#oh we’re sending the Illyrian females to train

[kataraavatara]

“obviously people in the modern day can recognize what nesta did as verbal abuse even if they didn’t have the words for it in univers-” well if we’re using modern day terms Rhysand and Feyre are segregationists who allow child soldiers and are enacting both collective and multigenerational punishment on an entire city of people. so why don’t you ruminate on that for a little bit.

[artists-ally]

{Dirty Little Curse} Azriel x Reader x Xaden

Here is a continuation of She Me Where It Hurts!!! No this isn't a series, but rather a collection of stand alone fics about the same characters if that makes sense. You don't need to read the other parts to enjoy. There's no plot. Just smut hehehehe. Happy Wednesday!!

Word Count: 5,498

Warnings: ACOTAR x Fourth Wing, Smut (dom!Az and Xaden, sub!reader), use of the nickname "pet", DP, spanking, praise kink, breath play, shadow play, unprotected sex, degrading, choking, exhibitionism, just a touch of fluff.

Tagging: @librafairy @needylilgal022 @harrystylesfan2686 @justdreamstars @cyrygher @agent-anna @thelov3lybookworm @blessthepizzaman @highladyofterrasen7

Summary: Xaden has been A little more stressed than normal and due to complications at Basgiath, he isn't able to make it to Velaris for his normal training schedule. Az takes it upon himself to bring him an early Solstice gift.

~~~~~

I made my way down the cobblestone street, adjusting my bag on my shoulder as I made my way back home. The market had been full of people preparing for Solstice; buying presents and decorations for their homes or shops. 

With two bags in my hand, I had plans to spruce up my front door. The holly and various berries would make for a great-

“AHHHHH!” The ground shrunk beneath me, disappearing as I’m lifted into the air. “Oh my fucking- what the fuck.”

A deep laugh rumbled through me, and I looked up and behind my shoulder. “Good morning.”

“Azriel,” I shrieked. “What the- what the fuck are you doing?”

“We’re going on a trip.” He adjusted his grip under my arms and hauled me up. I wrapped my legs around his torso and locked my arms around his neck. “I won’t drop you.”

“What do you mean we’re going on a trip?” I looked out at the Illyrian mountains, watching them fade away. 

“We’re going to Basgiath. To visit Xaden.”

My chest tightened, my blood running rampant. “We are?”

“He couldn’t make it down for his lesson. Happy Solstice,” Azriel smiled, kissing my cheek. 

I beamed, “It is a wonderful Solstice gift. Thank you. How far is it from here?”

“Oh, we’re not going to fly,” Az said, slowing down his pace and coming to a stop. He set me down and flared out his wings before tucking them in tightly to his body. “It’s almost a month's travel.”

“The world is that big?” I gasped, taking his open hand. 

“Yes. Now hold tight, it’s a long winnow.”

I did as told, choosing to let him hold my waist instead of my hand. In the several months that have passed since I first met the shadowsinger and the shadow-wielder, Azriel has stopped by my house numerous times. To give me small gifts, or to take me out for a nice dinner. Or to warm my bed . He was a generous male to say the least. 

Xaden wrote often after he left for Basgiath. Not being shy with all the things he wanted to do to me when he came back to Velaris. Thanks to Az, sending and receiving them made communicating so much easier. 

It felt far longer than a normal winnow, at least forty-five seconds of pitch black whirling around us until we came to a stop. I blinked away the stars and we were in some giant training center. I counted four-five-six-seven sparring mats and a line of machines in the back. 

“Where is he?” I asked, not seeing him amongst the few faces. He’s easy to pick out from a crowd. And he wasn’t here. There were several heads of similar hair; one female on a mat with bright pink hair cropped close to her jaw.

“He’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“I can’t wait to see him.” I played with my hands anxiously.

“I didn’t tell him I was bringing you,” Azriel smiled, heading off towards one of the empty mats in the back corner. I had to skip a few steps to keep up. 

“What? Why?”

“Because you were going to be a surprise for him. We do talk about you, and he is far worse at keeping his desires to himself than I am,” he smirked. “It’s my Solstice gift to him. Plus, you’ll help throw him off his game when we’re fighting.”

“You train him as well? Not just with the shadows?” “If he wants to be as strong at wielding as I am, he has to be as physically strong as I am to do so. It can take an incredible toll on the body. And who has more experience, some fifty year old male who has never dealt with a shadow-wielder before, or a five hundred year old male who has had them all his life?”

“Point taken.”

Azriel smiled and kissed the top of my head. “He’s almost here, just tuck yourself back here until I tell you to come out and surprise him.”

“Okay,” I chuckled, sliding behind one of the pillars holding up the ceiling. It was carved from a massive piece of black stone. So shiny I could see my reflection in it. 

A few minutes went by and I could hear the sound of footsteps approaching. The sound of Xaden’s voice greeting Az made my heart jump. He sounded a little gruff, like his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. It wasn’t long before I could hear punches and their feet sweeping across the mats’ surface. 

“Okay, stop.” Azriel shouted through a painting breath. “What is with you today? You’re sloppy. Had I been a real enemy I would’ve already detached your head from your neck.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Xaden said. “Keep going, I’m not going to be the only one bleeding here.”

“Xaden.”

“I said it’s fine.”

“Well, if you won’t tell me-” I felt a cool brush of shadows circle around my hand. “-then maybe you’ll talk to her.”

I stepped out of the shadow and into the light, greeted by the beautiful sight of Xaden’s back. Azriel looked at me, a smile playing on his lips. Az gripped his shoulders and spun him around. Those onyx, gold flecked eyes found mine and I could physically see his shoulders relax. 

“Yn…”

“Surprise!” In two seconds I was up in the air, spinning around in his arms. I giggled, clutching the back of his sweaty head, letting the hair curl around my fingers. “I missed you too.”

“What are you doing here?” He set me on my feet, cupping my face. “I- how are you here?”

“Az winnowed me in. And I had no idea I was coming today, he kind of kidnapped me on my way to my house. Happy Solstice, Xaden.”

He looked behind him as Az stood with his hands on his hips, grinning at both of us. 

“Prick,” Xaden smiled, then kissed me so hard I thought I’d fall over. But the grip he had on my waist wouldn’t ever let me dream of falling. “Okay, sparring done. Let’s get you upstairs and-”

“Not so fast,” Az interrupted, stepping next to me. “You still have training to do.”

“But it’s Solstice, can’t he just skip it for today?”

“Yeah Az,” Xaden mocked. “It’s Solstice, can’t I skip it for today?”

Az glared at both of us. “No. Get back on the mat.”

Xaden groaned. He slid his massive hand across the front of my throat. “How am I supposed to focus now?”

“You weren’t focused before,” Az retorted, picking up a sword. “Now let's go, these drills aren’t going to run themselves.”

Xaden groaned in annoyance. “Will you stay and watch? I need you in my corner to throw him off his game. And to motivate me, of course.” I couldn’t do anything to keep my smile away. “Sure.” I pressed up on my toes and left him with a parting kiss on his damp forehead. “Go kick his ass. Just for me, and I’ll make sure you get first dibs when we get upstairs.”

His eyes darkened. Xaden was not shy when it came to practically shoving his tongue down my throat before he leapt up on the mat. “Let’s get this done, shadowsinger.” 

I watched the two males battel, swinging swords around and clashing them together. Azriel was impeccable with his footwork, but so was Xaden. The two of them looked like a forbidden, hidden secret weapon of mass destruction. They ebbed and flowed. When one moved, the other followed. It was mesmerizing to watch.

And, not to mention, seeing them with both their shirts off, all slick with sweat… It made it impossible to pay attention to anything around me. I was hardly able to force myself to breathe. 

“If you keep staring, pretty girl, you might burn a hole through me,” Xaden said slyly, taking a drink of water. I wasn’t shy about the way I raked my eyes down his torso, and he wasn’t shy about flexing and showing off. 

Az jabbed him in the ribs with the butt end of his sword. “Alright, we’re done for the day.”

“Finally, now we can actually have some fun,” Xaden grinned, pressing me up against the wall. The kiss was full of need, and I could feel just how much he needed me as he pressed my hips into the cold stone. 

Heat radiated off of him. His scent was thick with his sweat and made me want to drop to my knees and run my tongue all over his carved stomach. Had it not been for his hold on me I might’ve just done it. Dropped to my knees, undone the belt holding up his pants, and taken him down my throat…

“Fuck Yn, you don’t know how long I’ve waited to taste you again,” Xaden purred, kissing down my neck. “To hear all those pretty noises.”

“Please,” I breathed. I couldn’t think, not with his scent strangling my brain

Xaden gripped my jaw, forcing me to look at him. “Please what?”

“I need you,” I pleaded. “I need you so bad Xaden. I need you, Azriel.”

I could see that predatory hunger glaze his eyes. From one moment to the next I was in a room, no bigger than my closet back in Velaris. There was a bed, a clothing chest, and that was it save for the line of weapons on the wall.

Not much. And the bed was… not even big enough for Xaden let alone all of us.

“This isn’t going to work,” Azriel grumbled, knocking his wings into everything around him. He let out a string of curses and I could see the shadows curling around his shoulder begin to accumulate.

“Agreed,” I sighed, running my hands over Xadens shoulders. “Anywhere else we could go?”

“Unless you guys want to do this on one of the training mats, then no.” Azriel and I exchanged a look. “I was joking.”

“Don’t care,” Azriel quickly took me out of Xadens grip. “There’s no way in hell this is going to work here. I’d rather sleep naked in Illyria than try to do what I want to do with my pet here.”

My knees went weak. “But what about all the people?”

“Leave that to me.”

Once again, we were back in the training room, Xaden and Az blocking my view. 

“Everyone out,” Azriel’s voice carried over the entire center. People quickly darted around, grabbing bottles of water and shirts left and right. In less than a minute the entire arena was empty. Except for us. 

“I cannot believe you just kicked everyone out,” Xaden scoffed. 

“I won’t hear you complaining when Yn has her mouth on you,” Azriel rolled his eyes. His hand went to my shoulder and he pushed me to my knees. “Get to work pet, I’m getting impatient.”

“Yes sir,” I grinned up at Xaden, undoing the belt at his hips. 

“Fuck I missed your tongue,” Xaden gathered my hair at the back of my head. The soft skin of his tip did wonders for the built up anticipation I’ve had since Az told me where we were going. 

I hummed as he settled in the back of my throat. I worked up and down, holding still when he forced me to. Ten seconds would go by without a breath. It filled me with the most delicious fear. Tears already pricked my eyes. 

“Why are you holding back?” Az asked, pushing on the back of my head until I gagged so hard those tears fell down my cheeks. “That's it, pet. Fucking take it.”

“Easy Az, she still needs to breathe,” Xaden chuckled, wiping away my tears. “But she does look so pretty stuffed full of my cock.”

“Don’t get too used to it,” Az said, pulling me off of him. He grasped my jaw and forced his own cock down. “She’s here to be shared.”

“I wasn’t finished with her yet, shadowsinger,” Xaden growled, shoving Az aside to claim me again. 

“Take what is mine again and I’ll cut out your tongue,” Azriel snarled, pulling Xaden to the wall in a second. 

“Woah woah woah,” I hurried over and stood between the two of them. “As hot as it is to have you two fighting over me, let’s not get violent, okay? There is plenty of me to go around, see?” I took both of their cocks into my hands, stroking them together. 

Xaden shuddered, tossing his head back. Az just grinned down at me. “Does our pet think she’s in charge?”

“No,” I shook my head. “I just want you two to get over yourselves and fuck me senseless.”

“Look at her begging for us, Az,” Xaden took a step towards me, absolutely towering over me. “It’s almost like she has a choice. How pathetic.”

“We’re gonna make you regret saying that.” Az had me on my chest, knees digging into the mat in a split second. He literally ripped off my pants before I could say differently. A hard, unforgiving hand came down on my ass and I screamed. He did it again. 

“The whole fucking Quadrant is gonna hear her if we don’t make her be quiet,” Xaden warned. He kneeled in front of me and lifted my chin. “Unless you want that, pretty thing. Would you like for all of Basgiath to know you’re being fucked dumb by us, hmm? I bet you would, you fucking slut.”

I whimpered, trying to lean away from Azriel so I could take Xaden down my throat. 

“Oh Az, you’ve got to see this. Come look at her,” Xaden mocked, teasing me by inching his hips forward to watch me strain, only to yank it away at the last second. “Did you see that? She’s literally chasing my cock. You want it that bad, huh? Gosh, Yn, you are like a pet.”

“Please,” I begged, nearly frustrated to tears. “Please let me taste you.”

“What do you say, Az. Should I give her what she wants?”

“Just for a minute. I wanna have her even more limp than she was the last time,” Az said. I could feel his smile against my back where he placed a kiss. 

“Be a good girl, Yn.” Xaden finally shifted his hips far enough for me to suck. He wouldn’t move any closer and I could only barely lick his tip. I groaned, the impatient noise carrying farther than I wanted to. I tried to reach as hard as I could but Azriel kept yanking me back every time I got closer. 

I got close again, only to be ripped away. I cried out, dropping my head as I pounded on the floor. “Please,” I begged. “Please let me have him Az, please please.”

“She is literally throwing a tantrum because I won’t let her have your dick, Riorson. This… this is what power is,” Az said, pure sin dripping from his tongue. “You’re fucking defenseless, Yn. We own you. We own your body, we own your pleasure.” A brutal smack to my ass. “Do you understand? You don’t get anything until we say so.”

“Yes,” I gasped, a little light headed at the force of his hand. My voice was trembling. “Yes, you own me. Both of you own me.”

“Good,” Az grit through his teeth, fisting his hand in my hair. His hips met my ass and he walked me forward into Xaden’s lap. With his other hand, He gripped my cheeks until my lips parted. All I could do was take the cock in front of me. “Now make him cum.”

Az moved my head up and down for me, controlling my movements. By the power of magic, I was stripped of the rest of my clothing and those ruthless shadows were back, circling every inch of my skin. 

There was nothing I could do but let Azriel force me onto Xaden. I just kept moaning, which drew the most wonderful noises from the shadow-wielder. 

“You’re really being ruthless tonight, huh?” Xaden said, bucking his hips so my nose hit his pelvic bone every thrust. 

“She was being a brat,” Az explained, releasing another lethal blow on my already sore ass. “She needs to be taught that she can’t get away with any of that.”

“I think she’s learned her lesson,” Xaden said, caressing my damp cheek. “She looks so pretty like this. Ass up, lips swollen… fuck I’m gonna cum.”

Az moved my head even faster, forcing me down down down until I couldn’t breathe. In a minute or two, Xaden was so far down I couldn’t taste him at all. The only sign he was cumming was the strain in his neck and the heaving of his chest.

I choked, gagging for a breath but Az held firm until I began to panic a little.

“I’ll tell you when she’s learned her lesson.”

I was, yet again, yanked away from Xaden. So quickly I was a little dizzy when I ended up in the same position in front of Az. He didn't say anything. Just shoved his cock down my throat. 

“Get behind her and keep her moving, Riorson,” Az commanded, letting go of my hair so Xaden’s hand could take its place. Xaden’s cum trickled down my lips and around Az, I thought he didn’t notice but- “You didn’t even swallow, pet? Bad girl.”

“I- I tried,” I pleaded as I was lifted off. “It was so much, I didn’t have time to-”

“I don’t want to hear excuses." His eyes were like emeralds, but his voice like a knife. “Apologize to Xaden for wasting it.”

“I’m sorry, Xaden,” I sighed, trying to catch my breath. 

Azriel’s hand clamped on my throat so hard I screamed. He tightened and tightened and tightened. “You can do better than that. Tell him what you’re going to do to make it up to him.”

“I’ll- fuck I’ll do anything you want, Xaden. Anything. Anything.”

