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moon--mama · 1 year

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So I’ve been obsessing over ACOTAR ever since I finished the series last week, and this is my meager contribution to the fandom.

New fic: Sword and Starlight

Pairings: Nesta/Cassian, Feyre/Rhysand, Elain/?, Azriel/?, Gwyneth/? (Hang in there)

Summary: When Emerie brings Nesta a young Illyrian girl for training, the Inner Circle sees an opportunity to finally turn things around for the women living in the war camps of the Steppes. But with war looming on the horizon, the Circle is distracted by the pressure of protecting the newest addition to their family.

Warning: spice level 🌶️🌶️🌶️

Read it at AO3 here:

Chapter 1: Valkyries

The first arrived shortly after midsummer. No one was sure what to make of her, the young Illyrian female that Emerie pushed over the threshold of the training grounds at the House or Wind.

“Her name is Helia,” the Valkyrie said briefly.

Nesta’s eyes were wide as she looked from the girl to her friend. “Why did you bring her here?” She asked. But Emerie’s expression told Nesta the answer before the question was even voiced.

It was Cassian’s voice over her shoulder who answered. “Her father and brothers were killed in the war against Hybern,” he guessed.

Emerie nodded once to confirm.

Nesta’s eyes flashed with understanding as her mate sauntered close enough that she could feel his head next to her. This child—nothing more than a girl—had been living in Windhaven with her mother since the war concluded. Now that she’d come of age, relatives were pressuring her mother to clip her wings and match her with an eligible male.

The girl was trembling, her eyes cast to the ground. Her thin frame told the story of hungry winters and summers full of muscle-rending work. The brown hair tumbling over her wiry shoulders was dull and tangled.

Emerie didn’t have to say anything else to Nesta. She didn’t have to ask.

“She’s safe here,” Nesta said firmly. At that, the child’s eyes flew to her face. Shockingly clear blue stared up at her, questioning.

She felt her mate shift on his feet, a deep sigh drawing up from his core. Before he could say a word of dissent, Nesta turned sharply to face him.

Their eyes met.

After several tense minutes of a silent battle in which neither was willing to relent, Nesta cocked one eyebrow. Cassian huffed once and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Mother save us,” he muttered. Glancing down at their new ward, he said more clearly, “She can stay in the lower level guest rooms for now. I’ll have to talk this over with Devlon and Rhys, of course.”

Nesta’s hackles rose at that. “Of course, nothing!” She snapped. “Why do they need to know? This is my House.”

Cassian looked ready to say something—probably something very unwise—when Emerie suddenly laughed. She clapped Nesta on the shoulder, grinning broadly. “I missed you two,” she said fondly. “I’ll take the girl to her room so that you can sort this out, like adults.”

Emerie winked at them with her final parting shot. As her friend grabbed Helia by the hand and drifted toward the stairs, Nesta was overcome with a similar wave of fondness for the Illyrian shopkeeper. Ideas about the future were sparking in Nesta’s mind. Nothing short of reinstating the Valkyries had inspired her this much. Oh, she would certainly handle this…situation. And it would definitely be like an adult.

Their room was dark save for some hints of the midday sun peeking around the heavy drapes. The moment that Nesta got her mate behind the doors, she pushed him onto their bed. Cassian couldn’t help a brief smirk from playing across his face as he let himself fall. So it would be this sort of discussion, then.

He pulled her down next to him, slipping his hands beneath her sweater and making short work of throwing it into some forgotten corner of the room. Nesta let him do it, even helping to slip out of her leggings, before allowing him to draw her up against his chest. Everywhere their skin touched, she felt the promise of what was to come, heat twisting deep within her abdomen.

“We can’t take in every preadolescent Illyrian female in the Steppes,” Cassian mumbled against her neck, breathing in her scent.

Nesta replied by dragging her fingernails absently along the sensitive stretch of flesh where his right wing folded out from his shoulder, eliciting a shudder from her mate. Her eyes flashed briefly with a silver light that hinted at wells of power deeper than any mortal being had the right to possess. “And why not?” She drawled, her mind already working.

Cassian reached toward her to return her caresses, but she slid her knee over him before his fingers could so much as brush her skin. She knew that he hated to pin his wings at his back—yet as she mulled over the fate of the Illyrian women, the fate he himself had been fighting to change for more than a hundred years, she thought wryly that he could stand some discomfort. He sucked in a breath and let her gain the higher ground, his wrists falling back beside his head. Only with her, would he let his guard down so completely.

“The war lords, for one, won’t appreciate—“

Nesta’s hand dipped swiftly to his cock, her fingers curling around his balls. She’d kneed them once, when they first met. As she gave them a gentle squeeze now, Cassian’s words died in his throat, becoming a deep rumble of desire as he groaned.

“I’m sure the war lords have been enjoying their chokehold over the girls for centuries,” she purred dangerously. “It’s time to give those girls an alternative. And you know perfectly well that it won’t come from within the camps.”

No, not with Devlon the most progressive of the war lords, and with even his lip curling whenever the Valkyries were sighted in his camp. Nevermind that one of them lived there. Cassian, Rhysand, and Azriel had been souring the mountains for weeks to seek out the war lords who had supported Brillyan’s interference in the Blood Rite. But short of killing all of them, there was little to be done about the Illyrian commanders and their feelings toward the women who had won the highest honor Ramiel could offer.

Nesta’s hand slipped higher, curling around Cassian’s shaft. He couldn’t resist pushing his hips up toward her hand. A wicked smirk flitted over her lips as she loosened her grip, drawing a frustrated moan out of her mate as she intentionally deprived him of the friction that could bring him to completion.

“Okay—you win,” he conceded. “Ten, thirty, a hundred, just—“ her smirk broadened into a victorious grin as his fingers dug into her thighs. “Fuck, Nes—“

Nesta lifted herself onto her knees, hands guiding her mate exactly where she wanted him. She took a moment to appreciate the feeling of him sliding into place within her. It was a feeling that only Cassian had ever provided for her, only her mate…a feeling that she was finally complete. Cassian may have lost their argument, but she could feel his thrill through their bond as he shoved himself away from their bed, his hands sliding into a familiar lock around her thighs. As his wings stretched behind him, shaking off their earlier imprisonment, Nesta raked her nails over the sensitive membranes.

His answering thrust to the pain-tinged pleasure of those feline scratches on his most sensitive anatomy forced a yelp from her lips. Cassian shifted them to the edge of the bed and leveraged his feet against the floor to drive himself deep into the place that soon had her coming undone. Nesta tipped back her head, exposing her throat as she came. She could feel their bond, golden and taut as it had been the first night they’d dared to admit their feelings for one another. It sent another shudder through her as Cassian’s warmth filled her and she felt the pleasure of his release though that peculiar fae magic that bound them as one.

Completely satisfied, she tipped her head forward until her forehead was pressed against his.

“Thank you,” she said, in the tender tone that she reserved for him alone.

Cassian’s laugh shook her. “I mean, I know I’m good Nes, but I’ve never expected you to thank me—“

“Not for that, you animal,” she snarled, hitting his chest lightly.

He snaked his arms around her and she could still hear his fading smirk as he said, “No need to thank me for that either. Devlon isn’t going to let you do this, Nes. We’ve tried, for so many years.”

She slid off his lap and stretched out on the bed beside him, her toes barely touching the tip of his right wing. “You think I’ll fail,” she observed calmly, as Cassian ran one hand through his hair.

“No, I—“

“You think that since you have tried everything, there’s nothing I can do.”

He must have realized his mistake. Challenging his mate like this would only convince her to try harder. A hundred Illyrian girls, indeed. By the end of the season, Nesta planned to have at least one hundred and ten training like Valkyries at the House. More, if she could find them.

Cassian’s expression told her that he saw her determination, and it was their bond that helped her feel his mingled resignation and admiration for her goal. He didn’t have to say he’d help her, fly her to every camp, champion her cause…Nesta already knew she could count on his help. He pulled her to him again, until her breasts were pressed against his chest. With his left arm, he stroked her hair away from her cheek.

“I think that you can do anything, Nesta Archeron,” he said simply. “Just leave a few of the war lords alive for me, please.”

As Nesta stepped into the training ring the next morning, the sun beat down from the corner of a cloudless blue sky.

Azriel was already there, as was the girl: Helia. She was standing near a rack of swords, shifting her weight from foot to foot, still staring pointedly at the ground. At least she’d brushed her hair. Az, for his part, said nothing as Nesta approached them. The quirk of one brow was question enough.

“Azriel, meet Helia,” she said shortly. “She’s come to train with us.”

He nodded quietly, turning back to the girl with an assessing eye. “Is she—alone?”

Helia looked up at that, but quickly ducked her head down again as the sun hit her face. She knew what Azriel was truly asking—whether or not the girl was orphaned. Nesta shook her head.

“No, but her mother requested that she spend some time with us here and learn to defend herself. Before anything permanent were to happen to her.”

He nodded once with complete understanding. Of all the Illyrians Nesta knew, Azriel was by far the least sympathetic to what they referred to as traditions. Helia still did not raise her head. Gently, Azriel said to Nesta, “We’ll begin with hand to hand combat, then.”

She thought back to her earliest days in this ring and frowned. “Why not balance?” She asked.

Azriel let out a huff that could only have been a laugh. He gestured to a beam at the side of the ring. “Run her through a balance set and see for yourself.”

Helia looked up then, glancing from Nesta to the beam with a question in her eyes. Nesta nodded once, curious to see what Azriel thought he knew about the girl.

She walked calmly to the beam, her wings tucked firmly against her back. With one last glance back at them, she hopped up with one of the most graceful movements Nesta had ever seen from a child. It had taken her months with her dancing tutor to even come close to such command of her center.

Helia walked the beam once before turning and carrying out a perfect cartwheel. She held herself in a handstand and curved her feet back, over her pinned wings, until she formed a perfect bridge. Springing upright, she dipped her feet to the side of the beam with each step as she crossed it once more. All the while, she made eye contact with no one.

Watching the balance dance, Nesta drew in a breath. “Let me guess,” she muttered. “Illyrian children are taught to balance from birth.”

Azriel was nodding, smiling faintly but his eyes were tinged with that particular sadness he carried sometimes. “It’s the—“

Cassian’s voice cut across the ring. “It’s so that we can skip right into beating each other senseless when we finally begin our formal training.”

Azriel’s smile grew more distinct as Cassian neared them. A shadow curled around his arm, winding its way up to his ear. Nesta wondered what secrets that shadow was whispering. But she would easily admit that of all their family, her mate included, Nesta had always found Azriel the least annoying.

Helia’s first skill proven, there remained the question of her other fighting skills. She was still dressed in the near-rags she’d arrived in yesterday, however. It would be a disadvantage in a practice fight, as they’d have a difficult time seeing the way she carried herself. Nesta wished that the House had more facilities for changing, but since the priestesses lived in the library they often changed and washed themselves there.

If they were going to do this thing, they’d need facilities. Showers. Places to change. Places to sleep, and eat (other than the formal dining room above that Rhys reserved for the court). Maybe even more places to practice. She stared at the place where Helia had just proven her skill, lost in thought.

Azriel’s brief noise of surprise made Nesta glance away from the balance beam. A gasp of surprised died in her throat as well.

Next to the door they’d always used, the door leading back into the House, a new door had just appeared. At its base, a cat made of shadows sat idly licking its paw.

Nesta’s eyes lit with excitement. “Thank you,” she breathed to her friend, who meowed once in response before darting over and vanishing into a dark corner.

She was willing to bet that behind that door they’d find everything she had been thinking about only moments before. The House was the one thing in her life that had reliably provided what she needed, whenever she needed it. She’d been given access to the most powerful magic in the universe, and Nesta had Made herself a parent at last.

“Find someone Helia’s size to challenge her,” she said to Cassian, starting to cross toward the new door.

He looked around. “Nesta, there are only adults here.”

“Then call Mor or Rhys and go get one of the boys from Windhaven,” she snapped impatiently, turning toward her mate before she’d touched the new door.

Cassian and Azriel exchanged glances. “I already called Rhys,” her mate admitted. “He’s coming as—“

And in that instant, her brother-in-law stood before them. Power and night rolled off him unchecked, his violet eyes scanning the ring and missing nothing. The priestesses who were training at the other end stopped to gawk momentarily, though they’d each have met him before. Rhys made it a personal point to offer each one sanctuary in the library. Though his power and benevolence used to irritate Nesta, she’d developed a begrudging respect for her brother-in-law over the past couple of weeks. It was a tentative mutual regard, forged by her sacrifice in saving the lives of her sister, Rhysand, and Nyx. The ridiculously lavish mating ceremony he’d bankrolled for Nesta and Cassian had certainly helped repair the animosity between them. His eyes met hers briefly and Nesta was surprised to see the corner of his mouth quirk sideways into a small smile. Little steps, indeed.

Mere heartbeats after his arrival, Nesta’s sister Feyre arrived with baby Nyx in her arms. Feyre’s face broke into an immediate smile, but Nesta surveyed the family with some apprehension, not returning Rhysand’s friendly expression. Cassian took a step toward her, reaching out one hand to her arm in a soothing gesture. But she was already irritated with her mate for calling in the family. It would take only a word from either the High Lord or Lady, and the plan she had been forming in her mind would be stifled forever. Nesta enjoyed her life, her second chance, living with her mate while she trained and worked with her friends, but Emerie’s unexpected delivery had given her a glimpse of something…more. Something impactful. Something that could not only soothe the broken women they sheltered, but save them before they needed saving.

Before anyone could speak, Nyx shifted and let out an enormous belch. Feyre and Rhysand’s attention snapped to the babe, everyone else momentarily forgotten. It took Nesta by such surprise that she let out a small laugh before she could help herself.

Feyre shifted Nyx so that he was upright, glancing over at Rhys with an expression of wary alarm. “Maybe you could take him for a moment,” she purred, pressing their baby into his arms.

Rhys’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You didn’t feed him before you winnowed, did—“

But the next belch from Nyx was accompanied by a stream of creamy vomit, dribbling down the black and silver-threaded shirt that Rhys seemed to favor above all other attire. Nesta couldn’t help but snickering again.

He heaved an aggrieved sigh and patted their son on the back, below his tiny wings. With a brief snap of his fingers, the vomit vanished to that pocket between realms that only High Fae seemed privy to using. Feyre tried to keep a straight face through it all, but as she turned back toward Nesta her eyes were full of triumph.

“He’s been sullying everything I own,” she whispered quickly. “You’d think for such a small creature he’d keep at least some of it down. But winnowing never agrees with him.” Her eyes briefly took on that faraway look that told Nesta her brother was communicating exactly how he felt being used as a burp towel, but then they cleared with a tiny shake of her head.

