#rowan whitethorn x reader x lorcan salvaterre

[surielstea]

Camping Affairs

Kinktober day 4: Size + Hair pulling

Pairing: Lorcan Salvaterre x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Reader and Lorcan have to share a tent and can’t find sleep, they find other ways to exhaust themselves.

Warnings: Minors dni | 18+ only | Controlled orgasm I P in V I semi-public (in a tent) | size kink | Hair pulling | praise I clit play | cream pie I fluff at the end

A. Note: I’m so sorry this is late, it didn’t post when I scheduled it for some reason 😭😭, anywho, this is made specifically for the lovely @lexluvswriting because I’m simply here to feed her Lorcan obsession 🫶

6.9k words.

"You know, for being Maeve's pride and joys you'd think we'd be given better accommodations," I say as I lay out my bedroll, the tent Her Majesty supplied us with so small it was almost comical.

"We're warriors, not royalty," Lorcan grumbled from the outside of the canvas, giving me some privacy as I stripped from my leathers and into a nightgown.

"Speak for yourself," I scoffed, poking my head out of the flaps to look up at him. "Rowan is a prince," I say matter-of-factly. "Perhaps he could pull some strings and get us all our own tent," I suggest and he looks at me with that sneering expression he always wore.

"We've battled in wars, I think you can manage," He grumbled, motioning with his hand for me to recede back into the tent. I frowned but backed up and sidled onto my bedroll. I tried not to laugh at the sight of the seven-foot demi-fae crouching to stop his head from hitting the ceiling of the tent.

He gave me a glare that I assume was meant to intimidate me but it didn't affect me much when he had to walk on his knees in order to settle on his own bedroll.

All seven of Maeve's blood sworn were called to meet with her in Doranelle, something about the Lost Princess of Terrasan— I wasn't really listening when Rowan was briefing us, all I knew was that I was going to have to pack my life up for the crazed queen I was sworn to, again, and take the week hike away from my comfy home in Varese.

With only three tents, the seven of us were split into pairs. Two per tent, and one on watch outside. Gavriel had posed a system to put the smallest and the largest together, as to avoid uncomfortably in the tents— and I hadn't thought it would be a problem until now. Shoulder to shoulder, with my least favorite of the group.

"Why do you have to be built like a damned giant," I grumble as I shift away from him, the side of me pressing into the wall of the tent. I could've shifted onto my side and separated us a little further— but that would mean I'd have to face him, and at this proximity, I doubt it would be comfortable for either of us.

"Would you rather join Rowan and Fenrys?" Lorcan grumbles, sounding like he was talking in my ear he was so close. I smirk at the idea.

"Can't say I'd be displeased in the middle of that," I purr.

Lorcan sighs, muttering a string of curses, too low to make out. "You're insufferable." He decided on voicing.

"And yet, here we are, stuck with each other," I teased, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. "Don't pretend you don't love it."

He snorts. "I could think of better ways to spend my time."

"Oh?" I hum, turning toward him a little more, my cheek propped on my hand. "What would Lorcan Salvaterre rather be doing right now, instead of sharing a tent with yours truly?"

He shoots me a look, dark and brooding, but his lips twitch. "Not listening to you, for starters."

I roll my eyes. "If you weren't so quiet all the time, maybe I wouldn't have to fill the silence."

"There's silence because I'm trying to sleep," he retorts, though his tone is lighter, almost playful—at least, as playful as Lorcan ever gets.

I scoff, grinning. "Please, you never sleep. You just brood all night like some menacing statue."

"You should be grateful," he says, adjusting his position, his shoulder now brushing against mine. "At least I keep the monsters away."

"Monsters?" I snort. "The only thing I'm afraid of in this tent is your enormous leg crushing me in my sleep."

"You talk too much," Lorcan grumbles, though there's the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

"I talk just enough to drive you insane," I shoot back, feeling a strange sense of victory at the idea of getting under his skin. "It's one of my many talents," I add, worsening the blow.

He doesn't respond, but his silence feels different this time. Like he's deciding whether to engage or just strangle me.

"If you're so miserable," I start, stifling a yawn, "you ought to throw me outside and have the whole tent to yourself," I utter, lifting my arms up over my head and stretching out to the best of my abilities.

"Don't tempt me," he grunts, though I don't miss the way his eyes follow me as I stretch, my movements exaggerated just to annoy him.

"You wouldn't know what to do with yourself," I murmur, settling back down. "Without me to keep you company."

"Go to sleep," he says, ignoring my words.

I smirk up at the stars. "Sweet dreams, Salvaterre."

His grumble is the only reply I get, but for some reason, the sound makes me smile.

The silence stretches on for a few minutes, and I do my best to settle in, but there's no ignoring the cramped space and the sheer presence of Lorcan taking up most of it. After a few more minutes of tossing and turning, I sigh dramatically.

"I can't sleep," I announced, knowing he was still wide awake.

From beside me, Lorcan groans, clearly exasperated. "Of course, you can't," he mutters under his breath, dragging a hand down his face.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, rolling onto my side to face him, our faces just inches apart in the dim light.

"That you're incapable of quieting down for more than a minute," he grumbles, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"I've been quiet for at least five minutes!" I argue, though I can't help the grin tugging at my lips. "And anyway, it's your fault. You're hogging all the space."

He cracks an eye open, giving me a flat look. "You take up about as much room as a pillow. You have plenty of space."

"Then why can't I get comfortable?" I huff, shifting again, this time letting my arm bump against his on purpose.

"You're sleeping with the wolves tonight." He says like it’s a promise.

I gasp dramatically, my hand flying to my chest. "Lorcan Salvaterre, you would abandon me to the creatures of the night? Leave me defenseless and cold?"

"You're hardly defenseless," he says, but I catch the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

I grin, triumphant. "I knew it—you do care."

"Care? I just don't want to explain to Maeve why I let you get eaten by a wyvern," he grumbles, turning onto his side so his back is to me.

I roll my eyes, inching closer just to annoy him. "You'd miss me," I murmur, as if it was an absent thought.

"Like a hole in my head."

I poke him between the shoulder blades. "Liar. You'd be lost without me. Who else would keep you entertained on these long, miserable missions?"

He doesn't respond right away, but I don't miss the way his shoulders tense at my words. "You're assuming I need entertainment."

"You're assuming you don't," I tease, leaning in until my chin is nearly resting on his arm. "Deep down, I know you love it. My sparkling wit, my endless charm—"

He turns so quickly that I almost tumble backward, his face suddenly centimeters from mine. His dark eyes glint with something that makes my heart skip a beat. "You're lucky I don't actually throw you out of this tent."

I blink up at him, trying to ignore the way my pulse races at the proximity. "You'd never."

His eyebrow raises. "You willing to bet?"

I raise mine right back, leaning in just a fraction more.

"I do." There's a brief moment where neither of us moves, the air between us charged with unspoken tension. Then, with a long-suffering sigh, Lorcan rolls his eyes and collapses back onto his bedroll.

"You're impossible," he mutters, covering his face with his arm. "Go to sleep before I do actually throw you out."

I smirk, victory swelling in my chest. "Admit it—you'd be bored out of your mind without me."

"If I admit it, will you shut up?"

"I'll think about it," I hum, settling back into my bedroll, feeling way more pleased with myself than I should.

"Fine," he growls. "I'd be bored."

I can't help the laugh that bubbles up. "See? Was that so hard?"

Lorcan groans again, louder this time. "It was unbearable."

"Goodnight, Lorcan," I say sweetly, curling up and closing my eyes, but I'm still grinning like an idiot.

From beside me, I hear a quiet mutter, almost too soft to catch. "Goodnight."

We lay there in silence for a few minutes, but as usual, my mind refused to settle. The darkness outside the tent feels suffocating, the air thick with anticipation of the mission ahead. I chew my bottom lip, turning over a dozen questions in my head before finally blurting out the one that's been nagging me all night.

"What do you think Maeve wants from us?"

Lorcan's groan is immediate. "You said you'd shut up," he grumbles, not even opening his eyes.

"I said I'd think about it, Salvaterre," I correct, nudging him with my elbow. "Besides, I can't sleep when you keep kicking me."

He huffs out a breath, lifting his arm from his eyes to glare at me. "I haven't moved an inch."

"Oh, really?" I feign innocence, shifting my foot to gently nudge his leg. "What do you call this?"

"That," he says flatly, "is you kicking me."

"I'm just showing you what it feels like," I shoot back, smirking as I prod his shin again.

"Stop that," he growls.

"I will when you answer my question."

"You should be more worried about surviving the week without me strangling you."

I huff, my face burning, but the silence that follows is heavier now—charged with the tension that neither of us wants to acknowledge. After a beat, I clear my throat, breaking it.

"You still didn't answer my question."

He sighs, long and dramatic. "How should I know? Probably some power play involving the Princess."

"Do you think they’ll ally?" I ask, though I know I'm pushing my luck.

He hesitates, his gaze flicking toward the tent's ceiling. "I don’t know," he admits. "Or she might just want us to deal with something different entirely. Maeve doesn't summon all of us for nothing."

I nod, feeling a shiver run through me. "I just hope we don't end up with another war on our hands."

Lorcan shifts slightly, his massive form somehow taking up even more space. "If we do, I'll be sure to shove you out in front to make use of all that 'charm' you keep going on about."

I roll my eyes, kicking him lightly under the blanket. "You're the worst."

He opens one eye to glance at me, unamused. "If I kill you in your sleep, it's your fault."

"Please," I scoff, sitting up slightly. "You couldn't strangle me even if you tried. I'd have you pinned in a heartbeat."

A low, rumbling chuckle escapes him, one that's more amused than I expected. "You? Pin me?"

I raise an eyebrow, refusing to back down. "You'd be surprised."

He tilts his head slightly, considering me with a dark glint in his eyes. "Go on, then. Prove it."

I blink, caught off guard by the challenge. "What, right now?"

He shrugs, the movement sending a ripple through his broad shoulders. "Unless you're too scared."

I narrow my eyes, inching closer. "I'm not scared."

His lips twitch, just barely, but enough to make my heart pound in my chest. "Then do it."

Before I can talk myself out of it, I shift, moving to straddle his waist. "Okay," I say, though my voice sounds much shakier than I intended. "See? You're completely at my mercy now."

Lorcan, infuriatingly, doesn't look remotely concerned. He just stares up at me, one eyebrow raised, as if waiting for something more. "That's it?"

"Well, I—" I start, but he interrupts by effortlessly grabbing my wrists in one of his massive hands and flipping me over before I can even process what's happening.

In the blink of an eye, I'm pinned beneath him, my back pressing into the bedroll as his weight holds me in place. His face hovers inches above mine, dark and unreadable, though I swear there's a flicker of amusement in his gaze.

"I think that's what you were trying to do," he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous, but with a playful edge.

I glare up at him, trying to squirm, but he doesn't budge. "You cheated."

He leans in slightly, his breath brushing against my cheek. "You didn't give me much of a challenge."

"You're such a brute," I snap, though I'm more frustrated with myself for falling right into his trap.

"I can't believe I made Whitethorn train you instead, this is delightful."

"Oh please, you just forgot the feel of a woman beneath you."

"Care to remind me what I've been missing?" His smirk widens, daring me to say more.

"Depends, what do I get in return?"

"A lesson, maybe I'll teach you what it's like to be beneath someone who knows how to be in control."

His words hang in the air between us, and my breath catches, the challenge in his voice igniting something deep within me. I try to maintain my composure, but the way his dark eyes lock onto mine makes it difficult. There's an intensity in his gaze that makes my heart race, a spark of something primal that sends shivers down my spine.

"Is that so?" I reply, my voice teasing yet laced with curiosity. "And just how do you plan to do that?"

"A demonstration," he murmurs, leaning in closer until his breath warms my skin, his lips hovering tantalizingly above mine.

The space between us crackles with tension, my heart pounding in my chest as I hold his gaze, searching for any sign of hesitation. Instead, I find determination mixed with that devil-may-care amusement that is so quintessentially Lorcan. It drives me wild.

"Show me, then," I challenge, emboldened by the heat of the moment.

A slow smile spreads across his face, and before I can brace myself, he captures my wrists in his powerful hands and shifts, pinning them above my head against the soft canvas of the tent. My breath hitches at the sudden thrill of being completely at his mercy, the weight of his body pressing me into the bedroll, a heady mix of vulnerability and exhilaration flooding my senses.

"Do you trust me?" he asks, his voice low, teasing, but there's an undercurrent of seriousness that sends a thrill racing through me.

"Do I have a choice?" I reply, trying to sound defiant but feeling the flush of excitement creeping up my neck.

"Good answer," he says, leaning down, his lips barely brushing against mine, teasingly close yet just out of reach. The warmth of his breath sends tingles across my skin, and I can't resist the urge to lean in, desperate for that connection.

"Stop teasing," I whisper my heart racing, the air thick with unspoken tension. "Just kiss me already."

With a low growl of approval, he closes the distance, capturing my lips with his in a fierce, passionate kiss. It's electric, a jolt that sends sparks dancing along my nerves, igniting every inch of my skin. The kiss deepens, and I lose myself in the taste of him—warm and intoxicating.

His lips move against mine with a hungry urgency, coaxing me into the rhythm of it. I respond instinctively, wrapping my arms around the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, urging him on. The world outside the tent fades away, leaving only the two of us, entangled in the heat of the moment.

I can feel the weight of his body pressing into mine, the way his strength envelops me, sending a rush of desire coursing through my veins. It's overwhelming and intoxicating, igniting a fire within me that I didn't know was there.

