. . .” 

“Here we go.” Mor muttered from beside Nyra. 

“Official.” Cassian looked at Mor incredulously. “Fancy.” 

Nyra snorted and Cassian scowled at her. Azriel chuckled from the front door as he entered. His besotted shadows were already floating towards Nyra. 

“Over five hundred years old. A skilled warrior and general, famous throughout territories, and complimenting ladies is still something he finds next to impossible. Remind me why we bring you to diplomatic meetings?” Mor shook her head, feigning disappointment.

When the shadowsinger laughed again, Cassian glared at him. “I don’t see you resorting to poetry, brother.”

Azriel crossed his arms, smiling faintly at the sight of Nyra and his shadows. “I don’t need to resort to it.” 

Nyra looked up at him with a teasing smile. “Really?”

Azriel stared at her, wide eyed at having been caught off guard. He looked away as his cheeks warmed while the greedy little shadows tugged at her fingers, demanding her attention again. And while she fondly played with them, Rhys had appeared. 

“I thought you were leaving.” Nesta’s voice came from atop the stairs. She descended, moved past Cassian and Morrigan, and stopped near Nyra. She patted her twin on the head and walked towards Feyre to declare her intention to go with them. 

“As High Lady, Feyre is no longer my emissary to the human world.” Rhysand smiled at Nesta. “Want the job?”

A spark flared in those silvery blue eyes. “Consider this meeting a trial basis. And I’ll make you pay through the teeth for my services.”

Rhys bowed a little. “I would expect nothing less of an Archeron sister. Welcome to the court. You’re about to have one hell of a first day.” 

Nesta smiled, something unexpected for most of them. She went over to Nyra and sat on the armrest. “Are you okay?”

“Not good, not bad.” Nyra replied. 

Rhysand looked over at Nyra. “Interested in being an emissary, Nyra?”

She looked at him, contemplated the offer, and replied. “When I’m feeling better.” 

“You should.” Nesta spoke, looking at her with mild disapproval. “Make use of those languages you learned.”

“You’re fluent in those languages too.”

“Languages?” Feyre asked. 

“Eight.” Nyra raised her hand.

“Seven.” Nesta raised her hand.

“When?” Rhysand was stupefied. Languages in the mortal and fae lands were quite similar owing to the coexistence of both species until five hundred years ago. 

“Mother nearly screeched at us to learn five. We got carried away.” Nyra answered. 

“I’m not the one who learned another language just to talk to someone she’d only met.” Nesta muttered.

“Tell me about this.” Cassian eagerly asked, forgetting that he was supposed to remain nonchalant with Nesta. 

Nesta looked at him, surprised. She simply stared at him before finally speaking. “Once upon a time, Nyra wanted to talk to someone. But he did not speak any languages we were fluent in. So she learned his language and finally spoke to him.”

“Him?” Rhysand was now grinning like a cat and watching an utterly stone faced Azriel.

“Shut up.” Nyra muttered. The shadows had begun tugging on her fingers, as if someone would somehow take her away. 

“Two minutes into the conversation and she pushes him from the balcony.” Nesta concluded, earning a shocked look from all.

“As she should.” Azriel muttered. 

Nyra looked up at him in disbelief. “You don’t even know what happened.”

Azriel walked over and laid a possessive arm around her. He squeezed the flesh of her shoulder to remind himself that she was here in front of him. “I don’t need to.” 

Azriel simply watched her. He could watch her for so long. Her eyes as they brightened and dimmed during conversations. The movement of her mouth as she spoke and laughed and frowned or cried. 

And she was so willing to allow his scarred hands to touch her. 

Azriel had held Nyra a few times. And he was always marvelling at how unbelievably soft she was. For someone like him, she was so easily pressed against him. 

And he wrapped her in his arms for a hug. When Nyra looked up at him, confused, Azriel realised what he’d done. “My mother likes hugs during her cycle.” 

It was true. 

“She sounds nice.” Nyra pressed her cheek against his chest and closed her eyes in contentment. “Warm hugs are nice.”

At this moment, where war was imminent, Azriel wanted to marry this female. 

Because every moment with her would be worth a lifetime of waiting and an unpredictable future. 

He heard her breathing pattern became even. She was comfortable and about to fall asleep. “Don’t fall asleep on me now.” 

“I won’t.” Nyra sounded tired and ready to fall asleep in his arms and Azriel was sure he would not leave if that happened. He looked at the people around him. 

His stupid brothers were grinning with Feyre soon picking up on the feel of the family. He was already suspicious of Mor being attracted to Nyra. The appearance of Elain at the end of the corridor, walking towards them, caught his eye. 

Elain looked at him and then at Nyra and hurried over. She took Nyra from Azriel’s arms and made her sit. Azriel knelt before her and took her hand. “Sleepy?”

“Hm.”

“Does it hurt?” 

Nyra sat straight, a little alert. “. . . no.” 

“Your tea will be ready soon.” 

“Hm.” Nyra looked at him and frowned when she realised something. “Don’t you have to go?”

“I do.”

“Then why are you still here?”

And could he ever answer that with the truth? That he wanted to be with her and take care of her. And that every moment he took here was his selfishness trying to salvage every scrap of a shared moment. 

At that moment, Rhysand walked over and patted her head with a fond smile. “Tea is on the second shelf from the top right. You know where the mugs are. Books are in the family library but if you need more from downstairs, Azriel’s shadows can get them for you. And-”

“If you want to go to the priestess’ library, ask Clotho for Inanna.” Mor interrupted her cousin. “There’s an ample supply of snacks and if you want something else, just tell the wraiths and they’ll get it for you. And-”

“Tell the shadows if you need anything.” It was Azriel’s turn now. “Tea, cheesecake, books, anything. They’ll get it for you. And if you want to go outside, tell them. They’ll take you wherever you wish.” 

“Do they go shopping?”

“Yes.” He’d discovered that recently when the shadows started spending his money on dresses that they were delighted when Nyra wore. He had no clue exactly which dresses they’d bought and Nyra knew nothing. 

We bought all of them. The little bastards sounded entirely proud. 

Look at the sage green she’s wearing now. 

Very demure. 

Very adorable. 

And we were very mindful. 

They were in their own world, celebrating as if they’d achieved something and Azriel did not even say anything because Nyra looked really. . . gods, he wanted to tear out his heart and give it to her. 

“No going back now.” Cassian grinned. 

Rhysand’s wings were now visible and as Nyra learned, it would be seen by the other High Lords and their diplomats for the first time. “I figure it’s time for the world to know who really has the largest wingspan.”

“Wingspan?” Nyra asked. 

Mor sauntered over with an impish grin. Azriel twirled Nyra around, shielding her from the blonde female but that didn’t deter Mor from nearly shouting. “Azriel has the largest-” Feyre nearly hauled her away. 

“Feyre. She needs to know this. It’s absolutely important.” Morrigan protested as if she’s been stopped from divulging the secret of the universe. “Azriel has the largest mmfph-” Feyre covered Mor’s mouth but the rest of the sentence was not hard for Nyra to guess. 