“You’re really making her beg, Az,” Xaden grinned, taking Az’s hand off my throat so I could breathe. “It’s okay, pretty girl. I know you didn’t mean to waste any of it. It was just too much to swallow down. I’ll just replace it all in your pussy. I know you’ll be able to keep it all in. You won’t have a choice.”

“Please.”

“You’ll get it, after I’m done with you.”

Az positioned me over his cock again, guiding it into my mouth. Without Xadens help, I took it all down and then some. He let me move at my own pace for a little, letting me do as I please. I didn’t falter once, I was too afraid that I’d get another punishment. I’d be lucky if he let me cum.

Xaden’s finger ran from the top of my ass all the way to my clit. He sunk in two fingers and I could hear my wetness hit the floor. “So messy.”

“Fuck her if you want. What’s she gonna do?” Az grinned, now putting his hands on my head. “Ready to take it, pet?”

I nodded, mumbling around him as I prepared. I don’t think I’ll be able to talk tomorrow, that’s for sure. 

Every single square inch of my body was on fire. Between the lack of air, Xaden teasing my clit, and their shadows? I’d be lucky to ever walk again. My fingers and toes were numb with a mix of pleasure and raw, primal fear. Knowing that they, at any point they wanted, could do whatever they wanted to me was… exhilarating.

“You’re doing such a good job, Yn. Making Az feel so good. Keep it up and I’ll make you cum. Would you like that?”

I helplessly nodded. 

“Make her beg for it,” Azriel interjected, forcing me so far down on his dick that I couldn’t breathe. I tried to relax, but I couldn’t breathe. My chest started burning and I was gagging uncontrollably. I tried to pull away, but the hold was too strong on my head. I thrashed. I tried to reach for Xaden, for leverage to get away but I couldn’t move. “Ah ah ah, you’re okay. Stop moving and I’ll let you go. The more you squirm, the more I want to keep you here.”

The words barely registered, but I stopped, tears streaming down my face. A burst of air swept into my lungs and I felt the relief wash over me. Where it came from, I’ll never know, but I was grateful. The taste of Azriel’s cum shot across my tongue and down. Gods above was there a lot…

When he let me up, I scrambled away, backing up into Xaden. His strong arms circled around me as I caught my breath. 

“Too much?” Xaden whispered, pressing kisses to my head. 

I just panted, eyes closed, the ringing in my ears too loud to hear anything. I was so lightheaded. The world was spinning but… I liked it. It felt good to be that out of control of my own body. Nothing could compare to the feeling of my life in someone else’s hands. 

“Yn,” Xaden said a little firmer when I didn’t respond. I just went limp in his grasp. “Are you okay?”

“Y… Yes,” I breathed, my voice nothing but fragments of syllables. “I’m fine.”

“Let's take a break,” Azriel kneeled in front of me, playing with my lips. “Let's get you some water and then we can-”

“No,” I begged, staggering to my knees and into Az, eyes wide. “Please, I need it. I need you so bad.”

“I know you do,” Az said, kissing me gently, “but you also don’t know how terrified you looked. Two minutes, then we’ll get you what you really want.”

I couldn’t really argue against the spymaster. A cup was placed on my lips but I refused to drink. I wanted something first. 

“Yn, please. Just drink a sip. Two sips and then you can have us,” Az baited me, but still refused, turning my nose the opposite way. He sighed. “Don’t make me force you. Please, Yn.”

“Xaden,” I looked over my shoulder. “Can I ride you?”

His eyes went a little wide, but that sly, cocky grin settled on his lips. “Of course you can.”

“After you drink,” Az snapped. “Just two sips is all I’m-”

I got to my knees and straddled Xaden, sinking onto his hard cock. He hissed at the pressure, at the force of me sinking all the way down. I wiggled my hips, taking him deeper until he couldn’t go any more. “I’ll take the water now.”

Azriel just stared at me, white knuckling the cup. He had this feral look in his eyes. That was the only possible way to describe it. He blinked and it was gone, then the cup was at my lips. His hand gently tilted up and I drank it all down, wiping my upper lip with the back of my hand before turning all my attention back to Xaden.

“I got too impatient,” I grinned, crushing my mouth to his. He leaned back, taking me with him as he laid flat on the mat. 

“Ready to do what we talked about?” Xaden said, looking over my head. The light was blocked by Azriel’s silhouette, the shape of his wings casting a shadow over us. 

“Yes.”

I lifted a brow, “What did you two talk about without me?”

“You’ll find out,” Xaden said, bringing my mouth back to his. He caught my tongue between his teeth and pulled, moans spewing out of my mouth. He fucked up into me, feet planted on the floor as he held me in place. 

The sound of our bodies together filled the room and I prayed to the Mother that no one would come in. I don’t think we can explain this one away. 

Hands raked down my spine, caressing every dip and curve of my body. Azriel kissed up my neck. I shivered uncontrollably. 

“Can I cum? Please? I took my punishment so well, please let me cum.” I’m not sure I’m even speaking a language anymore. This might all be in my head. 

“I think we can give you that,” Xaden smiled, fingering my clit. The touch was so light, but it sent me over the edge immediately. I shook and trembled and gasped. Stars filled my eyes as he fucked me through it, not slowing down. A firm hand pushed me flat onto his chest and I could feel Az close in.

I felt an enormous amount of pressure against my pussy. 

“What are you doing?”

“What we discussed a few weeks ago,” Azriel said, keeping me pinned down. “Now, you have to relax or else this is going to hurt. Do you trust me?”

I nodded, “yes, I trust you. I trust both of you.”

“We’re gonna take such good care of you,” Xaden kissed up my chest, teeth grazing my nipple. His hands rubbed up and down my sides, across my thighs. I jolted with another press against my cunt. “Easy, Yn. Just let us take control. You’re being such a good girl. I know it’s a lot, but you can take it. It’s gonna feel so good.”

The tip of Azriel’s cock slipped in right next to Xaden. I couldn’t breathe. At the same time my mind went completely blank. There wasn’t even pain, just pure bliss. I could move my eyes, but nothing else. My arms were pinned down, my legs locked around Xaden’s middle. 

The shadows around me were endless. Holy shit…

“That’s it,” Azriel cooed. “Just let us take you. Just keep drifting.”

I could feel Az sink in, but it was only pressure and pure pleasure. My mind was flooded with images of us, all tangled together, of them to the hilt inside me. I twitched, but I didn’t shudder like I should’ve. 

“We’ve got you, pretty thing,” Xaden’s thumb brushed my cheek. “Just take us. You’ll be alright.”

“Fuck she’s so tight. Cauldron Yn you feel… you’re so incredible.”

I was lifted up, then I was brought back down. Over and over and over. I was reduced to a whining, begging mess of just noise. I couldn’t think words if I tried. I could only feel. Could only feel both of them inside me at the same time. 

My skin was on fire, yet it was cool. The shadows offered a nice sense of reality. It kept me grounded. 

My head lulled back as I was lifted up, rolling forward as I came back down. 

“Malek spare me,” Xaden cursed, throwing his head onto the mat. “Az- Az I can’t- fuck I can’t hold on any longer.”

Both of them moaned at the same time, and I felt Azriel’s teeth clamp onto my shoulder. Warmth bloomed into me and I think I’m cumming, I can’t tell. Maybe it’s Az or Xaden. My mind isn’t my own, every part of me belongs to them now. Every inch of my body is theirs to use.

“You’re taking us so well, Yn. Such a fucking good girl, taking both of our cocks in your pussy like this. I bet you came with Xaden didn’t you? Added to the mess, huh? All you can do is whimper. It’s so adorable, watching you submit to us. You’re nothing but a good fuck toy, a mere pet for us to play with whenever we want.”

“Come on, Yn,” Xaden gripped my face. I could see him, but it was like I was looking through some filter. “You can take more, can’t you? Az still needs to cum. Are you gonna be a good little girl and make him cum?” He nodded my head up and down for me. “Yes you are. You’re gonna take all of it. There's already so much, you're so messy, wanna taste?” 

Not that I could nod, but if I could, I would’ve. Two fingers pressed into my lips and the sweet, yet tangy taste filled my senses. It was like I only knew how to suck on Xadens digits. Like I wasn’t good for anything else but eating the cum he dumped into me. 

“Goooood girl, Yn,” Xaden praised, gagging me slightly. 

I could hear the noises coming from behind me. Azriel was a mess of curses and panting breaths. I could feel the wind from his wings. He was fucking into me so hard. 

Blinding pleasure ripped through me, along with this… this roar from Azriel. I was flattened on top of Xaden, being forced farther and farther onto him. The mighty beats of Az’s wings sounded through the room, he must’ve been using them to fuck into me harder and harder. 

I don’t know when it stopped, when I finally came back to reality. But I opened my eyes and could feel my fingers, could feel the cold mat under us. 

“There she is,” Azriel’s strained voice whispered. “Shhh, you’re alright, we’ve got you.”

I mumbled something. Even I don’t know what it was supposed to be. 

“Easy, Az. Just lay her down,” Xaden instructed and I could feel my legs unfold. I groaned, the stiffness making my joints crack. “We’ve got you, just let us move you.”

Hands were all over me, and I gave up trying to figure out whos belong to who. Every second that passed I gained more feeling back, the tingling subsiding, giving away to pain and this settled ache in my bones. 

“Still with us?” Xaden kissed my cheek, then the tip of my nose.

“Mhmm,” I nodded, keeping my eyes closed. “It’s just bright in here.”

“Let's change that,” Xaden said, and then the room felt ten degrees cooler. “Better?”

I looked around and there was a wall of shadow around our mat. It blocked out most of the light. “Much.”

“You did so well, Yn,” Az said, massive hands squeezing my thighs to get blood back to them. “So so so fucking good.”

“The best,” Xaden agreed. 

I smiled, lifting up my head, I tried to turn over but my arms were trembling so badly I couldn’t. I giggled, “What did you guys do to me?”

“So many wonderful things,” Xaden grinned, kissing my swollen lips. “You were so perfect. You did so amazing. So proud of you.”

I was mush as I laid back down, warm and fuzzy with their sweet words. 

“What do you need?” Azriel asked, playing gently with my hair. 

I took a moment to listen to my body. I noted the utter calm that was inside, and the sheer pain between my legs. There was no moisture in my mouth and I knew it must’ve been intense. I must’ve made a face because there was instantly another cup of water at my lips. 

“Sit up just a little for me, sweetheart,” Az put one of his, again, massive, thighs under my head so I could sit up without having to use any muscle. I could get used to being pampered like this. “Drink slowly.”

It was so refreshing, so cold I could feel it go all the way down. My mind slowly became my own again and I could see clearer. There was no longer this fuzz to my vision. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” A kiss to my forehead. “Anything else?” I shivered. He chuckled, “Clothes it is.”

“Maybe a bed? Not this hard mat? No offense Xaden but you all should really get more comfortable sparring rings.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Xaden grumbled, throwing me a lazy smile. “Let's get you dressed.”

One limb at a time they stuffed me into clothes. They were not the ones I had been wearing, but I wasn’t about to object to them. They smelled like Xaden, and when I looked down, I saw the Fourth Wing patch embroidered on the breast. My heart swooned. 

“Are you in any pain?” Az asked. His concern was so sweet. 

“I’m okay, I promise. You don’t need to worry,” I rubbed his cheek. 

“If you could see what you look like right now you might be singing a different tune,” Xaden scanned my face, tucking hair behind my ear. “You look… thoroughly fucked, to say the least.”

“Good,” I smiled, nuzzling into Az. “Can we all go back to Velaris and sleep now?”

“Sounds like a lovely plan.”

I let them haul me up and I barely clung to Az as he stood up. He positioned me with my legs around his hips, his arms around my torso to keep me strapped to him. The world whizzed by in an instant and I knew we’d be home soon.

Somewhere along the way I fell asleep, knowing that they would take care of me. Knowing that I couldn't be anywhere safer than in their arms.

[clolikescloquetas]

THINGS I HOPE TO SEE (OR NOT) IN ACOTAR4

Nesta NOT STAYING AT THE ILLYRIANS MOUNTAINS for long, and travelling to other courts or the continent instead so she sees the world just like she wanted to do before the war. I think sending her away to a cold mountain surrounded by misogynistic warriors who hate her and are scared of her was a stupid af decision. Especially when it's a war camp and war triggers her PTSD. Oh and let's not forget there's a revolution about to take place. I see it as a very forced way of the narrative to make cassian and nesta interact. I understand an unexpected turn of events was needed as a beginning for acotar4, but going to the mountains shouldn't be anything more than a beginning that quickly leads us to another location. We've been told many times that nesta is "illyrian at heart" but I don't buy it. She isn't such thing, and her character is way too complex and interesting and has too much potential to just make her fit into a culture she doesn't belong to and has nothing in common with (it's stupid to think a place that reveres war and bloodshed will help her heal).

Besides, after all the places the previous books introduced I think it would be boring to stick to the same court. I loved Velaris but now that Feyre's story has ended it's time to move on. Not to mention that the Night Court is the worst place for Nesta, it reminds her of all her trauma and its high lord is a male she despises. Nesta needs to go somewhere else where she can recover her spirit and independence, and be free of the commands of a male that gives her orders as if she were her subject (she is not).

Hopefully, knowing how much sjm loves plot twists and given how she's already told us where nesta is supposed to go, it won't stay like that for long.

NO TRAINING. Maybe learning self defense techniques but that's as far as I'll go. No training to turn her into an almighty warrior. Nesta has power from literally the mightiest magic device in the world, and you're telling me getting beat on a ring will empower her?? Even when she's previously stated her refusal to train and said fighting isn't the only thing that makes someone strong?? And we're talking about Nesta, whose powers make her lethal. Making Nesta train would butcher her character and istg if they pull the "fighting helps her go back to her old self and empowers her" I will lose it. Enough with making that troupe work for everyone. We've seen it before and it has worked out well for other character, but in this case it wouldn't feel right and would be boring af.

I've seen a few people say they want Nesta to command the Illyrians, and help with the whole misogynist issue they have, or that she should do the Blood Rite I don't know if the name is correct, I don't remember it to gain the respect of the warriors. How should I put this: NO. This is more of the "Nesta is Illyrian at heart" bullshit Rhysass likes to pull, when what he actually means is that she is proud and stubborn. She, and I can't stress this enough, is not Illyrian. She shouldn't be participating in traditions she doesn't understand and doesn't engage in (she doesn't want to learn how to fight for fuck's sake) and we certainly don't need nesta to pull a white saviour behavior. I don't want her to come and solve a centuries old problem of a culture she doesn't belong to. And I don't see how she could do that in a credible way either, given how they all are terrified and wary of her. This also applies to the rioting issue that is looming over the illyrian camps.

Nesta healing and improving her mental health with cassian at her side to support her, without making him the reason why she gets better. And showing the effects war has on a veteran as Cassian too.

Someone, preferably Nesta, calling out Feyre, Rhysass and the rest of the IC on their shitty behavior and actions, and the narrative finally acknowledging their mistakes and portraying them as the deeply flawed characters they are. Now that we don't have Feyre's POV anymore there are no excuses for condoning their shit.

Cassian realising he has judged, ignored and said cruel things (like he doesn't know why her sisters love her are u kidding me) to Nesta and how he hasn't stood up for her before his friends. Oh and how he ignores her when Mor is present. I'm a sucker for nessian, but before they are a thing, he should apologize. I don't like how he treats nesta poorly and then expects her to love him, when she doesn't owe him shit. It's selfish of him to expect her to fit into his family even when they all hate her. I hope acotar4 handles well these issues. And I can't wait too read Nesta's POV and know why she didn't want to be close to Cassian after the war.

Nesta making new friends on her own, people who respect her and love her. I love nessian but I don't want their relationship to be the only deep interaction and relationship Nesta has. I would LOVE to see her and lucien become best friends (they were supposed to be lovers after all, and although a romantic relationship has been dismissed I'm sure their friendship dynamic would be amazing), or get acquainted with Helion or even Azriel. She needs to meet new people, and preferably not from the night court.