I part my legs and he adjusts, slotting between them— gods it was an effort for my legs to even widen enough. He grabbed my thigh in one of his large hands and guided it up higher, then the other, until I was in a mating press beneath him. He smirked against my lips, his hands moving to trail up my sides. "Now you're really at my mercy," He purred and my core thrummed in anticipation.

"Lorcan," I panted into his open mouth, unable to find the words to tell him how badly I needed this.

"As much as I love the sound of you moaning my name, I need you to stay quiet for me, yeah?" He asked and I sucked in a breath, nodding all too quickly, too desperately.

He smirked at the reaction and captured my lips with his yet again, devouring me as he pried my mouth open with his tongue, exploring me with it, not missing a spot uncovered.

I tugged at the waistband of his pants and he captured my wrist before I could tug them down much further. "Not yet, I need to stretch you out first," He warned, his tone brooking no argument.

I let out a soft whimper of protest and he pressed his mouth onto mine, his voice softening as he said, "I don't want to hurt you, be patient for me and I promise I'll make you feel good alright?" He reassured me, his thumb brushing over the pulse point of my wrist before releasing it.

I nod slowly, slipping my hands into his silky black hair while he pushes up my nightgown.

He practically tore through my panties without a second thought, then froze for a moment before making contact. His eyes flicked to mine and I returned his stare with pleasing eyes and a rapid nod. He leaned down, below my lips and to the line of my jaw, making his way down the column of my throat before his calloused fingertips came to contact with my pulsing cunt.

His lips morphed into a malicious smile as he felt just how badly I needed him, the way I was practically dripping down his hand. "So wet, and here I was thinking you hated me?" He drawled against my skin, kissing down my chest and then back up to the hollow of my throat.

I tug at his hair, silently begging him for more. "Lorcan," I whine, words failing me as I arch into his touch, attempting to get even the smallest taste of pleasure. "Please, touch me," I swallow past the lump in my throat.

"I am touching you, love," He whispered, his breath ghosting over the shell of my ear.

My brows furrowed, features contorting with need. "Inside of me, please," I beg. A smirk pulls at his lips and he leans closer, gently pressing his lips to my cheek— too gentle to be casual. But I didn't have time to weigh the action because suddenly he had two fingers pushing inside of my aching cunt, stretching me out.

A gasp escaped me and he swallowed it greedily before connecting our lips again, silencing me.

His long, calloused fingers pumped skillfully into me, grazing against my contracting walls. "Fuck, you're tight," He breathed as I clenched desperately around his hand, gripping his hair but not pulling. His other hand snaked up my propped-up thigh, pinning it down with a possessive need.

His thumb met my clit and it took everything in me not to scream, to cry out his name. "That's it," He encouraged. "Such a good girl, staying quiet for me," He praised, making the tension in my core tighten until it was nearly unbearable.

My overwhelming need for release was all-consuming, every thrust of his fingers, every roll of his thumb sent me reeling. He knew I was close, knew from the way I was trembling beneath him— I knew that he knew, but still, I cried in protest when his hand stilled.

"Not yet," He warned softly, pulling his hand out of me entirely, leaving me empty and aching. I opened my mouth to protest, to beg him to keep going, but he cut me off with a searing kiss, swallowing my complaints with his lips. "I said, be patient," He whispered against my mouth, his tone dark and commanding. "And when you come, it'll be on my cock. Understood?"

I nodded quickly, my breath coming in desperate pants, the tension in my body screaming for release. But I clamped down on my objections, not wanting him to drag this out longer than he already meant to.

His smirk widened, pleased with my compliance, and he finally rid himself of the last of his clothes, his pants hitting the ground with a soft thud. The sight of him—broad and powerful, his skin glistening in the dim light of the tent—made my pulse quicken, and the need to feel him inside me surged with renewed intensity.

He moved to get rid of my clothes too, still bunched at my hips. Luckily he didn't rip it off of me as he did with my panties, instead guided the material over my head, baring me to the brisk night air and his intense gaze.

"Beautiful," He whispered softly, pressing a claiming kiss to the top of one of my breasts. My lip wobbled with a need to moan but I held it down, instead distracted myself with the sight of him.

His shirtless figure was a sight to behold, carved muscle and a chest as hard as marble, but it was what was below his torso that made me pause.

I had expected Lorcan to be big, but gods. I had been with many men in my immortal life, and still, he made me freeze.

His smirk widened as he noticed where my stare was directed. He settled himself between my thighs, his broad frame dwarfing mine. I could feel the heat of him pressing into me, so much of him. My breath hitched, and his dark eyes flicked down, catching the way I bit my lip as he aligned himself at my entrance. His size alone had me trembling, and he knew it—relishing in the subtle way my body tensed beneath him.

He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "I almost feel bad," he whispered, "about how much I'm going to stretch you out."

A low whimper escaped me, and I felt his grin against my skin. My fingers curled into his hair, tugging lightly as I drew him closer, desperate for more. His eyes darkened as I pulled harder, and I could feel the tension ripple through his body.

"Be good for me, love, and stay still," he purred, voice a velvety rasp. His hips barely moved, teasing me with the blunt head of his cock as he pushed forward just enough to stretch me—just enough to drive me wild. He pulled back before I could feel the full pressure, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he watched my hips arch off the bedding, chasing him.

"You're so desperate," he murmured, his breath hot against my throat, "so needy." His tone was teasing in a way that would usually enrage me, but the way he said it sent a rush of heat to my core instead, making me clench around nothing, aching for him to fill me.

"Lorcan," I whispered, my voice trembling as I shifted beneath him, trying to ease the ache. He groaned at the sound of his name on my lips, and the tension in his body told me he was holding back, keeping himself in check for my sake.

Slowly, torturously, he guided himself to my entrance, the blunt head of his cock teasing me, stretching me open just enough to make me gasp. My nails dug into his shoulders as he began to push forward, the burn of the stretch sending sparks of pain-laced pleasure through my core.

"Fuck," I breathed, my eyes squeezing shut as he inched deeper. He was so big—bigger than I'd expected—and I had to fight to keep my breaths steady as my body adjusted to the size of him.

Lorcan paused for a moment, letting me catch my breath, his large hand caressing my thigh in slow, soothing strokes. "You're doing so well," he murmured, his voice a low rasp, full of restraint. "Just relax for me."

"Stay still," he breathed, voice rough as he pulled back just enough to make me whine, the emptiness unbearable. "Gods, it's hard to control myself when you keep moving like that."

A shiver ran through me at his words, my core clenching around him as he pressed forward again, slow and deliberate, giving me every thick inch of him until I was stretched impossibly full. My legs trembled as they tried to accommodate his size, and his hands came down to hold them steady, lifting my thighs higher, and spreading me wider beneath him.

"That's it, just like that," he murmured, his voice dropping to a growl as he adjusted his angle, sliding deeper still. "Good girl, taking me so well."

I whimpered at the praise, my fingers tangling in his hair, tugging harder now, desperate to feel him move. His breath hitched, a low moan escaping him as I pulled, and I could feel the way it affected him—how much it pushed him closer to the edge of his restraint.

But Lorcan wasn't one to be rushed.

He withdrew agonizingly slow, leaving me panting beneath him, aching for him to fill me again. "You can handle a little more, can't you?" he teased, his lips curling into a smirk as he saw the need in my eyes. My hands moved from his hair to the nape of his neck, trying to pull him back down to me, urging him on, but he caught my wrists with ease, pinning them above my head with one large hand. The contrast in size was startling—his fingers easily wrapping around both of my wrists, holding me completely at his mercy.

He leaned down, his lips barely brushing mine as he whispered, "Stay still, or I'll make you wait longer."

A soft whimper escaped me, and he chuckled darkly, pleased with my compliance. Slowly, he started to move again, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each one drawing out the delicious stretch, making me gasp as he filled me completely, finally bottoming out as his hips pressed into mine.

My body trembled beneath him, the intensity of it building with every slow, torturous thrust. I could feel the thick slide of him inside me, the way my walls clenched around his cock, desperate to hold him, to keep him deep inside. But Lorcan kept up the slow pace, each thrust deeper than the last, drawing me out, making me feel every inch of him.

"Fuck, so tight," he murmured, his voice low and rough, filled with desire. His free hand slid down my side, gripping my waist as he pulled me closer, his hips rolling into me with a new intensity that made me see stars.

"Lorcan," I mewled, writhing beneath him, bucking my hips up to meet his

He let out a low growl as I continued to disobey his order to stay still. "If you keep doing that," he warned, his voice thick with strain, "I'm not going to be able to stop myself."

"Then don't," I breathed, my voice trembling as I arched into him, wanting—needing—more.

His eyes darkened, and before I could say anything else, he was moving again, faster now, his thrusts more intense, each one hitting deeper, making me cry out in pleasure. He swallowed my moans with his mouth, devouring me with a kiss so fierce it left me breathless.

Lorcan's hand, the one not gripping my wrists, slipped between us, his thumb brushing over my clit with just enough pressure to make me gasp, my body jerking beneath him. "Stay quiet," he reminded me, his voice a low growl as his thumb circled slowly, teasingly. "We wouldn't want anyone to hear, would we?"

I shook my head frantically, biting down on my lip to keep from crying out as his pace quickened, the tension inside me building unbearably with every push and pull of his powerful hips, every circle of his thumb on my sensitive clit. I was so close, so on edge, but I knew he wasn't going to let me go just yet. He wanted to drag it out, to make me feel every second of it.

His lips ghosted over my ear as he whispered, "I love how small you feel beneath me—how perfectly you fit around my cock."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, making my walls tighten around him in response. I could feel the heat of his body pressing into mine, the steady rhythm of his thrusts making me dizzy with desire. The way he filled me, stretched me, it was almost too much—almost, but not enough.

I wanted more. I needed more.

He pulled back just enough to smirk down at me, his eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction. "Gods, you're so fucking tight," he growled, his voice low and guttural as he picked up the pace, thrusting into me harder, deeper. My body arched beneath him, instinctively chasing the pleasure only he could give me.

His hand, still holding my wrists above my head, tightened its grip, his other sliding down my body to grab hold of my waist, pulling me against him with each thrust. The intensity was overwhelming, but I craved every second of it. His thumb returned to my clit, circling it with maddening precision, making my toes curl and my breath catches in my throat.

I bit down on my lip, desperate to keep quiet as he'd commanded, but it was nearly impossible with the way he was driving me to the brink, over and over again. I could feel the pressure building in my core, a white-hot ball of tension that threatened to unravel me at any moment.

"You close baby?" Lorcan rasped, his voice rough as he ground his hips into mine, each thrust hitting deeper than the last. His thumb pressed harder on my clit, the friction sending shockwaves through my body.

I nodded frantically, unable to form coherent words, my head spinning with the need for release.

"Beg for it," he commanded, his breath hot against my ear as he continued his relentless pace, driving me wild. "Beg me to let you come."

I whimpered, my body trembling beneath him as I struggled to find the words. "Please, Lorcan," I whispered, my voice shaking as I arched up against him, desperate for more. "Please, please I can't hold it— I need it, Lor."

He groaned at my words, his thrusts becoming harder, more erratic, his control slipping. "Good girl," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "Go ahead, come on my cock."

With those words, the tension inside me snapped. My entire body clenched around him, my back arching off the bed as I came undone, the wave of pleasure crashing over me so violently I saw stars. I bit down on my lip, stifling the scream that threatened to escape as my orgasm tore through me, every nerve in my body alight with sensation.

Lorcan let out a low, guttural groan as he felt me clench around him, his pace faltering as he chased his own release. His hips snapped into mine one last time, burying himself deep inside me as he came with a low growl, his body trembling with the force of it.

For a long, breathless second, neither of us moved, the sounds of our ragged breathing the only thing filling the air. But as the intensity slowly ebbed, Lorcan pulled back, his smirk already returning to his lips. He let out a satisfied hum as he leaned down to press a lazy kiss to my jaw. "See? You can follow orders when you really want to."

I swatted his chest weakly, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Don't get used to it," I said, still panting, though my voice had a playful edge to it.

He chuckled, rolling off me and settling onto his side, his large arm draped possessively over my waist. "I don't need to. You'll break soon enough."

I snorted, feeling the familiar banter falling back into place. "You're dreaming, Salvaterre. If anything, you're the one breaking. You were practically trembling back there."

His dark eyes flashed with amusement, and he leaned down to brush his lips against my ear. "Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "If I was really trying to break you, you wouldn't even be able to walk right now."

I rolled my eyes, unable to stop the grin tugging at my lips. "Bold words for an old man who can barely control himself."

He raised a brow, his grip on my waist tightening just enough to remind me of his strength. "Care to test that theory?"

I shot him a challenging look, though the heat still lingered in my veins. "Maybe next time," I teased, flipping onto my side to face him, our noses brushing and suddenly the tent didn't feel all that small. "You've got to save some energy if you plan on keeping up with me, after all."

His eyes glinted with amusement, and the playful edge in his smile sent a shiver of anticipation through me. "Oh, you have no idea what you've just gotten yourself into,"

With a wink, I scooted a little further from him— well, as far as I could, feigning innocence. "Well, in that case, let's see if you can keep your hands to yourself until morning."

Lorcan's low chuckle reverberated in the tent, his eyes gleaming with challenge as he watched me. "Go to sleep already," He insisted. I look at him, staring at his features softened by the moonlight filtering through the canvas.

And as I settled back into the blankets, his body warm beside mine, I couldn't help but smirk, knowing that the game between us was far from over. "Goodnight, Lor," I mumble quietly.

The faint light of dawn filtered through the tent, pulling me from sleep. The warmth of Lorcan's body was missing, and the space beside me felt cool to the touch. I blinked groggily, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I rolled onto my back, pulling the thin blankets over my bare body, the events of the previous night replaying in my mind.