And Nyra who had been cornered by Azriel looked up at him with an amused smile. “Does the wingspan mean something else?”

Azriel closed his eyes and sighed. He didn’t know how to answer that. He opened his eyes and found himself enamoured by her. 

“Is that why you don’t resort to poetry?” She tilted her head with a smile, completely swept away by the urge to tease him. 

Azriel met her gaze. He did not blush, did not shy away, but looked at her with intent. He leaned down to her ear and whispered. “Would you like to find out?” 

Nyra’s smile was no more. The intensity in his eyes was beginning to be reflected in her own. She saw his gaze fall from her eyes to her lips. 

Something more powerful than lightning crackled between them. 

Nyra, now aware of her own attraction towards him, was not in control of her words or actions. 

Azriel, on the other hand, had simply succumbed to the odd bit of courage and had not expected the way she reacted. 

She’s attracted. She finds you attractive! The shadows nearly blew his eardrums with their cheers. Kiss her! Kiss her, you stupid male! 

“Go to your meeting.” Nyra whispered, placing a hand on his chest. She pushed him but he did not budge. 

She met his gaze and saw his yearning. Nyra really hoped she wasn’t hallucinating because if this male was yearning for her, then. . . this was probably the right time to faint. 

Why hadn’t she fainted yet? 

She’d been looking at Azriel’s unreasonably attractive face for this long. Surely, she should’ve fainted by now. Meanwhile, the shadows enveloped them and brought them to another room.

Azriel placed a gentle palm on her cheek. He was close. So close that another breath could lead to a kiss. “Will you be fine?” 

“Yes.” Nyra felt like she would’ve said yes to anything at that moment. This was maddening. Azriel was looking at her lips now. 

“What’s happening?” Nyra whispered.

“Whatever you’d like.” He looked her in the eye.

“You’ll be late.” The implication that he’d be late because he’d be occupied with her did not escape either of them. What they’d be doing to be occupied remained undecided.

“I’m not. . .” She trailed away and then kissed the corner of his mouth. “That’s all I’m brave enough to do.” She looked at his chest where her nails were sort of scratching on his leathers. 

Azriel leaned in, consumed by his own desire and Nyra’s, their eyes fluttering close, and then he stopped. “Not now.” 

Nyra looked up at him, eyes narrowed and irritation flashing in them. 

Azriel laughed lightly and grabbed her waist. “Do you feel this?” He pushed his hips against hers, eliciting a delicious gasp. “If I start, I will make us both finish.” 

Nyra scowled. “Since you have a grand total of zero intentions of doing anything, go.” 

“Must you be so adorable?” Azriel rubbed his nose against hers. 

“Must you be so annoying?” Nyra shot back. Azriel thrust his hips against hers, nearly going mad when she gasped against his lips. His cock was enjoying the friction far too much and ached for clothes to be discarded.

“Are you actually going to this meeting?” She did not sound like she wanted him to go. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Yes, yes, yes, yes. And even when he asked the question, he knew that she wanted him to stay. 

“There’s a war, Azriel.” Her mood dampened and so did his. It was a brutal reminder that things were too dangerous. 

Azriel stepped back and extended a hand. She gave him her left hand, her dominant hand, and he kissed the back of it. “I’ll be back.” 

The pair of them stepped out of the room to meet a very smug lot of busybodies. 

“We will talk.” Nesta gave her a secret smile.

“No, we will not.” Nyra retorted. 

“Anyway,” She looked at the smirking High Lord and his entourage. “All the very best to you nosy lot.” She looked at Nesta. “And if you sense that thing. . . right.” 

Nesta nodded impassively. Nyra saw Elain and her teasing smile and the older sister blanched because Nesta was going away for now but Elain would be here and she could be relentless when she wanted to be. “And stop smirking, Azriel.” 

“You’re not even looking at me.” The shadowsinger spoke. 

“I don’t have to.” Nyra then looked at him pointedly to see him shake his head with a close-eyed smile. 

“Brother dearest.” Rhysand flung an arm over Azriel’s shoulder and from where he stood, the Spymaster disappeared into the shadows to reach ahead at the Dawn Court. Rhys nearly fell before retaining his balance and eventually, his posture. And the company departed for Dawn.

****

What did he even expect when Eris had the ability to speak, Beron continued to exist, and Tamlin—Mother knew how much of that High Priestess’s insolence had rubbed off on him. 

Azriel knew his family could feel his irritation. A few of his shadows were with Nyra but that didn’t make up for him not being there with her. 

When Nesta felt something was wrong, the three Illyrians scouted for danger. They were in the House of Wind to check in on Elain and Nyra and found both sisters together. Both sisters were sitting on the floor with Elain holding Nyra’s cheeks and worrying.  

“Something is wrong.” Elain looked at Rhys. “I can feel it but Nyra is. . .”

“Allow me to help you.” Rhysand sat down with her and tried to enter Nyra’s mind only to be thwarted by a storm. The High Lord looked at the shadowsinger who was already sitting next to Nyra. “Can you reach her?”

Azriel focused on the bond, on that blessing that tied his rotten self to this wonderful person. Please. Nyra. Come back. 

“The Cauldron.” She whispered. Azriel watched her closely, wondering if he had been successful in reaching her. Nyra turned to him, her eyes still brightly gleaming. “It will break soon. There’s so much pain.” 

Her eyes returned to their original blue. “Az.” She gasped. He immediately gathered her in his arms. “It’s too wrong. The balance is at stake.” 

“Nyra?” Rhysand called and she turned to him. “Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”

“I. . . I think the Cauldron was calling for help.”

“Tell us everything.” Cassian had sat down on Elain’s other side. 

“They’re trying to break something.” Nyra said. “Using the Cauldron.”

“The boundary will shatter.” Elain spoke, her eyes now white. “Gods will rise. The mirror will awaken the Sovereign and the Slayer-” Elain stopped abruptly to shut her ears. “No, no, no, no.” And she kept chanting. 

“Elain, please let me in. I can help you.” Rhysand touched her shoulder. And they waited and watched as Rhysand help Elain calm down. She was now unconscious and a wave of night carried her to the bed. 

They turned to Nyra who was looking at Elain. 

“I’m staying.” Azriel spoke, his voice allowing no argument. 

“All right.” Rhysand. “Come to Dawn tomorrow.” The shadowsinger glared at him. “If things are better here.” The High Lord quickly added. Azriel did not deign to reply as he focused on Nyra. 

“All right.” Nyra looked at the General. “How is she?” 

“Physically, she’s fine but I think whatever she felt, it disturbed her.” Cassian himself seemed disturbed. Rhysand patted Nyra’s head and so did Cassian before the two headed for the balcony leaving Azriel, Nyra, and an unconscious Elain in the same room. 

“You could’ve left.” Nyra spoke as she continued to watch Elain. She waved her hand in front of her, lightning crackling at her fingertips as she cast a shield on Elain’s malnourished frame. 

She looked at Azriel and gestured with her head towards the door. They exited and found themselves in front of the door to Nyra’s room.

