#polyazris

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Just Need You

PolySJM Week: Day Two

Prompt: Reveal

Pairings: Eris / Azriel / Fem OC

Summary: When Eris is badly injured not even court politic's will keep his mates away from him.

Word Count: 1118

Tags: Angst, Dying, Attempted Murder, Drama because author can’t help herself.

PolySJM Week 2025 Masterlist | Acotar Masterlist

Eris hadn’t known how agonizing dying really was. Of course he’d witness death before and certainly stood on her doorstep more than he’d like to admit. 

But now it just felt different, more… certain. He could feel his heartbeat slowing down, his vision was hazy and his limbs were weightless and heavy all at the same time. Eris swore he could feel the poison pumping into his bloodstream with each ragged and broken gasp for air, slowly leeching off his life force.

It was excruciating. 

Healers were surrounding him, touching him, people coming in and out of his vision but he barely noticed any of it. 

Then a familiar female was there, grasping his shoulders with a panicked look in her eyes. She was speaking fast but the words weren’t quite reaching him. The bond in his chest sang at the blurry sight of her and the tall male swathed in darkness that suddenly stood behind her. 

Both of them were speaking, reaching for him but he couldn’t put the pieces together in this state. Pain was the only thing that existed throughout his entire being, consuming all his senses. 

They got closer, the intoxicating scent of cedar and mist reaching his nose, along with fresh snow and violets. A harsh tug on that living thing in his chest had his vision clearing and finally he laid eyes on his beautiful mates. 

Mates. 

The word rang in his head with such a shocking clarity that the pain disappeared for only a brief moment and he smiled. Enora reached out to touch him, holding his hand to her chest while Azriel brushed a piece of hair away from his sweaty forehead, everything about their presence was a balm to his soul. 

“You’re going to be fine.” She vowed her voice cracking slightly. The usually stoic Shadowsinger had watery eyes. Those scarred hands gripping his shoulder. “You have to be.” Enora whispered. 

Azriel shut down when his emotions ran high whereas Enora panicked with the weight of them. He wished he had the strength to comfort them, wished he had the energy to tell them he was going to be fine. 

The truth was he didn’t believe it. 

He could feel himself slipping and they could too, black dots dancing in his vision. 

Hands roughly pulled his mates away and he let out a painful whine at the loss of their touch. “What the hell are Rhysand and Kallias’ lapdogs doing here?” Adler -his head guard- hissed with a barely contained fury, his hands shaking with panic at the state of his High Lord. 

Eris let out what was supposed to be a warning growl -the only male allowed to touch his mates was him- it came out as a soft whimper when more hands moved across his skin.

Cold, he was so cold. 

The Illyrian shoved Adler when he reached for Enora. Rage burst throughout his being. Voices escalated and a high pitched ringing started in his ears. More darkness swirled around the edge of his vision and too many hands were touching him, too many sensations running through his body as they tried to fight off death herself, too many magics tugging at his soul, his body, his life.

He could barely make out Rhysand’s form, more hazy annoyingly familiar figures appearing as tensions rose. Another male with batlike wings touching his mate, murmuring something to him. Autumn guards fighting with his fragile allies. More hands reaching for Enora, tugging both of them further and further away. 

“Give them room to work….” The words all jumbled and distorted, mixing with another sentence of “It’s not our place..”

Yelling and crying blurred together, Rhysand doing his best to control the situation which only enraged Eris further, after all this was his court. Why were they here again? What the hell was going on? Azriel shoved Cassian away taking another step towards him, his heart fluttering as the Spymaster did his best to reach him once again. 

His mate’s were the only clear figures in his line of vision, their distressed expressions pulling painfully on his slowly beating heart. Too many people hauling them further away. The bond unraveled with each harrowing second. It was all too much.

“Stop-” He gasped, panicking. 

He didn’t want to die, at least not without the loves of his life. 

He liked to be in control of his fate, of his choices, too many times had it been taken from him and now the Mother seemed to be laughing at the stability he had fought for. “Stop it…” His voice weakened with every syllable. Everything was falling apart in front of him, a ball of yarn disentangling before it all crashed and burned. 

More unfamiliar and misty faces crowded above him, touching his bare skin while strong magic yanking on his very being. He didn’t recognize them, didn’t understand what was happening as time slowed and sped up all at once and not at all.

He wanted his mates. 

“Stop.” Eris finally roared, the strength briefly being returned to him in the healer's dance of life and death, his soul being shredded, remade and shredded again in a vicious cycle. Venom burning through him just as fast as their magic did. 

“Stop touching my mates and Let. Them. Approach.” He wheezed out the last part, air knocking out of him in the same sentence. 

Enora and Azriel rushed to him immediately, pushing his shocked guards and the frozen Inner Circle out of their way. 

The Spymaster was the first to reach him, grabbing one of his hands and pressing a kiss to his cheek, tears slipping down his face as they both pulled on the weakened bond.

Enora was next to arrive, sitting down at the other side of him, helping him lean up further against the wall his court had hastily sat him against and pressing her forehead against his as she cried as well. 

He ignored the whisper’s, ignored the stupor radiating off his mate’s family and his own court. He didn’t give a damn about their opinions anymore, as long as his loves kept touching him, kept pulling on that wild and sacred thing that connected them. 

They backed up slightly to let the healers work but not much and Eris decided to fight harder, hoping his infected magic would somehow help him. 

He’d stay here forever as long as they kept touching him, as long as Enora kept whispering soft motivations in his ear, as long as Azriel kept pressing lingering kisses to the juncture of his throat. 

The political consequences of his little revelation would be absolute hell to deal with; he just needed to survive this first.