“I’m sure he will someday soon. I remember you being a very unreliable child yourself,” she muttered, mind drifting back to days when her mother had pushed Feyre into the arms of a nursemaid at every opportunity. She’d never been puked on like that, because she’d never held Feyre long enough to risk it. As a child, Nesta had wondered if the new baby’s vomiting had been a call for their mother’s attention and immediately resented the problematic bundle of noise and filth. With a brief shake of her own head to clear the memories, Nesta drew in a breath and prepared to argue her case.

Feyre beat her to it. “I think this is a wonderful idea,” she breathed. “Where is she? The first one? Is she—is she unharmed?” Her eyes drifted over the priestesses, looking for Helia and not finding her.

Azriel cleared his throat. He shifted one of his great wings and the girl stepped out of his shadows. Her eyes were still downcast, and Nesta’s heart fell as she saw that once again the girl was trembling.

Feyre saw her fear, as well. Her eyes grew distant for a moment, and Nesta saw the girl’s figure still. She sucked in a breath and looked at Feyre, assessing just how much meddling she might be doing in the defenseless child’s mind—

Then, unaccountably, Helia lifted her chin and looked at them. Those clear blue eyes moved from Nesta’s face to Freyre’s, and then to Rhysand. As her eyes settled on baby Nyx, she…smiled.

Nesta looked over at Cassian in surprise. Was Helia opposed to or frightened of them?

The child dropped to her knee, dipping her head once more. “My Lord,” she said, her voice husky from disuse. “My Lady.”

Feyre smiled at Nesta before stepping forward and saying easily, “Rise, Helia. There’s no need for that sort of formality here. We simply wished to ask you a few questions, with your permission.”

Here it was, then. The fate of Nesta’s plans, the fate of the Valkyries, would rest on the words of a sullen child who seemed half terrified and half resentful of her hosts. It was just like Feyre to disregard her—

Nesta felt it then. Feyre’s approach to her mental shields, her gentle rapping at the iron gates surrounding Nesta’s mind. Dampening down her negative thoughts, she begrudgingly met Feyre at a crack, wondering why her sister acted in secret.

I could feel your tension from the River House, Feyre whispered across Nesta’s mind. We want to know how many children will train, if we need to build dormitories, if she might have friends to bring along. We support you, Nesta. And the Valkyries. Rhys thinks it’s a fabulous idea.

Like unclenching a fist, the tension immediately leaked away from Nesta’s mind and body. She looked over at her brother, whose violet eyes twinkled knowingly.

They supported her. They supported the Valkyries.

No need to build anything. I took care of it already, Nesta thought, knowing her sister would hear her. Feyre smiled again and turned back toward the girl. They walked together across the ring, talking softly.

Suddenly, Nesta felt her eyes wetting. Some deep part of her worried that she still didn’t deserve this, the trust and support her family gave her after the many ways she’d failed them all for so long. She swiped her hand across her brow, pretending to tuck her hair behind her ear as she dashed the tears before they could gather any more. In three quick steps, she closed the distance between herself and her brother in law, her arms outstretched.

“Give me that beautiful Illyrian baby,” she demanded. “Let’s see if he’ll keep his breakfast down for his aunt.”

The second door burst open at that moment, spilling a somewhat disheveled Gwyneth into the sunlight. She caught sight of the family and her face broke into a joyful smile. Hooking a thumb over her shoulder, she said, “Did you know that there’s a whole new House over there? I counted forty rooms on my way up from a door I’d never seen before in the Library. What, are we hosting an army and nobody told me?”

Nesta held up a finger for Nyx to grab before he could latch onto her hair. She regarded her friend, one of the most powerful women in the Night lands, and returned her bright smile. “To sum up a long story—yes.”

#nesta and cassian #nessian #feyre x rhysand #feysand #baby nyx #acotar fanfiction #acotar moodboard

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houseofhurricane · 3 years

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ACOTAR Fic: Bloom & Bone (14/32) | Elain x Tamlin, Lucien x Vassa

Summary: Elain lies about a vision and winds up as the Night Court’s emissary to the Spring Court, trying to prevent the Dread Trove from falling into the wrong hands and wrestling with the gifts the Cauldron imparted when she was Made. Lucien, asked to join her, must contend with secrets about his mating bond. Meanwhile, Tamlin struggles to lead the Spring Court in the aftermath of the war with Hybern. And Vassa, the human queen in their midst, wrestles with the enchantment that turns her into a firebird by day, robbing her of the power of speech and human thought. Looming over all of them is uniquet peace in Prythian and the threat of Koschei, the death-god with unimaginable power. With powers both magical and monstrous, the quartet at the Spring Court will have to wrestle with their own natures and the evil that surrounds them. Will the struggle save their world, or doom it?

A/N: This may be the most fanfiction-y chapter of Bloom & Bone yet... and I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoy reading. You can find all previous chapters here, or read Bloom & Bone on AO3. If you'd like to get an early peek at chapter 11 and all future chapters, follow me on Instagram at @house.of.hurricane. Thank you for reading! ❤️

When Tamlin awakes at the sound of a rip in the fabric of the world, his first thought is that this must be a strange continuation of his dream. There, too, Elain Archeron had been in his bedroom.

His second thought, as she walks toward him, eyes wide in her moonlit face, glowing from more than the light and redolent with a new aura of power, is that she can surely smell his arousal. As soon as she speaks, there will surely be an awkward question about what caused this.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, pulling his blanket around himself in case she looks too closely. In the dream, she had not kept her distance, but Tamlin is never quite sure what the real Elain will do.

“I needed to leave the Night Court,” she says, her teeth chattering around the words. Shock. Exhaustion. “But they will come looking for me here. They think I betrayed them but I was only--”

Her voice hitches and Tamlin expects Elain to cry, but instead her hands ball into fists and she takes a deep, shuddering breath. Her teeth continue to chatter for a moment longer, then fall still.

“Lucien and I are working on a plan to rescue Vassa,” she says, her voice low and calm and yet ringing in his ears. The proximity of her body, her scent wafting around him. He needs to collect himself. If Elain is right, Rhysand will be here in minutes.

“What brought you here, then?”

“I asked -- I wanted to be someplace safe. Isn’t it true that mates can’t harm each other?”

“I will do my best to never hurt you,” he tells her. The words are ragged with meaning. “Which means we cannot stay here.”

“There are places I can go. I think I can take you. When I held the bone, you followed me. I think we will need weapons, though. And gold. And perhaps as much water as we can carry.” Her laugh is a little frantic and Tamlin wants to pull her towards him, this little female who comes up to his shoulder and still has grasped some magic he’s never before detected, but there is no time.

“Turn around,” he tells her, already reaching for his clothes and his armor as her skirts swish on the floor. Within seconds, he’s dressed and lacing his boots, filling a bag with gold and heaving his broadsword into its sheath on his back. In another minute, a dozen knives and daggers are variously strapped and concealed, ready for battle.

Then Tamlin sweeps Elain up in his arms and runs to the kitchens, waiting for the moment when she insists on being put down, but instead she looks around anxiously, as if she’s certain Rhysand will appear.

She does not speak until there is a stone jug in the crook of each of her arms, filled to the brim with water and sealed hastily with leather, and then she says only, “I hope this works,” takes a step, and wraps her hands around Tamlin’s wrists.

Around them is a sound like the ripping of some great tapestry, and his kitchens become a passageway with intricately tiled floors and giant doors filled with elaborate carvings. This place smells like no court or country he has ever known, unknown spices and flowers lightly scenting the air.

Before him, Elain is glowing golden, a sun on the horizon. She turns away from him to look down the passageway as if she knows this landscape and already has a direction in mind.

“You’ve been training,” he says, scanning each side of the passageway for threats. The walls curve off in the distance but all is still except for the low hum of this place, the vibration of Elain’s power in front of him.

“They can still find us here, if they decide to use the bone,” she says, as if he did not speak, then starts walking. Tamlin can’t help but follow, watching door after door pass by them. Finally, she stops and places her hand on a wooden door, closes her eyes, and nods. When she opens her eyes, she turns toward him, holds out her hand, and asks, “Are you ready to see another world?”

Tamlin takes her hands and follows her through the open door and into the dawn of a new world.

Elain has taken them to a marketplace, and though her eyes are alight with recognition, he doubts she knows the language, which is unlike any he’s heard on his short trips to the continent. Despite the early hour, the air is already hot and sticky and scented with the ocean, spices, roasting meat. Around them, people are laughing and arguing. They’re clothed in loose linen, their skin ruddy and golden and brown, and no one seems to be bothered by the fact that two pale strangers have appeared from some strange place they could hardly imagine.

“This world is at peace,” she says, shifting her shoulders to better accommodate the water she’s carrying. He takes a jug from her and holds it at his side, hoping she won’t let go of his other hand. He hopes she’s right about the peace in this world, because he’ll lose precious seconds if he needs his sword. The alley around them seems deserted, but that could change in an instant, especially as the day breaks.

“Tell me about your power,” he says, because of the thousand questions that whirl in his mind, this seems the most pressing, to learn what’s bloomed in her.

“I’m still learning. But I have an awareness of the character of the world. And at first I needed to navigate by going through the passageways, but now, if I concentrate and I know where I’m going, it seems I can move around on my own.”

“You’ve never been in my bedroom before.”

She flushes like a ripe strawberry, so that the pink of her dress looks almost pale.

“I tried to go someplace where I was safe. I’ve never tried to move places in our world before, only between worlds and the passageway. And I’ve communicated with the door, somehow. But I thought, if it were going to work, that the mating bond might act as a tether between us. That it might also let you travel with me.”

“You wanted me to come with you?”

He watches her swallow, the delicate working of her throat. When she looks up at him, the force of her gaze makes his breath hitch. The power concealed inside of her astounds him.

“I could tell you that the Night Court will go to your estate first, though it’s possible they will try to track Lucien instead.” She pauses, hitching the jug of water against her hip, liquid sloshing against her sleeve. Tamlin hardly breathes, worried the moment will be broken, that someone will notice them, that all hell will break loose, the way it always does.

Finally, Elain says, the words barely a whisper on her plump and rosy lips: “But if I am being very honest, I missed you.”

It’s all he can do to keep himself from kissing her. Instead, he feels himself beaming.

“I am very glad you could find me in our world.”

“Even if I interrupted your dream?” In a second, all that shyness has vanished, and she arches an eyebrow, almost flirtatious.

“The reality is better,” he says, taking the invitation in her tone, and is gratified to see her cheeks going pink again. “Would you like to tour the market?”

She nods, striding ahead of him, and Tamlin follows her mutely, not sure if someone overhearing their language would denounce them as strangers. Instead, he watches Elain’s delight at the bolts of embroidered fabrics in rich colors, the cheap jewelry that nonetheless sparkles brightly in the rising sun, the fragrant spices tucked away in glass jars. Tamlin doesn’t think she’s slept, but all signs of tiredness have vanished, as if this world has refreshed her just by its existence.

A group of young boys approaches her, with a platter of pastries, the scents of cooked fruit heavy in the air. When she stops, as generous with them as she always has been with the small and tender beauties she comes across, they begin, all in a rush, to declaim the virtues of pastries. Even if Elain understood their language, he doubts she would understand the force of the five voices that all tangle up in each other. And sure enough, she glances at him ruefully, until he hands the nearest boy a gold mark and they begin to shout and shove the platter toward Tamlin and Elain.

“This is too much for us,” she murmurs, and hands them each a pastry and gives each boy a little smile before the group scampers off, rowdy and joyous.

They manage to navigate the platter through the market without incident, making their way to another quiet alley, shaded by the overhang of the buildings on either side.

Elain settles herself on the ground, her skirt fanning out on either side of her, and holds out a pastry.

The taste of the flaky crust and the apricot and cinnamon inside, blended with spices he’s never tasted and has no name for, washes across Tamlin’s tongue. His stomach growls and Elain actually snorts mid-bite.

“I knew you were hungry,” she says, and he laughs, because he’d never have guessed when she’d arrived in his court that he’d one day be sitting in a universe completely outside of his own, squatting at the edge of a strange marketplace and watching Elain Archeron talk with her mouth full of food.

He wolfs down the remainder of the pastry in his hand and eats three more, pausing to guess at the fruits and spices, and when he looks at her, Elain is contemplating the last pastry on the platter, eyebrows raised.

“You should eat it,” he says, all gallantry.

“It’s my rightful pastry! I’d only eaten two.” Her tongue pokes out from between her teeth, a deep fuschia that makes Tamlin feel his heartbeat in every corner of his body. “I’m just not sure if I have room in my stomach.”

She continues to look at the pastry until he realizes she’s stopped really contemplating the platter and has moved on to thinking about other, more pressing topics.

“Will you tell me why your sister thinks you betrayed her court?” He’s not sure if she wants to talk, but surely this is the safest place to have this conversation, where nobody can understand what they’re saying.

“Lucien and I were working with Helion in secret, by night. Lucien was trying to determine the properties of the spell on Vassa, and Helion was helping to train me.”

“I thought Amren could train you.”

Elain’s lips press into a thin line, all the color draining from them. “Can you imagine what Amren would’ve done, if she’d had these powers? I think that’s all she thought of. I couldn’t get anywhere until Helion helped me, and then I pretended Amren had had some magical solution. Only of course I was too confident and Lucien and I were caught returning from the Day Court.”

“Where is Lucien?”

“I hope he went to Helion.” She pauses, shifting her eyes as if she’s worried about being overheard, though Tamlin could tell her that everyone outside is out of earshot, and the people in their buildings are still fumbling for their breakfast and smell close enough to human to hear their conversation clearly. “I assume you know the stories about Lucien’s parentage.”

“It’s an open secret, one Lucien’s friends do not discuss out of respect for his wishes.”

He hates the way she stiffens at these words and he reaches for her, letting his fingers hang into the air near her skin. He will give her the choice to draw near, in part because he already knows the pain of her rejection will be impossible and also that he will have to find the strength to bear it.

Finally, she leans into his knuckles, so that she can feel the warmth of her shoulder through the fabric of her gown.

“I think that Lucien and I are friends now,” she says. “But I am worried for him. Do you think I should have tried to bring him with me?”

“Helion will protect him. And Lucien is more powerful than he lets most people think.”

“Is there any part of him that isn’t hidden away?”

The question is earnest, and Tamlin’s mind goes to that moment in Hybern, previously unremarkable to him, when Lucien had beheld Elain and called her his mate. The quickness of Lucien’s mind, intent on avoiding disaster even when it meant carrying the burden of that lie for years.

“When he looks at Vassa,” Tamlin says, forcing himself to think of those dinners, which had gone from awkward silence to actual conversations, Vassa laughing and Elain going rosy over double entendres, and Lucien between them, relaxed and delighted as Tamlin had never seen him.

“Do you think they’re mates?” He can tell from the way eyes dart that there are implications to this question, potentially beyond his ability to handle. He reaches for the lone pastry on the platter, worrying the edges with his thumb.