“I’m worried.” He watched her as she got lost in thought. He touched her shoulder and made her look at him. “Let’s have dinner.” She nodded and followed him. 

Neither of them paid much attention to the food or to anything else. They also did not mind as they entered her room, as she changed into her nightdress, and as Azriel removed his shirt. They quietly laid down, and chastely embraced each other, and fell asleep sharing an intimacy that calmed each other. 

****

“How did you even meet him?” Feyre whispered to Elain. All four Archerons, Azriel, Morrigan, and Rhysand waited as the gates to Lord Nolan’s prison-like estate opened.

“At a ball—his father’s ball.” 

“I’ve been to funerals that were merrier.” Nesta muttered, not caring if she was offending anyone.

“This house has needed a woman’s touch for years.” Elain sharply looked at Nesta before facing ahead. Behind her, both Feyre and Nesta looked at Nyra as if to ask how Nyra even approved of this match. The lightning wielder looked at them, raised her hands in surrender.

The stench of fear and disgust was overwhelming as the fae were escorted to the guardhouse. Nesta readied herself to control her temper and to let go if Graysen so much as breathed wrongly. Nyra remained observant and Feyre stood by her side. 

Do you think Nesta will kill him? Feyre asked, worrying about the consequences of harming humans. 

Probably. Nyra replied, looking around as they entered. 

And what type of person is Lord Nolan?

I might kill him. Feyre let surprise overtake her features for a single second before schooling them. She clutched Nyra’s arm in worry and in an attempt to restrain. 

Graysen entered and looked at Elain earnestly. His father certainly intimidated Elain enough for her stutter. Nesta took over, revealing the news about the wall and the Cauldron. Introductions were made by Feyre and Elain finally braved herself to make her request. Unfortunately, things escalated. 

“I have it on good authority that it was Elain Archeron who was turned fae first. And who now has a High Lord’s son as a mate.” 

Feyre felt Nyra’s calm fury as Lord Nolan said those words. She’d never been once afraid of her older sister. Her sweet older sister who never denied her a story to put her to sleep and keep away the nightmares. 

Nyra who continued to remind Feyre what it meant to have a human heart even though she knew that her older sister had lost her own many years ago. Nyra whose words carried her for all of her human life so she could finally find her own will. 

Wasn’t he the one who hurt Azriel in Hybern? Nyra was too calm as she asked. Feyre remembered that she had shown Nyra everything that happened in Hybern and now she was worried.

Yes. Feyre’s reply was followed by the roar of thunder. 

Feyre held her older sister by the arm and drew circles on the back of her hand because the rainstorm that had just begun was proof that Nyra was not as calm as her expression portrayed her to be. The High Lady held her sister long enough for Jurian’s side of the story to be heard. Azriel had vanished into the shadows to update Cassian.

We may have to get this problematic creature away from here. Nesta’s voice entered Feyre and Rhysand’s minds.

Jurian?  Rhysand asked. 

Nyra has recognised him as the one who hurt Azriel. Feyre clarified. 

She’ll fry him like a fish. Nesta did not sound worried. 

That explains the rainstorm. Rhysand sighed. Two idiots who don’t even realise their feelings for each other. He remembered the sadist Azriel could be while torturing people. He thought he’d seen the worst and the last of it when the shadowsinger tortured his half-brothers but clearly that wasn’t the case. The raven who’d touched Nyra was still in the dungeons, screaming to be killed. And for the first time, he’d seen the shadows actively torture someone. 

And- Their attention was drawn to Elain and Graysen arguing over the engagement ring. 

“Take. It. Off!” For a human surrounded by fae of such power, his audacity to shout was shocking. Things were about to get ugly. Graysen ignored his father’s warning and moved forward. 

“Take it off!” Graysen roared. Lightning struck the land right outside. Lord Nolan rushed over to the window to see the stables broken and burning despite the sudden rain. Graysen’s gaze followed his father. 

Lightning crackled inside the room, playing with the hands of one fae who had remained utterly calm. Till now. “You will mind your tone when you speak to my family.” 

Nyra tapped Feyre’s hands and the youngest let go of her sister. “You will grant sanctuary to any human who reaches here. And you will shut your mouth and do as I say lest you’d prefer that I eradicate everything in the vicinity.”

“You wouldn’t.” Graysen put on a facade of false bravery. 

“Or would I?” Nyra challenged and the human lordling couldn’t meet it as he looked at the lightning crackling at her fingertips.

And before Graysen could say anything, Lord Nolan grabbed him by the arm and dragged him across the room. “Get your faerie people out of here.” 

“Father, you cannot simply-”

“Listen to me well, boy. Whether she’s human or fae is irrelevant—you do not mess with Nyra Archeron.” Lord Nolan was supposedly whispering but the fae could hear it clearly with their hearing. 

The father roughly let go of his son and the latter turned to Elain. “I am not marrying you. Our engagement is over. I will take whatever people occupy your lands. But not you. Never you.” 

And before the insolent reptile could say anything to break Elain’s heart further, Nesta smacked him across the face. The fae departed upon Nesta’s declaration to do so and Nyra spared Jurian a withering glance. Jurian met her gaze and bowed his head. “Greetings to you, Conqueror of the Cauldron.”

****

When the war began, Nyra resolved to look after Elain who was having more nightmares. It was quiet between them and Elain’s visions were showing her all sorts of things. Some were calming, some were outright terrifying. And Nyra quietly absorbed Elain’s exhaustion. 

The end of the first battle came with a plan to glamour soldiers. Nyra simply tapped Feyre’s forehead and granted her access to her power. “Don’t overdo it. It might harm you.” 

And they watched the end of it as Cassian was cornered and he continued to fight valiantly. As Azriel in a cloud of shadows and blue lights fought to reach his brothers. As Nyra worried for the two of them, a flash of her power found its way to the shadowsinger. The sisters watched as Azriel slammed his fist on the ground, releasing a blast of lightning in the surrounding area. 

****

Nyra felt the wrongness of this dream. Thunder collapsed as she woke up. She looked around and found Nesta on her bed but Elain?

She threw away her blankets and took her robe. Elain was not on her bed. Or anywhere in sight. Nyra exited the tent and looked around. Everything seemed fine. 

Her eyes glowed and she found the trail of Elain’s golden magic. Without another thought, Nyra followed it. 

Nyra quietened. Mud and twigs and dirt and leaves clung to the hem of her nightdress and robe by the time she reached the enemy’s camp where Elain’s trail led her to. 

Nyra observed the rotations of the guards patrolling, timed them, waited for the opportunity, and snuck in. She followed the trail cautiously and reached a tent with a table, Elain, and the ghastly Cauldron. Wispy smokes emanated from it, taunting her. 

Once she’d helped Elain stand up straight, the younger sister began ranting about someone else. “There’s a child. A human.” Elain spoke between her sobs, eyes white. “She’s here. . . and she’s so young. We can’t leave her here.” 

Nyra hesitated. It was one thing that Elain was kidnapped. She didn’t even know how they were going to return. She exhaled, giving up on trying to convince Elain to worry about herself before others. 