I swallowed hard, my heart thudding as I thought about everything—what it meant to have crossed that line with Lorcan. We'd been stuck in this tense back-and-forth, pushing each other's buttons ever since I met the male, but last night had changed everything, we stepped past a boundary we couldn't come back from. A part of me wondered if it would be different now, or if he'd go back to being the brooding, impossible male he was before. My chest tightened, but I pushed the thought aside. No use overthinking it, especially when we had a mission to accomplish.

I took a deep breath, sitting up and squaring my shoulders as I reached for my clothes, trying to act as normal as possible. We had orders and obligations, and I couldn't afford to be distracted by what happened between us. But gods, it was hard to ignore the lingering ache in my body, between my legs, the reminder of how thoroughly Lorcan had claimed me.

I ran my hands through my messy head of hair and braided it back to have somewhat of a semblance of neatness. With my nightgown replaced by my gear, I slipped out of the tent, the early morning air crisp against my skin, my boots crunching on the fallen leaves. As I approached the campfire, I spotted Lorcan among the rest of Maeve's blood sworn—all gathered around, the smell of campfire smoke filling my senses.

The moment I stepped to where the rest sat, Fenrys' head snapped up, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Well, well," he drawled, his golden eyes sparkling with amusement. "Look who decided to join us."

I forced a casual smile, pretending I hadn't noticed the way the rest of the males exchanged looks. "Good morning," I said, keeping my voice steady, though I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. I kept my eyes off Lorcan as I took a seat beside the white wolf, ignoring the tension in my stomach that was somewhere between knots and butterflies.

Lorcan didn't say anything, but I could feel his presence in front of me, his tall frame looming over the fire as he flipped something on the skillet. I couldn't tell what it was amidst the flames, but with the way Vaughan and Rowan were wincing something told me it was a bird one of the others seemed good enough to eat.

Rowan raised a brow at me, his sharp gaze flicking between Lorcan and me before he smirked. "You sleep well?" he asked innocently, though the gleam in his eyes betrayed him.

I shot him a sidelong glance. "As well as I could, considering someone was snoring."

Fenrys snorted, nudging Gavriel on the other side of him, who was trying—and failing—to keep a straight face. "Must've been some noise last night," Fenrys said under his breath, not bothering to hide the grin that tugged at his lips.

Heat surged to my face, and I glared at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Gavriel gave a soft cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, while Fenrys outright cackled. "Don't worry," Fenrys said, flashing me a wink. "No judgments here."

My face felt like it was on fire, and I was sure my expression was betraying me, but I shot back, "How sweet of you, Fenrys."

"You know, if you ever grow bored of the brooding male you could always come join me in my tent instead," Fenrys added, leaning back on his palms with his signature smirk. "I could show you what it's like to really be loud," He suggested and I swore Lorcan's knuckles turned white he was gripping his hunting knife so tightly. But he remained steady, didn't so much as look at us as he awaited my reply.

"Tempting, Fenrys, but I think I'll stick with what I have. Once you go tall, dark, and brooding, it's hard to go back." I say, flicking my gaze past the fire to Lorcan, whose shoulders visibly relaxed.

Fenrys clenched at his chest, pretending to be mortally wounded. "Ah, so it's like that, is it?" he quipped, but the glint in his eye said he was far from offended. "I guess I'll just have to find solace in knowing I could've changed your life forever."

I grinned, leaning back on my hands as I shot him a mock-sympathetic look. "You'll survive, Fenrys. I hear rejection builds character."

He was about to retort when Rowan chimed in, his deep voice filled with dry amusement. "I don't know, Fenrys. After last night, it sounds like she found someone more than capable of showing her a good time."

My cheeks flamed as I glared at Rowan, though I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. "You too, huh?" I shot back.

Before Fenrys could continue the teasing, Lorcan finally broke his silence, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "Don't you have better things to do than gossip about things that don't concern you?" He still didn't look up from the skillet, but the hard set of his jaw and the tension in his broad shoulders were unmistakable.

Vaughan, silent as ever, gave a half-shrug, tossing a stick into the fire as he added his two cents, his voice calm but amused. "Considering the noise last night, it kind of does concern all of us."

A chorus of snickers followed, and even Gavriel cracked a grin. My face went up in flames, and I buried it in my hands. "You all need better hobbies," I muttered into my palms, but it did nothing to stop the laughter ringing through the camp.

I turned my head just enough to catch Lorcan's eyes as he finally glanced over at me, the firelight flickering in his gaze. The corner of my lips lifted in a challenging smirk.

"If you lot are done, breakfast is ready." He moved and passed me a plate, his warm hand brushing against mine for just a second—a flicker of something unspoken passing between us—before he turned back to the skillet.

The knowing looks from the others didn't stop throughout breakfast. Fenrys continued to make sly comments, Rowan smirked every time Lorcan so much as glanced at me, and even Gavriel, the most serious of the group, couldn't completely hide his amusement.

I had managed to block all of their comments and snickering remarks out, but for some reason, I wasn't able to shake the stare Lorcan had pinned on me.

I looked over to him and for a moment his eyes flicked down to my lips, a challenge. I smirked, beckoning him to test the silent boundaries. He didn't move, but he didn't look away either, and something told me we were nowhere near finished with each other.

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[danikamariewrites]

Poly Week Masterlist

@polysjmweek is finally here! I’ve been looking forward to this event since we did it last time and I’m so happy to be participating again. I also love it’s expanded from just ACOTAR to cover all these SJM worlds. Unfortunately you won’t find any worlds crossing over here (I’ll leave that to others and Sarah) BUT I do have some fun pairings, fluff, angst, and of course smut 🤗

Day 1: Torn (Aelin x reader x Manon)

Being with Aelin and Manon is like walking on air. But being romantically involved with both queens (and kings) comes with its struggles as they constantly fight over which kingdom you spend more time in.

Day 2: That Funny Feeling (Lysadeion x reader)

Everyone around you is happy and in love. You’re happy for your friends, you just keep wondering when it’ll be your turn to be happy. The problem is you see yourself being happy with a pair that’s already mated and married. But that funny feeling in your chest gives you hope.

Day 3: One Hotel Room…Really? (Hunt x reader x Baxian)

You’ve had dreams where you’re squished between two hunky angels. Not when you’re pissed off at said hunky angels though. After being annoyed with Hunt and Baxian all day the last thing you want to do is share a bed with them.

Day 4: The Hunter (vampire!Neris x reader)

It’s been months since Nesta and Eris have turned you. Still getting used to your new vampire senses has you jumping at every noise and peeking around every corner just in case of monsters, forgetting you are the monster now. You find one in the shape of a human man creeping around your home.

Day 5: Play Again (Cassian x reader x Feysand)

The sight of Rhys and Feyre at Starfall has your brain turning to mush. The only thing you can think of is the night you all shared just a few weeks ago. And how badly you want them again.

Day 6: Locked Away (Cadre x reader)

Standing up to Queen Maeve with your loves doesn’t go as planned. To save them and stall for time you do the only thing you can think of. Making the ultimate sacrifice.

Day 7: Discipline (Cazriel x reader)

You already had your why choose moment with these two. Now you’re exploring the dynamic between the 3 of you and just how far you can push your new mates.

[moonlitstoriess]

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

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

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

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

See masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His silence was answer enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

Y/n smiled at the memory.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lorcan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As the door closed, the room erupted.

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

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

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

----------

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

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

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

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

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

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

His silence was damning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Soon, she was surrounded.

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

But there were too many.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The room fell silent, the air heavy with tension.

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

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

The silence that followed was deafening.

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

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

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

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

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

“And y/n,” Gavriel added grimly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They found her at dawn.

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

Lorcan froze, his heart shattering at the sight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And when Maeve found out, he would be ready.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lorcan, behind you!” Fenrys shouted.

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up and fight,” Lorcan snarled back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go,” Rowan ordered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Maeve… Maeve would pay for this.

------

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

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

Where am I?

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

Her breath caught.

Lorcan.

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

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

But then it all came rushing back.

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

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

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

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

Then his gaze landed on her, and he froze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it was all his fault.

———————————————————————

[slytherin-pen]

Decisions, Decisions

pairing: Cadre x Reader

word count: 901

warnings: none

a/n: written for day 7 of @polysjmweek

The weight of the decision you had to make was suffocating. Every stolen glance, every lingering touch, every shared laugh with one of them only twisted the knife deeper. Rowan, strong and steady. Lorcan, dark and unyielding. Gavriel, warm and understanding. And Fenrys, all humor and quiet devotion.

You loved them. All of them. And the truth of it was a heavy thing.

At first, you tried to ignore it. You trained your magic with Rowan, sparred with Lorcan, confided in Gavriel, and let Fenrys coax laughter from you when the world felt too heavy. But the deeper your feelings grew, the more impossible it became to keep pretending that you could pick one and live with it. The idea of choosing one meant losing the others, breaking the hearts of warriors who had already lost too much.

So you did the only thing you could think of. You pulled away.

It wasn’t immediate, but they noticed—of course they noticed. The Cadre was perceptive, predators honed by centuries of battle. You were not as skilled at hiding as you wanted to believe.

Rowan was the first to press you on it. He wasn’t unkind, but his sharp green eyes pinned you in place after he cornered you in the living room. “You’re avoiding us.”

“What?” you asked, feigning confusion.

Before Rowan could respond the others walked into the room, settling themselves on the couches. Lorcan sat next to Rowan, and Fenrys and Gavriel sat on either side of you.

Lorcan’s arms were crossed, dark brows drawn low as he glowered. “You’ve been distant.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest. You took a deep breath, trying to school your features to hide what you truly felt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Gavriel’s gaze was softer but no less intense. “Don’t lie to us. Tell us what’s going on, love.”

Fenrys didn’t say anything at first. He just moved his hand to your thigh, swiping his thumb back and forth in a comforting motion. Breaking down your defenses.

You swallowed hard, hands curling into fists. “I—” You hesitated, blood whooshing in your ears. “I don’t want to hurt any of you.”

Rowan’s jaw tightened. “What do you mean?”

Your breath came uneven. “I can’t pick.” The words tumbled out, raw and painful. “I can’t pick just one of you to love. Because I love all of you. And I know it’s selfish and wrong, and I know it’ll hurt to have to choose, but I—” Your voice cracked, eyes burning. “I don’t know how to live with breaking my own heart, let alone yours.”

Fenrys laughed. It wasn’t cruel, wasn’t mocking. It was relieved. You blinked at him as he grinned. “Is that what’s been tearing you up inside?”

Your lips parted, but no words came.

Rowan exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “You fool.”

Lorcan’s scowl had softened just a fraction. “You think we’d make you choose?”

You blinked. “You—what?”

Gavriel scooted closer to you on the couch, taking one of your hands in his. “Do you truly think we haven’t spoken about this?” His tawny eyes gleamed with humor. “That we haven’t noticed how you look at all of us? How we look at you?”

The room felt too small, your chest too tight. “But—you can’t be serious.”

Rowan huffed. “We are.”

Fenrys leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “We’ve been waiting for you to catch up, sweetheart.”

Your brain stalled. They had… talked about this?

Rowan, so reserved. Lorcan, who barely tolerated most people. Gavriel, the most level-headed of them all. And Fenrys, wild and untamed. They had spoken about loving you, about sharing you, and they were fine with it?

You opened your mouth to say something else but all that came out was a strangled sound.

Fenrys grinned. “We broke her.”

Gavriel chuckled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Breathe, lioness”

Your heart thundered. “You’re all okay with this? Really?”

Rowan’s gaze softened. “We are.”

Lorcan’s voice was rough but sure. “We’ve always shared a bond. You were just the missing piece.”

Fenrys tilted his head. “So tell us, sweetheart—why choose?”

You exhaled shakily, warmth flooding your chest.

“Come here,” Gavriel murmured, opening his arms.

You crawled into his lap, resting your head on his shoulder. His large, calloused hands came up to cradle your head and rub your back.

“There’s no need to stress yourself out so much, love. We have all been together for so long. Through war and through arguments. But most importantly, we trust each other. To respect each other, to love and take care of you,” Gavriel said.

You wiped at the tears trailing down your cheeks. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, honey,” Fenrys said sympathetically. He moved closer to you and Gavriel on the couch, taking your hand in his and kissing the top of it. “We’re sure. I hate seeing you so upset.”

Rowan moved from his seat to crouch in front of you. “You don’t need to worry about the logistics of it. You let us take care of that. Take care of you, you understand?”

You nodded. “Okay,” you whispered.

It felt like you could breathe for the first time in months. It was overwhelming knowing that all four of these males wanted you, but most importantly, were willing to share you. Because like Fenrys said, why choose?

[utterlyotterlyx]

A Ballad of Storm and Shadow

Azriel x F!Reader

Part Six

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

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

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Shadowsinger didn’t answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you see it?

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

Yes.

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

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

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

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

“It’s happened before?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So, you seek to protect her?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/N-"

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

Y/N visibly relaxed.

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

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

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

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

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

Because they had both lost a parent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Author's Note

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

Taglist

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[throneofsapphics]

the arrangement 

Rowan/Lorcan/Fenrys x Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What we give you,” Fenrys corrected. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The perfect little toy,” Rowan agreed. 

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[thehighladywrites]

Throne of glass characters x reader, sending them lingerie pics

summary: you send them pics of your new lingerie

warnings: suggestiveness, mdni

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

for my wife: @rowaelinsdaughter 💗

[erisvansserra]

Follow You

Fenrys x Reader x Azriel

Summery: 30 years ago, Y/N fell through a portal and woke up in Prythian naked an afraid. She counted herself lucky that she was found by the shadowsinger and his high lord, who took her in and gave her a home. Despite their hospitality she dreamed of her home and the mate she left behind, Fenrys, who searched for her until one day.. he finds her.