“I don’t know if it’s possible for the High Fae to feel a mating bond with humans or lesser faeries. I have never heard of such a story, though of course among our kind, it is possible that such a bond would be an embarrassment and thought best hidden.”

“In a way, wouldn’t it be romantic if they weren’t?” There’s a harsh note in her voice.

“What do you mean?”

“They have the opportunity to choose each other.”

“A mating bond can be rejected,” Tamlin says, careful to keep his voice even. I hope you will not treat me as you did my sister, she’d said. He cannot force her, even though all of him, body and the ragged remains of his soul, thrills at Elain’s proximity, the softness of her skin and her wide, dark eyes, bright even after a sleepless night. A strand of wavy hair rests on the curve of her cheek, and he catalogues this moment in his mind, so that if she does reject him, he’ll be able to call her image to mind in an instant. He heaves a sigh. “You can reject our bond, if you wish.”

She turns toward him, the early morning light giving her heart-shaped face a glow. He’s not sure if it’s this world or her magic that makes Elain’s beauty almost unbearable.

“What would happen to you, if I rejected it?”

“I have heard that the pain is unbearable for the rejected male,” he says, doing his best to sound at ease, “but it could be that this is just a tale to push reluctant females toward their destiny.”

“And you would never risk the anger of the Night Court by forcing me.”

He extends his hand toward her, looks straight into those eyes that look like the heart of the earth, warm brown shot through with green and gold.

“I would never risk your happiness, Elain. I have ruined every good thing in my life, but Cauldron boil me if I destroy you over this bond between us.”

He’s about to lower his hand, to show her that he means it, when she reaches out for him, threads her fingers around his, and when she smiles, he could swear that nothing in any world could match her brilliance.

They pass the remainder of the day exploring the city, which is walled in by a great desert on every side. They do not speak of the mating bond. They hardly speak at all, worried that their language will mark them as targets to any careful observer, communicating instead through gestures and shared glances, the quirk of Elain’s pink lips that shows she’s amused, the bright flash in her eyes that demonstrates her delight.

As the afternoon stretches toward evening, Tamlin realizes that Elain’s dress is damp where it touches her body, that her face has gone blotchy with the heat. He stops them in the shade of what appears to be a university, if the amount of books in the hands of passerby is to be trusted, and tilts the water jug toward her until she’s drunk her fill.

“We need to find a place to stay the night,” he says, looking around to see if there’s an inn. “Or however long we need to remain here.”

“In three days, I’ll be able to reason with Rhys. We could try the Day Court but I don’t think Helion would form an alliance with your court so quickly, no matter what Lucien says. Especially if Rhys is breathing down his neck.” She lays out all these considerations matter-of-factly, no hesitation in her voice, and he wonders how often Elain has been watching the people around her while they’ve assumed she was only thinking of the garden. “There’s a risk, but we could sleep in the passageway. I think there are cooler places in this world.”

“We have enough gold to find a bed,” he says, feels his face heat when he realizes he didn’t use the plural. The brief fantasy he allows -- Elain in bed next to him, her silky skin against his own -- is exquisite.

He tells himself it is the heat of the day that makes her cheeks even rosier. He can only extend the dream so far.

Within an hour, they have found a shabby yet comfortable inn near the students’ quarters, and between them, they’ve gestured and sketched out what they’re looking for, a room and meals for the next three days. The proprietor mutters Terrasen under his breath as he turns away to fetch a key, and moments later, Tamlin and Elain are alone in the room.

Of course, there’s only one bed.

“I’ll take the floor,” he says, and Elain holds up her hand.

“You’ll take the bed or I’ll sleep on the floor alongside you. Or we could both sleep in the bed. I’m the one who endangered you.”

When he looks at her, Tamlin allows a fraction of what he feels, the heat beneath his skin, to enter into his gaze. Her eyes widen, deep and sparkling even in the fading light, and her long lashes do not so much as flutter with hesitation. There’s desire in her eyes also, the scent of her own arousal in the room.

“It feels like a spell sometimes,” she’s saying, the words almost lost in the heady thrum of his blood, “the way I think of you. The way your touch feels. More than love or desire. As if you’ve occupied my body.”

“Then you feel what I do,” he says, and his boots scrape loud against the tiled floor as he backs away from her. Any closer, and he will reach for Elain Archeron, hold her, claim her. He does not trust himself to do otherwise, alone with her, in a world where nobody knows them or how impossible it is for them to be together.

She presses her face into her hands, her exhale rushing from between her fingers. He swears he can feel it on his skin.

“I keep forgetting about Vassa. I should go back. Maybe I could go to Koschei and--”

He crosses the room without commanding his feet to move, intent on getting his hand on her. Not to hold or caress her, only to follow her wherever she goes, no matter the folly of her plan. His thumb lands on the crook of her elbow, the thrum of her pulse against the skin made rough by battle and the forests of his court.

“I think you need a plan to vanquish Koschei,” he says, “but I will go with you, even if it’s to our death.”

“The stories say that mates cannot allow each other to be harmed,” she says, her face still hidden by her fingers.

“I do not care about the stories. I only care that you are safe.”

He watches as her fingers press into her face, forming pink splotches around each nail. From here, he can see the little band of dirt under each nail, the way the garden has marked her, even a world away.

“All I want is to stay here with you, and let you claim me as your mate. But I am afraid that I would disappear, that I would only be the pretty girl in your gardens. All my life, I was supposed to be that person, and now, I think--”

She moves her hands away, and when Elain meets his gaze, her eyes are so wide and lovely, her face so completely beautiful, even mussed, that Tamlin knows he would give her anything she wanted, so long as she had breath to form the plea. It feels like a spell, she said, and he feels bewitched by her, the world completely shifted by her proximity.

“I do not trust myself,” he forces himself to say, the words raw against his throat, nearly growled, “I do not trust what I’ll become if I allow myself--” He wants to say to love you, but he does not trust those words either. They’ve proved treacherous before.

“I haven’t allowed myself to think of that,” she says, but her scent gives her away, the sweet musk.

“You’re lying.”

Her breath hitches, and his gaze sweeps down her body, the swell of her breasts under the close-fit bodice of her gown, they fall to the dip at her waist, the flare of her hips only partially concealed by the sweep of her skirts. The suggestion of her form enough to drive him wild, to make his cock strain against his pants, so hard it’s nearly painful.

“What would happen if I kissed you?” she asks. “Would that activate the mating bond? Or is it only food?”

“If you kissed me I would try to control myself,” he says, meaning it, even as desire rages in him. He forces himself to think, what was all that playing at war for if not a means of developing his control? He tells her, “I will never take more than you will willingly give. I will not force you to be my mate, whatever happens.”

“I will not force you either.”

He hooks his fingers at the back of her neck, under her hair. It’s damp and dusty from their day of walking, and this only makes him want to pull her closer.

“Why do you imagine you would need to force me?”

“I know you love my sister.” Elain says the words with the clarity of an oracle, and Tamlin wonders for a moment if she’s having a vision, learning some truth he cannot currently detect within his own heart.

“I loved your sister and it nearly split our world in half,” he says, trying to emphasize the past tense. He runs his fingers down the bony knobs of her spine, thrills at her small involuntary shiver even in spite of what he’s confessing. “I do not know if my love will ever be worth seeking. I do not know if you are right to trust me.”

“You abolished the tithe,” she says, and the spark of hope in her words makes him wish he’d always been a better male.

“I only canceled the next one. It takes funds to raise an army. There has to be a way to secure the Spring Court borders, and to compensate those who risk their lives.”

“You are listening to your people.”

“It is not such a grand thing, not to speak.”

“In all the stories I have heard, you’ve never listened to anyone. Not even Feyre.” She pulls away from his hand, replaces her neck with her fingers, which squeeze him in a stronger grip than she ever imagined he possessed. “Maybe we can be new people, Tamlin. But I think I do not want to be your reward for changing for the better. I don’t think either of us deserves it.”

When she lets him go and turns to the washbasin, he tries not to feel stung. Of course she deserves the right to turn away from him and anything he could offer. As much as he would like to believe otherwise, it’s the sensible option.

Still, through dinner and a night spent curled on the floor, he finds himself dreaming of that kiss, the feel of Elain against his body, wholly unique and lovely, the scent of her, the feel of her skin and the dust of another world.

The next day, they sleep late by unspoken agreement, Elain eventually agreeing to the bed. Tamlin had lain awake long into the night, the possibility of danger and the proximity of Elain leaving him alert to every sound.

Their breakfast is simple and delicious, a fragrant porridge thick with dried fruit and honey, and the little sighs Elain makes while eating it affect Tamlin bodily, though the proprietress only grins at them, says something they cannot understand but which approximates happiness at seeing good work recognized. Elain’s bright grin and his sheepish glance only illicit a knowing nod.

“She thinks we’re lovers, doesn’t she?” Elain murmurs as they walk out the door, laden with everything they held when they walked through the door.

“She’s probably never seen a faerie before.”

“There are fae here somewhere. I saw them on the door of this world.”

“How many years did you go without seeing one?”

Instead of answering, Elain bites her lip, considering the street before them, bustling with morning activity. Already, the air around them shimmers with heat.

“There’s something I should try today,” she says. “I need to know the organizational principles of the passageways.”

“How are you going to learn that?” He has a feeling that she’s trying to conceal her plan with the formality of her language, the serenity of her tone. As if he could not wholly pay attention to her at every moment.

“Promise you won’t try and stop me.”

He’s tempted to cross his arms and loom over her, force her to stay in this hot, safe world until they can return to his court. But the thought of fear on her face makes his stomach heave. He tried to contain an Archeron sister, once.

Instead he tells the truth: “I’m worried you’d slip off without me.”

She turns toward him, her hand extended.

“I will never leave you in a strange world,” she says, solemn, clasping his fingers before he even realized he’d reached for her.

His exhale sighs out of him, a weight released, before he realizes that the market is disappearing around them, a sound like the ripping of a tapestry is enveloping them, that they stand in the passageway once again.

Around them everything is the same as before: the carvings on the doors, the design on the tiles beneath their feet, the great arched ceilings lit with candelabras far above. They are the only thing that have changed about this place, more rumpled than they were yesterday, Elain’s dress dusty from a day’s walking and wrinkled from a night of sleep.

“You could have given me a bit of warning,” Tamlin says, when he’s satisfied they are alone in this passageway. His voice echoes enough, though, that anybody tracking them would hear.

“I’m looking for Koschei.” Already she is looking around, reaching out her hands as if to sense the air.

“I know a lake where you can find him,” he says, already frantic in spite of himself, in spite of the mettle he’s seen Elain display, the powers which shine out in her when she’s in this place.

“If I can find the world he came from, Lucien and Helion will be able to learn about his magic. They were beginning to work on a tethering spell before we were caught.”

“You realize that any world that birthed a death-lord is likely full of death-lords, don’t you?”

“Lucky for me, then, that I have a male with a sword at my side.” She bats her eyelashes and widens her smile so that it’s almost a grimace, before relaxing into a more serious expression. “I’m going to try and see if I can locate the world from here, without changing my location in the passageway. Hold on to me if you want to come.”

He grabs her wrist and watches Elain’s face. He wants to see her work the incantation. Instead, her eyelids flutter shut and he watches her eyes dart around below that thing rosy skin, as if Elain is dreaming, seeing the world she seeks. He can feel the effervescence of her magic, the brightness of it like a star inside her. As he wonders how she ever kept this power hidden, he realizes that the passageways have changed, that the carvings on the doors are different, less familiar, with larger figures who look more menacing, with teeth and claws and wings that make his beast form look like a puppy in comparison. His free hand is already halfway to his sword.

Elain walks directly to the door and places her hand on it. He follows her, ready to dive in front of her. But Elain only studies the carvings, presses her fingers into the wood and closes her eyes, then reaches for his free hand and presses it against the wood.

“This feels like Koschei’s power,” she says, “doesn’t it?”

He’s about to say that he feels nothing, only the grain of the wood, when the power of this world pricks at his fingers like tiny flashes of lightning. He did not touch Koschei, couldn’t even get close, but his power caused a similar sensation, a frisson in the air.

“This does not seem to me like a world at peace,” he says, trying to keep the pleading out of his tone. If she will only keep herself safe, he will give her whatever she wants. Including an eternity apart from him.

“Then maybe Koschei was right to escape. I think we should get a better look.”

“And if we’re killed in the attempt?”

“Then we died trying to save Vassa,” she says, and reaches for the doorknob, twists it before he can think of a worthy objection.

The world is flattened of all color, the sky and the hard grass-studded earth blending on the horizon. The clouds are thick and near, blocking the light and clotting the redolent air. But even through the thickness, power sparks. Tamlin cannot detect its origin. As if the world itself is powerful, the air a magical current.

“This reminds you of Koschei, doesn’t it?” Elain says. Her voice is a bell in the barren landscape. He scans the sky for any indication that they’ve been discovered.

“I understand why he would want to leave this place.”

There is no cover in the scrub, only endless wasteland, but Elain begins to walk and so Tamlin follows her. At every step, his instincts tell him to leave, to force her to take them out of this world, but he thinks of the desolate look on Lucien’s face when he stared at the spot where Vassa disappeared, screaming. The lilt in the queen’s voice, her teasing laughter, the recollection of those dinners that were almost comfortable drive him onward, keep him scanning this harsh world for any threat.

After hours of walking, stopping only for quick gulps of their water, Elain stops in her tracks, turns to him.

“What if this world is deserted?” The bleakness in the question matches the landscape.

“Didn’t you say that Helion and Lucien needed to know how Koschei’s magic worked in his home world? I think they could detect it from the atmosphere.”

“I thought if I could--” she says, but there’s a hiss behind her, and Tamlin has his sword in one hand and the other around Elain, pressed close against him as he whirls on the source of the sound.

Only the centuries of warrior’s training keep him steady as he stares at the bared fangs of the scaly creature, which extend above and below its jaw. Borne on wings, the beast is like some giant snake, its bulk writhing in the air. As it descends towards them, the hissing grows louder, becomes a rattle. Tamlin raises his sword and, not knowing whether it will help or harm them, flings out his magic, heaving the creature to another corner of this desolate world.

“Can you let it get a little closer to us?” Elain asks from his side. He realizes that instead of tucking herself into a little package of fright, her hands are out, her fingers working. Magic thrums in the air around her, the only lovely and familiar thing, except for Elain herself.

“Why?”

“I need to get a better sense of its magic,” she snaps at him, the tone unfamiliar and instantly endearing, even now.

Tamlin drops the shield of his magic, and the creature swoops toward them, gives a shriek. A globule of spittle falls from its tongue and lands on the grass with a hiss. He raises his sword higher, readies himself to strike, inhales to fill his lungs. The power emanating from the creature is like and unlike Koschei’s, brute force instead of the cunning precision that makes the death-lord impossible to overcome. But this magic, the breadth and scope of it, will be difficult to fight. Still, Tamlin keeps his sword held high. He will give Elain whatever she needs.