“Where’s she?” Elain led her to an altar. One look and Nyra realised that Elain had not thought of how this girl was to be saved. 

The girl was human and tied to a wooden pole on the altar. Those surrounding the altar were playing cards and discussing how they would ‘take’ the girl. 

Rage swirled within her and the first clap of lightning struck the nearest group. Nyra stood tall, lightning crackling all over her body. The next group of people were examining the remains of those who had been charred and she moved in a flash of lightning. 

A flash of light was all that any of them saw before they dropped dead, vital organs severed from their bodies. After the massacre, the girl’s cries stopped. Nyra looked at her and stepped on the altar. Elain followed and began helping her. “We’ll get you out of here.” 

Nyra looked up at the sky and closed her eyes, consumed by the power she now wielded freely. Rain poured gently over the land. Lightning fractured the sky and thunder echoed around the world. 

A tingle passed through them and the next thing they knew, they were in the camp with the Inner Circle at a distance, with Rhysand and Azriel facing each other, the former’s authority weak against the latter’s unfiltered wrath. 

The sudden thrum of power in the air caught their attention and they turned and saw the three females. 

“Feyre!” Elain cried. The human girl had fainted in her arms. Feyre looked at Elain and Nyra, horrified at the sight. 

The lightning wielder looked at her blood-coated hands. With her hands, she’d taken lives. She’d massacred them. Her rage was a ferocious beast—waiting for the opportune moment to strike. And it had. She’d been possessed by something so vicious and it was an entirely familiar feeling. 

“Nyra.” Nesta called her but Nyra couldn’t look her in the eye. She was unworthy. But then she felt hands on her own. The blood was now on Nesta’s hands. 

Nyra’s eyes were hot and wet with tears and as much as she clenched her jaw and bit her lip, she wanted to scream. She had killed, killed, and it wasn’t the first time but some part of her was lost. And something vile had taken its place. 

Lightning was a frightening element but it was hers—the element that now bowed to her. The element and everything beyond.

Death embraced her twin, and the skies roared throughout the night, renouncing any sense of tranquillity. And Nyra mourned for herself in Nesta’s arms.

****

The final battle in the mortal lands felt a little personal. Maybe because she was once human. 

A few of Azriel’s shadows were with her, helping her with mundane tasks, bringing Elain and the Truth Teller upon her request for a distraction. 

When Elain stabbed the king’s neck, the twins moved. A hand wrapped in lightning ripped away the king’s arm, freeing their father, and the shadows whisked him away. 

The king’s corpse fell and three Archerons towered over it. 

The inky black surface of the Cauldron had started cracking, not letting Feyre move away and with Amren inside. A bird of light and fire emerged, draining more of the Cauldron’s power. 

Nyra reached the Cauldron in a flash of lightning and placed a hand on it. Her eyes glowed blue. Nesta and Elain had joined her, their eyes now silver and white. Feyre could now let go of the Cauldron and she watched her sisters let their power flow to fix it. 

But what Feyre thought was not what was happening. The Cauldron cracked further and a white light emanated from the cracks seeming as if lightning adorned the artefact. And then, it broke. 

Feyre was soon joined by her mate, the other High Lords, and everyone else when the battle was finally over. 

Her sisters pushed in a wave of power to contain the essence. The cracked pieces of the Cauldron rose into the air and above them. It came together, melted like iron in fire, and took shape. 

A brand new Cauldron was formed with legs and carvings. 

Three hands gathered the essence from the old Cauldron and poured it inside the new one.

And when the power subsided and the Cauldron was settled, the Sovereign of the Skies, the Slayer of the King, and the Seer of the Stars remained. 

****

TAGLIST:

@waytoomanyteenagefeels @impossibelle @esposadomd @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @judig92 @bunnyredgirl @sh4nn @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kattzillaa @ronnieglennn @wallacewillow0773638 @forgiveliv @justdreamstars @donttellthecats @cat-or-kitten @jojodojo02 @wandas-dream @evylynny @weasleyreidstyles @stqrgirlies-blog @why4anne @acourtofdreamsandshadows @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe @macimads @footyandformula @noelli-smv @mqlfoyelf @thehighlordishere @slytherintaco @spideytingley @deeshag @footyandformula @nebarious @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @prettylittlewrites @lilah-asteria @5onedirection5 @hanitastic @sevikas-whore @krowiathemythologynerd @myladysapphire @freyagallileaevans @azrielrot @rcarbo1 @i-am-infinite @latinxbipride @moni-cah @fantanbietsson @julsgrace @angel-graces-world-of-chaos

[utterlyotterlyx]

Another Love

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Based on this ask

Summary - Azriel knows you'd never leave his side, no matter what, but when his new situationship with Elain takes over his every living moment and he takes advantage of your feelings, you make the only decision you can to save yourself only for him to hurt you in a way you never thought he could.

Warnings - ANGST, mega fluff, swearing, neglect, abuse of feelings, mentions of death, slight grovelling (I’m more of an epic admissions girlie you all know this), lots of sadness.

Word Count - 4.9k oops

The clock ticked away, idly counting the seconds by, seconds that turned to minutes, and minutes that turned to hours, hours that Azriel had seemingly forgotten about the promise he had made to take you to the theatre.

The cobalt blue bow in your hair, that you had chosen to perfectly match him, swayed sadly as you moved about your room with a heavy heart, hanging up the dress you had bought especially for the occasion and changing into something more comfortable to wallow in self-pity.

It had become normal, his lateness, his nightly visits became later and shorter until they had stopped all together, well, that is until he needed something from you, and you would give him whatever he asked for, no matter how much it hurt you.

You had been a part of the Inner Circle for over 500 years, you were one of the originals, growing up in the camps with Rhys, Cassian and Azriel, Rhys' mother protected you fiercely, and you were very close to Selene, your chosen sister. You were the one they turned to for everything, you were wise and brutal, an incredible warrior and tactician, but also soft and kind; you were the blue break in a sky of storm clouds, you were the spring breeze that cut through the edge of winter, you were everything.

A thing Azriel knew all too well.

It didn't surprise you when Azriel had become fond of Elain, like it didn't surprise you when he had pined after Mor for all those years, completely looking over you in the process. Elain was a soft and fragile thing, she was quiet and graceful, and Azriel was completely besotted by her. A fact that made your heart curse your stupidity, cursing the hope you had willed into it that maybe he would finally see you.

It was no secret that you and Azriel were the closest out of all of the members of your growing family, you had shared 500 years of respect and adoration for one another.

Azriel was by your side when Selene had so brutally lost her life, he had held your hand through the depression and brought you back to life. Azriel knew every single thing that you loved and hated, he knew what every facial expression meant, he knew every tick of your body language which silently conveyed how you were feeling. Azriel knew you better than anyone, even better than he knew himself. The map of you laid etched bare on the back of his hand, a map he used to scour daily, but now barely even glanced at.

It wasn't so one sided.