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: OMG thank you SOOOO much for all the love! This chapter is going to be a LOONG one because I wanted to give you guys more Fenrys and y/n! enjoy!!

Warning: a little smutty

80 years before the fall.

Cold wind bit at your bare neck as you exited Rowan's war tent, he sat down besides the opening, polishing a sword casually, his eyes transfixed on the process.

"Good morning" you greeted, stretching your arm above your head as you surveyed the war camp before you. Men, horses and a sea of tents lay at your feet creating an electric atmosphere that you reveled in before a fight, however you weren't going to war this time. "Morning y/n" Rowan grunted as he flipped the sword in his hand, studying his work before he started buffing the handle "it's starting to snow, put on something warmer" he continued his eyes still homed in on his hands. You furrowed your brow and looked down at your cousin, his long white hair whipping around the back of his neck as the wind tangled in his locks. With a flick of your fingers your power surged forward, ice covered Rowan's sword, encasing it in a blue frosted glow. " I was born with ice in my veins" you say smugly, your eyes traveling past him to the training pit to the east of his tent " you forget I don't feel the cold like you do" you state as your eyes land on a tall male you have never seen before. His golden hair shone brightly in the sun, his tanned skin was slick with sweat or melted snow as a feral grin spread across his face. " Who. Is. That?" you asked your cousin, whose green eyes finally left the handle of his sword and traveled to the training pit where Gavriel was training with the unnamed male. "Nobody" he grumbled " I think I'll go intodruce myself" you say and begin walking towards the pit, knowing full well your overprotective cousin was a shadow against your back, walking with you in stoic silence. As your boots hit the outer rim of the training pit your eyes were locked onto the unknown male, gods he was beautiful. His onyx eyes didn't leave Gavriel's as they sparred, his muscled chest and torso captivated you as it glistened in the morning sun. He pivoted and danced around Gavriel's advancing sword. You felt Rowan's looming presence behind you, casting a large shadow over your frame as your eyes tracked the male in front of you. Gavriel whirled, his sword meeting the other males in a loud clash of iron on iron, the unknown male smiled and twisted left his sword nicking Gavriel's sleeve before the older male turned and kicked the younger male in the chest sending him to the ground. Gavriel held up a hand then motioned for the young man to stand and grab some water. "Do not.. say anything stupid" Rowan growled softly in your ear as the two males walked over "I won't embarrass you cousin, now shut up and introduce me". " Hello y/n" Gavriel greeted as he walked towards you, his shirt clung to his torso with sweat. "Hello Gavriel, are you well?" you asked sweetly looking up to your ex-trainer. When you were younger, Rowan had asked Gavriel to take over your training so you could learn to fight in your animal form. Gavriel being a mountain lion and you being a panther, his training was specially focused on all the ways to bring down the enemy while taking advantage of your animal's strength. "As well as I can be" he answered giving you a warm smile, you didn't even notice the two males that walked to either side of Gavriel. Your eyes darted the male from earlier and a equally as good looking brunette as they joined your conversation. Gavriel's smile widened as he saw the look on your face, his eyes darting up to look at Rowan, who you knew was frowning behind you. The golden haired male gave you a small smile, his onyx eyes raking up your body before meeting your eyes " I don't believe we've met" he said taking a step forward and offering his hand " I'm Fenrys". You placed your hand in his, your breath hitching in your throat as he clasped your fingers between his own and brought the back of your hand to his lips. Rowan growled from behind you and crossed his arms over his chest as he stared down Fenrys. "I'm Y/n" you said more breathlessly than you intended, Fenrys ignored Rowans warning growl and gestured to the male next to Gavriel " this is my brother Connall, but believe me, he isn't as fun as I am" Fenrys said with a smirk that created butterflys in your stomach.

"If you're done" Rowan bit out from behind you " I think y/n and I were going out for a ride" he continued as his hand grips your forearm and pulls you away from the three males. Your head whips from your cousin to the three males, you catch Gavriel trying to suppress his smile as he watched Rowan tug you towards the waiting horses. For the next few days you didn't see much of Fenrys, stolen glances as you passed each other in camp or across the fire from dinner. On this particular night you sat next to Rowan as the cadre told war stories in front of a booming fire on the outskirts of camp. Gavriel had made a vegetable soup for the group, that you drank down in three mouthfuls. Training made you incredibly hungry. You tried to keep your eyes on Lorcan as he told the same boring story again of how he saved Rowan from certain death over a century ago. But your eyes kept finding Fenrys's from across the dancing flames. His onyx eyes looked like burning coals as the fire lapped at his features, his golden skin features shadowed in darkness as the fire fluttered before him. You quickly looked away to your cousin, Fenrys, who was starting to revel in how nervous he made you looked back to Lorcan and pretended to pay attention. " The pup keeps looking at me" you said quietly to your cousin as he brought his bowl to his lips with one hand and drank the rest of his soup. "I've noticed" he grunted in his usual tone as he set the bowl at his feet. " Don't be grumpy, I'm freaking out... should I go talk to him?" you ask, your eyes slightly widening as you looked to your cousin for guidance. He, however looked at you like you had asked the stupidest question in the world. "Don't be stupid, let's not forget the drama you caused when you slept with Vaughan" he said straightening his back again and resting his elbows on his knees. "Oh, that was like 25 years ago... you and he need to get over it" you said with a swipe of your hand dismissing that ungracious comment. " You almost killed him when you caught him with that girl" Rowan jested, a small smile forming on his face as he recalled ripping you off Vaughan, your knife so close to the warriors neck you had just nicked it. You smiled in return and allowed a small chuckle to escape your lips " I think that was your proudest moment" you said, leaning over and handing Rowan a cup of wine that had been served with dinner. His smile grew as he took the cup from your fingers and held it between his own, the fire light dancing in his green eyes as he hummed in response.

The conversation died between the two of you, it wasn't long before the males that sat around the fire retired to bed. Gavriel's hand ruffling your hair affectionately as he walked past you to his tent and went to rest. You were on guard duty until the sun peaked its head over the horizon, then someone would take your place and you would be able to rest before the camp moved further down its path to war.

Only no one came to relieve you, so you sat all night and morning on guard. When time came to leave, Rowan used it as a training tactic, earning glares from the rest of the cadre, save Lorcan who thought it was a great idea. You were on a dirt road by midday, the gravel crunching under your boots as you walked next to Rowan and his horse, the army of 10,000 strong fae warriors around you marching to war. The cold wind bit at your face and hands as your cousin muttered comments about how sloppy you've gotten, that in the past you could stay up all night and run 10 miles on no rest. You ignored him, your body aching and your eyes threatening to close at any given moment. " Jog up to Gavriel and then back" Rowan ordered with a dip of his chin, you threw your head back and audibly groaned "Rowan I am tired" you said with a pained voice " I need to rest".

"Like I care" he huffed and used his boot to push you into a jog, you scowled back to him and started your slow, pained jog to Gavriel's black mare. When you reached him, you rested your hand on his calf startling the fae warrior slightly "Gods you look like shit" he muttered casting his gaze back to Rowan. " I feel like it" you muttered back, your steps becoming sloppy as you tried to keep up with his horse. Gavriel's eyes looked down to you and softened, he lifted his fingers to his lips and whistled to Fenrys who was on his white stallion up-ahead. The white wolf looked over his shoulder and saw you, his eyes lit up as he turned his horse and trotted down the line, flanking your other side. You didn't register what was happening until you felt Fenrys's hand under your arm, ripping you onto his saddle and against his chest. Suddenly, you were no longer tired, your eyes practically popped out of your head as you felt his strong chest pressed against your back. "uhh" you said trying to find some words to say but they escaped you, you were just happy Fenrys couldn't see how red your face had turned at his touch. But Gavriel did, he smiled brightly at you as you made eye contact with your ex-trainer. His eyes darting up to Fenrys before instructing him " make sure the princess gets some rest, when there is a fork in the road wake her up so she may continue her journey". Gavriel's eyes landed on you again, he reached over and placed a gentle hand on your knee before whispering "you're welcome" and riding off to take the spot in the group Fenrys left free. "You can relax princess, I won't bite" Fenrys purred as he leaned down, his breath tickling the back of your neck. You hadn't realised how rigged you were, your hands balled into fists on your lap, your posture straight and narrow like you were at court. With a shuddering breath you eased into Fenrys, pressing the back of your head against his shoulder as his hand came across your front and tucked you closet to him, his other hand holding the reigns of his horse. "So" he said after a little while, noticing you hadn't fallen asleep yet " If you're not going to war with us, where are you going?" he asked, his onyx eyes looking down at you as you rested against him. You pointed a delicate hand to the mountain range ahead of you, his eyes followed and flared in surprise when he noted your destination. " When my father died and my mother was unfit to take care of me anymore, I went to live with Rowan and my aunt and uncle" you explained " my father was buried in his village with his father and his father before him, I'm going to visit" "Do you visit your father's grave often?" "As often as I can"

You felt Fenrys nod against you taking in your story. "Do you miss them? your parents?" He asked carefully, his voice soft and tentative. "Yes, but... my aunt and uncle raised me... so it is them I miss more" You confess as you look up to the fae warrior pressed against your back. He looked down at you, his eyes soft and inviting as waited for you to continue. "Rowan however, when he leaves for war, I miss him the most... he is the reason I'm as strong as I am" you confess and rip your eyes away from his own, closing them as the shade of the upcoming forest started to cover you. Offering enough darkness to lull yourself to sleep. " Don't tell him though, he gets weirdly sentimental when I say stuff like that" you say while trying to stifle a yawn that slipped past your lips anyways. You felt Fenry's arm tighten around you, felt his body shift further back on his saddle to give you enough room, to make you comfortable. "I won't, get some rest, i'll wake you up when it's time" he said, his thumb drawing small circles on your hip where it rested, if you were less tired you might have blushed at his touch. The casualness of it, how natural it felt, but sleep took over. When you awoke you were in your fathers village, your head whipping from left to right as you took in your surroundings making sure you saw everything right. You felt Fenrys chuckle against your back, then he patted your thigh and jumped off the horse. "What.. How?" You asked, still atop the white stallion looking down at Fenrys with furrowed brows laced with confusion. He smiled softly up at you and dug his hands into his pockets. " I asked Gavriel where the village was, I didn't want to wake you" he said casually, his charcoal eyes never leaving yours. You were speechless, you gawked down at him in shock as you mulled over his words. He had ridden 3 hours away from the group, to let you sleep, to make sure you got enough rest before you spent time at your father's grave, you couldn't do anything to stop the blush from spreading across your cheeks. "Well I guess I'll see you around" he said kicking some gravel at his boot and turning back down the road. You watched him and shook your head, then before your eyes a bright light exploded on the road, where a man stood before a white wolf took its place. "Fen!" You called to the wolf that stopped and looked over its shoulder, you kicked the horse and turned it so you could face him " what about your horse?" you asked, bending forward and gesturing to his white stallion that huffed white smoke as the cold of the village air started to seep in. The wolf's eyes darted from the horse to you, casually it reached both its paws forward, stretching out its back with a small grunt, then without another word it padded back down the road. The unspoken words were as clear as day, he wanted you to keep it until you returned home.

5 Years Later

Travel the world, it was the one thing your aunt and uncle told you numerous times in your life. Then one day you packed up a bag and Fenrys's borrowed horse and started a solo journey though the wild. You had been gone a year now, you had sent letters to your family, Rowan included and got responses when you were in one place long enough.

But tonight, under the summer solstice moon you swam freely in the ocean, the waves lobbing you from side to side like a ship out at sea. You heard crunching on the sand, looking to the shore you spotted a white wolf, its nose imbedded in the clothes you had left in the sand, sniffing your scent. "Fenrys?" You called from the waves, catching the wolfs attention. It's ears pricked up as he sighted you in the waves, your white long sleeve shirt clinging to your bare skin as you bobbed up and down in the water. With a flash of light the wolf became a man, your breath got caught in your throat as he smiled at you from shore. His hair was long and wild, somehow, his body became more muscular in the time he was away, probably from all the fighting you thought to yourself. "What are the chances I would find you here?" He called, bringing his hands next to his mouth, cupping his lips so his voice would travel to you. You smiled and lifted a hand out of the water, gesturing to the sack of wine you had left with your belongings. " Want to join me pup?" you asked, tilting your head to the side in challenge, the wine in your system and your brooding cousin being away making you more confident around him. Fenrys raised his eyebrows as a slow charming smile spread across his face, he reached down and took the sack of wine, unscrewing it he brought it to his lips and drank deeply before tossing it back onto the sand. " I don't have a change of clothes" he shouted with a smile as he started to loosen the stings of his tunic and make his way closer to the lapping waves of the ocean. "Neither do I" you shouted back, walking closer to him as the waves pushed you along "I'm just in my under shirt" you said, a little more seductively than you intended. Fenrys's fingers fumbled slightly at your words, he looked back to your belongings, a fire raring in his ears as he spotted your bra amongst your belongings. His breath evened out, a pool of fire igniting in his stomach as he ripped his shirt off with one hand, not bothering to take off his trousers he ran into the ocean and dove beneath the waves. He emerged in front of you, his bare chest so close to you, you could see the goosebumps rising as the cold water washed over him. You smiled up at him as his eyes connected with your own, the alcohol in your blood begged you to touch him, to feel him under your touch but you knew better than to tangle with a member of the cadre. Fenrys was fighting the same internal battle, he couldn't help his wandering eyes as he stared at you from under the moonlight, your skin giving off a heavenly glow that he wanted to lose himself in. He could see your peaked nipples from under your white shirt, the cold of the water making them so tight he almost bent down to push his warm tongue against them. "So" you breathed, biting your cheek nervously " how have you been?" you ask as you kick your legs from under you. "I've been well, I heard you've been traveling?" he asked as he swims a little closer to you, the moonlight not hiding the blush from him this time. "Yeah, it's been nice just me and your horse" you say smiling.