In the face of the talons, the fangs, the bulk and writhing length of the creature, he does not falter, he does not fear. He is a warrior and he will defend his mate, make it possible for her to save her friend.

He watches the slitted eyes of the creature and swears it is calculating. Perhaps there is a strategy in place, veiled by the depths of magic. Perhaps, like Koschei, his world-kin has been waiting for centuries to wreak vengeance on the High Fae.

Tamlin has no cunning plan. The only means of escape is through Elain, and she does not so much as blink as she studies the creature, one hand outstretched, one hand on Tamlin’s shoulder. As if she beckons it, death and danger and whatever answers they might provide.

He will not fail her. He knows this in his bones. He will go on long enough to let her disappear into the passageway, into her own world. There, she will free herself.

The creature swoops, ready for the attack, and the world disappears, reforms to the tiles of the passageway.

And then Elain’s hands are on him, around his neck. She presses her lips to his. Distantly, he hears his sword clatter to the ground.

She is soft against him, impossibly sweet against his mouth, her fingers tangled in his hair as he pulls her closer, his fingers cupping her shoulders, running down her spine to settle on her waist. He does not think she could ever be close enough to him. Something blooms in him with this kiss, green and growing under his skin, entirely new.

“You were ready to save me,” she whispers against his mouth.

“Of course I will always save you.” His arms are banded around her waist, moving with the rise and fall of her breath. He loves the feel of her, safe and alive, the thrum of her pulse below his fingers.

“It was stupid of me to let that thing get so close to you. The second you dropped your shield, I was so afraid you would be killed.”

“I only wanted to give you time,” he says, tucking her head against his shoulder. He wants to keep kissing her, but doesn’t want to startle her. It’s enough to hold her, after the weeks when he thought he’d never even see her again. “Did you learn what you needed to know?”

“That creature had more power than Koschei.” Her voice is terrified and also a little admiring. Part of him wants to shake her. Part of him understands the feeling, the terror that’s almost equal parts wonder. “But does that mean Koschei left because he was weak? Or does it mean that his power diminishes in other worlds?”

“Does your power fluctuate?” he asks.

“I’m more powerful here than anywhere. Even in our world. Sometimes it feels as if I could make a world from nothing, the sense of possibility is so complete.”

Tamlin runs his hand down her back, up and down against the soft fabric of her dress, warm from her skin. Only the slight scrape of her eyelashes against his tunic gives away the fact that her mind is working, the kind of tell that only a dedicated observer would note.

After a few minutes, in which Tamlin has lulled himself into a stupor, Elain springs from his arms, her eyes wide.

“We have to keep the bone from Koschei,” she says. “Can you imagine what he’d do if he could access its power?”

“You have to stay away from him,” he says, and it is an effort to keep his voice level. “All you will be to him is a weapon, Elain.”

“You were willing to defend me so that I could learn how to defeat him. You cannot mean to lock me up now.”

Already, he feels her straining in his arms, calculating the effort required for freedom. He loosens his grip.

“What would you have me promise?”

She looks up at him then, biting her lip, serious and rumpled and lovely, and it takes every ounce of control in Tamlin not to pull her toward him, not to lock his arms around her.

“I want you to promise that you’ll show me you’re worth trusting.”

He sucks in a breath and contemplates the whole of what she implies. That he will control himself, master the rage and the doubt and the self-pity that roar inside of him. That he will rule his court. That he will treat her with respect for her full self, her power and her wrath, her sweetness and beauty and poise and those moments of uncertainty. That he will free her from all that binds, even when doing so will tear at him. That she might leave him anyway, with every good reason.

“I promise,” he says, the words loud enough to echo in the halls.

Then she relaxes in his arms, rests her head against his chest, and Tamlin holds her until her breathing steadies and then slows. How strange it is, to find his mate after half a century, to know he could lose her at any moment, and to find himself somehow contented with that knowledge, to savor the way the light gilds her hair, the way, when her face relaxes in sleep, she looks almost stern, her brows drawn down and her cheekbones more prominent. He tucks her closer against him, savoring the weight, the softness of Elain’s body. At least, he tells himself, there is this moment with her, and then the next one. Put like that, each breath feels miraculous.

He wakes with a start sometime later, slumped on the floor, Elain curled up against his shoulder. She lets out a little moan at the movement, which forces him to slide her off his lap before she can detect the effect of that sound.

“Do you think we can go back to our world?” he asks. Rhysand could be waiting, but he feels ready for that fight.

“As long as there’s a real bed waiting for me,” she murmurs, scrubbing at her eyes. She reaches for him, and then they’re in his bedroom, the bed now perfectly made, sunlight streaming through the windows. Through the window, the garden is beautiful as ever, lush with the intermingling scents of blossoms.

Elain’s command over her power is growing, he thinks. There was hardly a sound at the transport, even fresh from slumber.

Now she’s boneless against him.

“Let me take you to your room,” he says, but she shakes her head.

“Melis tried to cut my throat there. Let me stay with you?”

“I’ll be on the floor.” He’s experienced far worse, in the war bands, then two nights on the floor, making sure Elain’s sleep is undisturbed.

But she reaches for his hand.

“Stay with me,” she says.

“You’re half-asleep. And if we are found--”

“Stay with me.”

Still, she does not open her eyes. He promised to be worthy of her trust, and so, when he lays her gently on his bed and pulls the quilts around her, he does not follow her. He pulls the curtains shut against the light, finds a blanket to pillow his head, and listens for the sound of her soft breathing.

“I will be here in this room with you, Elain,” he says, and lets himself relax.

Once they’re awake, the day passes in an idyll. No one from the Night Court has appeared, and so Elain goes to the garden for the afternoon and Tamlin decides to monitor the woods, with strict instructions to the servants to watch over their honored visitor. He will visit the village tomorrow, complete his rounds of the further towns over the next week. But today, he stretches his legs in his own world, the court he rules. He transforms into the beast and savors the heady forest air as it fills his lungs.

After an hour, he hears footsteps moving through the underbrush. He stops behind a tree and counts the sounds of striding feet, half-climbs the tree to get a better view and spots a familiar livery.

When Tamlin registers the sight before him, only the thought of Elain keeps him from lunging toward those footsteps, snarling and vicious and bent on death and destruction.

An army from the Autumn Court is marching through his lands. A thousand fae soldiers working their way through the trees.

If he rushes them, even with the High Lord’s power inside him, they will rip him to shreds. And so Tamlin slinks through the forest. Where the future should be, there is only a howling blank.

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thevixenfanfiction · 6 years

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Chapter Five

Shout out to my new beta @court-0f-dreamers!!! She threw down down for me and agreed to read and help out with my writing!!! I was in sore need of a beta and a second set of eyes to help me on my way.

So thank you @court-0f-dreamers!!! You are the bomb! She also suggested having lovely aesthetic GIFs here so I have an excuse to be on pinterest y’all!

Links to the story:

-Prologue-

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Summary- This story follows the path of someone who turns pity into malice and revenge into a lifestyle. Someone who doesn’t believe in love’s power and strays from what little good she has in her heart. Myriad is a fae with the rare ability to leech magic from other face, leaving them husks of their former selves. Myriad worked for and was Amarantha’s secret pet, spy and lover. After the Queen’s death, Myriad leaves to live in solace. On her journey, she’s captured by Hybern and set with a task to complete. Penetrate the workings of the Nightcourt and report to the King. During this time she falls in with the Inner Circle by a chance meeting with a male from her past. She must then gain their trust, in turn, discovering things about herself in the process, fighting the unbreakable command the King of Hybern gave her. (This follows the ending of A Court of Thorns and Roses thru to the end of the series. Slow burn Azriel/Myriad) (Roughly inspired by Disney’s Maleficent.)

I had woken a few hours after my escape attempt, this time to the healer who I learned had been the female whose voice I had heard. She had informed me that I could go downstairs to the sitting room and have something to eat while the males talked to me.

Those males, I learned were Rhysand, Highlord of the Nightcourt and his spymaster, Azriel.

So then I found myself sitting across from them, cradling a mug of broth in my hands, staring at them through the steam that curled up from my cup. So far, none of us had spoken.

Rhysand was lounging in an armchair, watching my every move. He had his perfect chin resting on his fist, a smirk on his face. A shiver ran through me as I recalled he used to look at Amarantha’s subjects the same way. I wondered if now he was probing my mind and I didn’t know it. It was a horrid thought. Azriel on the other hand wasn’t seated. He was lurking by the fireplace, the shadows in that corner writhing around him like loyal dogs. I found myself looking over at him every so often, a nagging part of me believing that I had seen him somewhere before.

“I hope you like cold broth.” I looked over to Rhysand and leveled my gaze with his. He was smirking at me, his eyes roaming over me in a way warriors size up their opponents.

I scowled and took a sip of the broth, finding it quite good. I realized I’d been rather hungry. “When Azriel brought you here, I almost told him to dump you somewhere else,” Rhysand said. “You were half dead anyway.” I raised an eyebrow and set my broth down. “I wouldn’t expect any better,” I rasped, my voice dry and unused. “I wouldn’t have thought Amarantha’s whore could be so generous. What’s your real reason for bringing me here? Am I a prisoner?” Azriel shifted by the fireplace and I saw by the slight shift in Rhysand’s eyes that my words had caused a stir. Rhysand simply smiled wider and shrugged. “No, you’re not a prisoner,” he said coolly. I fidgeted a little and furrowed my brows. Rhysand continued. “Azriel says he knows you.”

“He wasn’t Under the Mountain,” I said dryly. I’d never seen the Illyrian before in my life, so I kept telling myself. Azriel looked over at Rhysand, then at me. He held out a hand, positioning it at waist-level. “You were younger then,” he said, his voice quiet and somewhat grim. I held my mug tighter, my fingernails scraping the porcelain. “You were in an Illyrian war camp. Torin, the lord there, he was going to kill you. He said you were a witch.”

I felt my blood drain from my face and I raised a lip, sneering at the Illyrian. Cauldron...I did know him. The shadows, I recognized them, and the feeling he gave off. Like cold death.

“And you want me to scrape before you, offering you my thanks?” I spat. I sipped from my mug, trying to calm my shaking hands.

“Are you a witch?” Rhysand asked coolly.

I shook my head and took a long while to sip my broth. Let them wait. They deserved it. Finally I looked up, narrowing my eyes. “You tell me. You’re the one who reads minds.”

Rhysand shrugged again looked me over. It was Azriel who spoke first. “What does it matter if you are or aren’t?” he said quietly. He fingered the black blade by his side, his dark eyes boring a hole in my head.

“I know you’re a meirleach,” Rhysand said. “And that was why Amarantha kept a tight leash on you. You must have been awfully valuable to her. Tell me, how did she keep a rein on you?”

I stared past Rhysand’s shoulder and scowled. How Amarantha kept a hold on me wasn’t something I liked to discuss. Nor the fact that I could strip even the most powerful fae of their powers like some overgrown leech. I rubbed my finger, the pale ring of skin there showing signs of the ring Amarantha had given me to hold those powers in.

I knew Rhysand looked, but I was grateful he didn’t say anything about it.

“Hybern was hunting you. It seems the king wanted to know where his little spy had run off to. You conveniently disappeared after everything went to hell Under the Mountain,” Rhysand said.

I glanced over the Highlord’s shoulder, rolling my eyes. “I don’t have an allegiance with them, if that’s what you’re wanting to know.” “I know.” I looked back at the male, starting to wonder what he was getting at. He looked at Azriel who shrugged and looked at me. I frowned, curiosity peaking.

Rhysand looked at me, folding his hands. “Myriad, I know that you offered to help Feyre escape Under the Mountain.” I snapped my head around, looking at Rhysand. How…

“She told me about it. That’s why you’re here. Now I don’t trust you, but I do trust that you’re not working for our enemies. You owe allegiance to yourself, which is fair. I can see why.” I licked my lips and drew my feet inward. My whole body itched to run. I knew I wouldn’t get very far at all.

“I want to know if you’d be willing to help our cause. Amarantha’s death didn’t go unheard by Hybern and my sources say that war is on the horizon,” Rhys said.

I set my mug aside and braced my hands on my knees, my face pulling in a frown. “Why? Why are you asking for my help?,” I asked quietly. “Any other court would sooner throw me in a cell for my part Under the Mountain but you’re offering me a bloody job. Why?”

Rhysand shrugged and smiled. I felt claws rake down the back of my mind and I shivered. “Lets just say that I wasn’t Amarantha’s only whore and you’re so driven by vengeance that it’s remarkable.” I snarled and surged to my feet, my power rising up with my temper. Azriel casually shoved off the mantle and stepped closer. I pointed a finger to Rhysand and snarled. “That...how did you know?” Rhysand rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, she told me everything. It was obvious.” He stood up and I found myself looking up at him just a little. He put his hands in his pockets. “I’ll let you say no. I’ll even grant you sanctuary here in Velaris if you’d like,” he said. “You’re half Illyrian, so technically that makes you a Night Court subject and I can give you protection from other courts. I’d like to help you Myriad.”

I shifted on my feet, feeling that tug in my stomach again, something in the back of my head saying “stay.”

“I want a bargain,” I said finally. I’d never made a bargain before, not ever. So I tried to think of everything I wanted that couldn’t be used against me. “If I help you with Hybern , I want full payment. A place to stay, free reign in and out of this court. And I want to be treated like a citizen, not a soldier, or a prisoner.”

Rhysand smiled and held out a hand. I looked at the hand and scowled, taking it after a moment.

“It’s a bargain.”

Rhysand squeezed my hand and I let it go as quickly as I could, remembering the feeling of Rhysand’s power coming to me years ago.

“Tomorrow Azriel will take you to the townhouse. You can meet my inner circle, seeing as how you’ll be working with them the most,” he said, letting go of my hand. I snorted and walked back to my chair, sitting down.

“Perhaps they’ll be better company than my silent watch dog,” I replied, looking pointedly at Azriel. I smiled at him, showing my teeth. The smiled didn’t reach my eyes though.

“Azriel volunteered,” Rhysand said. “I’d be nicer to your watchdog. He let you hit him several times when Majda was patching you up. It was quite entertaining.”

I looked at the Illyrian and felt heat rise up my neck. Azriel seemed just as uncomfortable because he avoided my eyes and found the mantle piece suddenly interesting. “Well, I must get going. I will see you in the morning,” Rhysand said, stretching slightly. “Get your rest, you’ll need it. Oh, and no more jumping out windows, Azriel will catch you every time.” I scowled and watched Rhysand winnow in a swirl of darkness. Once he was gone, I relaxed against the chair and ran my hand over my face, shutting my eyes tiredly. I heard Azriel walk over and sit down across from me.

I put my hand down and looked at the Illyrian, studying him. “How did you recognize me?”

Azriel folded his hands in his lap and shrugged his broad shoulders.