You knew Azriel better than anything, and you knew a lot. 500 years of life pointed to a rich knowledge. You were the one who cleaned him up after a mission, you're the one who mended his broken bones and washed his turmoil away. You were the one who helped him overcome his insecurities with his hands. You were the one his shadows shot to at family dinners. You were the one who sang him to sleep when his demons had become to much. There was nothing you wouldn't do for Azriel, even if it meant standing on the side-lines until he wanted you.

Moonlight streaked along the floor of your bedroom, cascading across the pale blue of your comforter and drifting along the edges of your antique furniture. The dress you had wanted to wear to the theatre hung off the frame of your mirror, rippling softly in the gentle breeze that entered through the slightly ajar window.

It was silly to feel upset, you knew Azriel didn't owe you any of his time, but you had really thought he would pull through, especially after you had told him how much you missed spending time with him.

Interrupting your damaging thoughts, your door opened to reveal Azriel, who looked annoyed and not at all in knowing of his lateness or the promise that now lay in tatters in your chest. From the look on his face, you knew instantly that Elain was the one who plagued his mind, she was the cause of it every time he had come to see you recently.

Huffing, Azriel trudged to your cream living area, propping his feet up on the antique table you had asked him to be careful with far too many times and sinking into the cushions. He hadn't spared you a glance as he entered, he didn't note his colour in the form of a bow in your perfectly styled hair, he didn't see the sadness in your eyes laced with that naïve hope that he may have turned up to apologise for being late. He didn't see you.

"What happened this time?" You inquired, wrapping yourself tighter into your robe and sliding into the seat beside him, tucking your legs underneath you and propping your head in your palm as you stared at him.

Azriel was beautiful, scars and demons and all, the height of his cheekbones, those hazel oceans of a thousand emotions, the golden skin and arched brows, the curve of his muscles under his second skin, everything about him was intoxicating.

"Lucien," Azriel through his head back and closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose, "I was so close to kissing her, so close, Y/N. And then Lucien walked in, he ruined it."

The revelation had stung, he'd never admitted to you to being close to kissing Elain before, it was always a myriad of stolen glances and ghosting touches, of hushed words laced with a million differing meanings. But never a kiss.

Azriel paid no mind to the hurt that radiated from you, he knew it was there, he always knew it was there but he couldn't focus on it.

Only an idiot could be blind to the clear feelings you had toward Azriel, the way you looked at him was not the way a friend looked at another friend, no matter how close they were. Azriel knew that he could never truly push you away, no matter how much you were hurting you'd never leave, he knew that, he knew you'd always be there for him to fall into.

It was so awfully wrong, but he lapped in serenity you gave him, in that unwavering loyalty, and he had no intention to stop drinking from your fountain of love.

"Lucien is her mate, Az. He's bound to not like whatever it is that's going on between you," your voice was gentle and full of understanding, your hand rested on his shoulder and he felt any anger disappear almost immediately. That's what your touch alone could do to him, bring him immeasurable peace.

"I know," he sighed, opening his eyes and turning his head to the side to look at you, a small smile tugged at his lips when he noticed how pretty you looked, with your hair parted just how he liked it, and with a bow tied neatly at the back, "I still think that the cauldron was wrong," your face faltered when he immediately continued on his weekly rant, "It gets it wrong sometimes, we know that. It's wrong, it has to be."

All you wanted was for Azriel to be happy, he deserved it more than anyone you knew. Rhys had found Feyre, who you adored tremendously. Cassian had found Nesta, who had become a very good friend of yours. So, you couldn't blame Azriel for believing that Elain was fated to be his, three brothers for three sisters. Even you had to admit that it made sense, The Mother moved in mysterious ways.

You plastered a smile on your face, you vision catching the satin of your new dress moving softly against the breeze, "Maybe it is," Azriel hummed at your words before continuing on, listing everything he adored about Elain.

"I wish sometimes that she was you, you know? That her and I could be like this, with no one watching over us, to be able to spend time alone and do whatever we wanted to do and talk about anything," it was like he didn't realise what he exactly he was wishing for.

Azriel wanted you to be Elain, so that he could have the life he dreamed of. Elain. Not you. Elain.

You weren't good enough for him.

"I hope you get to that point one day, Az," your voice was strained from holding in your strangled sobs, "I'm tired, can we talk about this more tomorrow?"

"Sure," Azriel smiled at you, rising from his seat and heading to the door, standing in the doorway and looking back at your form still glued to your spot, "I like your bow, Y/N. Blue suits you, always has," and then he closed the door behind him, you waited a few moments before letting your sobs flow through your lips and ripping that damned bow from your hair.

Azriel would never see you the way you begged to be seen, and you couldn't sit around and be the one he fell back to when life wasn't going his way.

More days had passed, more days of Azriel complaining to you, more days of Azriel wishing that Elain and you had switched paths so that he could finally get what he was owed.

Azriel didn't care for your tear stained skin, he didn't care for your weary eyes whenever you spoke of Elain to you.

It was awful that he knew exactly what he was doing, he was abusing your relationship with him, he knew you'd never walk away from him, he knew you'd never be able to put your foot down and tell him to cut it out.

The idea of a mate had him completely obsessed, obsessed to the point that he became blind to what was right in front of him, what had always been in front of him. That blind faith in your loyalty crumbled in his fingers once Rhys had told him that you had decided to purchase your own home in the city, a home away from them all.

"What?" Azriel had asked from his place at the dinner table, bewildered by the news given to them once he had asked where you were.

Nesta knew the exact reason why you had decided you separate yourself from them, you couldn't handle the rejection anymore, and you couldn't begin to heal from the decades worth of heartbreak under the same roof as Azriel and Elain. Nesta knew you held no ill feeling toward her youngest sister, you were too kind for that, you knew it wasn't her fault that Azriel came to you each time something went wrong in their situationship, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

"She left, Az," Mor had cried when Rhys had pulled her to one side that afternoon to tell her that you had decided to move into the home that Rhys had bought you after you had made it clear that you needed your own space, and Rhys had spent an hour trying to convince his cousin that your decision was not impacted by anything any of them did.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Azriel asked his brother who frowned, Feyre grabbed Rhys' hand and squeezed it in hers, "She can't just leave, Rhys."

"She has every right to after everything she's done for all of us, she deserves some peace," Rhys spoke calmly, snapping his fingers and allowing the sentient home to rid the plates and serving dishes from the table.

Azriel was speechless, he felt a frantic pull in his body, one that was poisoned with desperation at the thought of you being anywhere else than under the roof of the River House, the home you had spent a century redecorating and perfecting, paying special attention to each room to make it feel as homely as possible.

He didn't believe it as his chair groaned against the floor and he took off up the stairs toward your room, pushing his way through the doors to find it completely empty. No pictures hanging on the walls, no lines of hooks containing an array of ribbons in different hues, no dresses draped over your mirror, no antique furniture. It was all gone, and the scent of you that was usually so strong that it drowned him was a whisper in the atmosphere.

You had left.

Anger bubbled within him, how could you leave without saying anything? How could you move out of your shared home without a single word? How could you leave him after 500 years at his side?