We've read many times how Nesta's powers are described as great and terrible. The source of her power is the fucking cauldron, used to create the world. Even tho no one knows yet what those powers are exactly, she has used them to turn hundreds of soldiers to ashes and even the bone carver, a death GOD, has spoken of the way the earth trembled at her power when Nesta was made. I want these powers to be a huuge part of the plot in this book. I want Nesta to master them fully, and for us to see the process. I don't know if I'm the only one who thinks like this, but when Feyre discovered she had powers from all the high lords, it seemed to me that she mastered them too quickly. I was hoping to get more attention on that issue, but it got dismissed quite quickly. Now that it's Nesta's time, I want the book to fully focus on these powers. Oh, and what I want the most is my baby to become the most powerful creature in the continent. More mighty than Rhysass and the other high lords by far. You can't give us a whole book preaching how nesta is really powerful, and how she took something from the cauldron that made the earth tremble, and then turn her into a common witch or something similar. I mean you can't expect me to believe the high lords have more power than the cauldron.

Although I find that to be another plot hole, bc the cauldron was supposed to be almighty but then Rhys and Feyre restored it when it broke?? Does that mean they are more powerfull than the object that created their world?? If that is so, they why didn't they win against hybern sooner??

Anyways, I want Nesta to never have to bow to anyone. Ever.

Well that is what I'd like to see in the next book. Which, based on the information we have, is basically the opposite of what will happen. As far as we know, sjm said there would be a lot of training in this book (I assume she was talking about Nesta) so there goes the chance of her not been a warrior. We know she'll go to Illyria, and although it's my hope she leaves soon or that she never goes in the first place, I know that's not what's going to happen.

And then there's the sex. Sjm said she had to delete some of the sex scenes bc her editor said they were too much and unnecessary. Which means there are still plenty of sex scenes in the books, as sjm confirmed. Don't get me wrong, smut is fine if handled correctly. But I don't think it will he handled correctly.

In fact, I think acotar4 will be placed on illyria the whole book or at least a huge part of it, and that we'll have lots of unnecessary and meaningless sex scenes inside of Cassian's cabin in the mountains instead of a well written and interesting plot, a well developed and complex relationship between the characters and a well handled depiction of PTSD and trauma healing.

In my mind it'll go like this:

Nesta arrives in the mountains. She and cassian are mean to each other for a while and the sexual tension is pretty obvious between them. Nesta starts training. At the beginning she hates it but over time she ends up loving it and excelling. Sex. Nesta makes a few friends between the illyrian female warriors she trains with, whose characters are shallow and totally secondary. Sex. More sex. Maybe something about Nesta's powers. A scene where cassian and nesta have an openhearted conversation about their relationship. Cassian never acknowledges how he treated Nesta, but she will apologise to him for how she kept him away. This leads to more sex. Nesta makes up with feyre, and apologies to her for being mean or whatever sjm comes up with. Feyre doesn't apologize back, or it's a shitty apologize for sure. Sex. Nesta stablish a cordial although cold relationship with Rhysass and Mor bc apparently she and Az are not destined to interact (even tho Az would totally oppose Nesta's situation of being sent to the illyrian camps). Sex. Nesta does the Rite. Sex. Sex. Something about the illyrian rebels. Cassian gets hurt. Nesta goes feral and gets a hold on the illyrian people. They respect her and answer to her now. Sex.

Or something along these lines. Oh and I have the impression sjm loves her main characters too much to write any scene showing how the decisions, actions or behaviour regarding Nesta of Feyre and Rhys were wrong. Acknowledging this could make it seem like they are flawed people like the rest, and apparently that's not possible.

I pray to be proved wrong once the book is released. Only time will tell.

[thespianbooks]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter One//

(Chapter one) (Chapter two) (Chapter three) (Chapter four) (Chapter five) (Chapter six) (Chapter seven) (Chapter eight) (Chapter nine) (Chapter ten)

I knew it was bound to happen eventually. Surrounded by the new walls in this estate, after growing so familiar with Rhys’s old room—my old room, at the House of Wind; a part of me knew the new surroundings might trigger the nightmares to return. Even if over a decade had passed, a part of me was, and would probably always be haunted by the events that had taken place Under the Mountain. At first, I dreamt of stabbing myself in the heart, as I had the young male and female fae. Over the years the nightmares evolved, sometimes as gory and painful as it had been to actually live through it, and other times an array of images would pass through my mind in a panic—as if I were living through it all at once in a matter of seconds. Images of blood, Amarantha, the knife in my blood-soaked hands—of Rhys. Of Rhys’s pained face as he desperately tried to get to me during Amarantha’s attack, wielding a knife of his own. Tonight, in particular, those flashing images conjured up old and ancient feelings of panic in me that I had not experienced since I was newly Made; since my time in the Spring Court. Since before I learned Rhys was my mate; before I overcame that overwhelming despair that had threatened to drown me. The nightmares hadn’t stirred those emotions in over a decade, but tonight was different. 

I jolted awake in a cold sweat, my skin clammy and stomach roiling at the particularly violent images of my blood-soaked hands and Rhys’s panicked and desperate face still lingering as I tried to discern reality from dream. I silently thanked the Cauldron that Rhys wasn’t with me as I made a mad dash for the bathing room attached to our suite. I barely made it to the toilet as I vomited up the dinner, and probably the entirety of my stomach contents from the day before, I had with Mor. My eyes burned as the wave intensified, reminding me of those days in the Spring Court, a couple of sobs escaping between my heaves. 

Breathe

You’re free. We’re free. And safe

Just breathe

As the wave of nausea finally began to pass, and the heaving stopped, I took a few deep breaths as Rhys guided me through our bond. Nerves settled, I flushed the toilet and stood slowly. Once I was confident I wouldn’t sway on my feet, I padded over to the sink, rinsing my mouth out thoroughly. Sighing deeply once again, I smiled softly as I felt those familiar dark-shadowed talons caress my mental shields before lowering them and allowing Rhys in. 

Hello Feyre darling

My smile widened. I’m alright, just another bad dream

Must have been a bad one. Your nightmares haven’t caused you to puke your guts up in years. 

It’s because I’m alone in this big house without you. 

I felt his dark laugh reverberate through the bond. I knew I couldn’t blame him for performing his duties as the High Lord of the Night Court, particularly in matters of the Illyrian sort. He, Cassian, and Azriel were duty-bound to attend and oversee the Blood Rite of their novice-warriors. As High Lord, commander of armies, and spymaster, the trio of Illyrians had taken it upon themselves to attend the ceremonies before would-be warriors were sent off to fend for themselves and survive in the mountains. Previously, they had only attended the ceremonies at the beginning and end of the blood rite on the first and last day, but this year they decided to stay the week to welcome, congratulate, and perform all ceremonial rights for the survivors and new Illyrian warriors. 

Though it had only been three days since they left, it was the longest Rhys and I had been apart since before the war with Hybern. The first couple of years after the war had been a hard period of adjustment, and while there were still days where I only saw Rhys first thing in the morning and not again until right before bed, over the last decade we had managed to make more time for each other. Especially after our first Winter Solstice together, after coming to the decision that we would try and conceive the firstborn the bone-carver had once shown me, we always found time to spend together—just the two of us. Perhaps that was the real reason why my despairing nightmares had returned. Perhaps it was simply because I missed him, his warmth as we lay entangled in our sheets—our new sheets in this estate I built for us, our family. 

The estate Rhys had given me—us, really, had taken a little longer to remodel than I had originally hoped. He had told me to build a painting studio for myself, a room for each member of our inner circle, including my sisters...including the would-be son we had yet to conceive. I worked on the nursery first; once I had officially shifted all my focus on the estate-building project, it was all I could think about. The art studio I opened in the Rainbow, with Ressina, was beginning to flourish and after countless days of watching fae children heal from their trauma the war caused, I wanted nothing more than to prepare the nursery for my future child—as a form of my own healing process.

But as time passed, and my cycles returned at their regular intervals, I shifted my focus from the nursery to the rest of our estate. As an attempt to distract myself from it, I made sure to create the perfect space for every member of our inner circle. Everyone had their own living quarters, allowing them to freely stay or leave at their leisure. Cassian and Azriel were delighted to have their own space; though the former was more vocal about it, I knew Az was glad to have a place of solace—especially since space was so limited at our townhouse. The two Illyrians were especially pleased with the training grounds in the back of the estate, past the gardens. Rhys had the most influence over that aspect of the estate, since the trio used the space so frequently.

Mor was especially ecstatic to have a new room—an upgrade she called it, with an abundance of closet space which allowed her to show off her multiple pieces of fashion from the various courts of Prythian to her heart's content. Even Amren was pleased with not only her luxurious suite; more luxurious than mine and Rhys’s that allowed her to display the fine jewelry and baubles she collected over the years, but also with the two-story library lined with stacks of books that even I couldn’t resist browsing. 

Elain had been my biggest help in planning our estate, and when I asked what she wanted, she simply—and shyly, requested a garden. A now wide and expansive garden, with a vast greenhouse, which she tended to with the groundskeeper every day. Her living quarters were combined with Nesta’s, who never admittedly claimed to live in our estate, but over the years settled and even sold the small apartment she once resided in on the other side of the Sidra. I couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with Cassian’s growing influence, but I knew it was mostly due to Elain and Amren. I was only happy to see her on a nearly day-to-day basis. 

I had indeed built the house of my dreams—our dreams, filled with family, staff and sentries with their own living quarters, and more than an adequate amount of space for us all. After three years of careful planning and attending to every last detail, along with balancing my shared duties as High Lady; our estate was now a masterpiece with an empty nursery. I pushed away from the thought, reminding myself that fae children—fae babies, were rare. That night on the Winter Solstice when we decided we were ready for them, Rhys had warned me it could take years. At the time, I hadn’t cared, but as the years passed I often wondered if I would ever see the beautiful face of the son the bone-carver had shown me. 

I tried not to lose faith, in the Mother, the cauldron, all of it. Every time the disappointment showed in my face when my excruciating cycle would return, Rhys knew and reassured me that it would happen for us. I tried not to think about it with my mental shields down, or shout it down the bond, which I was more efficient at building every year. Not that I actively liked to block Rhys out, I rather enjoyed communicating through our bond, depended on it—especially on a night like this.

I’d rather not worry about you getting sick every night this week. I’ll come home tomorrow

You don’t need to do that, I’m really fine. Maybe it was that big dinner I had.

Funny, I almost believed you for a second Feyre, darling

I sighed audibly, sure that he knew I did. It was just an intense nightmare. They still come and go, you know they do

I do—but still-

Don’t be such a mother hen. I snapped. It was a bad dream and a bad reaction. I’ll be fine in the morning.

Silence followed for longer than I liked, and I felt some remorse for snapping at him. Knowing my feelings, my experience, with overprotective behavior had him reigning it in as much as possible. It was still there from time to time, but I knew my mate. Knew when he was overprotective, it meant he couldn’t help himself but would in no way force me to his will. Still, my feelings of guilt remained. It was true that it had been years since a nightmare caused this reaction, and had the roles been reversed, I would want to be at his side. 

I was about to apologize before he sent another warm message down the bond; As you wish, High Lady

I rolled my eyes. That wasn’t exactly an order, you know.

Oh I know, but I also know just how much you love ordering me around

I smiled as I settled in our bed, imagining his cocky grin adorning his handsome face, violet eyes glimmering with mischief. I sighed again, if that were the case, I would actually order you back home.

I still can

No, no I’m alright. I feel better already. Plus you need to be there. Go enjoy your Illyrian rituals and ceremonies and whatnot.

As you wish, High Lady

I snorted before sending him a vulgar gesture down the bond and raising my mental shield of adamant as I closed my eyes, sleep once again starting to claim my body; the timbre of his dark laughter resounding softly in the shadows around me, causing my stomach to flutter delicately as the sound lingered and lulled me into a new sleep.

[booksnmore]

Outflow Boundary

Just a lil drabble about our favorite High Lord and High Lady. I’m horrible about making sure everything I say aligns with book canon and so I made a point not to check this time. If I made a mistake about something plz don’t hurt me i’m smol. Otherwise, I hope you like it! Please reblog it if you do, because that’s super helpful to content creators!

The normally clear skies above Velaris were shrouded in clouds promising storms. Watery sunlight tried and failed to stream through the clouds, and the air typically spiced with the myriad scents from the restaurants along the Sidra was stale and heavy. 

The townhouse sat undisturbed by this change in weather, Cerridwen and Nuala busy in the kitchen kneading dough for supper. They whispered between one another, their words almost as incorporeal as their bodies, so low that Feyre couldn’t catch anything they were saying as she entered the room. Her hair was up in what could generously be called a messy bun, and the paint on her face seemed to have gotten mixed in with the honey-brown locks. 

“Good morning,” she said with a distracted smile, reaching past the now-silent handmaidens to grab a piece of fruit. She was so close to finishing the art piece that she was planning to put on display, but something about it wasn’t right. Her brow crinkled in displeasure as she tried to figure out what the problem was, and it was because of this deep distraction that she missed the night-chilled presence of her mate when he entered the room.

“Feyre, darling,” purred Rhysand, sweeping a loose tendril of hair from her neck and dropping a kiss in its place. Feyre felt goosebumps spread down her arms, and for a moment the furrow on her brow disappeared. Leaning against his solid chest, she looked up into his eyes with a gentle smile. 

“Good morning, my most handsome Lord,” she replied, standing on her toes to kiss his lips which, after a teasing moment, he obligingly lowered. “Or is it my most cunning Lord?” She raised her breakfast, offering him a bite. Instead of accepting, he held up a basket of steaming sweet rolls, giving her a smug smile when she instantly reached for them. 

“I thought you might want some,” he chuckled, surrendering by way of placing the basket on the counter where she fished one out. Feyre began to toss the sugary bread between her hands to cool it, regretting her haste but unwilling to let Rhys know it. Finally she sat the bread back in the basket, pretending to lose interest in it. A weak excuse, but her fingers were hot!

“What are your plans for the day?” she asked as she hopped up on the counter. He stepped between her legs and rested his chin on her head, holding them together for a long moment. After the damage Amarantha inflicted, Rhys relished the little moments they could have just basking in one another’s presence. Feeling her chest rise and fall against him relieved some of the stress coiled in his stomach.

“I told Cassian I’d fly out to one of the War Camps today. Apparently something about ‘let the females train’ was too hard for them to understand. We’re going out to see if we can clear up some of these...misunderstandings.”

They both knew that the Illyrians could be sexist to a fault, and that it was no mere misunderstanding that was preventing the females from training. Even after the war the Illyrian males in the mountains were still having trouble with this. Feyre was suddenly glad for her extended lifespan. At least now she could stay a thorn in their sides for the next, say, five hundred years?

“Give them hell from me,” she murmured against his chest, unwilling to pull out of his arms just yet. 

“Always,” he rumbled. Still, he didn’t step back. Feyre noticed then that the twins weren’t there, having stepped out to give them some privacy. Oh. She blushed. Maybe she and Rhys were a little...amorous at times but for the handmaidens to expect them to… 

This caused her to giggle quietly under her breath which instantly piqued Rhys’ curiosity. “And just what’s so funny?” 

“Nuala and Cerridwen left because they assumed we’d want to use the counter for more exciting things than bread-making.” She pulled back and glanced behind her at the sticky, floury surface they’d so kindly relinquished.

“Remind me to thank them,” he said with a smirk. Meeting her gaze, he cocked an eyebrow, asking a question so obvious he didn’t even have to initiate a mental link.

She gave the answering grin of a vixen and leaned forward, fingers finding the buttons on his shirt with practiced ease. 

“When is Cassian supposed to meet you?” she asked, tipping her head back and finding his lips with hers.

Rhys groaned, taking a second to nibble down her jaw. “In about half an hour. And-” he said, cutting her off before she could speak, “-that isn’t enough time for me to do half of what I would like to.”

His lips found the sensitive place on her throat and lathed it with kisses, drawing a low moan from Feyre. 