"Ah yes, my stallion... I hope he is treating you well"

"As loyal to me as a war horse can be" you answer brushing some hair away from your face that the waves keep bringing forward. Fenrys hums in response, that intoxicating smirk plastered on his lips once more as he turns his head to look back to shore. Your eyes widen as you see the two scars that rake down the side of his face, without hesitation you reach up and run your thumb along his jaw, feeling the scars indentations in his skin. His eyes shoot back to you as you take in his wounds that stretched from the corner of his eye and down his jaw. "What happened?" you breathed. "Just got distracted during a fight, not a big deal" he shrugged as he reached behind you, forcing you to stand closer to him in the water. His smirk widened into a predators smile as he held you against him, now your skin pebbled in goosebumps. Your hand that rested on his face traveled down and found home on his chest, his heart racing behind his rib cage so hard you could see your hand moving. "You know, i've heard this bay is littered with sirens" he said, his head cocking to the side as his hands rested on your hips " beautiful women that beckon men into the sea and have their way with them before drowning them beneath the depths of the water" he said warmly, a slight look of challenge in his eyes. "Do you think I am a siren Fenrys? A woman who calls men to the sea to have my way with them?" You asked, taking that small step closer to him. You yelped in surprise as his hands that once rested on your hips now firmly held your thighs, wrapping them around his waist as he picked you up. His eyelids lowered slightly, your breasts he was so longing to taste now out of the water and on full display before him. He kept one hand on your backside while the other traced up your back and tangled in your wet hair, moving you slightly so he could leave warm kisses on your skin. "I hope so" he purred into your neck as he kissed you. You felt his member grow as it pressed against you, a moan escaped your lips as you felt his hand travel to your breast and lightly pinch your nipple. Your mind raced, you didn't know what you expected when you invited him out here but it wasn't this... not that you were mad. His lips moved from your neck up to your jaw then just before your lips met his, his eyes shot wide and he dropped you taking a few steps back. Confused you reached forward and went to touch him, but he batted your hand away. Hurt, that's what you were, that's how this night would end with you being hurt. "Fenrys?" you asked, trying to gage him as he turned his back to you, his shoulders moving deeply with each breath he took. He looked over his shoulder at you, his onyx eyes locked on yours as he pressed a hand to his forehead. Then in that moment the bond snapped, like a rope that tied you two together by your ribs. You gasped and almost fell backwards in the water but you regained your balance. "This is not good" Fenrys muttered as he turned to face you again. "Excuse me?" you asked with a slight tremor in your voice, still shocked that the mating bond had snapped so suddenly. He raised his hands defensively and walked toward you, the water rippling around him as he strode effortlessly to you in the waist deep water. " That's not what I meant... It's... It's just" he fumbled his words, his hands reaching up to cup your face in the moonlight. His eyes flicked between your own as you stared at each other a mixture of disbelief and confusion etched onto each face as you peered into each others souls. "My.. role with Maeve" he said through gritted teeth like the very words he uttered were poison " is... complicated, if she knew y/n who you are to me, she will kill you" he said quietly. Your eyes widened as you tried to step out of his touch but his hand tightened keeping you still " we can reject the bond now" he offered "you don't have to offer me food or your word, we can break the bond and you won't live in danger" he said quickly, his heart

rate so fast and hard he thought he might pass out. The way he looked at you, the memories with him came flooding back, the way he kissed your hand, the way he let you rest against him, the way he stole glances across the many fires you sat at. Over the years it had been known you two had developed a crush on each other, much to Rowans dismay but now it made sense. He was your mate, from this day until your last day. "No" you said, he went to speak but you held up a hand and stopped him " the gods brought us together, that bitch you work for doesn't scare me" you stated and removed his hands from your cheeks. "I won't accept the bond until the time is right, but if you're okay with it, fen, I'd like to see where this goes" you said.

Surprised by your words, he smiled and bent down. His lips tasted like the salt water that surrounded you both, you wrapped your arms around his neck as his tongue swept your lower lip. You smiled against him then pulled away. "Don't get too excited pup, you can buy me dinner first" you smirked as you began to walk back to shore. "You didn't care a second ago when your legs were trembling against me" he jested as he came up behind you. You rolled your eyes and walked towards the shore. Fenrys let you use his discarded shirt, still dry and covered in sand as he picked up the rest of your belongings and walked you back to the cabin you were staying in. He didn't stay the night as he still had work to do, he didn't even kiss you goodbye, but you knew in your gut this was the right choice.

You waved as you parted ways, the moon casting his shadow onto the dirt road. A/N: Here it issss, I hope you liked it and you aren't missing Azriel too much hahha, he will be back next chapter I just really wanted to show fen some love

[shadowdaddies]

Here's my Throne of Glass masterlist! I'll keep my posts linked here🩶

✨= fluff

❤️‍🔥= smut

💧= angst

💥 = action (ka-pow!)

Manon

❤️‍🔥My Girl (Manon x Reader)

✨Roar of the Wind (Manon x Reader)

✨Lead the Way (Manon x Reader)

💧✨ Balance (Manon x Reader)

💧✨Beloved (Manon x Reader)

💧✨ In Your Corner (Manon x Reader)

✨Lift Me Up (Manon x Reader)

✨Golden (Manon x Reader)

Dorian

💧✨❤️‍🔥King's Queen (Dorian x Reader)

💧✨❤️‍🔥 Masquerade (Dorian x Reader)

❤️‍🔥Phantom Touch (Dorian x Reader)

💧✨Distraction (Dorian x Reader)

✨The Bet (Dorian x Reader)

❤️‍🔥NSFW Headcanons

Aelin

✨All I Want for Yulemas (Aelin x Reader)

Aedion

❤️‍🔥Serenity (Aedion x Reader)

Asterin

✨Taking Flight (Asterin x Reader)

❤️‍🔥Get a Room (Asterin x Reader)

✨Getting Lost (Asterin x Reader)

✨Keeping Secrets (Asterin x Reader)

❤️‍🔥Stress Relief (Asterin x Reader)

❤️‍🔥One Bed (Asterin x Reader)

Vesta

✨New Beginnings (Vesta x Reader)

Gavriel

💧✨Always Yours (Gavriel x Reader)

✨Mine (Gavriel x Reader)

❤️‍🔥Every Part (Gavriel x Reader)

Fenrys

❤️‍🔥Wild Things (Fenrys x Reader)

✨Anywhere (Fenrys x Reader)

💧💥 ✨Reunited (Fenrys x Reader)

↳ Part 2 Part 3

💧✨Hope Reborn (Fenrys x Reader)

Lorcan

✨Flawless (Lorcan x Reader)

❤️‍🔥So Lorcan DID (Lorcan x Reader)

✨When You’re Sick Headcanons

Elide

💧✨❤️‍🔥Solstice Confessions (Elide x Reader)

Poly Fics

✨Protective Instincts (Rowaelin x Reader)

✨Puppy Love (Rowaelin x Reader)

✨Get Clean (Rowaelin x Reader)

✨Better Mood (Manorian x Reader)

💧✨❤️‍🔥Attention, Please (Manon x Reader x Asterin)

✨ Cold Hands, Warm Heart (Manon x Reader x Asterin)

✨Any Excuse (Asterin x Reader x Sorrel)

✨Lucky Me (Asterin x Reader x Vesta)

✨We Have Now (Elorcan x Reader)

💧Meant to Be (dark!Manorian x Reader)

↳ Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

the beautiful dividers on my blog are by saradika-graphics

[randomfanboi]

Me seeing there's no Throne of Glass Male reader content

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Send out an army to find you

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

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

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

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[danikamariewrites]

Locked Away

Cadre x reader

Note: I’ve neglected these poor boys omg. Writing for the Cadre is one of my favorite poly ships to write for because they are such a challenge for me. I’m proud of the two fics I have for them and I’m happy to add to the Cadre library this week.

Day 6 of @polysjmweek is Courage! Standing up to Queen Maeve with your loves doesn’t go as planned. To save them and stall for time you do the only thing you can think of. Making the ultimate sacrifice.

Warnings: injured Gavriel, mentions of death, angst

“You dare go against me!” Maeve screeches from the dais. “And you,” she points, your face immediately turning as pale as the owl that sits by Maeve’s side. “You traitor! Stealing them from me!” Lorcan shields you from the fae queen as she rages.

It was only a matter of time before she discovered what was going on. All it took was one tiny slip up. One shared look of love between you and Fenrys.

“I gave you everything! Honor, a place in this world, you would all be nothing without me. And what do I get in return? Nothing!” Maeve spits. You see them all wince at her anger. The look in their eyes breaks your heart in two. Torn between their loyalty to the Queen and knowing her manipulation tactics.

���My Queen-” Gavriel is cut off by another scream of rage from Maeve. Her power lashes out, hitting Gavriel in the chest and knocking him to the ground. His body bounces and flips across the stone floor. You let out a scream, rushing to his side to make sure he’s still breathing.

Dropping to your knees you call out his name. He turns onto his back with a groan. Gavriel’s large hand gently holds yours. “I’m ok, love.” He gives you a smile, wincing at the pain jolting through his ribs.

Tears prick your eyes. Panick rising in your chest as Maeve becomes more and more erratic. “Stop it!” Your scream shocks the room into a tense silence. Lorcan gives you a pleading look that you’ve never seen before, making your heart clench. Rowan and Fenrys look at each other with fear in their eyes. Both males step to block you from Maeve’s view.

You pull yourself up to your full height. Squaring your shoulders, staring the queen in her cold, angry eyes. A wicked smile curves Maeve’s dark painted lips. Her dark eyes sparkling. You can practically see the cruel thought forming in her mind.

“Her life or yours.” She smiles looking at each male.

They freeze. Shock and horror painting their usually stoic faces. Fenrys is the first to break the tense silence. “NO!” Maeve turns her lethal smirk on the youngest of the Cadre. His chest heaves as Fenrys takes in panicked breathes. His dark eyes darting from you to the queen.

Fenrys gains his confidence, yelling his demands at her. Rowan and Lorcan start yelling as well. Protesting whatever Fenrys is saying. Or what Maeve is saying. You don’t know. You can’t hear anything over your heart beating in your ears. Tears prick your eyes. Lowering your head to rest on Gavriel’s chest you let out a sob. He brings his hand to your back, rubbing soothing circles across your spine. “It’s ok,” he whispers. “It’s going to be ok.”

At his words you stop sobbing. There is only one way things are going to be ok. One way to stall for time. You press a soft kiss to Gavriel’s cheek. “I love you.” you tell him. Standing to face Maeve again.

“Y/n, no. What are you doing?” Gavriel tries to stand but the pain is too much for him. He watches helpless from the ground as you walk past the others.

Dropping to your knees before Maeve the males fall silent. You look up to find Maeve staring at you all too pleased with herself.

“Y/n,” Lorcan hisses. “Y/n get up.” you ignore him.

“Making the decision for them?” Maeve asks with a lilt in her voice. You take in a shaky breath not balking from her stare. “What if I take their place? Let them go and keep me here.”

“Oh? And do what with you, my dear?” She asks in a mocking tone. You swallow hard. Getting your words out before you change your mind. “Anything,” you get out quickly. “Serve you. Kill for you. Whatever you desire. Just please, spare them.”

Maeve seems to consider your proposal for a moment. She lets out a hum, gripping your chin. “I have a better idea. You will serve me but you won’t go back to your rooms. Yes, the dungeons will do for you from now on. The males will stay my warriors but,” she booms, looking at them again, “Her wellbeing depends on your performance. If I sense an ounce of disobedience y/n will suffer the consequences. Do I make myself clear?” Before any of them can protest you accept the new deal. “Excellent.” Maeve purrs.

She waves guards forward from the shadows. “Show y/n to her new accomodations.” you stand, going with guards willingly. Your loves can only watch as you’re dragged away with pained looks. Fenrys has angry tears rolling down his tan cheeks. Rowan looks like he’s about to break down, leaning on Lorcan to keep from collapsing to his knees. Lorcan doesn’t look like he’s breathing. The only movement from him is his dark eyes tracking you.

You look to Gavriel one last time. He stares back in disbelief, clutching at his ribs, helpless.

The guards shove you against the back wall. Your cheek scraping against the rough stone. They slam the metal door, the lock making a teeth grinding scraping sound as it slides into place.

Sliding down the wall you bring your knees to your chest. Your sobs coming back full force as you fall apart. The reality of what you’ve just done crashing into you.

[moonlitstoriess]

Across the Universe-ch.11 (Fenrys x Reader)

Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terrasen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.

See masterlist

Y/n stirred awake slowly, feeling the warmth of a late afternoon filtering through the curtains. For a moment, she was disoriented, unsure of where she was. Then the events of the previous couple of days flooded back: the battle in the woods, Fenrys being injured, the ugly creature, and their vulnerable moment together in her room.

She shifted slightly and felt the weight of Fenrys' arm draped over her waist. He was still asleep, his breathing steady and deep. The scratches on his body seemed less angry in the soft morning light. Y/n gently turned her head to look at him, taking in the lines of his face, the way his brows softened in sleep, and the slight crease of pain that lingered on his features.

With a sigh, she realized how peaceful and content she felt in this moment, lying close to him. Despite the turmoil around them, there was a sense of serenity that she hadn't felt in a long time. Fenrys had always been strong, fierce, and protective, but seeing him vulnerable like this, trusting her enough to let his guard down, touched something deep within her.