Azriel flung open the doors to your balcony, a balcony plush with fresh flowers and greenery, he flexed his wings and hurtled himself into the starlit sky, allowing his shadows to peel from his body and search every inch of Velaris until they returned to him reeking of your scent and pulled him down to a small townhouse along the bank of the Sidra.

It was a charming home, pale brickwork, large bay windows, golden light emitting from them, and a large garden full of rich wildlife and botanicals. Your scent flowed from the closed oak door, lavender and honey with a hint of firewood and he found himself following that smell up the winding path until he was knocking on your door.

Golden light flowed from the home as you opened the door. You were dressed in denim overalls that were spatted with cream paint, you hair was loosely bound on the top of your head, and your face was full of uneasy surprise as you looked at him, "Az, what are you doing here?"

Azriel pushed past you and stood in the centre of your hallway, listening to your deep exhale as you closed the door. The space was pretty, it was very you, the walls were half painted cream from their original sage colour that you were obviously painting over, the coving was white and saturated with intricate little sketches of leaves, the carpet was a rich brown and had clearly been laid that day from how interrupted it looked, the only pattern on it being the imprints of your bare feet. Azriel didn't stop his shadows as they extended from him and scoured each part of your new home, nodding with approval and curling around your fingers in understanding adoration.

White sheets were draped over your perfectly placed furniture, to protect it from the paint no doubt, and the same tarp lay at the foot of the walls to protect the carpet. Music drifted softly about the room, and boxes upon boxes of books lay open, with some of them idly placed on shelves to get them out of the way to be sorted properly at a later date.

"It's true? You've really left," he noted the intricately presented kitchen, white cabinets and exposed wooden beams, just like you always wanted.

You rounded him, walking into your new living space, bending down to pick up one of your plant pots before placing it on the window ledge, your back faced him but he could see the pain in your features through the reflection in the window, "Yes, I live here now."

"No. No. You're coming home with me, this is ridiculous," his heart was beating a mile a minute, he couldn't think straight, all that was consuming him was the reality that his fear had come to fruition, that the one person he believed would never leave him had actually walked away.

"I'm not coming back, Azriel," you told him softly, and he saw your shoulders rise and fall with each deep inhale of breath you forced your lungs to take.

Then you turned to him, in the middle of the home that you were trying to make yours, a home away from him, "I thought you'd never leave me. You can't leave me. You're my best friend, I need you."

"No, you don't. You need someone to fall back onto when life isn't going your way, that's all I am to you now," you felt your heart breaking, you felt it shattering in your chest, "I can't be the one you turn to when something becomes between you and Elain. I can't be the one you wish was her. I can't do it anymore, Az. You've taken advantage of me for too long. You promise me the world and show up empty handed. You don't realise I even exist until you need someone to complain to and I just can't do it anymore."

Azriel knew every word you were saying was the truth, he knew he had been using you, but he never expected you to actually walk away from him, you were supposed to love him too much to leave.

Your heart was in the palm of his hands and he knew it, he knew you'd spent hundreds of years falling deeper in love with him each passing day whilst he pined for someone else. The fact of your departure made a bitter monster appear in his mind, he allowed it to tug on the venom in his heart, he allowed it to control him, "Aren't you supposed to be in love with me?"

Azriel watched your eyes widen and a breathless gasp fall from your lips, "You know?"

The Shadowsinger scoffed, "Of course I know. Only a fool wouldn't be able to see it," he saw your face contort into painful sorrow but did nothing to stop himself from saying, "I've known for years. I've known that you'd never leave, you've always been the one that I come to for anything I need and you never complain or tell me to leave. You made it easy to take advantage of you."

A tear slid down your cheek but Azriel made no move to wipe it away, "I want you to leave."

"I'm not leaving without you."

Fire roared in your eyes, "You have no right to command me after what you've knowingly done. I honestly thought that you didn't know, that it was innocent and that you just needed my advice. Now I know that you've willingly abused my kindness, Azriel, you can rot in hell," the tears didn't stop flowing from your eyes, your voice was strained and sore, your chest was so tight that you thought it may stop beating all together, "Get. Out!"

Azriel had left you then, he had left your door wide open and soared into the skies, leaving you in the home that was now tainted by his deceit.

It had been months since Azriel had seen you, Nesta and Feyre had practically forbid him from going anywhere near your home, that being from the land or sky. But that didn't stop him from allowing his shadows to slither under your front door or linger in the streets, he was desperate to know how you were.

Azriel hated himself for what he had said to you, he hated himself for taking advantage of you. In some way he tried to justify it, you were too good for him, he didn't want to ruin you, but it was clear that he already had.

Your absence had left a void that no one could fill, not even Elain despite her efforts, even the thought of her made his stomach drop and sickness swirl to the point where he couldn't bring himself to be around her. All Elain did was remind him of how he failed you.

Azriel had tried writing to you since you wouldn't see him, he gave the letters to Feyre and Nesta, the latter of which still saw your daily, and grew colder toward him with each passing moment. Even Cassian did nothing to hide his disappointment in him, and Rhys had some very telling words to express once Feyre had told him the truth of what had happened in your home that night.

Nothing was working, things with Elain were strained and difficult, the problems between them so raw and everyone's opinions so disapproving that it created a distance between them that was unmanageable.

Then it dawned on him that nothing was working with Elain because it wasn't meant to. The person who was meant to be his had been under his nose for 500 years, and now wanted nothing to do with him.

Cassian had pulled Azriel from his thoughts by stepping through the threshold of his room, "Are you coming to training?"

"Tell me how to fix it," Azriel lifted his head from his hands and turned his head toward Cassian who sighed in reply, moving to the bed to sit beside Azriel, "I need to know how to fix it."

"Only you can figure that out, Az," Cassian spoke to him, throwing his arm over Azriel's shoulder before continuing, "Y/N loves you Az, she has for 500 years. A few months apart won't change that. You're really fucking stupid for this though, she's the only one of us who knew the exact right thing to do and say every time. Y/N deserves more than the basic requirements of respect, she deserves the world in the palm of her hand and a person who loves her more than he loves himself. Don't bother her unless you can do that."

It was the anniversary of Selene's death, and the day hadn't gotten any easier for you to deal with.

Rhys and you had made a habit of doing something together each year, though, Azriel was the one to accompany you when Rhys had gone Under the Mountain. The location was sacred to you, you and Rhys would bundle yourselves up in blankets and watch the sun set over the Sidra, you'd rehash old memories and stories, ones that you both knew the script to by heart, but that never got old.

Your High Lord had tried to convince you to come home, but didn't push you when you had told him no. Your life had began to feel rather empty without the family antics that consumed your day-to-day life.

"I miss her," you had told him sadly, your head rested on his shoulder as the sun tipped her toes into the water in the distance, the sky grew darker each passing minute.

Rhys hummed, holding you closer to his side, "So do I," he replied with equal sadness, you had all grown up together, you basically were his sister by blood, and when you both had lost her, it only made him clutch to you more, "She'd nail Az's balls to the wall for sure."