“Then cut it out,” she panted when he lifted his head from her neck, “Or you run the risk of leaving me here alone like this.” Her fingers slid up the base of his skull into his hair, tugging gently at the roots to pull his face away from her sensitive skin. 

“You started it,” he said, not entirely truthfully. He sounded petulant, like a child who’d lost his favorite toy. She gave him a catty grin that promised later and pushed him back a step so she could slip off of the counter. 

“I’m also finishing it,” she said, putting some distance between them by way of the island. She brushed the hair that had come loose behind an ear and tried to slow her breathing. Rhys could always make her this way, and she considered herself the luckiest female in the world. 

“I’ll make sure we’re both finished when I get back tonight,” he said with a promise in his gaze, straightening the cuffs on his shirt. He’d yet to don his Illyrian armor and was simply dressed in Night Court blacks and golds, a look that Feyre would never tell him got her hot. 

She began to open her mouth on a retort when the first crash of thunder shook the house. Jars in the pantry rattled and the bag of flour perched precariously on the edge of the counter fell to the floor with a dull thud, sending up a plume of white dust. 

Rhys was stunned for a moment, then began to laugh uproariously, holding his sides at the flour that now covered his pants legs. He stopped, however, when he realized Feyre hadn’t joined in. Looking across the kitchen, he saw her, pale-faced and still as death. 

He was at her side, only belatedly realizing he’d winnowed those few feet to get to her faster. Arms gripping her shoulders, he looked down at her face. “Feyre, what’s the matter? Are you alright?” 

She flinched backwards when he grabbed her, tucking her face to her chest and stumbling back a step into the wall. The jolt from hitting the wall seemed to wake her up, and though the fear was still there, none of the bone-chilling numbness was. 

Releasing a relieved breath, Rhys stepped forwards again and cautiously reached out a hand, resting her cheek in his palm when she didn’t pull back. He waited silently for her answer, violet eyes filled with an intense mixture of confusion and fear.

“I…” She swallowed and nestled into his hand, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry, Rhys. I don’t know what came over me. I-”

Another crack of thunder shook the house, though not at much as the first one, and had Feyre rushing headlong into Rhys’ arms. Clutching her tightly to him, he began to murmur soft words of comfort, his wings appearing to cocoon them. Thunder rolled across the sky a third time, accompanied by the soft, insistent patter of rain against the glass panes in the window. It seemed the storm finally decided to let loose.

“Are you sure you don’t know?” asked Rhys, still unconvinced. He stroked her hair, intently focused on his mate. He hadn’t seen fear like this in her for a long time and wanted to destroy whatever the cause. Unfortunately for him, even Rhys couldn’t fight nature. 

“Yeah,” she said softly, not lifting her face from where he had it on his chest. “Sorry, it’s stupid.” He felt her shame through their mental bond and felt a flicker of anger.

“Don’t feel embarrassed, Feyre,” he murmured, shaking his head slowly. “Everyone’s scared of something. Well, not me of course, but Cassian is terrified of snakes. Get a piece of string that even looks like a snake and he’s airborne.” 

His attempt at humor elicited a small humph of laughter from Feyre, but still that nagging fear hung around her. Rhys stood silently, rocking her to and fro, and hoped that she would admit whatever the real problem was. His wings muffled most of the thunder, but this storm was a big one and the lightning flashing out the window briefly lit up his wings as it crashed above them.

“It sounds like destruction. Like a room exploding and only fear standing between me and death. Like a knife in the wall behind me.” Her words were small and almost inaudible but Rhys heard them clearly. Anger sliced through him like a knife, followed swiftly by regret. He’d left her alone there with him, knowing the horrors he could commit, did commit. 

Rhys’ hold on her grew tighter, and it was a long time before he spoke. “I’m so sorry, darling,” he breathed, the words stirring the hair against her temple. “I never should have let you go back with that spineless bastard. I should’ve killed him where he stood-”

Feyre hesitantly touched his mental shields, stroking her hand down the cool adamantine walls. He stopped his tirade suddenly, curious and worried. Without a second thought he dropped his walls and let her in, welcomed his mate, his equal, his Lady. 

Her presence was warmth and starlight and paint, and he knew it as well as he knew his own. Rhys waited as he felt her walk around in his mind, simply stroking an idle finger down the back of her arm. Finally, she spoke, mind to mind.

“It’s not your fault,” came the whisper of her thoughts, filled with understanding and compassion and overwhelming, absolute love. “I wouldn’t have listened to you and you know it. It was my battle, Rhys. Mine. And I won, I beat him. We beat him. So don’t pity me or try to avenge me. Just stay with me, okay?” 

“Okay,” he said roughly aloud, unable to articulate more. It hadn’t been long ago that he had accepted that he would never return to Velaris, that he would serve Amarantha forever and never see his family again. Now he held his mate who loved him. She loved him, despite everything. Rhys couldn’t hide the chills running up his arms as he considered how fortunate he was to have Feyre.

--

Rhys shifted Feyre in his lap, trying not to disturb her. The firelight danced over her skin, finally returned to its natural color. He nodded to Cassian, and the warlord entered their living room without a sound. 

Cass’s face softened when his gaze passed over Feyre. “I let the camp know we would be coming tomorrow due to the weather,” he whispered, slowly understanding why Rhys, who loved the challenge of a good flight, would postpone the visit. “I got back the standard, ‘You lazy bastards can’t fly in a little storm like this? Maybe when you get to camp I can show you what a real Illyrian male can do.’ He sure does get cocky over letter, doesn’t he?”

They both laughed quietly which caused Feyre to stir and curl closer against Rhys. The High Lord took a moment to tuck the blanket back under her chin before responding. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to bring Az along and really make a better impression then, huh?” He cocked an eyebrow at his general, taking a moment to recognize what they had both become since those mud-covered days at camp. 

“Then I’ll see you two around noon tomorrow?” asked Cassian, already backing away to leave the two alone. Nesta’s scent was everywhere in this house, and it made him want to crawl out of his own skin. He was eager to spread his wings and catch the wild air currents stirred up by the storm, eager to fill his lungs with air that smelled of atmosphere and petrichor and not of the most bull-headed Archeron sister. 

Rhys gave his brother a farewell nod before turning his attention back to Feyre who had balled her fists into his shirt. Fists that were balled, Cassian noted in amusement, not in fear. He pitied whoever was on the receiving end of her anger in her dream.

--

TAGS: @highqueenofelfhame​ (if u wanna be tagged next time I put out questionably decent content, plz lemme know!)

[nisaeiam]

TIMELESS - an ACOTAR fanfiction

After spending her entire life in Cretea, Zivia finds herself in the company of the Night Court, sent as an emissary to help after the war. As she navigates her way outside her once secluded life, she develops unlikely bonds with the people around her - especially with the one wreathed in shadows.

PROLOGUE, CHAPTER 1, CHAPTER 2, CHAPTER 3, CHAPTER 4, CHAPTER 5

Also posted here on fanfiction.net

CHAPTER 6

The city of Velaris glowed under the afternoon sun as Zivia leaned over the balcony at the House of Wind. The others have left after their discussion earlier, except for Mor.

"Isn't it pretty?" she said as she stepped beside her on the railing.

The wind blew and Zivia closed her eyes, feeling the sweet caress on her face. "It is."

"Sorry about earlier."

She opened her eyes and turned toward Mor who appeared to be looking far into the city, but not really. Her gaze felt lost farther away.

"Do I really look that weak?" She meant it as a joke.

"No! Of course not, no." Mor snapped her attention to her and shook her head vigorously. "I don't doubt your abilities for a second. I know how you're completely capable of handling yourself on your own." She let out a soft chuckle. "The moment I saw how you effortlessly got under Rhys's skin I knew that then."

Zivia lifted her brows as a smile tugged at her lips. It was never her intention to annoy the High Lord, contrary to what her parents probably would have wanted her to do, but she didn't think that it would be so easy. Sure, she was told that the strongest Lord in Prythian's history isn't at all that bad and terrorizing as people perceives him to be but to actually see that soft albeit sensitive side of his, she couldn't help but tease him for it and that it wouldn't take that much effort on her part.

Mor looked back over the balcony. Her golden locks catching the afternoon chill.

"It was a piss-poor attempt to get Azriel to volunteer accompanying you."

"Why?"

"Because I – " She took a deep breath as if trying to snatch her lost words from the air. "You see, my father will be coming here in a week."

The bite in her voice at the word 'father' told her something about their relationship. Her suspicions were confirmed when Mor told her the story of her past with her family and the events that led to him going to the city.

"Az and Cassian would be looking out for him the entire visit. By the cauldron, they've actually been planning security protocols for months now!"

"But you're still skeptical."

"Yes." Mor sighed. "I just have this feeling that it won't go well. I know Keir. He'll think my absence as a sign of weakness and he wouldn't pass an opportunity to mock me in their presence. Azriel, he'd – " She cut herself off and started shaking her head. "It won't end well."

"You care for him."

It was more of a question than a declaration. Zivia noticed the tension between the two every time they get into close proximity with each other. If not for the fact that either of them would intentionally avoid or ignore each other at some times, she'd actually think that they're together.

"It's not like that." Mor said. "I mean I do care for him, but not in that way. It's really complicated."

"Ah. But he cares for you in that way."

Mor paused, puckering her lips as she threw a side glance at her.

"He's really not that good in hiding that, is he? Not as much as he thinks he does, at least."

She shrugged her shoulders and gave her a tight-lipped smile in reply. Anyone would've discerned those occasional glances that the Illyrian sends her way, the way his shadows would disappear in her presence or how his aura changes at the sight of her. How his unreadable face becomes readable; muscles in his jaw relaxing, gaze softening ever so slightly, lips trembling a bit – "

She shook her head at the thought. She's paying too much attention.

"Well good thing you got him to go." She muttered as she scratched her nose, ignoring the heat that crept up her body.

"Good thing that Rhys allowed him to go. He probably knew what I was trying to do. He knew that that visit won't go as smoothly as he wants it to be if Azriel were to be included in the equation, given what happened the last time he and Eris met."

"No worries. I'll keep him occupied."

As soon as the words left her lips, she regretted saying them. The look on Mor's face told her enough how it all sounded so wrong. She should've used a different term. But before she could explain herself, Mor gave her a mischievous smile and said, "I know you would."

Then she left her at the balcony cursing at herself for being flustered.

===================

Stardusts

That's what Zivia thought as she looked at all the lights dancing off the waves of the river. It looked like an extension of the night sky above them – full of stars that are so close to the touch. They just finished eating dinner at a restaurant where the group clearly frequented as the owner blurted "Oh, a newcomer!" as soon as she saw her.

The food they had wasn't anything like she tasted before and as much as she'd like to gorge herself on it, she couldn't help feeling all nervous and awkward infront a large group of people. It was one thing to dine with the High Lord and his entourage at the House of Wind. Eating out with them at a public place like this was definitely out of her comfort zone. Not to mention the addition of two more people – one whose presence reminded her of Jude, her father's general and also the one who trained her. Despite the female's small stature, she looked threatening enough that she felt like standing in attention and ready to obey her every command. The other one made her lament her absolute lack of effort in making herself presentable. Not that it would make her any prettier than the lady who so effortlessly looked like a goddess. She later learned that she's actually the High Lady's older sister.

The Cauldron definitely didn't hold back when it created these beings.

She was deep in thought when Mor slung an arm over her shoulder and giggled in her ear.

"Want to come with us?"

Her cheeks were flushed with alcohol but she doesn't seem too drunk, yet.

"Where? We just ate."

"We're going to Rita's," said Cassian, appearing at their side. "Mor here likes to dance. Join us and we'll show you how great parties are here at the Night Court."

"I have no intention of making a spectacle of myself, thank you very much."

Cassian let out a snort but she ignored it. The thought of going for a dance at this hour wasn't exactly how she envisioned spending the rest of her night. Besides, she already reached the limit of her allotted social interactions for the day. She needed – wanted – to be alone for now.

And she couldn't dance.

"Come on. It'll be fun!" pleaded Mor. "Azriel's coming too."

Her head snapped to the shadowsinger who was lounging by the diner's entrance. He was having a conversation with the petite female while Rhysand was busy paying their tab, Feyre and her sister were saying their thanks to the shopowner.

He obviously didn't strike her as the reveller sort but perhaps broody guys also needed to let themselves loose once in a while. Squinting her eyes, she tried to imagine how is he actually going to do that. It seems odd – if not entirely weird and unlikely. He turned and met her eyes, eyebrows shooting up in question. She quickly averted and focused back on Mor.

"Uhh. No. I'm sorry but I'm feeling a bit tired already so I'll have to pass."

She flashed an awkward smile and hoped that they wouldn't press any further because she couldn't think of any more lousy excuses to give.

Thank the Mother they didn't.

They all exchanged farewells as they parted ways. Mor gave her a small wave as she walked up the street to where Cassian was already waiting. Azriel followed behind. The High Lady and her sister headed straight for the river-estate while the other female – Amren – went off on her own. She doesn't seem to be staying with them as she did not see her either at the house the time she went there.

"Don't tell me you're going dancing too?" she said when they were all out of sight and Rhysand remained standing across her at the riverside.

"I might," he chuckled. "But no, I need to retrieve something from the town house."

She considered for a moment before offering to walk with him there, saying something about helping in digestion. Rhys just cocked his head and started walking.

"How are Miraym and Drakon doing?" he asked as they strode over the bridge. Some of the people would pause to greet their lord whenever they passed by them. It still quite unnerves her whenever their attention would fall on her so she threw an illusion to hide her attention-seeking wings.

"They're doing fine now. They've been quite busy since after returning from the war creating various wards and spells to ensure that the Cauldron remains hidden – untouched and safe deep within the island."

"Sorry for putting that burden to your parents."

"I'm sure they don't mind. It wasn't much of an inconvenience for them as you might think. They don't seem to be bothered by anything, really."

"So you think they don't mind sending you here when they know how unstable the situation is and that you could be targeted for knowing where that thing is hidden?"

"I appreciate your concern, but I'm not a youngling anymore uncle."

Rhysand winced at the title and she stifled a laugh at his reaction. It wasn't really his fault for not expecting her to be the one sent as Cretea's emissary.

"Besides," she continued. "I think they're more than willing to have me out of the palace for once. Honestly, it is a mystery how I haven't had any other sibling yet."

The High Lord burst out into laughter and she had to physically stop him to avoid more attention from around them.

"You know," he said in between breaths "I'd actually think that they had put that spell around the island for that sole purpose."

They passed along the street where the sweet shop she bought chocolates from before stood and was tempted to run straight to it. She already feels the weight of the meal she had settle down her stomach.

There's always room for a desert.

Later, she thought. She'd come back later.

She was busy contemplating what to buy that she forgot about what Rhys said.

"Oh that. That may have been because of me actually."

"What do you mean?"

"Three centuries ago, I wandered off the border and got caught in an accident that almost killed me."

All the amusement vanished from the high lord's face instantly. He turned towards her expecting more from her story.

"They had to set up the shield after that." She gave him a wide-toothed smile. "They had no idea that it would be so effective to even deter good-willing people; gave you a hard time calling out for us."

It was an effort to shrug it off like it didn't matter a bit – like it still doesn't affect her to this day. Rhysand, sensing her unease about the topic, was quiet for a moment. He just nodded in understanding and continued walking in silence until they reached the front porch of the town house.

"Don't go telling me now that I don't have to go," she demanded as he turned to face her. "I know the risks. You saved my mother back then, let me return the favour."

"That debt has already been paid. I don't want to endanger the daughter that my friends have done so much to keep safe."

She can see it in his eyes, the desire to protect people. She heard the story of what he did to spare his family from the clutches of Amarantha and of how he died to let them live. He's the kind of person who would rather lay down his life than let those close to him get hurt. It warmed her heart that that devotion extended to her even if they haven't been that close.

"You'd make a really good father."