“Your wings,” he said quietly. “When you were flying out of Hybern, I saw your wings. Though it wasn’t until we stopped outside the wall when I pulled the arrow out that I really made the connection. That and...you said a few words here and there.”

I stared at him, following the line of his jaw, down to his squared shoulders. He looked almost uncomfortable.

“I remember you tackled him,” I said, my voice unusually soft. I wanted to kick myself. “Torin I mean...he killed my mother. He easily could’ve killed me. Why’d you stop him?” Azriel shifted in his seat.

“You were a kid.” I stood up and picked up my mug. As I looked at the contents swish around inside I knew that wasn’t the real reason Azriel had stopped the warlord. I didn’t feel like wanting to know the Illyrian’s motives. Slowly walked to the doorway that lead to the stairs, stopping as my hand hit the railing. “Thank you.”

*** *** ***

The morning brought a bath and fresh clothes all of which I desperately needed. From the events of the night before, I had began to get my strength back rather quickly. The healer had told me that it was because the faebane wearing off and my body doing its own work.

Along with my powers returning and my wound healing, I had discovered my bargain tattoo. It was across my shoulders, in the shape of ravens wings. I didn’t quite mind them really. The black, almost purple ink stood out on my tanned skin in a way I rather liked. For a minute I almost imagined what it would be like to have Illyrian tattoos. The thought was gone just as quickly.

My clothes had been laid out on my bed and I dressed quickly, frowning at the blue tunic that had been neatly folded. It was embroidered with silver thread around the hems, much richer in color and fabric than anything I had ever worn. I almost didn’t want to put it on, feeling like I might marr the borrowed item.

The rest of my clothes consisted of leather leggings and a fitted shirt with long sleeves. I suspected Azriel had something to do with my clothes because of how functional they were. I slipped on my boots that I had been wearing when I was captured. They’d been cleaned, thankfully, at least as cleaned as I one could get them.

As soon as I’d dressed, I headed back downstairs, raiding the kitchen of any food that laid about. My belly had made its hunger known and I wasn’t about to walk around with a growling stomach.

I chewed on the apple I’d found, walking around the house looking for my watchdog. I’d had a feeling that he’d been assigned to me for more than just a guide. Which was fair enough considering my past occupation.

I found Azriel in the foyer, reading what looked to be official reports. I cleared my throat, letting my presence be known before I walked in.

“I already knew you were there. You don’t have to cough up your apple to get my attention.” I scowled at the taller Illyrian and took a loud bite of my apple. Azriel looked at me over his papers, his hair falling in his eyes slightly. He raised an eyebrow and folded his papers away. I waved my apple towards the door.

“I’ve got my introductions in place. Let’s go.” Azriel unfurled his wings a little and my eyes were drawn to the large membranous black wings. Shadow still lurked about them, sliding around Azriels’s ears and face. I frowned and threw my apple in a wastebasket by the door.

“What are you?” Azriel raised his eyebrow again and tilted his head. “And Illyrian.” I scowled at the male and wiped my hands on my thighs.

“Like I can’t see, smart ass,” I snapped. “What I meant was--”

“I know what you meant,” Azriel cut in. “I’m a shadowsinger. That’s why I’m Rhys’ spymaster.” I looked up at Azriel, stiffening when he walked over and held out a hand. I stared at the scarred hand then the blue siphon on top of it. I had heard of shadowsingers, but never seen one before. Tales said they were dangerous and I had no doubt at all that Azriel could kill me in half a second. I looked back up at him, meeting his eyes for a minute before I looked at the buckle on his shoulder plate.

“Oh,” I managed to get out. I looked back at the hand and scuffed my feet.

“We can walk if you don’t want to winnow,” Azriel said, withdrawing his hand. I hurriedly grabbed his hand, gripping it a little too tight.

“Just winnow.”

I could have sworn I saw something like curiosity in Azriel’s eyes before we winnowed away in shadow, the familiar cold rushing about me.

It was a second before we landed in another foyer, this one much richer than the healer’s humble house. There were rugs coating the floor and paintings lining the spacious foyer walls.

I let go of Azriel’s hand and stepped away from him, folding my arms over my chest. “Your highlord has good taste,” I said, looking at the carpet under my feet.

“Even if it’s not good for anything but sitting and collecting dust.” I looked up, catching sight of another Illyrian, this one bigger than Azriel. He had a look on his face that I found distasteful in every way. A womanizer for sure. “Another one of Rhysand’s watch dogs?” I sneered, looking at the male. He simply laughed in return and looked at Azriel. “Fetching little thing, isn’t she? Such nice manners.” “Says the one who has no manners.”

There, coming down the staircase was a female, highfae by the looks of her. She was absolutely breathtaking. Her golden hair was unbound, bouncing around her shoulders as she trotted down the stairs, smirking at the new male. I suddenly felt incredibly grubby compared to the her.

However, she took a look at me and her smile faltered for the barest second, almost so fast I didn’t catch it. I tilted my chin up, clenching my teeth. Whatever she saw in me, it obviously wasn’t something pleasant. Nevertheless, the fae walked right up to me and extended a hand.

“I’m Mor,” she said, fixing her smile. I frowned, but took the hand and lightly shook it.

“Myriad.”

“Fox,” said the larger Illyrian. I looked up at him and scowled. I didn’t like to be called that. “How clever. Do you study names?” I said more hotly than intended. Mor snorted and looked up at the Male.

“Cassian just likes to point out the obvious.” My scowl froze and melted off my face and I took a step back, staring up at the male. Oh Cauldron….

“You’re…” I swallowed and stared at Cassian. He was one of the most powerful Illyrian generals in existence. Even I had heard of him. Usually it wasn’t very nice things, if you weren’t on the right side. He’d fought in the War alongside Rhysand before I was born.

Cassian merely grinned at me and went to slouch in an armchair. Mor rolled her eyes and shook her pretty head.

“Don’t inflate his ego anymore than it already is.”

I held my arms at my side and was silent, feeling rather out of place with the playful banter. I shuffled slightly until Mor offered me a seat on a rather comfortable looking couch. I took it and she perched next to me, giving me side glances every so often.

“So Rhysand says you’re going to be working with us,” Cassian said, slinging his leg over the armrest.

I nodded and rubbed my knees.

“Yes. We...made a bargain.” Mor raised bother her eyebrows and twisted a strand of hair around her finger.

“That’s interesting.”

“What’s even more interesting is that he invited a Meirleach into his circle. I’ve never met one of your kind before.” I stiffened and watched as a short female walked into the room. I stared at her, my breath catching in my throat. I knew she wasn’t fae at all, she felt different, like a monster hiding in a fae’s skin. I could feel my face drain of color, my eyes meeting her silver ones. They seemed to glow as she stared back, a smile coming over her red lips. She tilted a head in my direction, her blunt hair shifting slightly.

My powers uninvitedly poked forward, tasting the air between us, curious to see what the creature was in front of me. I hardly had any control over the power hungry tendrils that stole what wasn’t mine.

The female in front of me leveled a stare so penetrating towards me that I reined in my powers, stuffing them back inside my mind.

“I wouldn’t be so bold little halfbreed. You may not like what you steal,” the female said. I blinked, feeling ill. I realized the room had gone quiet and the fae present were staring at me like I was some sort of exotic exhibition. The distrust I hadn’t seen earlier was clear in their eyes now. Their seemingly welcoming behavior had been a feint, feeling me out.

“I-I’m sorry,” I whispered, shrinking back, feeling quite like a little child in the presence of the old being. I felt like I did have to apologize. “I-I don’t always have control over it. It gets curious.” The female smiled a little coldly and sat down in an armchair, sitting on her crossed legs.

“Forgiven,” she said. She looked around, raising a dark eyebrow. “Cat finally got your tongues?”

Cassian scowled at the female and sat up more.

“Not everyone is as calm as you Amren,” he said. He looked at me and I became very interested in my fingers, picking at a loose thread in my tunic. I could feel the questions that remained unspoken.

“Where’s Rhys?” Amren asked, toying with a heavy gold necklace she was wearing.

“Tsk, so impatient, Amren.”

Rhysand stepped into the foyer, his hands in his pockets. Behind him was another female fae. With a start, I realized she was the girl from Under the Mountain.

Feyre met my eyes and I held the stare, feeling very naked in front of her. She frowned at me, her eyes starting with recognition as well.

“You were Under the Mountain,” she said abruptly. I stood up, wiping my hands down. I nodded and dipped my head slightly.

“Yes. I was.” Feyre looked at Rhysand and frowned, like they were having a silent conversation. Feyre looked back at me and walked forward. She wasn’t any taller than I remembered. She felt so different though, not like any other fae.

I looked down at her, feeling my lips pull up.

“I remember you,” Feyre said flatly. “Rhysand didn’t tell me you’d be here.”

“I suppose he wanted you to make your own opinions of me,” I replied slowly. Feyre pursed her lips and looked me over. I saw something flash in her eyes and I folded my hands behind me.

“You were very brave,” I said lowly. I was indebted to this female on a personal level. She had defeated Amarantha, freeing Prythian,but also...she had freed me. I had been a slave to the self-appointed queen. I realized then that I was indebted. I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of it either.

“You offered me freedom and you meant it,” Feyre said finally. “You would have helped me leave.”

I wasn’t sure what I would have done. Perhaps I would have tried to set her free, just so I didn't have to watch another Clare Beddor get slowly ripped apart and tortured again if Feyre failed. Maybe it was for my own peace of mind and not for Feyre’s well being that I offered to help her get away. My own selfish ambitions? Still, I don’t know why I had offered, what had prompted me to say those things. I felt Feyre staring at me, waiting for me to say anything.

I looked up at her, meeting her hard gray eyes. There was very little kindness there, very little of anything. They were hollow, scarred. They had seen too much and now they were seeing me and I did my best to hide from her piercing gaze.

“I’m sorry you never came with me,” I said lowly after what seemed like hours of silence. “I’m sorry about what happened to you.”

Feyre’s lips pressed together and her brows drew forward in an expression of confusion. “Are you really sorry at all?” I had no answer.

*** *** ***

I kept getting these glances by Rhysand and Amren through the day. I was invited to stay for dinner, afterwards I was told I could roam about the city as I pleased. Azriel wouldn’t be accompanying me, much to my joy as he had gone off to speak with some contacts of his.

“I don’t appreciate being the subject of silent conversation,” I said, swallowing a fork full of greens. From where he sat, I heard Cassian snort into his wine. I shot him a look, feeling like a sulky child.

Rhysand rather delicately sipped his wine and waited a good minute before speaking.

“I was interested in how well you can control your powers. Amren told me you tried to steal hers.” The food in my mouth turned to ash. I looked up and rubbed my right ring finger, deciding to give an honest answer.

“I didn’t try to. It just happened. It...depends on the power. The more powerful the fae, the more interested it becomes and it reaches out towards it,” I explained. “It...feels like another side to my consciousness. I can’t always summon it up and I can’t always restrain it. Amarantha...had me...use it to strip fae of their power.” I shuddered and looked up, holding up my left hand, pointing the the white untanned skin on my ring finger.

“Any power I took went to a ring that she had made for me. It was...like a siphon almost. Once it was filled she took the power as her own.” Amren folded her fingers under her chin and tilted her head, watching me.

“Did you keep any of the power?” I shook my head.

“No. I never could.” “The fae you took from, what happened to them?” Amren asked. I looked at her and then down at my plate. I reached for my glass of wine, taking a healthy sip. I could hear the faint screams in my head. Sounds of torture. I saw clearly the blank looks in their eyes when they’d been sucked dry. Any spark of magic being drained from them left them husks of what they once were. I had stolen more than a life. I had stolen a soul.

“They would have been better off dead.”

I looked up, catching Rhysand’s eyes. “I’m not proud of what I did,” I said. “I would take it all back if I could, but I can’t and nothing I can do can reverse what I did. I suppose that means I have to make up for it by doing something...worth while for a change.” Amren snorted, as if she could care less what I was capable of.

“To think that Hybern had its hands on you,” she said. She tilted her head, her eyes shimmering with suspicion. “Why’d he let you go. No one escapes from there so easily. It’s hard enough to penetrate.” I opened my mouth, to say I almost died getting away. I was going to tell them of what the king had said, what he’d made me do.

“The King…”

Just like that, my mind went blank. Nothing. I could remember nothing of what I was going to say or do. I blinked at Amren, my eyes suddenly unfocusing.

Remember, you can’t say a word. It’ll spoil all the fun.

There was a roaring in my ears and fire in my veins. I doubled over, my hands going to my middle. I felt like my insides were being eaten by fire, my blood replaced by blades.

Myriad. Through my pain, I felt darkness. It was soft and comforting, close too. Like a presence in my mind.

I realized someone was holding my face and I was on the floor. I blinked, staring up at silver eyes belonging to Amren. I was panting, feeling sick. I rolled over, wretching to the side. Thankfully nothing came up.

“Cauldron, what was that?!” I heard Cassian say. Mor said something that I couldn’t catch.

Amren bent down and tilted her head, looking at me.

“I think...it’s a curse.” I couldn’t remember what she was talking about. What I had been about to say that caused so much pain.

“Whatever it is, it’s blocked,” Rhysand said. I looked away from both of them and stifled a sudden sob, the sound being wretched from me. I knew if I started, it would only lead to hysterics.

Breath.

I took a shuddering breath, wishing desperately for space.

“I’m alright,” I finally rasped. I looked at Amren, searching her face. “What happened?” “You fell out of your chair screaming,” she said. “After you mentioned Hybern.” I flinched at the name and ran a hand through my hair. I rested my arms on my knees.

“What kind of curse?”

“An old one it seems,” she replied.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head. “I seem to be a popular person,” I said finally.

“We’ll find a way to break it, Myriad,” he said. I nodded gratefully and looked at him.

“Thank you...for dragging me out.” Rhysand tilted his head, an eyebrow raising curiously.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“I heard someone call my name,” I said evenly. I stood up and Rhysand glanced at each me. I flushed and shook my head.

“Never mind,” I said. I felt a prickle on my neck and I looked across the table as Azriel materialized from shadow into the dining room.

“What happened?”

The shadowsinger looked directly at me and I stared at him, my breath stopping in my chest. It snapped into place like a hammer driving a nail through my soul. I stood stock still, staring at the Illyrian I didn’t know, who’d saved me on several occasions in my life.

I stumbled back a step and winnowed despite the wards around the house.

I knew who had called my name and I knew why.

The shadowsinger was my mate.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #sarah j. maas #fanfiction

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sarah-bae-maas · 7 years

Text

A Court of Hearts and Darkness Chapter Twenty One

It’s been over a century since the epic and bloody war against Hybern, but a new, unprecedented horror lies in wait to threaten everything the Inner Circle holds dear.