A laugh passed through your lips before it died in your throat, you had done your best to not think about Azriel despite him owning your soul, you had done your best to heal from what he had done, but even then, you missed him more than anything, "How is he?"

It was the first time you had asked about him since before you had moved to your new home which was now fully decorated and yours, thanks to Rhys, Feyre and Nesta who made it their priority to help you settle, "He's-" Rhys couldn't lie to you, he was never able to even when you were younger, "-Not great. He misses you, he hates himself for what he said to you that night."

"I'd hate myself too," you had hummed, shifting to stand on the stone ledge where you and Rhys had sat, wanting a better view of the sun as it began to disappear against the horizon.

A familiar cold kiss pecked at your ankles and you looked down to see those shadows you had missed so dearly meandering around where you stood. Cedar entered your lungs and you shivered in painful delight as his warmth curled around your back.

"Y/N," his voice was deep and rough, it was pleading, you looked to your side and found that Rhys had vanished. That damn meddler. "Please look at me."

Not able to say no to that voice, you indulged the Shadowsinger and turned on the balls of your feet to peer upward at him. Azriel had his wings neatly tucked behind his back, his hands dangled at his sides, and his head was hung low. He looked terrible.

"Why are you here?"

Azriel clenched his jaw, he didn't expect you to be happy to see him, but it didn't stop the self hatred from growing in every single cell of his body, "I know how hard today is for you, I just wanted to see if you were alright."

"Well I'm fine, so you can go now," you made a move to walk away, to take the path down the edge of the Sidra to your home which had become your haven away from reality.

Though, you didn't get very far, perhaps two steps before Azriel's fingers curled around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks and pulling you back to him, "Y/N, I don't even know how to apologise in the way that you deserve. I don't know how to say sorry and make you feel like I see and hear you."

"What I did was disgusting, I hate myself for it. I never should have taken advantage of you like that, you've done everything to help me the entire time that I've known you and I ruined everything for someone I don't even want. I've always wanted a mate, you know that, and I got so carried away with wanting it that I completely ignored the only person who's ever truly loved me for me despite all of the horrid things I have done. Elain isn't you, Y/N. No one compares to you. No one makes me feel safe like you do, no one makes me feel alive like you do, and no one can make me hope for death by their void like you do."

"I am yours, Y/N. I always have been. I couldn't be the reason you ever got hurt, I couldn't be the one to risk extinguishing that glorious fire in your soul. You are the only one I cannot bear to lose, the thought of losing you terrifies me, it always has, and instead of protecting you, I took advantage of you and pushed you away because I would rather hurt someone else with everything that I am than hurt you with just a a part of it."

"I'm so stupid for ignoring you, I'm a prick for using you as my security blanket rather than let you in, you know me better than I know myself, you love me more than I could ever imagine, and it terrified me because I couldn't let myself love you. I couldn't let myself taint you."

Azriel lifted his hands, cupping your face in his palms and you could see every inch of despair within him, that conflicted flame dancing within his soul, "I'm not asking you to forgive me, I don't think I will ever be able to forgive myself after what I've done to you. I'm not asking for anything from you. I just need you to know that no matter how severe your storm, I promise I won't leave your side, I'll stay with you through the howling winds that whip my cheeks raw and red. I will stay and hold you when the night leaves you shivering and give you space when when your searing heat pushes you into a fiery rage. I will stay and love you in whatever way you crave, whether that be from next to you or from wherever you cast me to."

"Azriel-" tears flowed freely from his eyes and you knew he meant every word he was saying. Every single word was being plucked from the core of his essence.

"I know that you're scared, and that you don't trust me. I'm scared too. But you're the only one I can face love with because I only want to feel it with you. At the end of the day I want it to be you and me, I want your early mornings and late nights, I want you on your good days and bad. I will never stop wanting you. I will never stop needing you filling my lungs like oxygen and giving me life."

Azriel dropped his forehead onto yours, and you felt your own cheeks dampening from your own tears at his words, "I love you, Y/N. I will always love you, even if you don't want me to, even if you decide to walk away from me I will not stop loving you. I am so thankful for you, and I know I haven't shown that, but if you give me one more chance, I will show you exactly the man you have made me into. I will give you the world you have always dreamed of. My soul is yours until you stop loving me. Please. Please."

"I can't stop loving you, Az. I've tried but I can't and I don't want to," his thumbs wiped your tears away and you found yourself reaching to rest your fingers on the marred flesh around his wrists, "One more chance. Don't fuck it up."

Azriel pressed his lips to your forehead, relishing in your warmth as you bundled into his chest, "You're mine."

"Take me home, Az."

"Yours or mine?"

You grinned against his chest, "How about ours?"

Authors Note

I really hope this does the ask justice x

Alternate ending incoming 👀👀

[crazy-ache]

WIP Snippet - Elucien Body Swap

Thank you @olenvasynyt for making this graphic for me! ₊₊₊₊ Lucien’s mechanical eye whirred more frantically and erratically at the emerald jeweled necklace than he could ever recall in his long, immortal lifespan. It was thrumming and covered in a spiderweb of spells, though through his russet eye, he could see it sit plainly as any other piece of jewelry would in Elain’s small hand. 

“Who could throw such a thing away?” 

He wasn’t used to her asking questions of him. He wasn’t used to the pleasantry of conversations with his mate. Yet it wasn’t nerves churning in his stomach. 

“Lady, you really shouldn’t touch that,” Lucien cleared his throat, nervously stepping toward her. “I have a bad feeling about—“

He watched as Elain looked into the hallway mirror and held the strange necklace up in the air as if to place it upon her perfect neck. 

“No!” He couldn’t restrain himself. It reeked of curses and ancient spells. To hell with manners and their long-standing history of stilted, distant propriety.

Instinct had him lurch forward, reaching for her shoulder to prevent her from putting it on. 

When his hand found her skin, the last thing he saw was her reflection in the mirror—wide, surprised brown eyes staring right at him and her gaping mouth parted as if to shout his name. 

He never did hear her shout it. 

The buzz of unfamiliar, tingling magic encapsulated them both, starting from the necklace itself, then traveled up her delicate arm to the place his fingertips joined her shoulder. A gold dusting spread all along their bodies. As it happened, it seemed to grip them both in place from where they stood and breathed—not a single hair on their heads even moved. A single heartbeat later and the magic released them. 

Lucien went tumbling back, careening into a coatrack. From the loud crash he heard, the force must have also sent Elain falling backward. The necklace clattered on the spot where they had just stood, its magic no longer emanating, leaving it seemingly ordinary and lifeless. 

“What just happened?” 

Lucien heard his shaky voice ask. 

Only he had not spoken. He had not even opened his mouth. 

Pushing himself up on his elbows, he snapped his head up. Wide, mismatched orbs met his gaze from across the floor. His eyes met him. That was his molten red hair spilling on the floor as his body pushed itself up to a sitting position. Panic surged through him, extinguishing his inner fire like a bucket of ice cold water. Lucien nearly broke his neck to look down at himself because what the actual fuck—

Those were definitely Elain’s breasts where his chest was supposed to be located. He wasn’t proud to admit he did in fact know what they looked like even if they barely made eye contact in the past few years. Her long locks of curled hair came into his view and her thin hands trembled as he tried to breathe. 