That took him by surprise. His serious demeanor was gone in an instant and she coughed to cover the laugh rising up her throat. It was a priceless reaction he'd made but she was not going to tease him for that.

"I'll be fine," she insisted as Rhys blinked away any lingering surprise on his face. "I've got one of your famed Illyrian warriors on my side. We're going to be a force to reckon with."

She wiggled her eyebrows at him and a warm hearted smile was the only indication that she was able to sway him.

[featherymalignancy]

"Kick his ass for me" elriel (not au, if you don't mind 😺)

Based on the Five Word Prompts. See the full list here, and Feel Free to send me more!

“Kick His Ass for Me”–Elriel.

Sorry this is so long I don’t have it in me to write less than 3,000 words, apparently.

Elain gave a contented hum, letting her eyes drift closed as Azriel ran a knuckle up and down her bare back. She could hear his heart beating, proud and strong, in her ear as she lay on his smooth chest.

“I could stay here forever,” she purred, lifting her head to kiss him. It was slow and sensual, and he groaned when she parted her lips to let her tongue dance with his.

She could feel the cold press on his new wedding band as he threaded a hand around the back of her neck, and it made her heart jump even now, six weeks after she’d first slipped it onto his finger.

“So could I,” he said, nipping at her jaw. “But we have to go.”

In lieu of responding, she rolled onto her back and gazed up at him through half-lidded eyes. It was a deliberate maneuver, and one that Azriel didn’t fail to take note of. It was one of the many things she loved about him; nothing every escaped his notice.

Accepting her silent invitation, he slipped a hand to the small of her back to lift her chest even further before lowering his mouth and grazing one of her nipples with his pearly teeth.

“You destroy me,” he breathed, biting down gently. She mewed, writhing against his wicked mouth as she reached for his left wing. However, he pulled it tighter against his back, out of her reach. “But we have to go,” he finished, sitting back onto his heels. “We’re forty-five minutes late already.“

“So?” she said, drinking in the sight of him, knees splayed and cock on fully view. She didn’t care that he’d been inside her only minutes ago; she wanted him again. Wanted him in a way she hadn’t known existed until he’d shown her. Physical intimacy had always scared Elain, but Azriel had never made her feel anything but safe, and her sexuality had bloomed under his careful touch. Now she was like a woman possessed. She reached forward to grab him between his legs, but he intercepted her hand, circling her wrist.

“So,” he repeated. “That’s forty-five minutes Cassian’s had to dream up sexual jokes to make at our expense.”

At this Elain did sit up, frowning as she blushed. Azriel smiled, brushing a thumb down her cheek.

“I love that I can still find the words to make you blush, m’Elanedd. It’s so charming on you.”

He leaned forward to kiss her again, but it was gentle, chaste.

“I doubt you’ll find it charming when it’s the result of one of Cassian’s innuendos. They’ve gotten worse since the wedding. Or better, I suppose, depending on how you think about it.”

He gave a soft snort of amusement, kissing her nose.

“Get dressed. We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”

Usually Elain liked to take her time getting dressed, finding the ritual of it relaxing, but today she got into her gown in record time, not bothering to do anything with her hair but run a hand through it?”

“How do I look?” she asked, smoothing a hand down the supple silk of her lavender gown.

Azriel surveyed her.

“Gorgeous,” he said finally, eyes bleeding back to her face. “As always. You should be more careful in your appearance though, m’Elanedd. You are so beautiful I’m sometimes afraid the sun will grow jealous and refuse to rise.”

“Don’t be obsequious,” she warned, playfully pushing his shoulder.

He grabbed her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“A husband’s privilege.”

She turned to press both hands to his chest, tipping her head back to gaze into his eyes.

"Те сакам,” she murmured in Illyrian, and he smiled eyes dancing with a newfound joy.

“I love you, too,” he breathed, kissing her softly.

Not bothering to break the kiss, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the balcony off their bedroom. Their palatial townhouse overlooked the Sidra, which glittered in the mid-summer twilight.

Elain rested her head in the crook of his neck as he unfurled his wings and took to the sky in a single, elegant motion. It was a short flight to the House of Wind, and he was setting her down on the marble promenade no more than five minutes later. As if on cue, Cassian emerged, grinning like a wolf.

“Well, well,” he said. “Lovely of you to finally join us.”

“Fuck off,” Azriel said, voice light as cuffed his brother affectionately on the shoulder.

Cassian’s grin widened as he turned to Elain.

“That’s a beautiful dress, Ellie. Is it new?”

Elain knew it was probably a trap, but in the absence of a clever retort, she merely said, “No, why do you ask?”

Cassian’s smile grew wicked.

“Well I just figured, after the number Az did on your poor wedding gown, the rest of your clothes might have befallen a similar fate on your honeymoon.”

Elain rounded on Nesta, who’d just appeared on the balcony.

“You told him about that?” she snarled, going scarlet.

Nesta had the decency to look sheepish.

“I—“ she began, giving her mate a look that promised violence. “It slipped out. And you weren’t supposed to say anything!” she snarled quietly at Cassian, which had Elain pursing her lips.

“It slipped out, did it?”

Cassian raised his eyebrows is smug self-satisfaction, looping an arm around Nesta’s slim waist.

“Mates don’t keep secrets from each other,” he said, turning to glance down at Nesta. Despite his teasing, Elain could see something reverential soften his gaze as he look at her sister. “Isn’t that right, My Love?”

“It’s no secret I’m going to knee you in the balls if you can’t learn to keep your mouth shut,” Nesta growled, wrestling away for him.

“I love you too, Darling,” he called as she flipped him a foul hand gesture and stalked back into the formal dining room.

“Oh, let poor Elain be,” Mor said, resting her head on Elaria’s shoulder. Her hair was an enchanting lily white, Elain watched as Mor tucked it behind her fae-tipped ear with heart-breaking gentleness before smiling at her mate. “They’re in love.”

By this time, Azriel had reappeared, offering Elain a glass of wine as he strung an arm around her waist.

“Don’t worry,” Cassian told Elain with a wicked grin. “Thanks to your tardiness, I have plenty more ammunition.”

With that, he sauntered off to find Nesta again.

“I told you,” Azriel said in her ear, kissing her temple.  She could feel him smiling against her skin.

“I don’t regret it,” she said, meeting his eye. “Fucking you will always be worth a little of Cassian’s nonsense.”

Azriel’s gaze heated, and he disguised a sensuous nip to her fae-tipped ear as another chaste kiss.

“Cauldron,” he breathed. “I will never get tired of you saying things like that.”

She smirked, raising her eyebrows.

“If you thought that was good, wait until you hear what I have planned for when we get home.”

Leaning up, she whispered a promise in his ear so filthy she made even herself blush, and Azriel’s laughed, the sound low and throaty.

“I can’t wait,” he said, and she gave him a sweet smile, bleeding from his side to embrace Mor and Elaria, who’d just returned from a visit to the Winter Court to see Elaria’s sisters.

They enjoyed several drinks on the balcony as the sun set, then retreated inside to have a dinner that spoke very much to Rhys’s extravagant tastes. Elain watched Cassian throughout the meal, knowing it was only a matter of time before he made good on his promise and let another bawdy joke fly.

However, his attention seemed to be more focused on Nesta, stealing green beans off her plate and sips out of her wine. Out of habit, Nesta was feigning annoyance at his teasing, but Elain noted the sparkle in her eyes as she chided her mate. It was brightness Elain had never seen before Nesta had met Cassian, and it warmed Elain’s heart.

By the time dinner had ended and they’d retreated to the den to have a final drink, Elain had nearly forgotten about the whole thing. Cassian had coaxed Nesta into his lap, and seemed content to sit and listen to Mor and Rhys discussing her visit to Winter as Nesta ran her long fingers through his unbound hair. In fact, it wasn’t until Nesta rose to fetch another bottle of wine that Cassian turned to Elain. However, she could tell by the gleam in his eye that her reprieve was about to come to an abrupt end.

“So when should we expect children?” he said. “Seems like you two have been practicing quite a lot.”

"Knock it off,” Azriel warned lazily, twirling a lock of Elain’s hair around a practiced finger.

Cassian only cocked his head, quirking a sinful eyebrow.

“Why brother, are those nail-marks on your wings? Elain, you wicked little thing! Don’t you know how sensitive Illyrian wings are? Gauging them like that, you must have had Az coming in his—“

Elain cut him off by tugging a pair of gloves Azriel had tucked into his belt and hurling one at Cassian. It hit him in the face, but he only laughed in response.

Cassian laughed, lobbing the glove back to her. “That didn’t even hurt.”

Elain only raised an eyebrow of her own.

“It wasn’t supposed to. What, don’t tell me you’ve never been challenged to a duel before.”

At this, Cassian howled.

“You want to fight me? Elain, my little fawn, don’t make me laugh.”

“Why?” she said, giving him a placid smile. “Are you afraid you’ll lose?”

Cassian laughed again, and Rhys interjected, “I hate to take Cassian’s side, Elain, but he’s right. It’s not a fight you’ll win.”

“Why not?” Elain queried mildly. “I know how to fight; Az has been training me.”

At this, she shared a smile with her new husband, and he gave her a reassuring wink.

“Az, you can’t be serious!” Mor said. “He’s at least two times her size!”

Azriel only shrugged, running a hand down Elain’s back.

“She can take him.”

Cassian bubbled his lips, and Azriel gave him a dark grin.

“Unless Elain’s right, and you’re afraid you’ll lose to a female.”

“Of course I’m not,” Cassian said. “But Nesta would murder me.”

“She’s not my keeper,” Elain said. “And if you won’t honor my challenge,” she gestured to the glove lying on the floor. “Then I win by forfeit, and you are never allowed to make another comment about our private life ever again.”

“Rhys!” Cassian whined, feeling the magic of a bargain stirring in the air. “You can seriously be condoning this!”

Rhys laughed, rubbing his jaw.

“I’m curious to see how this plays out,” he admitted. “And if Azriel’s is fine with it, then it means he knows something we don’t. Besides, let it never said that we don’t honor bargains in the Night Court.”

Cassian groaned, and this time Mor laughed.

“You’ve really done it now, Jackass.”

Cassian assessed first Azriel then Elain, scowling. Elain could see his Illyrian instincts urging him to meet the challenge, and his chivalry telling him he shouldn’t.

Elain shrugged.

“Well that was easy,” she said, twining her hands in Azriel’s hair to give him wanton kiss she knew was driving Cassian’s joking nature crazy.

“Fine!” he said. “Let’s do it.”

“What are we doing?” Nesta said, coming back into the room with Feyre.

“Elain challenged Cassian to a duel,” Mor said. “And he’s just accepted!”

“He did what?” Nesta snarled, and Cassian gave her a placatory gesture.

“I have to!” he said. “My honor’s at stake!”

“Absolutely not,” Nesta said, but Elain was already rising to her feet. 

“I’m going to find some leathers. See you in ten minutes.”

She emerged into the arena a short while later, ignoring Nesta and Feyre’s continued protestations. Smirking at Cassian—who’d shed both his fighting leathers and his siphons—as she extended a wordless hand to Azriel. He deftly unsheathed Truth-teller, flipping the blade in his hand and offering it to her hilt first. She took it before then accepting a second knife from him, a diamond-bladed, pearl-handled hunting knife that was Truth-teller’s twin. Light-Bearer, she’d named it when he’d gifted it to her on their wedding night.

Cassian watched her twirl the two blades, but eventually opted not to bring a weapon into the ring with him.

“To first touch,” he said, casting a nervous glance in Nesta’s direction, where she was still storming. It gave Elain a petty satisfaction to know that all his sexual jokes were likely going to end with him enduring a long sexual draught of his own.

“Boring,” she goaded. “But okay.”

“Know that if I win,” Cassian said, flexing his wings. “The jokes are going to get a lot worse.”

Elain felt a twinge of unease at this prospect, but she merely turned to Azriel. He smoothed her braid between in middle and index fingers, eyes twinkling.

“Kick his ass for me,” he breathed, and she smiled.

“On your marks then,” Rhys began. “Three, two—“

Elain took a deep breath and closed her eyes, focusing her mental energy as Rhys called one, and Cassian exploded, moving almost faster than she could see. Or at least faster than her eyes could see. Unfortunately for Cassian, it wasn’t her traditional sight she was relying on.

She let her hold on her power loosen and focused it on Cassian, and in a flash of understanding, she could see every move he was going to make in the entire fight.

She easily dodged his blows, simply dancing around the places she’d already seen he’d be. He was impossibly nimble for a warrior of his size, but Azriel had honed her fae speed, and with the foresight, she managed to outmaneuver the Lord Commander.

“Shit,” Rhys laughed, watching as Elain dodged another blow, carefully herding Cassian into a corner without him fully realizing it. “How is it even possible that she’s keeping up with him? She’s only been fighting for two years.”

“It’s almost as if she can see his moves before he makes them,” Azriel said sardonically, eyes gleaming with delight.

“No,” Feyre breathed, stunned “She can focus her visions like that?”

Azriel only smirked.

“I told you she could take him.”

“Nesta,” Cassian said, dodging a swipe from Truth-teller. “Throw me a sword!”

“Absolutely not,” Nesta deadpanned, though the anger had bled from her voice, and Elain could tell, even without looking at her, that she was amused.

“This little witch is going to unman me with those fucking things!” he said, half-laughing and half-pleading as Elain swung Truth-teller at him and missed. “I know you don’t want me to lose your favorite part.”

Elain laughed before almost catching a fist to the gut, and she refocused, seeing Cassian flip over to try and grab her from behind a fraction of a second before he tried it. She arced Light-Bearer up in an elegant slash just as he was mid-flip, slicing the strand of hair that had come loose from the leather thong Cassian had tied it back with. It hit the ground as he landed, and Elain whirled, Truth-teller aimed at his throat and Light-Bearer at his belly. Rhys and Mor roared with laughter as Feyre cheered.

Cassian laughed too as he raised his arms in surrender, and when she lowered the blades, he beamed.

“That was brilliant,” he said, before seeming to realize what the fight had just cost him. “But since you’ve already beaten me, maybe you can take mercy on me and let me make just one more—“

“Never,” Elain said, admiring the inky blue whorls of flowering vine that their bargain had produced. She held it up for Cassian to see. “We agreed, remember?”

Cassian grumbled good-naturedly, and Azriel cleared the ring in a smooth leap, coming to sweep Elain into his arms.

“That was inspired,” he breathed in her ear. And seeing that the others were suitably distracted, he added, “And you have no idea what watching you fight like that does to me.”

Taking her hand, he guided it down until she was cupping him. He was hard as granite against her palm, and Elain felt heat pulse in her belly. She needed him. Now.

“We’re going home,” she announced to the others, not taking her eyes off Azriel’s face. “We need to be alone.”

Cassian opened his mouth to make a lewd retort before scowling and retreating to Nesta to sulk.

“You’re an idiot,” Elain heard Nesta murmur in her mate’s ear as she kissed his cheek. “And I’m glad you weren’t castrated.”

“Don’t come by the house for a few days,” Azriel added to Cassian’s broad back. “We’re going to be very busy.”

Cassian growled his annoyance and Elain grinned at her husband.

"Nothing to add, Cas?” she asked mildly.

“You two deserve each other,” he grumbled, letting Nesta run a hand through his hair. “You’re both evil.”

Elain smirked.

“Maybe someday you’ll learn to control that fat mouth, and I won’t have to embarrass you in front of your wife.”

“Be gone, witch!” he laughed, and not bothering with any further goodbyes, Elain strung her arms around Azriel’s neck as he took flight.

In the end, they didn’t wait to get home to celebrate Elain’s victory, and as Elain’s watched Azriel’s wings flexing to keep them aloft as he pounded into her in the skies above Velaris she thought she just might tell Nesta about this, too. After all, what was Cassian going to say about it?

#answered #fivewordprompts #ask me more!