At a mere 17, it seems that the only one who can save them is the Heir to the Night Court, Feyre and Rhysand’s daughter Eleana, but as a creature so vile promises to kill everyone she loves, she must combat the urge to succumb to the darkness herself. The key to success lies hidden within her mate, the bastard born Kaden, who is as oblivious to the bond as her Court is oblivious to the war on the horizon.

With the help of her cousin and warrior Felix, the son of the famed Nesta and Cassian, they will try to save everything they hold dear, hopefully before the darkness takes them all.

(This fic was written pre-acowar, so please bear in mind there are some small differences but it can still hopefully be enjoyed!)

Link on Ao3 Masterlist

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***

Kaden was breathing heavily by the end of training; all the Elite were. Felix had really put them through the rounds, and in the middle of the night too. To believe that it had only been eight hours since he and Eleana had been together… It was only eight hours, and it was the best of his life. Felix had called the Elite for training that night though, which meant he hadn’t been able to find her since they’ separated and all he wanted to do was hunt her down and bury himself in her again, hopefully making her moan like he had all afternoon.

“You look cheery.” Felix said as he approached him. The Elite were beginning to disperse, so it was just Felix and Kaden lingering on the training field. Kaden hadn’t had the chance to tell Felix about what happened yet, but he was excited to.

“That would be because I’m feeling awfully cheery.” Kaden replied.

“I feel like no session is good enough to put that look on your face. What’s going on?” Felix was grinning as he removed the armour he was wearing and took off all his various weapons. “And how is your magic feeling? Still burnt out?”

“It’s getting better, but I’m not too worried. I don’t think I’ll have to do that again any time soon, hopefully ever.” Kaden started to help Felix pack up all the stuff he’s laid out for the Elite to do, and everyone else had scattered back to their homes to sleep.

“So why are you so chirpy? I’m glad one of us is.” Felix next smile was a forced one, and now that Kaden had a hint of how his friend was really feeling, he couldn’t see anything other than the pain in his eyes.

Kaden decided his news could wait. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry.” Felix looked slightly alarmed. “I shouldn’t have said that. Tell me about you, what happened after you left with Laya?”

“What happened when you met Theodosia?” Kaden countered.

Felix stopped in his tracks, and Kaden could see him clenching his jaw. “It doesn’t matter. I want to hear about what you did, bask in the glory that is Kaden.” Felix was grinning again, his moods swinging between miserable and elated in seconds.

The night session with the Elite had been a particularly brutal one – Felix claimed that they needed to be able to do anything despite being tired or hungry. Kaden realised that maybe Felix just really needed take his frustrations out on something in the only way he knew how.

“If I tell you, you have to promise that we’ll have a drink at yours afterwards and we’ll sort out whatever is happening.”

“You’re only making me more intrigued by being so mysterious.” Felix drawled. “Deal. Now what’s put that kick in your step?” Felix continued to disarm himself.

“Eleana and I are together. Now tell me about you.”

Felix snorted in shock and put a hand over his heart. “You can’t just drop news like that and expect the conversation to move on! I was expecting you to say something along the lines of ‘today I stared longingly at Eleana and she didn’t even notice and it was so great can’t wait to go wallow in my own pity some more because we’re not together even though we totally can be’. And now you are! You’re together! Kaden!” Felix engulfed him in a hug. “I’m so happy for you!”

Kaden was glad there was now a genuine smile on his friend’s face, and that he had someone to share the wonderful news with. “There’s not much more to say. I took her to that little lake you showed me to talk, and we ended up, uh, talking for a long time. I told her how I actually feel.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “I hope you enjoyed all your talking.”

“Definitely. I love talking. I even talked in that way you told me some females might secretly like.”

“Okay I’m a bit confused now. You mean to tell me you put something up her bu-”

“And then we went swimming. Now you talk about your day.” Kaden picked up a bag of weapons, and Felix shouldered one too. Together, they started walking towards his home.

“I don’t usually talk in front of others.” Felix winked.

“Oh ha ha.” Kaden said sarcastically. “We both know your favourite way to talk is with as many people as you can. Now hurry along, we don’t have all day.”

“Theodosia’s beautiful, she really is. She’ll look a lot like Quathryn when she grows.”

“And? I don’t think it was Thea’s cuteness that has made you feel down.”

Felix shrugged. “My parents and I fought, and then they left for Velaris. I don’t know when they’ll be back.”

“What did you fight about?” Kaden stopped walking and turned to Felix. He was exhausted, and Felix clearly was too. But whatever they’d fought about was clearly weighing heavily on his friend, and Kaden doubted he’d get even a wink while worrying about him.

“It doesn’t matter; it is what it is.” Felix didn’t stop.

“It matters, Felix. So just tell me.” Kaden hurried after him, jogging to get back to his side.

Felix abruptly turned and stopped in front of Kaden, blocking his path. “So now that you’re with Eleana will you move out of that tent? Your room is still available, and Laya can stay anytime she wants.”

Kaden sighed quietly at Felix’s attempt to change the subject. “No, Felix. For the last time, I’m not going to move in with you. I don’t know why you keep insisting. I have my tent, which I am perfectly happy with, and if I want more than that I can stay in Velaris.”

Felix’s face fell ever so slightly, and he backed off from Kaden. “Whatever. I’m going home.” Felix, in a noticeably Archeron fashion, winnowed away.

Kaden was not having any of that shit. Felix, although the most lovable person Kaden knew, was as emotionally stunted as a cactus sometimes. If Kaden didn’t speak to him now then Felix’s rage would fester and turn into insecurities and misery – neither things he wanted for his friend. More so, Kaden worried about him. A lot. Before they had separated, Eleana had mentioned that she feared the effect Theodosia would have on Felix. Kaden took every word she said as fact, and if she was scared enough to confide in him then that was cause enough for him to demand Felix speak to him.

Kaden made it to the house and ran into the door. Physically ran into it, as it refused to open.

“Really?” Kaden shouted. “You’re going to magic me out? Open the bloody door you ass!”

This was not how he had planned to spend his night, or more accurately, the few hours before the sun rose. He had planned to sneak into Eleana’s room, maybe make them some breakfast, maybe whisk her away to Velaris so he could fuck her in his soundproof room. Maybe he would just cuddle her, and chase away her nightmares. No matter what he was going to do, it didn’t include being tempted to break into his best-friend’s house so they could have a forced heart to heart chat.

Kaden banged on the door again, and was surprised to see that there was no light at all coming from the house, nor any sounds. Against his better judgement and at the risk of Eleana and Felix’s wrath, he touched his burnt magic just long enough to see if he could sense any life in the house. It zipped through each room and not a single person was home.

Great. Just fantastic. It would take more magic than he had to track Felix down, something the older Illyrian likely knew.

Kaden slumped against the door and let himself slide to the ground. He recapped his own day: he connected the soul of his best friend’s sister back to her body, burnt out his magic, had wild sex with the woman of his dreams and confessed his undying love for her, trained with the Elite until his bones were nothing but jelly and pissed off said best friend about something he was unaware of.

This had been one hell of a day. Would he be judged if he fell asleep leaning against a door? He guessed yes, but that didn’t stop him from closing his eyes. He would just rest them while he waited for Felix to come back.

While he was waiting, he felt a piece of paper slip into his hand. Perplexed, he groggily opened it and gave it a read.

I was trying to think of different ways to tell you I love you.

It was unmistakably Eleana’s writing.

And I couldn’t think of a way to say it better. So just as a reminder, I love you I love you I love you. I’ll see you again in the morning.

Completely and utterly yours,

Eleana.

He couldn’t contain the smile that crossed his face, so wide and insistent that it made his cheeks ache. No matter what happened tonight he still had this, had her.

Felix would come back in his own time, but right now there was nothing Kaden could do for him. If he had his magic it would be a different story, but while he was still barely in grasp of it there was another Archeron he could make very happy.

He got up, the kick from before back in his step, and shot into the sky as he made his way to the love of his life.

____

Eleana couldn’t sleep – not an unusual event. She had long ago kicked off her blankets from the heat, and since then she’d tossed and turned. After leaving Kaden, she’d come home to find her parents cuddled on the couch waiting for her. They’d all had dinner and then ice-cream together before retiring to their rooms. And since then, all she could think about was her mate, and her body had been writhing with want ever since.

She was on the verge of binging on chocolate and books when she heard a slight tapping at her (finally repaired) window. The last noise in her room had been the sound of her pen scraping against the paper as she wrote Kaden a love note, something she definitely wanted to make a tradition.

She got up from her bed to inspect the noise, expecting to have to shoo away birds or drunk Illyrians. She pulled the glass up and leaned out, a happy gasp escaping her at the sight she was met with. Standing with a grin on his face and a hand full of pebbles was Kaden, his leathers still on and his gorgeous hair ruffled.

“What are you doing here?” She whispered down to him.

“Oh Lady Eleana, my love, I have come to confess my adoration for thee-”

She shushed him quickly with a gesture over her mouth but a smile on her lips. “You’ll wake my parents, and you really don’t want my father catching you.”

“Why ever so fair maiden?” He batted his eyelashes at her.

“You think you’re the first Illyrian to profess his love for me? The last was interrogated by half the High Lords in Prythian.”

Kaden’s face dropped. “Are you serious?” he hissed.

Eleana sat on her window hill with her legs hanging over the side, gently knocking against the stone of her house. She nodded down at him. “Mhm. There was my father, that’s one, Tarquin, he’s always loved me the best, Uncle Lucien, who can be very scary when he wants to be, Glaslane, he’s very protective, Helion, who’s quite charming but probably the scariest of the bunch, and Kallias and Thesan came just to watch. Hey, I guess that means all the High Lords where there.”

Eleana had never seen the kind of fear that was on Kaden’s face before, and it made her giggle.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking.” He choked.

“No need to fret my love, I was young and I’m sure they all got it out of their system then.”

“How old were you?” he asked gravely.

Eleana hopped out her window and spread her wings to glide to the ground. She landed elegantly in front of him and immediately wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him close. “It was a pretty serious relationship. His name was Barney and we met at tutoring. He was an attractive older man, you know? I was ten, and he was twelve and we held hands and everything-”

“Why must you tease me like this?” He rolled his eyes at her antics.

“I’m serious! I had the biggest crush on him, and there was this party all the High Lords and Ladies were attending and I begged my mother and father to let him come. He did, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s scarred for life and traumatized to this day.” She kissed his forehead. “The funny thing is though that he was fine right up until my protective, seventeen-year-old cousin Felix interrogated him. I was so mad, didn’t talk to him for weeks because of it.” She smoothed back his hair, and shivered as he placed his hands on her waist.

Kaden looked down at her with his depthless black eyes. “All I want to do right now is kiss you until the sun rises.” He leant down and kissed her softly. “But all I can think about right now is Felix.”

Eleana noted the taste of his lips on her tongue and his hands tight on her body. “Felix?” It was her cousin he was thinking about right now?

Kaden let go of her but trailed his fingers down her arms to link their hands. “We fought today, and I feel sick to my stomach about it.” He started walking away from her house, taking her along with him. She was still in her pyjamas, shorts and an old t-shirt, but she shrugged and went along anyway. She was also intrigued by the fight Kaden had with Felix. Those two were like an old married couple, she didn’t know if what they constituted as an argument was an actual fight.

“What happened?”

“I don’t even know.” He threw one arm up into the air. “We were talking about me and you and him and Thea and suddenly he just stormed off. Emotional winnowing should be banned by the way.”

“Tell me exactly what he said.” Eleana could see that Kaden was leading them in the direction of his tent and was happy she’d be able to sit or lie down.

“He told me about how he’d had a fight with his parents, but didn’t want to talk about it because he wanted to talk about us instead. By the way, he’s thrilled we’re together.” Kaden took a tired breath. “He asked me to move in and I said no and that’s when he got mad. But I don’t understand why! He asks me every other day and I always say no. Why now is he getting upset about it? That’s the only conceivable thing I can think he’d be pissy over.”

They completed the short walk to his tent. Kaden looked at it and then her, and started walking away. She didn’t need him to say he was embarrassed for her to be there for her to understand that was the reason he was suddenly changing direction. So she let go of his hand and let him walk off, and then proceeded to crawl into the open space to lie flat on her back, patiently waiting for him to join her.

He came back eventually and gave her an are you serious look.

She grinned at him and he caved. He collapsed next to her and let her arrange herself until she was comfortable, half on top of him with her face in the crook of his neck.

“What did you say to him exactly when you said no?” She questioned.

“I said I was happy with my tent, and if I ever wanted to upgrade I had my room in Velaris.”

Eleana groaned as soon as he finished his sentence. Of course Felix would be mad about that, or, not mad per se, but devastated.

“Do you know what’s going on? Because I still don’t.” He sighed.

“I think Felix believes that at some point we’re all going to leave him. As far as I know Thea and Quathryn aren’t going to train here when they’re older, and Nesta and Cassian aren’t going to come back. I’m the heir to the Night Court, there was never any question about where I would end up. More than that, as much as I love flying, I consider myself more like a fae than an Illyrian, a point where Felix and I differ greatly. He’s already imagining a situation where our whole family is living their lives separate from him.”

Eleana straddled Kaden and sat up so she could talk to him easier. Her hands were braced on his chest, but she let her fingers whirl around and draw imaginary patterns. “You know you’re his best friend, and we both know that nothing can change that, but I think he believes that you’ll leave him too, and then he’ll be truly alone.” Her last few words were whispered, and met with a solemn silence.

“I would never.” Kaden’s voice broke.

“I know.”

“I said those things about leaving to go to Velaris. Can you find him? I need to explain.”

Eleana nodded, and as much as it pained her, got off Kaden and stood up, exiting his tent and waiting for him to join her. If Felix was distressed there’s only one place he would go. They walked hand in hand through the night, listening to the sounds of Illyrians waking up to prepare for dawn duty. Eleana walked slowly to compensate for the lagging Kaden, who had been awake for close to a full day. His steps were dragging and his face fallen and disconcertingly ashy, but that didn’t mean that every time he caught her staring at him the gleam in his eyes didn’t return. He would kiss her lips gently and smile, and they would continue on their way.

Eventually, they made it to the place where Felix was. They walked to the front door and made their way in. There was no need to knock in a place like this, not if you were Eleana or Kaden. Inside the familiar share house for bastards was nothing but the noise of the cook preparing breakfast for the children. Or so Eleana thought. As they walked down the hallway maids were carrying trays upon trays of steaming mugs filled with hot chocolate.

She knitted her eyebrows in confusion and followed the maids, and her heart tightened at the sight she found.

Inside the library was Felix on a chair with a worn book in his hands. All the young children had gathered around him on the floor in their dressing gowns and were listening raptly to every word he spoke. He was telling them the most fantastical stories with dragons and warriors, and he was so involved with what he was doing that he didn’t even notice Kaden or Eleana’s entrance.

They watched as the maids handed out the hot chocolate and smiled at the looks of wonder on the children’s faces. It was almost comical, the way this man born and bred to kill could entertain the younglings so well and innocently.