He clumsily jumped to his feet, not used to the lightness of her petite frame. Elain followed and they both peered into the hanging mirror at the same time. His mate’s face was staring back at him. He touched her smooth face with the hesitant pad of his fingertips. Next to him, Elain did the same, her now large, broad hands slapping his cheeks, like this was just a bad dream and she simply needed to wake up.

He was inside Elain’s body. 

And not in a good way. 

Which meant Elain was inside him—

He cringed as the loudest, most blood-curdling scream pierced the hallway. Lucien had never heard himself sound so terrified before, and he certainly hadn’t known his voice could reach such a high octave in range. Which meant Elain had figured it out as well.

Elain held his hair in her hands as if it were the most offensive creature to ever touch her. His own heart was thundering in his chest. Well, technically it was Elain’s chest. It felt as if he couldn’t find the air because these lungs did not belong to him. The unsettling realization made the room spin. 

Oh, Cauldron boil him.

They had switched bodies. 

[sapphicmsmarvel]

acotar characters and getting mad over silly, silly things

these are the things the characters get mad over, except they are super silly. 

This is a short one!

i.e. the only times they ever get mad at you, but it’s not toxic ❤️

Azriel

Just let this man zip your dresses up. He gets you want to be “independent” but just, let him zip the damn dresses. 

He also loves lacing up your corsets. 

He’ll press a kiss between your shoulder blades. Kiss the spot between your neck and shoulder. 

He loves the intimacy within the action, loves knowing that you are for him. 

Wrapping you up as a gift is just a plus. 

Cassian 

He gets mad when you open a door for yourself. He will race you to the door. Even shove you out of the way. 

it’s the gentlemen-like thing to do. 

He loves seeing your ass when you walk past him. 

He doesn’t want his babydoll lifting a finger. 

Rhysand 

if you don't let this man pull out your chair at a dinner table or function…. 

What a pouty bitch. 

It’s a simple claim of “they’re mine.” But also he just simply loves doing it. He loves to help you whenever he can, even if it’s something small like pulling out your chair. 

Plus, when he does it, he usually kisses your head or brushes his fingertips across your shoulders, making you shiver. 

Feyre 

Don’t you ever do your nails yourself. 

She loves working on a smaller canvas and painting your nails intricate designs is like therapy to her. She loves doing cheesy things like putting your initials together in a heart. 

Morrigan 

Let her do your makeup. It brings her so much joy to just stare at your face when you aren’t looking. It’s the one time she doesn’t feel like a creep doing it even though you’re her wife. 

When you close your eyes as she dusts some sparkly shadow across your lid, it making your skin tone pop.

And if you’re dark skinned? with metallic colors? That would kill her. 

Amren 

Putting your jewelry on for you. She’s a simple woman, just let her do your jewelry. You have hundreds nearing thousands of pieces she has given you. 

She knows what compliments your skin, or what looks good with an outfit. As well as what gems you like the most and what metals irritate your skin. 

When she puts your necklace around you, she’ll kiss the spot on your neck where the clasp is.  

Nesta 

She loves closing the clasp on your heels and tying your shoes. 

It’s the only time anyone will see her bow to someone else.  (besides the bedroom but they don’t see that). 

If you do it yourself, she literally makes you undo them, or she undos them, then she redoes it. She’ll be damned if you buckle your own shoes. While she’s down there, she’ll press a kiss to your thigh, calf, inner knee, ankle. Whatever she feels like.

Elain 

She loves doing your hair. Even brushing it after a bath, she doesn’t want you doing it. She wants to do it. 

She loves weaving flowers through it, braiding, any type of style. It’s therapy for her, to just sit there and play with her girl's hair. 

Lucien 

He doesn’t like you doing ‘boy jobs’, as in the dishes or some ridiculous shit like that. 

It’s not that he thinks you’re incapable it’s just, you’re his spouse you deserve better than taking out the trash! 

The definition of “my hands look like this, so theirs look like this” but again, not in a toxic way. Just a “my baby is my baby and i’ll be damned if they lift a finger.”

Eris 

He gets mad when you refuse to let him walk on the more dangerous side of a sidewalk or sleep in the spot closest to the door so he can protect you better if need be. 

He’s a natural protector and you are the love of his life. He’s not going to put you in danger even though you’ve told him nobody is waiting outside the bedroom door to kill you. 

But, you can never be too safe. 

Tarquin

Washing your hair, it’s really therapeutic for him to wash your hair. Even if you get embarrassed because if you have a flaky scalp it embarrasses you. But he loves just taking care of you. 

Nothing with him is embarrassing. Every hair wash day he’s there with your products as well as adding his own new thing, such as a mask or new leave in product.

[zenkindoflove]

Let’s support our fanfic writers!!

What are your favorite Gwynriel/Elucien fics / fanfic writers? Tag them and show some love!🩵🌊🧡🌷

Okay, I'm going to do some fics I'm either actively reading or have read in the last few months. All Elucien fics 🧡🌷.

Multichapter

ACOWAR (Elucien's) Version by @crazy-ache (also her fic Animal Instincts that she just finished)

Hand of Fate by @clarafae

All I Have Is Your Fire by @clockwork-ashes

A Heart of Gold by @jules-writes-stories

The Scenic Route by @bonecarversbestie

One-shots/Short Fics

This Time I'm Ready by @lucienarcheron

Gold of the Richest Kings by @olenvasynyt

An Intolerable Quest for Solitude by @fortheloveofbanksy

The Secret of Us by @allwaswellllll

begone gophers by @avabrynne

Love Ain't Some Magical Thing by @sapphiresandgold

unrequited (terrifying!) and full moon, white honey by @shardminds

Lay Me Down In The Light by @acourtoflucien (still waiting with bated breath for this one to update *wink wink*)

It's Just a Burning Memory by @the-darkestminds

Just a Tug by @yaralulu

Vines On a Tree by @teddyhoneybear

Realizations, Finally by @trappedoutside124

[darkest-fantasy]

I can just imagine Elain and Lucien stuck at an Inn. Lucien is hurt, it is raining, they’re both frustrated. Then it all comes out all at once, all the feelings bottled up after all these years.

“I burn for you. I burn for someone who does not feel the same!”

“You burn for me?” Elain asks, one hand placed over her throat.

“Why do you think I went to find Vassa? With no army, no resources? Completely blind into dangerous territory?” He says in a whisper.

Elain takes a step back, her back hitting the wall, shaking her head in disbelief. “I-”

Lucien lowers his head but takes a step forward, closing in on them. He places a hand on the wall behind them. Elain can feel his heat elapse along his skin.

“I’ve burned for you even before I knew you were my mate. I burned for you when I broke out of those restraints. I’ve burned for you the second I laid my eyes on you.”

There was one single pause, and then Elain felt the tug, his heart, his heat.

“I burn for you.” Elain could not believe she said it, that it finally all came out.