[aelin-and-feyre]

Circumstance (Part 15)

The last chapter of Circumstance is now finished and posted. There will be an epilogue sometime soon! Thank you to everyone who has read this and stuck with it and loved it just as much as I did, I made me so happy. I hope you enjoy this last part just as much.

Warning: There is slight ToD spoilers in this chapter, sorry

Tagging: @aelinxfeyre @vilya1 @a-courtof-fangirls-and-fanfics@autumn03@rhysandpurred @crazybookladythings @devilsadvocate15@marimarac @carolineherr15@musiccbeach @illyrian-wingspans @illyrianinterrasen@meowsekai@iwishitwasrocketscience @gavrielthelionn @bbyshadowbat @bluephoenix222@daughterxofxnight@highladyofthedark@sugarcoated44 @fandoms-things-stuff@helloprinceling @wolffrising @the-court-of-terrasen@gcarroll@throne–of-sass @rowanismybae @peachyyymeg (thank you to you wonderful people, I’m so glad you liked my fic enough to want to be annoyed by notifications every time I posted)

Fic Masterlist

Five Months Later

Cadewyn wakes wrapped in his mate’s scent. It is the same aroma he’d been enveloped in for the past five months, and the same one he’d fallen into a utterly peaceful sleep to last night, but now, with the scent clouding his mind and making a unsolicited smile brighten his sleepy face, Cade thinks the same thought he has every morning since he met her: that there is never a time in his life that he doesn’t want to wake up similarly cocooned. The sun filters in through the canvas walls of the tent and warms his face, awakening each of his limbs slowly. Delicate strands of golden hair tickle his nose, belonging to the female curled in his arms. Sounds of the camp awakening around them drift through the thin fabric of their structure, but Cade shuts it out for a few minutes more, enjoying the feeling of peace, even though he know it won’t last.

There is a battle today. They are scheduled to attack the enemy forces at high noon, when Aelin and Ember’s power will be the strongest. Cade’s arms tighten instinctively around his mate, nuzzling his nose further in her mess of hair, and thinking about what led them to this.

He hadn’t made it back to Velaris in time to follow his aunt’s silent instruction. His room had been found empty and cold, and it hadn’t taken long for Azriel’s shadows to track him to Terrasen. Ember had found his parents and their Inner Circle in the dining room waiting for them, but it wasn’t the ambush she was expecting.

Instead, the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court and the King and Queen of Terrasen had decided that they were going to war one last time. They were going to help their children secure happiness together, just as they fought for the same thing a quarter century ago. Brexton and Gusty, it turned out, had been the ones to step forward and convince their elders. Cade will forever be grateful to them.

Now, five months into strategy, planning, and brief battles, they are about to embark on the first combat strike that Ember will be unleashing her full power on, and will dictate who the winner of this war will be. Cade completely believes in her – with every particle of his body he knows that she will do amazingly, and that her ingenious plan will work, but he can’t help but feel nervous.

Emberlei shifts a little in his arms, groaning softly at the increasing noise outside their tent and the inevitability of having to awaken. Cadewyn runs a soothing hand down her flannel-clad back, letting his fingers graze her bottom. Ember attempts to bury her head even further into his chest, scrunching her eyes tight as she tries to cling to sleep. “Good morning, Kindling, are you ready to start a fire?”

His mate sighs reluctantly, pressing a kiss to the skin above his heart. “Remind me why we’re doing this again?” She grumbles tiredly.

A rumble of laughter escapes Cadewyn. “Because you love me and you never want to be parted from me?” He responds, half monitoring the rustling sounds of mounting armor and sheathing swords outside. They don’t have much time left to laze about.

“Oh, that’s right,” Ember replies with a soft smile. Her face tilts up so her sleep-ridden, gorgeous turquoise eyes stare into his, half a dozen emotions swirling between them. She shifts up a couple inches to press a lingering kiss to his lips. Cade’s eyes slip closed at what could be their last embrace like this. The princess senses his thoughts as she pulls away, her fingers threading with his. “Are you afraid?”

“Yes,” Cade answers honestly, even though there isn’t anything to really be scared of. Sure, they are facing five different power nations from across the world who have teamed up against them. Yeah, they are only twenty years old and have only just found each other. And of course, Cade isn’t sure what he would do if he lost her. But it is irrational to be afraid, to be anything other than swift and sure with each maneuver they make from this moment until the end of the battle that’s about to begin. “Are you afraid?” He asks, one eyebrow quirking up in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“No,” she says the word so easily, that he almost believes her. With a defeated sigh, Ember rests her brow against his own. “I am Emberlei Whitethorn Galathyius and I shouldn’t be afraid – but I am.”

Her fingers grapple for him, pulling his body tightly against her as she tucks her head under his chin, as if she never wants to leave his embrace. Cade holds her tightly, savoring this moment, committing it all to memory, as he has with everything the past five months – war-ridden months, but the happiest of his life. “I wish we’d had more time.” Cade murmurs into the crown of her head. He feels a slight wetness leak onto the exposed skin of his chest, Ember pressing her lips against his collarbone as she tries to regain her composure. “But I suppose if this was all the Cauldron blessed me with, I will live and die happily knowing that I got to know you, my mate – my own Fireheart.” His use of the name he heard Rowan calling Aelin last month seems to set Ember straight.  

The princess in his arms readjusts so she’s looking into his eyes. “I love you,” she whispers in the growing light of morning. Already, flames dance in her eyes as the power she has been spiraling into the last week is now just hovering under the surface. They hadn’t been able to do anything last night in fear of incinerating the entire camp. “Together?”

“Until my last breath,” his words are the sincerest he has ever uttered in his life. He would follow her to the ends of the earth – where no one knows of the Queen Who Was Promised, or Feyre Cursebreaker. Where there is no whisper of the treaty or the ‘Cursed Mating’ as their enemies have taken to calling them – calling what they had sealed between them just a week ago, claiming each other in a way no one can dispute. A final decision that they made together, and accept the consequences of to whatever end. “And whatever is beyond. We face this together. No matter the circumstance.”

...

“The plan is simple,” Cassian and Aedion stand before the gathering of friends and family, who have come together to fight this one last war, and show the world once and for all that they are not powers to be messed with. “Lysandra and I lead the Bane in the east,” as he speaks, Aedion points to the map spread before them, where they have plotted the territory and their plan of attack – or non-attack. “Dorian and Manon with their legion spread next to us.”

Ember turns in time to see Manon’s iron teeth slip out as she grins, Dorian’s hands flexing as he, too, readies his magic. She can’t believe they are here. The Queen of the Wastes meet’s Ember’s eye and winks. Ember supposes that Manon might just be hungry for bloodshed after so many years of peace and that is why she agreed to this.

“Azriel and I direct the Illyrians opposite them,” Cassian interrupts, nodding to his brother who scans the map with warrior’s intensity. “Helion and Lucien beside us.” Ember finds the High Lord of Day’s already watching her from across the room and she once again nods her head in thanks for joining their cause. Helion’s eyes twinkle and he smiles warmly back. She doesn’t think it’s thirst for blood that fuel’s his reason for being here, but rather love for Cade and his family, and the want for adventure. She is grateful for his help no matter the reason.

Aedion nudges Cassian aside a bit with a joking nudge to point to the center top of the hill they have picked to attack from. Her uncle looks up at her, eyes softening as he says, “Ember and Cade will be positioned here, Aelin, Rowan, Rhysand, and Feyre flanking them.” Cade’s hand squeezes Ember’s comfortingly next to her. She caresses the newly minted bond between them.  “The cadre will be interspersed through the ranks from there.”

Cassian nods his approval, the general and commander working in tandem with each other, almost fluidly after five months of strategizing. “If all goes well, not a single life has to be taken, and no one but Ember and Cade need to use an ounce of power.” He gives the two un-Settled Fae a roguish grin. “And if it doesn’t go as planned, well then the real fun can begin.”

Aedion shoots Cassian a disapproving stare, before shaking his head with a quiet chuckle when the Commander’s grin doesn’t falter. “We have five layers of attack after that, but we really shouldn’t have to go past Aelin and Rhys.” This time, it’s the Queen and High Lord who send each other sly looks. Ember has never been afraid of her mother, but it’s hard not to be a bit frightened when the Fire Breather and Darkness Bringer train together.

“And where am I in those five layers of attack?” The attention of the room turns to her little sister standing with her arms crossed and staring at the map with almost as much intensity as the shadowsinger. Brexton and his mate – a girl Ember has befriended the past few months – stand behind her, probably also wondering the same question.

Before any of the adults can shoot her question down and tell her she has to stay back at camp, Ember speaks up. “Gusty, Brexton, and Magdalene will be on the hill with me and Cade.”

Everyone now turns to her, and she can see their objections about to rise, but Cade beats them to it. “I agree, it will make me feel better to have them up their with us in case anything goes wrong.” He winks at the younger princess, sliding his arm around Ember’s waist and pulling her closer to him, as if he can’t bear to be more than a couple inches from her. Not that she is any better. Since they got out of bed this morning she hasn’t been able to part from him for long.

A couple of the adults grumble a bit but none of them contradict. “Finally,” Cassian calls the attention back to him. “Yrene will stand with Ember and be there to heal the main players if the shields fail.” The healer bows her head in acquiescence.

“Battlefield healing only, Yrene,” Chaol reminds from beside her, his cane next to him but remaining unused for now.

Aedion claps his hands and draws the Sword of Orynth. “We go to war.” He states plainly, meeting each person’s eye in the tent and then nodding to be dismissed.

Everyone begins to pick up their weapons from where they were discarded leaning against the walls, but Ember remains motionless beside Cade, watching the people around her who have agreed to fight with her – with them.

Aedion shakes Cassian’s hand, the two males nodding in respect for the other. “It has been an honor to serve at your side,” the general says.

“Same, brother, I would do it again in a heartbeat,” Aedion’s chest swells with pride at Cassian’s words, and they part ways to their wives.

Chaol takes Yrene’s slightly wrinkling hands in his own and kisses them tenderly, then walks out with her elbow through his, the cane dangling beside him. Manon runs a hand through Dorian’s greying hair and they share a smirk before also departing. Cassian kisses Nesta fiercely then smiles through her scolding and promises to come back to her. The female then takes Magdalene and Brexton in a tight embrace and tells them to be careful. Cassian slings his arms around Azriel’s shoulders and says some joke that makes the shadowsinger sigh in resignation as they exit the tent.

Elain and Lucien share a sweet moment, the former tucking a tulip in her mate’s lapel and telling him she expects it back safe and sound. Helion claps Lucien on the back and father and son head west together. Gavriel goes up to Aedion just as he and Lysandra part. The general hugs his father and they share a short but meaningful conversation before the shapeshifter pulls her husband towards the east. The rest of the cadre – Lorcan excluded as he and Elide stay in Terrasen – salute to Aelin and Rowan, then shift to bound to their respective positions.

With Amren and Mor watching over Velaris, only the people going up to the hill remain in the tent. Ember meets the eyes of Brex and Magdalene, then the High Lord and Lady, then her sister, her parents, and finally her mate. She holds Cade’s gaze for a few moments, and takes a deep breath. “To war.”

...

Cadewyn stands beside Ember atop the huge hill on one side of their chosen battlefield. Their enemy is powerful, diverse, and prepared. They have had 15 years to anticipate this attack, to plan for their defense and offense. Although Cade isn’t sure they were expecting this sort of turn out. Five enemy countries against the four most powerful full-grown Fae and their kin, along with a horde of Illyrians, a host of witches, and the armies of three different territories.

All Cade and Ember have to do is create a spectacle and not one life will be taken, not one ounce of blood drawn. The witch queen may yet be disappointed by the outcome.

With the sun beating down from directly above them, it’s time. “Whatever the challenge,” Cade whispers to his mate.

“No matter the circumstance,” Ember responds just as softly.

“We do this together.”

The future High Lord of Night and the Crown Princess of Terrasen take each others hands, staring deeply in the other’s eyes – the eyes that have kept them up for the past decade and a half, the eyes they fell in love with before ever knowing the person they belonged to – and let go of their power.

Oh, and what a spectacle it is.

Flames and wind and sun and shadows and water and ice, enough power to envelop the world and then some erupt from them. It spouts into the sky and depicts images of love and peace and well being. Both sides of the battlefield are silent as they watch in awe as the two powers perfectly entwine to portray how the two young Fae wielding it are not to be feared, but welcomed. To show that instead of destruction and invasion, they are the symbol of utmost prosperity and advancement. At least, that’s what Ember is counting on.

The power roils and twists and shifts above their heads before exploding into an array of colors and sparks and water and flowers. A cool breeze, courtesy of the young princess behind them, extinguishes the sparks and carries the flowers to enemy territory, where they fall gracefully across the standing army that is frozen with shock.

Ember breathes heavily across from Cade, her eyelids drooping as exhaustion takes over. Both of their powers are utterly spent, and if even an ember more was taken, she might be on the verge of a burn out. Cadewyn catches his princess before she hits the ground, and Gusty and Yrene are there immediately on the other side. They all kneel in the grass atop that hill together, Ember barely conscious, and watch to see what will happen next. Aelin has sparks flying off her fingers already in anticipation.

Just as they see a horse galloping through and breaking the enemy formation, Ember collapses into Cade’s arms.

...

Crown Princess Emberlei Whitethorn Galathynius of Terrasen wakes up to a dozen featherlight kisses being trailed up her body. Every single one of her limbs ache, including her head which is pounding constantly as it tries to focus on anything other than the feeling of the pecks lighting her skin on fire.

She distantly realizes that a body is hovering above her, hands braced on either side of her head as she groans and opens her eyes. Ember immediately closes them again against the blinding light coming from some infernal place she doesn’t care enough to pinpoint. A deep chuckle sounds from above her and she instantly knows that it’s Cade.

“Turn off your sun please,” she grumbles, squeezing her eyes shut. Cadewyn laughs again and the light shining behind her eyelids does indeed dim. Ember cracks open her eyes and sees her mate over her, his skin lit to a small glow as he smiles down at her. Suddenly, she remembers what happened. Sitting up abruptly, Ember knocks her forehead against Cade’s and they both yelp, the latter rolling off her so she can rise, unobstructed. “What happened?” She asks urgently, now leaning over him on their bed in the war tent. She’d probably been out for a few hours.

The future High Lord of the Night Court smiles widely, grasps her face between his palms, and kisses her soundly. “It worked, Kindling,” he murmurs against her lips. “They believe us.”

Ember parts from him and stares down, wide eyed. “Are you serious?” Cadewyn just nods, trying to pull her down to kiss him again. She pulls out of his reach, sitting cross-legged on the bedspread. “Tell me everything.”

Her lover sighs but his skin does not dim as he sits across from her and begins to explain what happened after she fainted. “A representative from one of the territories charged up the hill, our parents were ready to shoot him down but he was holding a white flag. He explained that his leader was moved to tears by our presentation, and rescinded their declaration of war and shredded their copy of the treaty. Four more emissaries from the others came shortly after, telling of things along the same lines.” Cade grabs her fingers, tears shining in his eyes. “Not one leader continued to fight. Not one.”

Ember’s heart feels like it’s about to explode. Even though she aches all over, she finds enough strength to pounce on her mate and tackle him into the pillows. He catches her with another laugh and accepts the kisses she starts peppering over his face.

“We can be together?” She asks, almost like she can’t believe it.

Cade nods, dragging his fingers through her hair while staring into her turquoise and gold eyes – the depthless orbs that started everything. “I think it’s time you finish ‘Violet Eyes’.”

Ember sits up, straddling his waist as she considers his words. “I think you’re right. Although I’m gonna have to change the name.”

Cadewyn traces his fingers over her sides, thighs, and arms thoughtfully, no longer intent on memorizing each part of her, rather content to take all the time he wants. “Hm? And what would the new title be?”

“Well, you know what truly occurred to me when our power was in the air?” Cade lifts an eyebrow. “None of this would have happened if I hadn’t come with my parents that day to the Leader Meeting. I never would have met you, we would have never switched places, and I would never have even written the song. It was all a trick of fate.”