Carefully, so as not to disturb him, y/n shifted closer, her head resting against his chest where she could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arm tightened around her instinctively, pulling her closer in response. She felt safe, cherished even, in this simple gesture.

As they lay there intertwined, the world outside seemed to fade away. Y/n knew they couldn't stay like this forever, that reality would soon come crashing back in. But for now, in the quiet intimacy of the morning, they found solace in each other's presence.

Eventually, Fenrys stirred awake, blinking his eyes open slowly. When he saw her looking at him, a soft smile spread across his face. "Good morning," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep but filled with warmth.

"Morning," y/n replied softly, returning his smile. She couldn't help but feel a flutter of happiness in her chest, a sense of gratitude for this moment they shared.

She shifted slightly, stretching out her stiffened limbs. Fenrys remained beside her, his presence a comforting weight against her side. The events of the previous day replayed in her mind like a vivid dream—encountering the Valg-spawned creature, the frantic chase through the woods, and finally, finding solace in each other's embrace.

Fenrys stirred again, his eyes meeting hers with a mix of concern and relief. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice still tinged with the remnants of sleep.

Y/n couldn't help but smile faintly at his question. "Better, now that I'm not alone," she replied honestly. Despite the physical and emotional toll of the recent events, being with Fenrys brought her a sense of calm and reassurance she hadn't realized she needed.

He nodded silently, his gaze lingering on her face as if trying to read her thoughts. "I'm sorry," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret.

Her brows furrowed in confusion "What for?"

Fenrys sighed, his expression clouded with a mixture of emotions. "I just wish I could have protected you better," he murmured, his eyes searching hers for understanding.

"You did," y/n insisted earnestly. "You saved me back there, in the woods. If it weren't for you, my throat would have already been ripped out."

He turned his head towards the ceiling and closed his eyes, displaying his thick and tan neck to her, "You don't understand, these creatures....they are just newer forms of the ones that we fought against during the war. The Valgs are clearly creating new ones and this was just a warning to us. You probably never even saw such things in Prythian so now, you are also caught up in all this mess-"

"Fenrys, my world had even worse than whatever you all have here. I am pretty sure these monsters are nothing new to me."

His eyes popped open as he turned to her with a surprised expression "Really?"

Y/n giggled and said, "Yes! I mean, we had the Attor who was this disgusting thing that could fly, Feyre ended up killing it. Then, we had naga and the naga-hound who were slightly similar to what we saw yesterday. We also have Kelpies and Puca. But....worst of all was the Middengard Wyrm. I never saw it in real life but Rhysand did and from what he showed me through his memories, it was horrible. It's like this huge worm, the size of a whole mountain, with sharp and large teeth. Ironically, Feyre also fought against that and guess what? she won!! Everyone except Rhys thought that she would die but, she proved them all wrong."

Fenrys just stared at her with an amused gaze as he said, "Seems like your Feyre is a lucky one if she survived that."

Y/n sighed, her eyes going distant, to her memories with her once high lady "Yes, yes she is. Rhys is lucky to have her as a mate."

She noticed Fenrys tug her hair behind her ear as he whispered "Have you met your mate yet? If not, would you like one?"

At that, her expression turned sour as she pondered over his questions for a minute. She thought that Azriel was her mate. That them being together this long meant that at some point, that bond would snap. That because she loved him endlessly and thought that he felt the same, they were destined to be.

Of course, those thoughts were prior to Azriel ripping her heart out and crushing it in his hands. Now, she despises that word. Her heart has been completely shattered for anyone else. Y/n knows that she isn't destined for a happy end. She never was. That's why she vowed herself to never open up her heart, her soul, to anyone again. So, even if in the slim chance that she did have a mate and he or she ended up falling from the skies right onto her path, even if the Mother herself would tell her that 'this is your mate', y/n would just turn around and walk away.

It seems like she knew her answer.

Y/n's mood changed as she just got into a sitting position and said, "We should get up. They are probably worried about us."

Fenrys shifted to sit up, wincing slightly as he moved. "Y/n-"

Y/n watched him with concern, her hand lingering on his arm. "You should rest," she suggested gently. "Let me get Isolde—"

Fenrys shook his head, interrupting her. "I'm fine," he insisted, though the tightness around his eyes betrayed his words. "Just a few scratches."

Y/n frowned, unconvinced, but she nodded reluctantly. "Alright," she relented, knowing he was as stubborn as she was when it came to injuries.

Just then Eva burst into the room with Manon in tow as she came running at them.

"We heard noises and thought you two were awake!"

Y/n smiled at the younger girl as she just nodded her head and let Manon gently help her get off the bed.

At the noise, Aedion and Lorcan came in also helping Fenrys who was still skeptically glancing at the latter.

Aedion had a smirk on his face as he said out loud while leading Fenrys towards the door with Lorcan, "Seems like you two had quite the nap."

Manon shut him up before y/n could with a "Just take him and leave, blondie."

Everyone but Aedion laughed at the nickname as the males took Fenrys out of the room, y/n casting a final glance at his back before he disappeared.

Manon looked at Eva and said with a soft voice, "Go get the bath ready. She stinks."

The girl just laughed and nodded before going to the washroom.

When y/n looked back at the witch, she smelled....oh Gods "Seven hells, you stink of sex! And you say I stink?"

Manon blushed. She actually blushed as a pinkish tint overtook her pale cheeks.

"Can you blame me? I haven't seen him in.....three months."

Y/n couldn't hide the cheshire grin that was growing by the minute on her face as Manon sat her down on the chair near the vanity, slowly renewing her bandages as she said, "Oh really? How romantic, you two should definetly get married already."

Manon just smirked slightly "We'll see about that. What about you and your mate?"

When she saw y/n's frustrated expression, Manon quickly corrected herself, "I meant, I think he is your mate? I- Aelin told me you had someone like that, apparently he was going crazy over finding you."

Y/n just sadly shook her head, "No, he was my lover but not mate. Found his mate 50 years into our relationship and instead of telling me, cheated on me with her for two years while ignoring me. That caused me to have panick attacks and go back into my old habits which were.....not good so I don't want to talk about it. While this was happening, the rest of the family did nothing. No one gave me a shoulder to cry on or a presence to atleast vent to. They knew of his secret and didn't tell me either."

She saw Manon's expression go from one of concern and confusion to one of fury and ice as she said in a voice so cold, it made y/n shiver "Those bastards. You know, I would gladly go with you to your world just so I can kill them quickly and then slowly torture Azriel before ending him too."

Y/n just smiled while shaking her head.

"I leave for five minutes and come back to see Manon already plotting someones death."

They both turned their heads to see Eva standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed and glancing between them.

Manon's expression turned playful again as she stuck out her tounge to her while y/n gave a lighthearted laugh at that.

Eva just rolled her eyes with a small smile as she helped y/n get up and led her towards the bathroom with the witch.

When the three of them entered the dining room, they were welcomed by loud noises of everyone arguing.

The food lay forgotten as chaos erupted around the dining table. Rowan stood, his hands raised in a placating gesture, attempting to soothe Aelin who was in a heated argument with Dorian. Yrene shook her head in exasperation, trying to mediate between them. Chaol and Lysandra engaged in their own intense debate, their voices rising above the rest. Aedion, seated nearby, simply nodded along with whatever his wife said, wisely staying out of the fray.

Meanwhile, Lorcan seemed oblivious to the commotion, seizing the opportunity to shower his wife with kisses. Fenrys sat apart on a nearby couch, rubbing his temples with a look of frustration etched on his face.

Y/n heard Manon murmur "Grown ups but still act like damn children." before she gently sat y/n down with Eva's help on the couch opposite to Fenrys and went towards the table "We found an open gate!"

Everyone, including Fenrys and y/n, shut up and looked at the witch with absolute shock.

Dorian and Aedion spoke at the same time "What?! You're lying"

Manon just shrugged and went to take her place on the chair, "Yes, I am lying. Thought shouting this out would make you all finally shut up and come back to your senses."

Aelin just sighed while plopping back down on her chair "Manon, tell your little king to stop doubting every step of my plans."

Dorian just glared at her as he said, "If you call saying 'no' to a foolish idea 'doubting' then you are becoming mad in the head"

That earned him a growl from Rowan but before the silver haired prince could say anything, Eva interfered "What are you talking about?"

Rowan, not taking his eyes off of Dorian, replied, voice etched with frustration, "We are having a ball of sorts for tomorrow evening."

Lysandra just beckoned the girl over to her side with an exasperated sigh "The people are getting suspicious. Some residents said that they heard horrible noises last night, which was clearly because of your fight against the Valg-demon, the monks and sages in the sanctuary actually sent Aelin a letter demanding to know why some of their most ancient books containing dangerous information were used by me and Elide when we went there,"

Yrene filled her cup with water as she added, "Apparently, us all being here is also a cause for concern for many including lord Darrow who is getting really suspicious about us arriving here out of the blue. Not to mention, y/n, you weren't as slick as you thought because you were spotted by some when you flew over the city the other night."

Chaol just looked at his wife with wide eyes "You support their idea? We don't need any extra attention. Hosting this silly little ball for the sake of calming the lords and ladies is just a waste of time AND resources."

Manon just smirked "Actually, it is an amazing idea. Everyone will believe that we are here for this gathering and will therefore, stop worrying and sniffing where they don't belong. We won't have to look over our shoulder every second to see if anyone is suspicious. Especially Darrow."

Lorcan nodded as he looked pointedly at Chaol "It is also a great chance for the Valg's to try something. We can all be on alert and ready to strike if that happens. And then get some answers out of them."

Dorian just shrugged while coming to sit next to Manon "Well, if this woman beside me says that the idea is amazing, who am I to disagree?"

Aelin narrowed her eyes at the young king "Oh, so when I say it, the plan is horrible but when Manon agrees, suddenly the plan is amazing?"

"Exactly" Dorian said as a matter of fact while winking at the blond female.

Aelin was about to retort when Rowan put a hand on her shoulder while announcing to the room "It is decided then. We are having a ball tomorrow."

Dorian then turned his eyes to y/n and got up, coming closer to the couch on which she was sitting in "When Aelin told me that you have wings, I thought she was making things up. Turns out you do truly have wings! Very fascinating, by the way."

Dorian stood right infront of her now, extending his hand out for her to shake and as she took his hand in hers, he said with a blinding smile, "Dorian Haviliard the Second. King of Adarlan and....well, that's all, essentially."

"And Manon's lapdog" Aedion snorted from the table followed by other laughs and chuckles. Dorian just rolled his eyes "Ignore that one, he doesn't realize it but we all see how he follows and does whatever Lysandra says like a lovesick puppy."

Y/n smiled as Lysandra snickered while Aedion scoffed "Nice to meet you, your majesty. I'm y/n y/l/n, from Prythian. Specifically, the Illyrian mountains."

"Please, call me Dorian. I think you and I will get along just fine, y/n. Let's sit down and talk some time, yes?"

"Absolutely, Dorian."

She heard someone clear their throat as both y/n and Dorian looked to see Fenrys, with a blank look directed at the king beside her, say "Well, now that the plan is decided and the introductions are out of the way, can we start eating? I am hungry."

At that, Aelin voiced her agreement as Dorian went back to his place beside Manon and the servants brought food to the low table between y/n and Fenrys.

She would have to thank whoever's idea it was to make them sit on the couches because y/n didn't think she would be comfortable with her injured shoulder, sitting on one of those chairs and neither would the warrior sitting in front of her with his injured torso.

The room buzzed with conversation as they ate, the tension gradually easing with each passing moment. Dorian's voice rose occasionally above the others, regaling them with tales that drew laughter and camaraderie. Y/n found herself relaxing in the company of these extraordinary individuals, each with their own stories and struggles, yet united in their commitment to protecting their world.

But y/n noticed that Fenrys barely even touched his food despite claiming to be starved. She sighed as she took the fork and spoon to her hand, "For someone who said he was hungry, you haven't eaten much."

He just kept playing around with his meal, not eating anything "You two were taking too long with your introductions so I decided to do everyone a favor and end it."

Y/n raised an eyebrow as she took a bite of her meal, deciding to test the waters a bit.

"Well that's just rude Fenrys. I actually quite liked Dorian. I can see why Manon is with him. I mean, just look at that face-"

"One more word, I dare you."

The look on his face told her all she needed to know. Fenrys was jealous. In fact, he was burning with it as he stared her down, his gaze turning darker with each second.

Y/n licked her lips, her gaze never wavering from his as she watched him clench and unclench his hands (which seemed to be a habit of his when he is aroused or angry) while staring at her mouth.

"So, so charming too. The way he talks-"

Fenrys got up abruptly, the action causing a slight wince from him before he slowly started walking out of the room. Y/n got up to go after him but Lorcan beat her to it and as much as she hated the giant man for it, she knew they also had an issue to resolve and talk about.

Deciding to give them their moment, she slowly started heading back to her room, wincing whenever her shoulder would move too much.

"Where do you think you're going all on your own with an injury like that?"

Y/n turned around to see Lysandra slowly walking over to her in the hallway, arms crossed over her chest. The shifter reached her and took her uninjured arm, slowly helping her walk.

"I don't need to be coddled at all times, you know."

Lysandra just smirked but did not remove her hands from y/n's arm "I know, and I also know that the last time you woke up injured from a Valg attack and were left all on you own, you decided to venture out into the city with Nox and get yourself nearly killed by another Valg creation."

Y/n scoffed "You make it sound like I knew that would happen. I had no idea that Nox was even out there!"