Kaden stepped behind Eleana and wrapped his arms around her, resting his weary head on her shoulder. Kaden and Felix could talk, but first, he wanted to hear the story too. At one point, Felix had looked up and seen Kaden and Eleana. He paused for a single second, and then continued as if he had just stopped for dramatic effect.

When Felix had finished, the children were still utterly enraptured. They wanted just one more, but Felix made them all go back to their beds and told the hired staff to let them sleep in.

As the children were bustling out calling their thanks to Felix, the male himself approached them.

“Kaden you should be sleeping, and Eleana, if Rhys or Feyre find out you’ve snuck out-”

“I’m so sorry,” Kaden interrupted, “about what I said. I was being inconsiderate towards your feelings, and I should’ve known that implying I’d go to Velaris would hurt you.” Kaden disconnected himself from Eleana to stand in front of his best friend, his hands raised to settle on his shoulders. “Can we please just talk about what happened with Cassian and Nesta? You always listen to me, and I want to be that for you to but you have to give me the chance.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, not really. I guess I’m just sad.” Felix pulled away and walked towards the bay window to sit. Kaden followed, but Eleana watched and listened from a distance.

“Why?”

The two men sat and faced each other, and for the first time ever, Felix spoke about how he was truly feeling. It may have been the exhaustion that made him so open, or it could just be that he finally trusted someone enough to share that part of himself. Either way, Eleana felt more at rest than she had in months when he finally opened up about his issues with his parents. When he saw the Impeath, he hadn’t just seen them, he’d also seen and heard every fear he’d ever had concerning being their son – whether he was good enough, why they were so eager to replace him with another child, if he could ever live up to the Archeron name. Some he admitted were from his own unfounded insecurities, others he felt we valid from moments scattered throughout his childhood. His parents giving him to Azriel or Rhys for the day so they wouldn’t have to care for him while they tried for another child, which they started doing before Felix was even two years old. Eleana recollected her own memory from eight months ago, the time those Illyrians were killed and Felix was given the task to investigate. Felix had hugged Cass, and Cassian had said he was too old for that. Eleana had wondered at the time why Felix had flinched, but it now she say it with perfect clarity. More so, now that Felix’s family had officially decided to stay in Velaris, Felix felt stuck between wanting to train the Elite, lead armies and be a general like his father, and wanting to be there to see his sisters grow up.

These were things that were ingrained in Felix, and it would be a long time before that changed. But as the two males hugged in front of her, both with tears in their eyes, she could see that they were all willing to try their best to get there.

#acohad #a court of hearts and darkness #feysand #nessian #kalix #eleaden

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sarah-bae-maas · 7 years

Text

A Court of Hearts and Darkness Chapter Fifteen

It’s been over a century since the epic and bloody war against Hybern, but a new, unprecedented horror lies in wait to threaten everything the Inner Circle holds dear.

With the help of her cousin and warrior Felix, the son of the famed Nesta and Cassian, they will try to save everything they hold dear, hopefully before the darkness takes them all.

Link on Ao3 Masterlist

One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen

***

Eleana was ready to go, just waiting for Kaden to hurry up. Who knew getting dressed could be such as task?

“Hurry up you bastard!” Felix was also impatient. He had offered them his house to get ready, since it’s not like they had anywhere else to go. For the next two days, Felix was taking the Elite on a mission to the mortal lands. Eleana’s mother was under the assumption that that’s where her daughter was going to be. It wasn’t a lie, per se, Eleana was going to be with a member of the Elite, just not the one she was related to.

Eleana stared down at the dress she had chosen for the wedding. It was backless, like all her dresses, but was held up by a halter around her neck. From the neck, it parted in two to cover her breasts but leave a sliver of skin exposed. It cinched at her waist, and then flowed down like a waterfall. When she walked or turned, she giggled from the way it would swoosh around her. She had chosen to wear black, but silver detailing in patterns of roses (what else for her?) covered the whole dress. Her hair was in a tight bun so that when she went flying it wouldn’t mess up.

Her and Kaden would do a lot of flying today. Firstly, they had to fly to the camp he was raised in so they could join his father and brothers on the trip to the ceremony. It was a decision Kaden had agonized over, and one Eleana helped him make. In the end, and despite everything, Kaden had wanted to try and get the approval of his father, and Eleana said that she would stand by him no matter what he chose to do. He had also told her that he would like for her to see where he had grown up, and they would likely never get another opportunity.

Kaden emerged from Felix’s room and Eleana stifled a laugh at the sight. Felix wasn’t so polite.

“Holy Mother, you look ridiculous!” Felix burst.

Kaden looked like he was being tortured. The suit they had borrowed – or stolen, depending on your morals – from Azriel was far too short at both the ankles and the wrists. It was like when Eleana had stolen her father’s clothes as a child and worn them around the house, except this was as if Rhys had stolen hers.

“I would scathe you for your tone, but you’re right.” Kaden groaned.

Eleana stood up from her position on Felix’s armchair, revealing herself to him as she did so.

“Maybe one of Felix’s will-”

“Oh.” He said involuntarily as he looked at her. His expression was full of awe, and his mouth had opened slightly in shock at the sight of her.

Felix rolled his eyes and hit the bottom of Kaden’s chin so his mouth would close.

“I can see where your thought is going, Laya, but I don’t own anything appropriate for a wedding. I can go raid my father’s closet though and see if there’s anything there.” He suggested. “Or…”

Kaden and Eleana both looked up at his tone. Kaden, who always became suspicious when Felix talked like that, squinted his eyes at the male.

“…I may have something perfect lying around just waiting to be worn. Stay here my friends.” Felix lightly jogged into his guest room, and came out with another suit on a hanger.

It was beautiful. It was the same dark black as Eleana’s dress, matching right down to the silver roses. The roses on the suit snaked up his wrist, ending at his forearm, and the same was on his ankle to the top of his calf. It also had the same detailing on the lapels. Even better, it looked big enough that it might properly fit Kaden.

“Where did you get this?” Her mate asked.

“I had it made as a gift. The tailer still had your measurements from when you got your leathers done. No soldier of mine will look anything less than dashing at a formal event. So? What do you think?”

Eleana was cowed by the kindness in Felix’s actions, and it seemed Kaden was too. His mouth was gaping again, this time more like a fish out of stream.

“How much did this cost you?” He asked.

“I am privileged enough for money to mean nothing to me. The cost doesn’t matter, all that matters is that it matches Eleana’s dress perfectly.” Felix’s tone was joking, but Kaden was nothing but serious.

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Go have a good time – that’s thanks enough. Besides, after this is over is when shit starts to get serious.”

A detail that was weighing heavily on Eleana’s mind. After what she had seen Under the Mountain, it was decided that they finally needed to tell the Inner Circle what was going on. They had even gone to Velaris, Kaden included, before Eleana pulled Felix back just as he was about to knock on her home’s door.

If they told them now, there was no freedom for any of them from that moment forward. They would be scrutinized, nit-picked, and as selfish as it was Eleana didn’t want to give up her dance with Kaden. So she convinced the two males to wait until after the wedding to tell the adults.

They had agreed.

Kaden left the room to try on his new suit, and Eleana sat on the arm of the couch.

“Be careful with his family, Laya. I fear the way they’ll torment him.” Felix warned.

“I can handle them. I won’t put up with any nonsense.” She put what she would do lightly. If they tried to hurt him, it would make Amarantha look merciful.

“I hate that he’s going. I would’ve preferred him blowing off his family, even if it was to just make the statement that he no longer belongs to them. But it’s his choice, and I’ll respect it.” Felix sighed.

Eleana knew Felix worried about his friend a great deal more than he was letting on, and smiled at the thought of it. Even if everything went to shit with Kaden and her, she knew he would always have Felix. Once you had Felix, he was hard to shake.

Like a disease.

Kaden came out then, it was much easier getting into a suit when it actually fit you, and he was…

“This is much better. I don’t know how I’ll repay you.” Kaden walked to Felix and the two hugged one another. Of course, they had to make it ‘manly’ by clapping each other’s back too, but it was still cute.

Kaden turned to her and spread his hands out so she could take him in. He did a theatrical swirl for her, bowing at the end. She laughed at his antics, too stunned to do anything else.

The dark colour of the suit only made his skin and hair shine brighter. His eyes were the only thing that matched the deep black.

“I think one improvement can be made.” She quipped.

He raised an eyebrow and grinned. “What might that be?”

She walked to a set of draws and opened the top one. She wasn’t sure if they’d go with their clothes, which is why she hadn’t brought them out sooner, but now she was positive. First, she pulled out the crown that suriel had given her and carefully placed it on her head. Then, she got its twin - the crown made perfectly for her mate.

Kaden looked shocked at seeing his crown in her hands. He was probably wondering when she had taken the time out of her day to rummage through his things to find it.

She carefully walked over to him, and reached up and placed it on his wavy hair. It fit perfectly, just as it had the night she had found it.

“Now we’re perfect.” She whispered to him.

Kaden shook his head, the fit of his crown so perfect it didn’t budge a bit, and kissed her forehead. “You are welcome to wear yours, Eleana, but if I’m seen wearing a crown it would be considered a great insult to my father and yours. I doubt they would let me go if they saw it.” He took it off gently, like it mattered to him.

Eleana could understand his reasoning. There was just a small part of her that wanted to show him off. Not just as the brilliant male he was, but also to mark him as hers.

“Next time.” She shrugged and pulled hers off as well. He grabbed her hands while they were still raised, and tried to guide them back to her head. She resisted though, and his face fell slightly. “They’re a set. I’m not wearing mine if you don’t wear yours.”

“What if there is never an occasion?”

She winked at him. “I’ll sure there will be one day.”

_____

The camp Kaden was raised in was very like her own. All camps were, in a way. When they flew there, he did not take her directly to his house. He started with the markets, where he admitted once or twice (likely much more) he stole bread when he was hungry. The old woman who ran the stall would beat his hands with a stick, but he noticed that some days – ones where he looked especially scrawny – she would put some in an awfully inconvenient place to be sold just when he came near, and then would pointedly look away.

Then he took her to the Hot Springs. They didn’t go too close, it was full of bathing Illyrians, but he told her how it was the only thing he missed. “My father would let me use them every time I won a duel or fight. I was a very cleanly child.” He told her.

He said it would be an utter travesty if he let her live another day without trying the famous pastries a local female was known for. They were fluffy and full of custard, and both Eleana and Kaden mutually agreed that Felix’s were better.

He also showed her a large oak tree on the outskirts of the camp that he and his brothers had carved their names into all on their tenth birthdays. His brother’s names had been there for hundreds of years, and Kaden hadn’t expected his name to join them. His present from his father that year was a knife and permission to scrawl his name below theirs.

It was still mid-morning before they started walking to his childhood home, drawing many gazes as they did.

Kaden was the most recognizable Illyrian Eleana had ever known. An incredible warrior, extremely handsome, blonde haired, fae, and the bastard son of the camp’s Lord. She also doubted there was anyone who didn’t realise who she was. She looked far too much like her father to be mistaken for anyone else.

As soon as they could see the two-story house in the distance, Kaden tensed up. Her hand was in his, and he squeezed her hand so tight her skin went white.

“Kaden.” She soothed.

He released his grip on her. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t take his hand back, but did link her arm through his.

His house looked normal enough. It was big enough to accommodate Kaden’s large family comfortably, and looked lived in and loved rather than desolate like Eleana was expecting. She had to remind herself that no matter how pretty it looked on the outside, the inside was where far the more sinister things happened.

They approached the house. Kaden straightened his back and fidgeted with his suit. He was obviously nervous, it was the first time he had seen them in months after all, and he was putting her on edge too. Before he could open the door to let him in, she stopped him.

“You once told me that your brothers nearly killed you because they saw you talking to a spirit. Is that why you left?” She needed to know before she went in. Needed to know so that she could brace herself.

“Partly. There are many reasons. Foremost being that they knew I was innocent of hurting that child, and they shunned me further anyway.” He gritted his teeth.

“They have no power over you anymore.” She leaned into him.

“They are my family, and try as I might, they are my only family. It’s them or nothing.” He unlooped his arm from hers so that he could instead put it around her waist. “Are you ready?” He asked.

“Are you?”

Turns out neither of them had to be, as the door was opened before they could knock.

Eleana’s gaze was met with that of an older gentleman – obviously more mature. He wore the decorum of a Lord, and carried himself like one. His suit was pristine and pressed, only the best for a nobleman attending a wedding. Illyrians often didn’t bother with such things, but even they couldn’t help dressing up occasionally.

He also looked eerily familiar.

He had the same nose as Kaden.

“And he returns.” The male smirked.

“Father.” Kaden bowed deeply, letting go of Eleana completely.

“It seems you have been busy while away. A member of the Elite? Very impressive.”

It was impressive, incredibly so, and Eleana hated that the way this man said it seemed to make it trivial.

“My cousin only has the best from across the Night Court. You should be honoured to have a son under his leadership.” Eleana scathed.

Kaden’s father’s gaze raked up and down her body. It made her feel not filthy, but like she was being dissected.

“Princess Eleana,” He bowed to her as deeply as Kaden had to him. This man knew it would be a grave mistake to disrespect the daughter of High Lady Feyre and High Lord Rhysand. “It is an honour to have you in our company. Please, come in so I may introduce you to my other sons. They have eagerly awaited your arrival.” He opened the door further and stepped aside to let them in. Kaden stepped back so Eleana could go first, but she grabbed his hand and dragged him along so they would go in together.

She didn’t let go of him when they were in, and let him guide her down the hallway after his father. They ended up in a large longue area, it had to be big for so many children. Waiting in the room were all seven – nearly identical – brothers. They shared a few similar features to Kaden, but the biggest difference was their dark hair and hazel eyes, and they were also shorter than him.

Eleana felt a surge of hatred flood her. They all stood there with cocky expressions on their faces, one even had his hand covering his mouth to hide a laugh. Kaden’s face flamed, and his gaze averted to the ground.

Eleana willed him to look up, to stand his ground, anything.

“It is customary to bow to your betters.” She growled at them.

Their faces turned sombre and they did as she asked.

“Apologies, Heir. We were just excited to see our baby brother return home.” One of them lied. They all bowed and lingered before straightening.

It was hard to tell who was the oldest and who the youngest. They ranged from six centuries old to two – Kaden had told her earlier. If his sister was alive, she would have been the closest in age to him, but still much older.

“These are my sons Alec, Leeam, Rendell, Damion, Jakob, Maxwell, and my eldest Mikael. Welcome to our family home.” Each male nodded as his name was said. “I heard that earlier Kaden gave you a tour of the camp, may I interest you in one of the house? It has been the family home for centuries, and the pride of us. I raised my son’s and daughter here, and although they’ve left me to have families of their own, they all tend to return. Mikael?” He gestured the liar forward. “It will give us a chance to reconnect with Kaden now that he’s home.”