“An aligning of crazy circumstances.” Cade muses.

Ember leans down to kiss him once more, letting herself enjoy the moment, the time they now have together – centuries of time. “I like that... ‘Circumstance’.”

A/N I know its such a cheesy and weird ending but I love it so whatever.

Masterlist

[a-court-of-illyrian-warriors]

The Fox and the Doe

In which Elain wants her mate to come visit. Written for my absolutely wonderful friend @my-boyo-fenrys. (Sorry it took so long! Lucien is a bit hard for me to write (even though he’s only in like half of it shhh))

if you want to request a story, I have a post for that, or just drop it in my asks or messages!

Word count: 2499

“Feyre,” Elain started, sitting down in the townhouse’s eat-in kitchen next to her younger sister.

“Yes, Elain?” The youngest Archeron responds, shoveling a fork full of eggs into her mouth. Azriel, the best chef of them all, sat down a plate of eggs and fruit in front of Elain, giving her a gentle smile. The brown-eyed girl offered a smile in return and a quiet thank you before turning back to her sister.

“I want Lucien to visit,” she states, confidence lining her voice. This was something she thought of everyday since her mate left to help Tamlin in the Spring Court. Feyre stopped, her fork half way to her mouth. Azriel fumbled, a few bits of scrambled egg dropping from the pan that almost clattered to the floor. 

The High Lady recovered quickly, “okay,” she replied before continuing with her breakfast. Elain stabbed a strawberry, popping it into her mouth. 

“If you want,” Rhysand said, entering the room, “you can write him a letter telling him that yourself. We can send it off today.” He plopped down next to his wife, his hand resting on her thigh. 

Suddenly Elain became shy. She wanted to see her mate, but had not thought of what they would do or what she would say once he arrived. “Can I just have Feyre write it?” She questioned, her fork snapping against the plate as a blueberry escaped the tines. 

Her sister gave her a questioning look, but complied anyways. Swallowing the last bite of her breakfast she said, “I’ll go write it now.“ 

Elain could hear bickering over the scrape of Rhys’s spoon on his ceramic oatmeal bowl. It really bothered her but she was too polite to ask him to try to avoid that horrid sound. Nesta came stomping down the stairs, already in a miserable mood, most likely thanks to the winged male trailing after her. 

"Come on, Nes. Just train with me once. It’ll be fun I promise,” Cassian drawled, smirking.

“No.” The eldest Archeron replied, grabbing an apple and heading to the sitting room. 

Cassian huffed, squeezing himself into the small seat between Elain and the High Lord, his giant wings spread out behind him. Even relaxed his wings stretched out to the side of Elain farthest from the commander. Azriel had once told her a secret she had to promise to keep. The commander’s wings were actually the smallest of the three Illyrians’. Once as young men, brimming with pride and narcissim, they had all compared wing spans. The Shadowsinger had them beat by a full inch, Cassian’s were just a quarter shorter than Rhys’s. They all agreed to never speak of it again, for Cassian’s sake. 

Elain munched on her fruit, only half paying attention to the Commander’s idle conversation with his brothers. She finished her fruit and a few bites of egg in silence, not really having anything of worth to add to the conversation, despite Azriel’s futile attempts to include her. 

She washed her plate and drained her glass before going to find her sister. “How’s the letter?” Elain asked, finding Feyre with papers in hand. 

“Oh, I sent that ten minutes ago. This is work,” she said, ruffling the papers in her hands. Even after the war the High Lord and Lady are swamped in work, possibly more than before. Elain thought they would have nothing to do.  "If he’s not that busy you can expect a reply in an hour or two.“

"But– how can the letters deliver so quickly? The spring court is so far away.” Elain asked, confusion crossing her delicate features. 

“Ah, there’s magic paper here. I just write my letter and off it goes, right into Lucien’s lap.”

“Oh. Can I go out to the garden?”

“Of course. You might want to change first, that’s a nice dress.” Feyre answered, barely taking her eyes off the papers. 

Elain left, going to her room. She put on a plain cream colored dress made of simple fabric. She quickly pulled her hair into a braid and fled to the garden. She could hear Nesta and Cassian’s bickering again– Feyre had said they were just teasing each other but to Elain it sounded a lot like fighting. 

She grabbed her gloves and wide brimmed hat from the bench by the garden entrance. Entering the garden, she placed her hands on her hips and sighed. Her garden quickly grew out of control over the short time they were away for the war. Even though she had been working like crazy there was still a lot to do. 

She started by weeding the beds of her evening primroses. They were her favorite flower native to the Night Court, they only bloomed at night. She got lost between the soil and stems, the next hour passing as quick as a minute. Elain barely accomplished anything, but Azriel was calling her in, telling her she would burn in the sun if she stayed much longer. Her forearms we’re already quite tan due to countless hours spent in her beloved garden, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. 

Not bothering to change, she nestled herself into a plush chair, Azriel in one next to her. “I’m so bored.” Elain sighed, throwing her feet over one arm rest. 

“Welcome to the immortal life,” the Shadowsinger replied. 

“Do you have any puzzles?” Elain inquired. 

“Puzzles?” Azriel quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t know about that. Let’s go check.” They looked in the downstairs closet. After much rummaging they found a lovely garden scene puzzle that Elain insisted on putting together. 

They set it out on the coffee table in the sitting room. Sitting side by side, Elain didn’t notice Azriel smirking as his shadows intensified. She only took notice as the Shadowsinger placed piece after piece of the puzzle together.

“How are you so good at puzz-,” she gasped. “No! You can’t use your shadows, Az!” The female exclaimed, hitting Azriel’s arm.

Sure enough the Shadowsinger’s shadows we’re sliding over the pieces, pointing out the correct ones. “Why not?” He countered.

“That’s cheating!” Elain explained. 

“I didn’t know there were rules to puzzles.” Azriel replied, smirking slightly.

“Elain!” A voice called, followed by quick footsteps down the stairs. “A letter! From Lucien,” Feyre exclaimed, holding a letter above her head as she entered the room.  

Elain jumped up, taking the letter from her sister and falling into a chair. She opened it up, her eyes hungrily eating up every curve of her mates small yet elegant penmanship. As if Lucien knew Elain was reading the letter, she felt a small tug near her lower rib, the bond. She smiled as she read the beautiful, flowing script.

“Dear High Lady, 

Of course I would love to visit Elain. I’ve been waiting for this letter since I left. I’ve got just a few things left to finish up before I can come back to the Night Court. Please tell Elain I am ever looking forward to visiting, or better yet let her read this letter. You can expect me on Monday, unless something comes up. I will keep you updated on any developments. 

Well wishes, Lucien”

The next week went agonizingly slow for Elain. She spent her time lounging around, in her garden, doing puzzles with Azriel when he wasn’t working, and anticipating her mates arrival.

Finally the day had arrived and Elain was bouncing off the walls. The night before Nesta had braided her sisters damp hair. Elain’s golden brown hair now flowed down her shoulders like the gentle fountains in the garden. She wore a pale orange dress made of gauzy material, one Feyre had found for her in Velaris. 

She was waiting in the sitting room, reviewing the things she planned to say and ask. But when there was a light knock on the door and Nesta opened it to reveal the red-haired beauty behind it, Elain’s mind went blank. Nesta glared as Lucien walked in, stopping as his eyes met Elain’s. The Seer stood, but did not move closer even though it felt like every bone in her body was screaming for him. Her mate. 

“Hello, Elain,” Lucien greeted, smiling. “You look absolutely lovely.”

Elain faintly felt the blush climb up her cheeks as she responded, “Thank you, Lucien. You look nice yourself.”

Lucien cherished the way his name sounded when she said it. He didn’t pay attention to Nesta’s death glares as he drank in the site of his mate. A month and a half was too long to stay at the Spring Court.

Elain noticed Nesta open her mouth, no doubtedly going to threaten Lucien. Not wanting a battle of wits to ensue, she beat her sister to it. “Lucien, would you like to see the garden?” She had been working tirelessly, and for as long as she could bear the heat, to tidy up the garden enough that it would be presentable to Lucien. She planned spending the majority of their time there, the hovering of her sisters could be suffocating. 

“Of course,” Lucien replied, holding out his arm for her to take. She slipped her hand into the crooked of his elbow and allowed him to escort her to the garden. Elain certainly did not miss the glare Nesta continued to bore into her mate’s back.

“Can you give me a tour?” The ginger asked as they entered the garden.

“Certainly,” the female replied, allowing herself to move slightly in front of him so she could guide him around. She watched in silence as he marvelled at the beds of flowers and murmuring fountains. She couldn’t help but stare as the sun filled his russet eye and made it seem like it was liquid fire. The sun reflected off his golden eye, his brutal, pale scar contrasting with his darker skin. She admired his scar, what it meant, the story behind it (which he had told her before the war) and how it added a sense of something she couldn’t describe to his elegant features. 

He noticed her staring, so she quickly looked away, hiding her blush as she pointed to the evening primroses. She started rattling off facts, like it’s scientific name, preferred climate, how much shade it likes, how she found it fascinating that it only bloomed at night.

She showed him a spot where she had planted some candytuft, a flower native to the Autumn Court. It wasn’t quite in bloom yet, but when it was it would spill over the short brick wall of the raised flower bed. They spent an hour at least roaming the small garden, Elain telling him every fact she knew about the plants, and Lucien hung on to every word that tumbled from his mates pretty lips. Eventually they found their way back to a small bench underneath a big shade tree when the sun started to rise higher in the sky. 

“What was your childhood like?” Elain asked, her hand still wrapped around his arm. 

“Nothing spectacular. My brothers and I were always fighting. My mother threw lots of balls and parties so I had plenty of etiquette classes.”

“Did you ever learn any instruments? Azriel is trying to teach me how to play the piano, but I fear it’s not going too well." 

"Really? I’m sure it just takes time. I can play the harp, my mother insisted I learn.”

Elain giggled, thinking of her fiery mate playing such a delicate instrument, but somehow it seemed fitting. “If I have Feyre find a harp, will you play for me?" 

"I’ll try. I’m not sure I’ll be much good after a hundred years,” Lucien looked down at her, smiling slightly and admiring the way her hair glimmered. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Elain spoke again, quietly.

“What’s the Spring Court like? I hear they have magnificent gardens, but I don’t want to ask Feyre about it, not after the time she spent there.”

“It’s astounding. The whole manor smells like roses. They have amazing rose tea, and rose cake. Roses are really their thing. They have other flowers too, I’m not familiar with their names though. There’s rolling green hills as far as you can see, some covered in vibrant forests. The next time I go, you’re welcome to come along if you wish. That is of course if it were okay with Feyre, I’d keep you far away from Tamlin.” Lucien couldn’t help but smile as he watched Elain’s eyes light up as he described the beauty of spring. He couldn’t help but soften his usually sharp personality around Elain. He wanted nothing more than to shower her with affection and treat her like pure gold. 

“That would be lovely. I’ve never had rose tea before,” she paused for a minute. “And what of the Autumn Court? Do you ever wish to return? It must be beautiful.”

“It is, it’s stunning. The leaves act like stained glass in the forest, and sunlight filters through them in golden rays. If I ever go, I’ll make sure to bring you, too.”

Elain laughed. “It sounds wonderful. It also sounds like we have a lot of traveling to do.”

“It does seem that way, doesn’t it? And maybe while we’re at it we can see the Day Court, Helion must have beautiful flowers. And the Dawn Court is filled with dripping wisteria. I think you would love it.”

Elain’s delicate pink lips formed into a small frown, an act Lucien hated. He never wanted to see her frown again.

“What about you the Winter Court, Lu? They mustn’t have any green things.” Lucien’s heart skipped a beat when he heard the new nickname Elain had found for him. Lu. He dearly hoped she would continue the use of that one.

“Don’t fret, darling. I’m sure there’s at least one flower that blooms in the snow. If it really matters, Morrigan could ask Vivianne for you. Or you could write them yourself.”

“Yes, I’d like to do that. And maybe we could visit and I could bring them a house plant." 

Lucien couldn’t help but stare as Elain’s slender fingers played with her bottom lip, before he left for the Continent, he noticed it was something she did when deep in thought. 

"I think they’d love that, dear. It’s getting rather hot, would you like to go inside?” Lucien stood, offering his had to his mate.

“Yes. And maybe we could get some lunch. I was too nervous to eat much this morning,” Elain blushed at her confession, but followed the red-head inside, her tiny hand slipped into his larger one. 

Elain wasn’t sure what was in her future, and she didn’t think she’d like to know, if she ever found out how to control her visions. She’d like to be surprised at all the things waiting for her and Lucien, her mate. She did know that she was glad he was back. And could not wait to spend her days with him.

[cleopatraas]

Illyrian female angst please?

Oh man, you don’t know what you just asked me to do. 

Amais slammed Cassian against the wall, pressing her hand over his mouth. She pressed against his body, trying to slow down her breathing. Torturously awkward seconds passed until...they heard it. 

Cassian pulled her hand off and he looked down at her. “Amais, no” The General Commander warned. 

“They know we’re here,” Amais whispered. She swallowed tightly, her purple siphons glowing against her tanned skin. Three tear drops. One on the center of her forehead, and the other two on her shoulders. 

She was the best. Cassian had let her down the moment he had agreed to follow her and scout out Hybern. He had been there before and it had gone horribly. He hated himself for flying with her and he hated, hated, what she was about to say. 

Because he knew her. And gods he wished he knew more about her. 

“Go,” Amais said, already shoving against his chest. “They don’t know we’re both here. And they won’t. You...you tell the others what we saw. You train them harder and faster. And...give Deirdre siphons. Gold ones, I think. Two. Put one of them on her back. She’d like that” 

“Amais-”

“Deirdre should take my place. Let them fight it out, but...bet on Deirdre for me?” Amais swallowed and she reached down, gripping Cassian’s hand. “You’re an amazing General Commander. Thank you, Cassian. Thank you for giving me a chance to be more. Which is why you are not staying here” 

Amais stepped away and Cassian tugged on her arm, glaring down at her. But it was no use. Cauldron, he hated she was right. If they left, the King would know who was here. Worse, he could send his multitude of monsters to follow them right back to the armies they were building. 

But if she stayed, made it look like she was the only one here, a captured spy, it could work. It would work. Amais watched as the thoughts went through Cassian’s hazel eyes and she smiled sadly. “I don’t doubt your Commander skills, Commander. But...they’re going to hate you. Deirdre, she’ll understand. Tell her...tell her to embrace herself” 

“Would you stop?” Cassian shook his head. Amais smiled and she grabbed his face, kissing his cheek gently. 

The smell was getting closer. Amais shoved against his chest. “Go, damn you. I’ll give you as much time as I can. Fly downwind. Stay high or low. Go!” Amais screamed, shoving his shoulder roughly. 

Cassian paused and he grabbed her face, kissing her. The kiss lasted five seconds and they both pulled away, blinking slowly. “You did say everyone wanted to be alpha female because of me,” Amais smiled, shaking her head. Brute. Cassian kissed her again then he nodded. “I hate this” 

“Whatever,” Amais shook her head and shoved him again. Her hand slowly slid out of his and Cassian grasped her shoulder, before rushing off. Amais heard the burst of his wings and then he was airborne. 

She touched her lips before pulling out her small daggers, holding them in her calloused hands. Her siphons glowed just as the King’s soldiers appeared. Amais snarled and she leapt into the air, knocking one aside. She kicked out her legs, twisting both of her blades into a gut. She yanked them out and sliced through the air. 

Blood splattered against her neck and three were already dead. A large purple blast of power knocked down the next three and Amais ran into the first level of the palace. Away from safety, away from Cassian, into the heart of danger. 

The closer she got to the King, the better. She hoped she died on the way. “Hey!” Amais ducked at the shout and she slid across the floor on her side as an arrow whizzed above her head. She hoped up and flipped he blades around her head, before fighting off the two guards. 