Lysandra chuckled quietly as they turned a corner. "I know, I am sorry for ever doubting you. I truly like you now. Your commitment to helping us not only because you want to go home but also because you are worried that the Valg pose as a threat to everyone really made me trust you fully."

Y/n sighed, feeling a mixture of gratitude and guilt. Lysandra's support meant a lot to her, especially given the uncertainties they all faced. She leaned slightly on the shifter for support as they walked through the quiet palace corridors.

"I appreciate that, Lysandra," y/n replied earnestly. "I just... I can't sit idly by when there's a chance to make a difference. And after what happened with Nox, I understand the dangers better. And I think I am beginning to understand Elara's weird words."

Lysandra looked at her with a confused expression "Elara? Who in the Gods name is that?"

Y/n chuckled before replying "This woman who has appeared to me twice. Apparently, she is an iron teeth witch who has given me some very cryptic advice and disappeared before I could get answers to all of my questions. I really am stuck, needing to understand more about my powers and connections to this whole thing. And without her, I don't think I ever will."

She felt Lysandra stiffen beside her and stop abruptly, causing y/n to come to a halt as well. She stared at the ground, her eyes calculating as she seemed to slowly digest all that y/n just told her before whispering a "Maybe you don't even need her for answers."

Before y/n could even question her, the shifter quickly let go of y/n and ran back shouting over her shoulder, "Go to your room and wait for me there!"

Y/n, still very shocked and confused at what just happened, climbed up the last few stairs and headed to her bedchamber.

After around thirty minutes, Lysandra burst into her room with a scroll in her hand and Manon beside her. The second her eyes landed on y/n who was sitting on the couch near the window, she took quick strides to reach her. Once she was in front of the witch, Lysandra kneeled down, sitting on the low table in front of y/n and opening up the scroll. Manon also came to quickly stand beside her as she waited to hear what Lysandra had to say.

"This is an ancient text," Lysandra began, her voice filled with reverence. "It speaks of Elara, an iron teeth witch who lived centuries ago. She was not only powerful but also deeply connected to the magical gates that connect our world with others."

Y/n's breath caught in her throat. "Connected to the gates?"

"Yes," Lysandra confirmed, her eyes scanning the parchment. "Elara's abilities were linked to the gates themselves. She could open and close them at will, wielding their power to protect our realm from threats that sought to cross over."

"Wait. How....how do you know all this? How did you know about this scroll?"

Lysandra just looked at Manon, who was still staring at the shifter with a questioning look in her eyes, as she said, "Because Elara has been a legend in our world for as long as any of us can remember. Isn't that right, Manon? Even your grandmother knew of her."

Manon just crossed her arms, seemingly still questioning her, "I am aware of who Elara is. Even Rhiannon Crochan knew of her. Her name would always be whispered around our camps, our stories. What I don't understand is what you told me on the way, about y/n and Elara. Why is she contacting her? I don't mean this in an insulting way but, she has been known as a legend for so long that it is just unbelievable to hear this."

Y/n opened her mouth to reply but was cut off when Lysandra looked down at the scroll and continued, "Yes. Well, she has not only been a legend to Ironteeth Witches, but to the rest of us as well. I had this scroll with me ever since I can remember. I was just so fascinated with her that when I once came across it in one of the antique stores, I had to have it and with time, I began thinking maybe I was a fool for being so obsessed with her, her existence, thinking if she was real or not but....now I realize how she may be real after all."

Y/n's brows hit her hairline as she just gaped at the female in front of her "So you are telling me that I have talked with the most ancient, the most legendary witch of your world?"

"Maybe not even our world."

Both Manon and y/n looked at the shifter with furrowed brows, urging her to explain more.

"Elara was a legend. Her story though mostly unknown, was one full of bravery and sacrifice. She was a chosen one. Her powers being more than just iron teeth and nails. And her name....her name existed for centuries according to the scroll but...."

Y/n saw the realization dawn upon Manon as the witch beside her shifted her position, her eyes getting wider by the second "No way....Lysandra, if we are thinking the same thing then that- that would be impossible."

What? What was she talking about?

Lysandra just shook her head, a smile forming on her face "Would it though? I mean, her name may have stopped being mentioned in this world, in our books and scrolls but what if she went into another world? She did have that connection with the gates after all."

Manon slowly turned her head to y/n as she whispered, "And what if...."

Lysandra also looked at y/n as she said, "What if she went to Prythian, met a man, male, whatever.....had a child with him. A daughter, to be precise."

Manon added quietly, "A winged male and an iron teeth witch who had connection with the gates, who was a wyrdkey of sorts, to them. What could be the odds?"

Realization started to slowly dawn upon her as y/n just shifted her gaze from one female to the other. She laughed uneasily "No you two surely must be delusional. There is not a chance. No way in the seven hells are you suggesting that-"

"You are Elara's daughter." Both the witch and the shifter say at the same time.

No.

No.

It was impossible.

Was it though? You are an iron teeth witch who has wings and an unusual connection to the gates. It could be the only explana-

"Find Manon. Let her know. And find me again when you are ready."

Those were the words Elara had told her when she first appeared to her in an illusion created by the mirror in the crystal caverns.

She needs to go down there again and talk to her, somehow summon her.

Y/n needed answers and she needed them now.

When she came back from her thoughts, she saw both of them staring at her, one with wide eyes and the other with a knowing smile.

Y/n sighed "I- I need to process this. We can discuss this tomorrow."

Lysandra nodded, still smiling, "Of course, see you in the morning."

Then, she got up and dragged a wide eyed Manon who was stuck to her place, towards the door, closing it behind them.

The second the door was closed, y/n jumped from her position and went towards the hidden passageway in her room, getting a small knife, her lamp and a cloak. She removed the floorboard and began her descent.

She went through the same path as the last time. The same narrow ways, damp roads, circular door and the crystal caverns itself.

That last time felt like a lifetime ago, a time when she was still new to the revelations of her own abilities, still grappling with the mysteries of her lineage and the hidden truths of her past. Now, standing before the circular door once more, she felt a sense of resolve and determination, tempered by the wisdom gained through trials and discoveries.

With a steadying breath, y/n pushed open the door, the faint creak of ancient hinges echoing softly in the cavernous silence beyond. As she stepped into the crystal caverns, bathed in their gentle radiance, she knew that this time, she was not just seeking answers—she was ready to uncover the deeper truths that awaited her.

She took the small narrow road to where the mirror was and now standing before it, she had no idea what to do. Y/n stared and stared some more. She needed to think this through. How do you call Elara? The first time she appeared to y/n was because of an illusion that the mirror created and the second time was when y/n got attacked and fell unconscious later on.

So....what does she do now?

With a sigh, y/n said out loud while looking at her reflection in the ancient mirror, "I know. I know the truth now. You are my mother, aren't you?"

No answer, no reply. Nothing.

She still continued, "When we met for the first time, you told me to come find you when I was ready. I think I am ready now. Ready to see you......mother."

Before she could react, y/n saw as her surroundings become a blur, shifting until she was once more on the beach but this time, instead of the moon, there was the sun shining above, casting its glow over the waters.

And then, there was Elara, coming towards y/n with her white flowy dress and beautiful smile.

When the witch reached y/n, they didn't say anything to one another for a short moment, preferring to just look into one anothers gaze. Elara's eyes held a depth that seemed to reflect the eons she had witnessed, yet they softened with a tenderness as she regarded y/n. The wind whispered through the air, carrying the faint scent of salt and seaweed as they stood on the sun-kissed beach.

"My child," Elara finally spoke, her voice gentle yet resonant with an underlying power. "You have grown strong and resilient, despite the trials fate has woven into your path."

Y/n's tried to hold back her impending tears at the adoring way the woman called her. Instead, she whispered in a quiet tone, "Why....why didn't you tell this to me from the first time? Why did you leave me alone in that cruel place, in that monsters hands? Why wasn't my dad with me either? Why did you abandon me? Why- just why?!"

"My child," Elara began, her voice a gentle breeze that carried both warmth and sadness, "the reasons are not simple, nor are they easy to explain. But know this: every decision I made was out of love for you and a deep understanding of the dangers that surrounded us."

Y/n's eyes welled with tears, but she held Elara's gaze firmly, needing to hear the truth, however painful it might be. "I wish I could have been there with you," Elara continued, her voice soft yet steady. "But there are forces at play that even I cannot fully control. The realm of the Valg, their insidious presence, their hunger for power... It demanded sacrifices, and I made the hardest one of all by leaving you in that world."

"Why didn't you prepare me? Why did you let me believe I was alone?" y/n asked, her voice tinged with hurt.

Elara's expression softened further, regret etching lines on her face. "I wanted to protect you from the knowledge that would burden your heart and soul. I feared that if you knew too soon, it would consume you. And your father..." She paused, a shadow passing over her features. "Your father sacrificed himself to keep you safe."

Y/n's eyes widened with both shock and confusion, "W-what....what do you mean?"

Elara sighed and gently took y/n's hand in hers, caressing it "I fell in love, y/n. Your father and I loved each other so much that we couldn't imagine a life without the other. I thought....I thought that because I was in a different world, I would be able to live a normal life. We got a house in the very otskirts of Illyria, then we had you and you....you were the joy of our life my witchling. For a time, we were happy and at peace, just the three of us. And foolish me thought that this happiness could last forever. Oh how wrong I was."

Elara closed her eyes and inhaled sharply before continuing again, "Somehow, someway, the Valgs found me. Erawan found me. It was in the middle of the night when I felt their presence not so far off from where we used to stay. I quickly woke up your father....Marx, and told him what was going on. He ordered me to take you and run, told me that he would meet us on the edge of the mountains and we would run away together. The three of us. He hugged and kissed both you and me before I ran away with you in my arms while he stayed behind. Little did I know, that would be the last time I would ever see him again."

Elara's eyes were teary now as she gave a sad smile to her daughter "Marx never came. And I knew....I knew that he did not make it. But I had to go back, I had to. I brought this disaster with me. However, I also needed to keep you safe. So, I put you in front of a door of the first proper looking house I could find. I had no time to think, no time to plan. I placed a protective spell over you, kissed and hugged you for one last time, said my blessings over you, and then I was gone. If I only knew what a monster I was giving you to, my witchling. And for that, I am sorry. I am so sorry my heart. But I couldn't let them know that I had a daughter. That I had someone I cared for. Or else, they would have come for you as well, which they seem to be doing now."

Y/n couldn't believe this. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, what her mother was telling her. Her father.....her brave father had secrificed himself to keep his family safe.

With a shaky breath, y/n's grip on her mother's hand tightened as she asked "And did you....did you find him?"

Elara slowly nodded her head, eyes seemingly lost in the terrible memory of finding her lovers body in whatever condition it was. She didn't say more and y/n didn't ask more, seemingly afraid of hearing just how she found his body.

But she did ask, her voice shaky now due to the tears that began to fall, "Where...where did you go? Where are you?"

Elara's eyes softened with sorrow as she gently squeezed y/n's hand. "After I left you, I wandered through dimensions, seeking refuge where the Valg could not reach. I sought allies, learned ancient magics, and built defenses against their relentless pursuit. But with every step I took to protect you, I grew farther from the life I once knew."

She paused, her voice thick with emotion. "Eventually, I found solace in a realm untouched by the Valg's corruption. It is a place where time flows differently, where the energies are harmonious and the darkness cannot penetrate. There, I have been watching over you, my dear, waiting for the right moment."

Elara's gaze was filled with maternal love. "You are stronger than I could have ever imagined, y/n. You carry within you the blood of our lineage, a legacy of resilience and magic. And now, as the Valg threaten once more, you must end them completely. My power of connecting to the gates, connecting with the Book of Breathings is installed in you as well. The book knew that you were my descendant from the moment it fell into Rhysands hands. Even though Erawan is dead, somehow the Valgs are returning. You must figure that out. They felt your presence, your true lineage the second the book transported you."

So much was going on. Y/n had so much to say and ask but all she asked was, "How can I bring you back to me....mother."

Elaras eyes lit up at that before she raised her hands and gently caressed her daughter's cheek "You can not. I waited all this time for you to finally realize who you were, what your destiny was and now....now that I have guided you, it is time for me to go-"

"No! Are you mad?! We just reunited! I can not loose you-"

"You will never loose me, my Braveheart. You will always have me, my presence will always guide you on your journey. But I have lived for so long, it is time for me to rest as well, time to rejoin with my love, your father, Marx."

Y/n was fully crying by now, as she agressively shook her head, "No! Mother, please!"

Elara leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before hugging her and whispering, "Your father and I have loved you from the moment we laid our eyes on you. And we will keep loving you for eternity, our witchling. We are so proud of you, of how strong, resilient, and brave you are. Of how you endured so much and yet came out even stronger. Always remember who you are, what your power is and end them. Once and for all, end them."

And with that, y/n's surrounding began to blur once more as she felt herself falling and falling until her eyes popped open and she was....in her room. Sitting on the bed. Wasn't she in the crystal caverns? How is she here?

But y/n didn't care. Didn't ponder over those questions as the memory of what just happened took over her mind, making her silently weep into her arms.

Fenrys was frustrated. At what? he didn't know.

At whom? He did know. At himself.

He doesn't understand this....this attraction, this pull he has towards y/n. Whenever they are in the same room, his eyes somehow end up on her, his body somehow finds its way to wherever she is. Whenever she is hurt or in danger? He turns into this violent killer who only thinks of one thing: Protect her. Kill everyone else.

It was starting to get frustrating how he felt all kinds of emotions towards her. How his mind began thinking of her.

Last night during dinner, he was annoyed with how Dorian kept on talking to her. Fenrys knew that Dorian didn't see y/n in that way, after all....he had his eyes on the witch and only on her. Even if they both refused it, everyone and their mother saw how those two were hopelessly in love with one another.

So why did he want to punch Dorian in the face when he saw how the king was the one to make her laugh and not him?

And then, during dinner, y/n's teasing just added to his growing frustration and lust. The way she talked, the way she purposefully kept licking her lips made him want to just take her then and there, in front of everyone.

Fenrys knew that this was wrong, that she would leave sooner or later so feeling this possessive, this claiming need within him was just stupid. But could he stop it? No, no he couldn't.

Last night, after he stood up and left, he saw her get up too and he wanted her to follow him. Fenrys knew that if she would follow him, he wouldn't have been able to keep his hands to himself this time. That he would have made his fantasies about her come true. But then, Lorcan came after him and Fenrys saw how y/n contemplated on following him before clearly choosing not to.

He did feel disappointed but that was forgotten the second Lorcan caught up with him and they began walking side by side through the halls of the palace. He had apologized to Fenrys and Fenrys was absolutely shocked that Lorcan of all people was apologizing. Fenrys could have asked for forgiveness as well, for what he did to his lifelong companion but....he felt no guilt or remorse for protecting y/n's honor, for getting justice for her.

Gods, Fenrys, since when have you gone this mad and caused chaos over a female. That's right, never. So why her? Why now?

These were the questions he kept asking himself while going back to the palace after his morning training when he heard another roar. And no, this wasn't Abraxos because he had already memorized the wyvern's noises by heart. This was another wyvern, this was...Fenrys lifted his head skywards as he saw....Petrah Blueblood.

He remembers the witch whom he came to care for. The poor girl went through so much, just like Manon. He remembers how after the war, when he would go to the Witch Kingdom, he would see Petrah who was now Manon's second in command and how she would still mourn the loss of her wyvern, Keelie. Killed by Iskra Yellowlegs.

This wyvern was one of the few who hatched after the war and Petrah was immediately drawn to it. She raised it all on her own and it grew up to be very large. It was also a female whom she named Luna.

But, what was she doing here now? That's when he also saw Manon and Abraxos in the opening, waiting for her and Luna to land.

He approached Manon while Petrah and Luna were still a little bit away, and spoke first, "Well, this is certainly not what I expected to see first thing in the morning."

Manon just crossed her arms, still looking towards wherever Petrah was in the sky, as she replied, "I needed Petrah with us for this hunt. Her wyvern is very good with smell, she has the unique abilitiy to scent things that are miles and miles away. Besides, Petrah said that she had news she wanted to tell me face to face....and maybe she was also curious about y/n."

He saw how at the mention of her name, Manon's face turned amused, how her eyes held a mixture of wonder and pride. She clearly was thinking of something and Fenrys desperately wanted to know what because it involved y/n but just as he was about to ask, Luna landed right next to Abraxos who was seemingly growing smitten with the female wyvern as they rumbled at one another and Petrah came down.

She and Manon exchanged their witchy greeting, whatever that is before Petrah smiled at Fenrys "How nice to see you again."

Fenrys returned her smile with one of his own "Nice to see you doing well, Petrah."

The witch nodded her gratitude before looking back at Manon "One of our witches was somehow working for the Valg, the second I found out about this, I ordered for her capture and questioning, but she wouldn't talk."

Manon just raised an eyebrow "Was she infested with Valg-"

"No. She was working for them, willingly. Why? I don't know."

"Don't tell me you killed her without getting any answers out of her first."

Petrah just smirked at her queen "You are really underestimating me now, Manon. I gave the order for her to be tortured just last night and immediately flew over here to deliver the news. Whatever information the witches get out of her now, they will send the news immediately."

The queen just nodded her head while Fenrys asked, "How did you even find out about this?"

Petrah shrugged her shoulders "I have my ways, wolf."

"There will be a ball tonight, keep your eyes open and alert at all times. Anything might happen."

Petrah nodded at her queen as Fenrys just said his farewell to the witches before heading towards his room for a much needed bath.

Y/n slept through the whole day. The whole day! waking up when it was already sunset. Clearly, all the events of the last fews days have drained her beyond repair. And what she found out about last night.....she cried until she physically couldn't anymore and probably fell asleep.

When she awoke, there was a note right next to her on the bed:

You must be really tired especially after what we told you last night but, if you wake up, remember there is a ball tonight late in the afternoon.

Hope you're well,

Lysandra

Oh, yes! The ball! she completely forgot!

Y/n noticed that there was only an hour until the start of the event and immediately jumped out of her bed, hissing loudly when her shoulder hurt from the movement. But, she quickly recovered and headed towards her closet in search of an appropriate dress.

Fourty minutes later, y/n stood in the center of her room, her hair made and jeweleries shining as she admired her beautiful dress.

The dress was crafted from a flowing, soft fabric like silk, in a shade of deep midnight blue that shimmers subtly under the light. The neckline is modest yet elegant, gently framing the collarbones without revealing too much. The sleeves are three-quarter length, providing coverage while allowing the injured shoulder freedom of movement.

The waist is cinched with a delicate sash, adding a touch of definition without restricting comfort. As the dress cascades down, it drapes gracefully to the floor, accentuating the figure without being form-fitting.

The simplicity of the design is elevated by intricate embroidery along the neckline and cuffs, catching the eye with its understated elegance. This dress not only exudes charm and sophistication but also ensures ease of movement.

With a final look at herself, y/n left her room and descended the stairs, heading towards the event.

Twenty minutes later, the room was filled with people whom, y/n guessed to be very important. When she arrived, she saw most of Aelin's court already here, had a round of drinks with Lysandra and Lorcan, danced a little with Eva and Elide, got on Aedion and Rowan's nerves, watched together with Yrene how Aelin greets her guests, talked a little more with Dorian and Chaol, and met Manon who had another witch next to her, Petrah Blueblood.

She was also very beautiful. Her skin was as pale as Manon's but adorned with freckles, had a long golden, flowy hair and had deep blue eyes. When Manon introduced them, Petrah gave y/n a genuine smile and told her how happy she was to meet her. How y/n was known as a winged ironteeth whom every witch wanted to meet now that Manon mentioned her to them.

Y/n felt honored, grateful but surprised and a little flustered as well as she said her thanks and chatted a little more with the witches before excusing herself in search of someone else. In search of him. She didn't see Fenrys yet but she knew that he was in the room, watching her. She felt his eyes on her once again. Seems like they had this thing where he would watch her and she would put on a show for him.

But then, their eyes met and y/n felt weak in the knees. Fenrys was there, standing in the corner with a drink in his hand, watching her with an intense gaze. He was so handsome, hair put in a half bun, some strands falling in front of his handsome face, his tailored coat of deep midnight blue was interwoven with threads that shimmer subtly under the light. The coat is fitted at the shoulders and chest, tapering slightly at the waist before flaring out slightly over sturdy trousers of the same hue.

Beneath the coat, a high-collared shirt in a lighter shade of blue peeks out, adding a hint of contrast and sophistication. The sleeves of the shirt are gathered at the wrists with intricate embroidery in silver and his boots are sturdy leather, polished to a deep sheen.

He was beyond handsome, beyond attractive. He was otherworldly, seemingly crafted out of the finest form of marble. She really wanted to do less than appropriate things to him right now and from the way his eyes were eating her whole, he was thinking the same.

Y/n was so entranced with him that she failed to notice Nox Owens come and stand beside her, offering her a drink.

"And so we meet again, my partner in hunting Valgs."

She hesitantly pulled her gaze away from Fenrys and turned to loook at the man beside her, taking the drink in his hand while thanking him.

Y/n took a sip of the drink, feeling the cool liquid soothe her parched throat. Nox stood beside her, his posture relaxed yet alert, his eyes scanning the room with a practiced ease.

She said, "Good to see you're doing well."

Nox looked at her, a smirk forming on his handsome face, "Well, if the Valgs want me dead, they have got to try harder than pushing me onto the ground."

"Thank you, for everything Nox, without your help, I don't think we could've survived that monster."

He just shrugged his shoulder and was seemingly about to say something when she felt Fenrys right behind her. His chest was touching her back, causing goosebumps to rise all over her body.

He said behind her, in that voice of whiskey and sin, "I need to talk to you."

Wthout even waiting for a reaction from her or Nox, Fenrys took her drink, put it on the nearby table, grabbed her arm, and dragged her out of the ball.

He found an unusued, dark room and entered it, still holding her by the arm before closing the door. Y/n ripped her arm away from his grip before looking at him, her arms crossed "Fenrys what in the seven hells are you doing?!"

He didn't reply, his gaze just intensified, those wild eyes zoning in on her lips. While that action did a lot of things to her body, y/n was still angry at him.

"Fenrys! Look at me, what is wro-"

Before she could even continue, he took two quick strides to reach her and tilted her face toward him with his fingers.

All the air was sucked out of her body as y/n realized their position. His face was mere inches away from her, their bodies nearly touching, his lips right in front of hers.

He was clearly holding himself back, he was restraining himself. And for some foolish reason, she didn't want him to.

"Kiss me"

Y/n realized her words only a second after she said them, but she wasn't ashamed, no. She wanted this. Wanted him. Tomorrow, tomorrow she would think about her actions, tomorrow she would be a responsible, levelheaded female once more. But just for tonight, in this dark room, this would be their little secret.

Fenrys' eyes widened, his chest heaving, "Y/n..."

"Kiss me, Fenrys."

And he did. He kissed her so quickly, their lips meeting in an urgent collision. It wasn't a soft, loving, intimate kiss. No, it was rough, needy and full of lust. His hand went to her waist, bringing her closer to him, their bodies joined as one, the other held her by the back of her neck, bringing her closer to him.

Y/n's hands were in his hair as she kissed him just as urgently. He pushed her towards the wall, caging her between himself and the stone behind her.

It was during this intense moment that a nock came on the door.

"Y/n? Are you there? Come quickly, we need to talk!"

It was Lysandra, her voice shattering the growing lust between them, bringing them back to reality. Fenrys' eyes widened as he pushed away from her and looked towards the door.

"Fenrys-"

"This never should've happened. This is wrong."

Without even looking at her, he went towards the door, unlocked it and pushed past an amused Lysandra, heading towards the main doors.

Y/n barely had time to recollect her thoughts when Lysandra just looked at her with raised eyebrows and a small smile, saying "We have a guest, specifically asked for you. Says he is from Prythian."

What?!

Y/n just nodded "Show me"

They went towards the sitting room at the other end of the hall and once Lysandra opened the door, y/n thought she was seeing things.

Lucien was here. Lucien.

It was actually him. He wasn't a transparent ghost like Amren was, he was here, in his physical body.

He looked awful. His hair a mess of twigs and mud, his clothes crumpled and dirty, his eyes wide as he looked at her.

Everyone except Rowan and Aelin was in the room, clearly because they were the hosts of the ball, and of course Fenrys was nowehere to be seen either.

She would deal with him later. Now, now as she took this redhead in-

His hands, they were holding the Book of Breathings.

Lucien came closer to her "Y/n!"

Y/n's shock was written all over her face as she looked at him with wide eyes, "Lucien! What in the Mothers name are you doing here?!"

His eyes looked all over the room, at everyone, and then came back to her as well as he said "Y/n.....Mother above, finally....I-"

Y/n gently put her hand on his shoulder "Lu, what- how did you find me? How did you get the book?"

He just sighed and closed his eyes, "You might want to sit down for this."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/n: Omg! Our fox boy is here! I wonder what will happen next ;)

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[slytherin-pen]

guess who hit 500 followers, aahhhh!!! thank you all so much for all the support with my writing and for the amazing friendships i have made. to celebrate, i wanted to play request bingo with you! you can choose any word/trope from the board and leave it at that or elaborate if you have something specific in mind. this is open to any character(s) from ACOTAR, Crescent City, Throne of Glass, or Fourth Wing. they can be x Reader or a ship (poly is welcome, too 😉)

i will accept requests until the board is complete and get them out to you asap but do bear in mind i am not a writing machine and it may take me a bit. i’ve also been working on requests i received previously so don’t worry if i haven’t responded to yours, i have just stopped responding to them until it’s ready to post so i don’t lose them. i can’t wait to see what you request and thank you again—i love you all 🫶🏻

most recent card update here!

[utterlyotterlyx]

A Ballad of Storm and Shadow

Azriel x F!Reader

Part Five

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

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

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cassian had never seen Azriel look so obsessively helpless.

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

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

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

Azriel wasted no time in joining her.

Three days.

Seventy-two hours.

Four thousand, three hundred and twenty minutes.

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

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

Apparently she was used to such conditions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was a kindness really. In her eyes anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not a monster like you.

Poison to the earth.

Kin of demons.

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

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

But it stopped.

Not by its own accord, however.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Authors Note

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

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[throneofsapphics]

shut the fuck up

Lorcan x Reader x Rowan

warnings: light choking, wind gags, a really creative title, unedited

a/n: I made my partner answer a few questions and this drabble came out of it, I hope you all enjoy <3

“Shut the fuck up,” Lorcan hissed, his hand circling your neck, applying the barest pressure. Your eyes still widened, rolling back as he pushed into you, your mouth parting in a soft whimper.

Rowan's hand clamped over your mouth. “You'll wake up the whole gods-damned castle at this rate,” he commented dryly, but traced his hand down over your nipple, flicking the new piercing.

A moan escaped past the edges of his fingers, Lorcan's hand tightened around your throat, making your breaths a tad shaky. Cold air whipped around the nape of your neck.

After a few moments of silence, Lorcan released his hand, gripping your waist. Working in sync, Rowan grabbed your ankles, pushing your legs back as far as they'd go above your head, maneuvering you to lay against him as his best friend pounded into you, a gag of wind keeping your desperate whimpers and moans from 'waking the castle.'