She winced as one of their blades nicked her side, but she jutted her legs out, tripping one up. Amais flung her dagger into his chest, and used the power of the siphon on her forehead and her remaining blade to take down the next two. 

The best, indeed. 

Amais sprinted through the hallways, not daring to fight any longer. She had to get as close to the throne room as possible. The farther she was inside of the palace, the more guards and monsters would chase her. 

And the longer Cassian would have. She ducked into a corridor, her side throbbing. Her long braid flew behind her and she pumped her arms by her side. She reached a dead end. She looked over the railing and sighed. 

“There!” Amais didn’t turn to see who had shouted. She jumped, her wings bursting free from her back. She landed on another level, rolling and her wings shot back into her back. One less vulnerability. 

Someone slammed into her and Amais groaned, her head knocking against the floor. She whimpered and kicked off her attacker, sliding her blade into its chest. Three long claw wounds ran down her thigh. They oozed black. 

“Gross,” She muttered, dragging herself across the floor. She cried out in pain as she stumbled to her feet and began to limp down a corridor. She braced her hand against the wall, and she heard her blood dripping behind her. 

Amais slid her daggers back into her thigh holsters and she pulled her sword off her back. She held it in her right hand, still limping. Her leg throbbed as she rounded the corridor and stopped short. 

She sucked in her breath when she saw the Cauldron. No. Amais turned around and she screamed as claws scratched across her chest. She fell down on her back, choking and wheezing. 

Gods, she hoped the ones she loved were never on the wrong side of those claws. “Interesting,” Amais closed her eyes, the King’s voice washing over her. She sobbed silently as two guards dragged her off the floor. 

Her blood had already pooled. Gods, she hoped she died. But the way the King was grinning, looking her over, she knew she wouldn’t. Amais slammed her elbows up, knocking the guards back. She picked her dagger up and aimed it at her throat, but the King held up his hand. 

Amais stopped and her hands shook, no longer her own. She stared at the King of Hybern, her eyes wide. He slowly walked towards her. A single tear ran down her cheek and she swallowed. The blade dropped to the ground. 

“You are a long way from home, Illyrian,” The King whispered. Another tear fell and his finger slowly touched her skin, wiping it away. “Do not cry. You’re not going to die today,” More tears fell, “I am need of a General, you see. Fae tend to underestimate females, but you - you are perfect” 

Amais blinked and she shook her head, but that only made the King grin wider. He grabbed her chin and looked into her eyes. He ran his thumb down the siphon on her forehead. “You will thank me later” 

Amais spat in his face. The King snarled and Amais grinned, even as he took her siphons off. She tried to fight as she was stripped of her weapons and fighting leathers. Amais nearly collapsed as the feeling slowly left her wounded leg. 

She had forgotten about that particular wound. The female was dragged over to the Cauldron and she screamed, snapping her teeth at the guards. The King smiled as she was lifted up and he stroked his chin for a moment. “Don’t worry, you’ll survive the Cauldron. Have no fear” 

Amais struggled one last time as she was lifted up. She gripped the edges of the Cauldron, tilting her head back. She closed her eyes and saw hazel eyes. Her lips tingled for just a moment and then she was being forced into the Cauldron, water filling every part of her. 

Her eyes flew open and she saw disfigured versions of the Kings and his guards. Then she opened her mouth, water rushing down her throat, and she screamed loud enough for all of Prythian to hear. 

[thespianbooks]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 3//

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4) (Chapter 5) (Chapter 6) (Chapter 7) (Chapter 8) (Chapter 9) (Chapter 10)

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @judexcardanxgreenbriar, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @emikadreams)

The following couple of days passed in a blur as I tried not to count down the hours leading up to Rhys’s return. After a week apart, the ache for my mate to come home was nearly stifling. I didn’t want to compare it to the near-month we had been separated before the war with Hybern; when I had acted as a double agent for my court, for my family, in order to save them. It was agonizing, my daemati abilities and magic being drained by the faebane slowly poisoning me; all while being unable to fully communicate with Rhys through our bond. Last night, our last apart, I had to remind myself that this was nothing like it; we were in the same court and he was due back in a few hours. Just as I was turning in for the night, I found a note on my dresser and nearly knocked it over as I lept for the folded piece of paper with a simple sentence scribbled in his handwriting: 

I’ll be home first thing in the morning.

I smiled at his words for far longer than was probably necessary, recalling the notes we used to pass each other in the early days of our friendship; before I realized that we could simply communicate through our bond and shared daemati powers, before I even realized we were mates. My heart swelled at the gesture; imagining him writing the quick note and sending it off with a no-doubt smug grin. I chose not to write back and set it back down on the dresser before enduring a fitful sleep. I was glad the symptoms of my illness were nearly gone and no longer plagued me at night; the strange glimmer at my core remained and flitted about from time to time, but it remained calm now as I laid in bed with eyes trained on the wall of windows across from me. The rising sun was beginning to bathe the sky in morning light; oranges, yellows, and soft pinks blending into the night sky as the sun began its slow ascent. I bit my lip as I glanced down at myself, picking off a stray speck of dust from the red and lacy underthings I wore—a favorite of Rhys’s and one I saved for special occasions.

I sighed deeply, closing my eyes for a brief moment as I stretched my stiff limbs. I didn’t have to open my eyes as I felt him a second later. I smiled as the room was filled with his scent—salt, citrus, and rain. I breathed him in, relief filling every inch of me; noting a very faint, yet familiar, aroma radiating between us. Before I could name it, strong arms enveloped me as I opened my eyes and met with violet.

“Hello Feyre darling,” he purred as he pulled me against him.

I arched my back, allowing his arms to encircle my waist. My hands brushed through his dark locks, making the first contact between us delicate and loving, as he hovered over me. My breathing hitched as I realized his Illyrian leathers were already gone and he pulled me closer.

“You’re here,” I breathed.

His lips met the skin between my neck and shoulder, “I did promise I would be here first thing in the morning.”

“I didn’t realize it would literally be at the crack of dawn,” I teased; one hand moving to grip the hair at the nape of his neck while the other gripped his shoulder, my hips rolling against him.

His hands moved to admire the undergarments I wore, tugging at them with an achingly slow ease, “What can I say? I couldn’t stay away, Feyre darling.”

My breath hitched again as his lips finally caught mine, and any restraint I exercised before now snapped. I kissed him feverishly, hands dragging down his back as his wings flared out instinctively at my touch. I grinned on his lips, “Extra sensitive, are we?”

He growled in response, pressing my hips down as I tried rolling them again, “To think, I almost forgot what a cruel, beautiful thing you are, mate.”

My grin only widened as he moved from my lips down my neck, and further. Leaning my head back with a soft moan, I briefly thought of where the other two Illyrians might be. If Rhys was here, had they remained at the camps to wrap up any leftover business, or-

“Are you really thinking about other males while I’m doing this?” He drawled, nipping at my collarbone as his hand slid between us.

I gasped at his touch, arching my back against him and realized my mental shields had been shamelessly thrown down the second our lips met. Blushing, I tugged at his hair lightly, his eyes meeting mine again as I breathed, “Maybe if you weren’t taking so long, I wouldn’t let my mind wander.”

He growled lowly and the sheer intensity behind those now darkened violet eyes caused me to shiver against him as any previous thoughts and taunts I had vanished; I pulled him back down for a vigorous kiss.

x

Not too long after, we decided not to leave our room for the rest of the day.

He spent the remainder of the morning cherishing every inch of my body, and I did the same, unable to resist him for more than a few minutes before we launched into another round. I couldn’t help feeling amused at our frenzy; reminding me of when we were newly mated. My heart skipped a beat as I remembered what Rhys told me then, about the inherent need to ensure his mate was impregnated. Maybe that was why the frenzy was renewed now; after a week apart, our mating instincts were trying to pick up where we left off before his absence.

Rhys inhaled my scent deeply as a strong hand flattened on my stomach, his face buried in the crook of my neck as we lay in bed--finally allowing ourselves a break. I traced lazy circles on his chest as he took another breath. “Something’s different,” he commented casually.

“What do you mean?” I asked, tracing the dark whorled patterns of the tattoos on his chest; admiring them and dreaming of how to include them into my next painting.

“I don’t know, but something feels off,” he said a little more seriously, and I heard the concern beginning to brew.

I hesitated. I made sure my mental shields were intact as I contemplated revealing my mysterious illness to him. The first night I was sick, my mental shields had been lowered during my vulnerable moment and he was able to guide me through my panic--no doubt being awakened as abruptly as I had been by my nightmare and the illness that followed. Since then, I battled to make sure they remained whole during my nausea spells in order to prevent him from worrying about me further. He noted the delay in my response and frowned.

“You’ve been sick,” it wasn’t a question.

I sighed, “Just a little,” I quickly added before he could protest, “It wasn’t a big deal. I just had a couple of bad days feeling lousy, but I’m much better now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His frown remained, fingers curling into my waist protectively.

“I didn’t want you to worry. You, Cass, and Az had business to take care of in the war camps. How did that go?” I raised a brow, wondering at the slight curl of his lips at the mention of his brothers.

He reigned himself in and sighed, “There were no female recruits in this year’s Rite, as I suspected.”

I rolled my eyes, “I bet Cassian loved that.”

He snorted, “Oh, he loved it so much that Az and I heard all about it for the remainder of our stay.”

“I don’t blame him. He worked hard to train those females, to make sure they were caught up enough to survive out in the mountains,” I empathized. I personally worked with Cassian to train alongside the female Illyrians; giving them my own advice and even instructing some of them on how to properly hold a blade. Tired of Devlon’s constant excuses as to why the females were so behind in their training, Cassian brought them to our own training pit at the estate. After spending several months training with the females of age, I knew how excited they were at the prospect of participating in the Rite.

“I don’t either,” Rhys amended, tracing a finger around my navel; eyeing his own movement as contemplation settled on his face. “We’re going to put more pressure on Devlon for next year. Apparently the other camp lords ‘overwhelmed’ him in their vote to include the females this year.”

I frowned, “Was there any more news on the other camp lords?”

Rhys sighed deeply, already knowing what I was referring to. Ten years ago the son of the camp lord of the Ironcrest camp, Kallon, began spreading post-war dissent among other war camps; putting all the blame of their fallen comrades on the High Lord of the Night Court’s shoulders. Kallon also placed equal responsibility on Cassian and Azriel’s shoulders, seeing as they were not only Illyrian bastards but also close to Rhys and followed his orders. However, after taking over his father as camp lord of Ironcrest, Kallon was silenced once Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel visited the camp. Rhysand made sure to make his presence in the camp known by having Cassian add it to his rotation of monthly check-ins. Not even a year later, the rumors of his insubordination had quieted. We thought the issue was over until Azriel’s recent reports picked up on more of Kallon’s old talks resurfacing among the war camps. During this year's Blood Rite, the trio made it a priority to scavenge any details during their stay in Bloodhaven under the guise of attending and observing the Rite and all its ceremonies and celebrations for their new Illyrian warriors.

“I had Azriel scout the surrounding war camps, and he only picked up on a few of the details we already knew of. It seems they were smart enough to keep their mouths shut with their High Lord present,” He said, moving to press his nose against the hollow of my neck and inhaled my scent once again.

I giggled, tangling my fingers in his hair, “Stop trying to deflect, I want to know more about what happened.”

“So do I,” he breathed deeply, spreading his fingers out on my stomach again as if he were still trying to inspect it.

I furrowed my brow, “Why do you keep touching my stomach and smelling me?”

“Now who’s deflecting?”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he said, raising his head to look at me. “You were sick while I was gone, and lied to me about it. Now I’m back and your scent is off, I’m trying to figure out why.”

“I didn’t lie,” I muttered, avoiding his consuming gaze for a minute before eventually meeting his eyes; nothing but sheer worry lined them and I sighed, “I was only sick for a few days. It started the night I woke up from that nightmare and puked my guts up. The next day I was sick to my stomach for a few hours, and it was on-and-off for a few days after. I’ve been really tired ever since, but the puking stopped two days ago.”

He frowned, “What could have possibly made you sick?”

I shrugged, “You know how many children I’m around during my painting lessons at the studio. Odds are one of them had something I caught. But I’m fine now, really,” I promised.

His shoulders relaxed a bit, but his hand remained on my stomach, “That doesn’t explain why your scent would be different.”

“Are you saying I smell bad?” I pretended to be hurt.

“Well…” he grinned mischievously as I rolled my eyes and tried turning away from him, but his strong arms kept me in place gently. “Maybe it has to do with our mating bond. A sick female would alarm her mate via her scent.”

“Well there you go. Now that I’m getting better, my regular old scent will come back,” I said, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face.

He chuckled, his nose returning to the soft hollow at the base of my neck “Maybe you’re pregnant.”  

I rolled my eyes; he liked to make that joke every time I so much as yawned or expressed any mild manner of fatigue. “I’m not pregnant,” I reluctantly admitted, “I’m due for my cycle in a couple of weeks, if anything that’s probably why I’m still so drained.”

“Should I send for Madja?” He asked, half serious.

I shook my head, “We don’t need to bother her every time my cycle returns, Rhys.”

“You say that every time, and every time she ends up prescribing pain relieving tonics and a slew of herbal teas,” he reasoned, his finger tracing lazy circles around my navel once again.

I smiled, “Which is why I stocked up last time she was here, so don’t call her.”

He sighed reluctantly, but I felt his smile on my skin as he pressed a kiss to the spot, “Fine, but I reserve my right to take care of you.”

I nodded and placed a hand on his chin, tilting his head up in a gesture which he immediately responded to by joining our lips in another deep kiss. “I guess I can deal with that,” I allowed.

He chuckled darkly as he moved from my lips and down my neck, leaving a trail of kisses. I sighed deeply, wanting to give in to another round with him, but I needed to know more about the war camps.

“Did Cassian and Azriel stay behind this morning?” I asked him.

I blinked in alarm at his feral growl as he heard their names, his hands holding me a little more protectively, which seemed to shock him as well. He cleared his throat, “Yes, but they’ll return this afternoon,” he said quietly.

“Rhys,” I began, but he shook his head in apology.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what that was,” he said, true remorse behind his words.

“You haven’t acted this way since we were newly mated,” I said with a frown; now it was my turn to be concerned.

He nodded in agreement, “I know. I think after our time apart, some of my primitive instincts have returned,” he admitted sheepishly.

I smiled in understanding, “I guess this means you’re not allowed to be apart from me for this long ever again.”

“I don’t want to be overbearing,” he divulged, and I knew the thought troubled him.

I shook my head, “You’re not. I didn’t enjoy our time apart anymore than you did,” I reassured, running my hands down his arms before adding “And when you came back...well, you saw how eager I was.”

His feline smile sent my heart fluttering wildly, and I felt that subtle glimmer return at my core for a few seconds. Rhys must have felt it too, because his hand returned to its place on my stomach, “Ever since I felt that tremor between us, my instincts have been heightened. It took everything in my power not to winnow back home to you that night,” he explained.

“It’s probably because I was sick,” I reasoned. “If your innate fae instincts tell you your mate is sick and you can’t tend to them, of course those possessive feelings return.”

He didn’t seem to be that satisfied with my explanation, still ashamed of his behavior, but he nodded. His eyes glanced down at his hand, that earlier scrutiny lining his eyes again. Before I could press him about it, he leaned in to kiss me and sighed deeply.

“Still, I promise I’ll do my best to repress them. Will you bear with me in the meantime?” He asked solemnly.

I nodded, giving him another reassuring smile. “As long as you bear with mine,” I said quietly, shifting my weight in his arms so I could hover over him.

That mischievous grin returned to his handsome face as I straddled him, but faltered when my stomach growled. “Maybe we should have some breakfast first,” he suggested, hands gripping my waist lightly to nudge us apart.

I didn’t budge, instead nipping at a particularly tender spot on his neck that I frequently favored. “Later,” I breathed, a hand dragging down his chest lightly.

He agreed with a groan and leaned his head back as he yielded to my touch.