Kaden tensed beside her and moved his body in front of hers. “I can show her.” He spat. It was the first time he’d shown any back bone since they’d arrived at his home, and from the look on his brother’s faces it wasn’t a common occurrence.

“You can’t show her what you haven’t seen,” His brother, Rendell, sneered.

“Stop it.” Their father ordered. Both males backed down at the words, and Kaden detached himself from Eleana only so that he could push her slightly more behind him. “Kaden, why don’t both you and Mikael show our guest the home? Two escorts are better than one. Boys?” He raised an eyebrow and the brothers nodded.

“Bottom to top?” Mikael suggested as he walked over to the pair. Eleana felt Kaden tense again, and his blush spread down from his cheeks to his neck. His brother saw and his smirked returned at the sight. “Please, follow me, Lady Eleana.”

Kaden and Eleana followed Mikael away from the others – their backs met with snickers.

Kaden was looking at the ground again – shame rolling off him in waves.

And just when I thought I couldn’t hate them more, they had to open their mouths.

Kaden jumped at hearing Eleana’s voice echo in his mind, but wasn’t surprised. She was a daemati after all.

We still have a whole day ahead of us. He thought back at her. I just hope you still want to come with me after you see this. He admitted.

Eleana didn’t question him further, she knew that whatever answers she sought likely lied with the place Mikael was taking them. She also knew there was nothing from Kaden’s past that could make her leave. Not now, not in a million years.

The oldest brother walked with his back to them but in a very clear direction. As they winded through the hallways of the house - it was bigger than it looked from the outside - until they stopped at an iron door with a large bolt lock on it.

“In honour of dear Kaden, why don’t we start with his room?” Mikael said with far too much cheer in his voice. He opened the heavy door, which let out a loud whoosh. Directly in front of the stairs was a staircase which led down into the basement. “Ladies first.” He moved to let Eleana past.

It was completely dark in the basement, no windows or light at all, and she couldn’t see Kaden’s room until Mikael lit sconces lining the walls.

“Father was generous and gave Kaden all this space to himself, if we wanted-”

“Leave us.” Eleana growled at Mikael. When he didn’t immediately do as she asked, she slammed just enough wind into him to make him trip up the first few steps. “If anyone comes down here before I allow it, they won’t be leaving with all their body parts intact. I suggest you keep guard.” She ordered him.

Mikael scrambled up the steps and closed the door behind him.

The room was completely concrete. No furniture, the lights obviously newly installed. Bolted to the floor were chains, as well as spattered bloodstains. There was a station where wings could be tortured, instruments meant for torture lining the walls almost casually. Ones to break fingers, ones to remove teeth.

Eleana didn’t need to take in any more details about his room. She didn’t need to search every crevice, or ask him what it had been like down here.

Eleana didn’t need to be introduced to Kaden’s room, because she had been dreaming about it for years. This wasn’t just a room - it was the Room.

For years, since she was a child, she had been plagued by night terrors of this place. And the whole time, the whole time, that was just visions she was getting from her mate. Even as younglings, their fates had been so intertwined that she had lived his life alongside him even if he didn’t know it. Not all mates had visions from the other, it was rare beyond comprehension, and implied a far deeper bond than even mates themselves could sometimes understand.

Tears pooled in her eyes, and for the first time the reality of how awful his childhood had been dawned on her. How could he smile? How could he laugh? It was no wonder he didn’t enjoy being touched or why his tent with no walls and constant fresh air was a place he refused to leave.

“Eleana?”

She held back a sob and turned to look at him. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he was tapping his foot nervously.

“I never wanted you to see this.” He breathed.

She shook her head, clearing her muddled mind as she did so. She blinked away her tears, now was not the time to show weakness, and walked until she was so close to him that their chests were touching.

“Close your eyes.” She told him.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

He closed his eyes, and she leaned further into him.

“I want you to have-” She swallowed back more tears, “I want you to have a least one good memory of this place.” She said no more as she tipped her head up and caught his lips in a kiss.

It was sweet and innocent. The kind of kiss shared between two teenagers who were nervous and falling in love for the first time. There wasn’t heat, but a simmer of warmth that spread throughout both their bodies. Their hands stayed at their sides, and they didn’t take it any further or even kiss again, but it was enough.

______

Eleana shouldn’t have been surprised at the number of people waiting around for the ceremony to start. How many times did Kaden have to tell her his family was huge for her to believe him?

They were at a large estate, and had just flown here with Kaden’s father and brothers. All the Illyrians attending were waiting for the ornate, gold doors to open before they could enter the mansion the wedding was held in. It made for a nice chance to chat with people – that is, if anyone here actually had some decency.

“This is so fucking stupid.” Eleana muttered under her breath. Everyone was giving Kaden a wide berth, completely uninterested in talking to a bastard. However, that didn’t stop his brothers from trying to steal her away to show her off to people as their own guest. Nor did it stop people ogling whenever they saw the Heir conversing with a low born. Eleana didn’t understand how they could possibly be surprised that she would spend her time with a male like Kaden. Ignoring the fact Kaden was just a lovely person in general, her whole family was made up of low-borns and half breeds. The only exception was Mor.

“It’ll be different once we’re seated and at the ceremony. I was expecting this sort of reaction from the others.” Kaden seemed calm about the whole thing - he wasn’t mad in the slightest, unlike Eleana.

“I don’t like the way they’re treating you, even if you expected it.” She grumbled.

Their hands were linked and he was running smoothing circles on her palm.

Eleana was still reeling from her discovery about the Room, and was tempted to just winnow them both away as far as she could then and there. It wasn’t that she no longer wanted to be here, but she didn’t know how she would be able to stand being around these people for the next day. Kaden seemed fine, more than fine if she was being honest.

After their kiss, he had held her hand and led them back to his family, a smile on his face the whole time. He hadn’t bowed to his brothers since, or averted his gaze, nor mumbled or refused to speak. He was more the male she was used to, the male that she loved, the one who stood up for the ones he cared about.

“Maybe it was a good idea you didn’t bring Felix instead. I have far more restraint than him, and I expect he would’ve pummelled everyone here by now.” Eleana sighed. She wasn’t joking though. Felix was very protective of the people he loved, and no action Kaden could take would stop him from telling and showing these people exactly what he thought of their prejudices.

“Stop moping,” He flicked her on the ear.

She scowled at him but then laughed, unable to be serious while he was pouting at her.

“Come on,” he continued, “they’re opening the doors.”

Eleana looked over and saw that the golden doors were being opened by two dark-haired Illyrians in suits. Everyone turned to stare, and then made their way in.

The whole mansion was as fancy as the doors, reminiscent of something Eleana thought she might see in the Spring Court. The walls were all painted a brisk white, but the skirting changed in a gradient from gold to blue and back again. There was art adorning the wall, mostly paintings of the seaside, and the carpet was a rich purple.

Originally, the wedding was meant to be held somewhere else and this gargantuan mansion only for the reception and as somewhere for the guests to stay. But the plans had changed last minute, and now the ceremony was to be held here.

There were ushers directing them to assigned seating in a grand hall. There were two sections, each aside an aisle that ran down the middle, and stools for the Illyrians to sit on. The bride had hired children to show people to their seats once they entered the hall, and little Illyrians were all dotting around trying to get everyone seated.

The groom was waiting at the end of the aisle, next to him was Leeam as well as a Priestess. Eleana and Kaden had to wait in a line to be seated, and were nearly at the back. Some of his brothers had gone in, but Maxwell and Jakob were still lingering near them.

There were still whispers and stares, but Eleana distracted herself from them by trying to visualize patterns between Kaden’s scars.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” He asked.

“If I drew a line between the scar on your face and the one on your collar bone, I bet I could make it look like a pony.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “Shall I get some paint and you can test your theory? Here we were thinking you’d inherited none of your mother’s artistic skills.”

“I can draw a wicked smiley face.” She said just as sarcastically as he did.

Before he could reply, an usher bowed to them and led them away. He checked a quick list to see where they were seated, and then led them towards the front of the hall.

“Lady Eleana, your seat is the third from the aisle.” His voice was high and squeaky, a pubescent on the cusp of being a man.

They were in the same row as the rest of Kaden’s family and Eleana walked along with Kaden right behind her.

“Excuse me!” The voice squeaked. “You can’t just sit anywhere!” They had both turned to look at the boy, but it was clear he was talking to Kaden.

“You just told us our seats were here.” Eleana was perplexed.

“Yes, your seat is here. But he has been assigned to stand at the back where the other guests can’t see him.” The boy explained.

“What?” Eleana was shocked.

Kaden just nodded though, and started to step away. Eleana had to snatch at the back of his blazer to stop him.

“I wasn’t the one to d-decide.” The boy stammered. Her fury was palpable, and he likely thought that it was aimed at him.

Kaden turned to her. “I don’t want to leave you with my brothers. Will you be alright?” He hushed.

She shook her head, mouth agape. “No, I will not be alright! I’m not going to sit here without you.”

She felt a hand on her arm. It belonged to Maxwell. “Kaden isn’t privy to sit here, nor is he allowed. You can join him again after the wedding.” He gave her an easy smile, stupidly thinking she could be swayed by his charms. She gave him a sweet smile in return.

Sweet as poison.

“If you don’t get your hand off me you’ll find yourself without a hand.”

He snatched it back immediately, seeing the validity in her threat. She shuffled out of the aisle and away from Kaden’s ghastly brothers. The usher boy followed her, as did her mate, as she stomped back down the aisle. Once again, eyes turned her way.

But this time she wanted them to. She wanted all these people to watch her as she made her decision.

“Where is Kaden to stand?” She asked the panicked usher.

He pointed toward the back corner, where there was barely any space and the view would likely be obstructed by a bunch of decorative lilies sat on a tall table.

Eleana wasted no time in weaving between the seats so that she could stand there instead. With a wave of her hand the lilies moved from the table to the seat that she’d been allocated. Kaden moved beside her, trying to refrain from laughing at the very flustered usher.

“This isn’t where you’re meant to be!” He said in a panic. “Please, Lady Eleana, come back! The ceremony will only go for an hour - you can come back afterwards I promise.” He was begging her at this point, and she felt bad for him. He was only a child, but her purpose was more important.

He was so jittery that he jumped when Kaden’s father placed his hand on the child’s shoulder. “Run now, child. I’ll deal with this.” He said sternly.

Kaden was behind her again - his hands on her waist. He could easily see over her - he was so bloody tall - and eyed his father. “You have no right to be mad. I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

“You may be, but you had no right to drag the heir along with you. Princess, please return with me to your seat. There is no need to sully yourself here.”

Eleana raised her chin. “I’m exactly where I want to be, but I advise on you returning. From the looks of things, the wedding will start soon, and we don’t want the attention taken away from the bride’s big entrance.”

His mouth was a thin line, and she could see red fanning his cheeks like it often did Kaden. “As you insist.”

He left with his wings bristling with a definite stomp to his steps.

Kaden wrapped his arms more firmly around her, and she leant back into his chest with her hands covering his. His propped his chin on her shoulder and blew into her ear. She wiggled and laughed as it tickled her, but he just tightened his grip. “You’re quite fierce when you want to be. Remind me never to piss you off.”

She lifted her head to look at him. “You’re awfully affectionate today.” She noted.

“What can I say? I’m at a beautiful place, with a beautiful girl who makes me feel strong, and I want to show her that. I can stop if you object.” He pretended to pull his arms away with a loud and fake sigh.

She turned and nestled into him so she could lean her face on his chest. Their clothes blended in perfectly together. They were a matching set, one incomplete without the other. “Would you be offended if I asked how long it will last? I need to know when the moment hits and you decide you don’t want to be touched anymore.” She said it quietly as to deter the leering and haughty guests around them from hearing. They were thoughts she had never dared voice to him before, but he, too, made her feel strong and even a little reckless.

“If I’m remembering correctly, you were the one who tried to seduce me in my childhood home. Of all places! Nearly as scandalous as Felix. I am just trying to be proper.” He teased.

“I’m being serious.”

He brushed his hands up and down her arms and rested his chin on her head. “As am I. My logic is my family is already under the impression that I’m a scoundrel. Nothing I can do at this point will make them see me as less. Actually, the only person this hurts is you-”

“No-”

“Hush, Eleana, let me finish. The only person this will hurt is you. But right now we’re away from home, no one here really knows us, and we have the rare opportunity to be who we want. I know that me acting like this,” he let his hands slip to the small, unclothed skin of her back, “makes you happy. And Cauldron knows that’s all I want for you.”

“I don’t want you to do things like this,” she tilted her head and kissed his jaw, “just because you think I like it. I want you to want this. But…” She leant back. “Even if it’s just for today… I can do that. We can do that.”

“Why don’t we just pretend that you aren’t Eleana the Heir, and I’m not Kaden the Bastard?”

“Should we give ourselves alias’? You can be Codename Blonde Abs.”

He snorted. “Blonde Abs? Wherever did you get that idea?”

She ran her hands down his chest to prove her point. “Maybe it is a bit conspicuous. Maybe Steamy Woodland Nights? Childhood Home Debauchery? Maybe just Couch will do the trick.” Eleana would never get sick of the blush that graced his cheek with any and every innuendo. She said as much to him.

“It is a perfectly normal bodily function.” He defended. “I could make you blush if I wanted. Lucky for you I’m a gentleman.”

Bells started chiming, signalling the entrance of the bride. The hall went quiet, and Eleana shot Kaden the quick thought of - Saved just in time. There are some things even you can’t do.

Kaden’s cousin looked splendid in her red wedding dress. She had swirls of ceremonial paint covering her body, and her veil only revealed her dark eyes. There was no one in the procession but her, but that was all that was needed to capture the full attention of her audience. It became clear that this wedding was a show of power and wealth, and maybe Kaden and Eleana weren’t the only ones here with something to prove.

Even her wings had been painted, and Eleana idly wondered who she had let do it.

She reached her husband-to-be, and he lifted her veil to reveal a stunningly gorgeous Illyrian. Her lips were full and coloured red, and even from the back of the room Eleana could see the thick lashes framing her face.

She’s gorgeous. She told Kaden.

She must be if you’re looking at her like that. Should I be jealous? There was a twinkle of laughter to his thought.

I don’t have to be a painter to appreciate a fine piece of art.

The ceremony was short and sweet, just under an hour long. The two Illyrians exchanged vows and had their wrists tied together in delicate ribbon to symbolize the fragility of life and love and the care that you should give it.

Eleana had her back pressed against Kaden’s chest the whole time, and she slipped her hands up his jacket sleeves to keep her hands warm.

When the ceremony had finished, the guests who were seated threw rice at the bride and groom as they flew from the room with loud cheers and music on their heels. Even Eleana and Kaden were jumping and clapping and spinning to the beat as the guests danced from the hall.

And if Eleana nearly fell into a glass door, nobody mentioned it.

The two betrothed were expected to be consummating their marriage for at least a few hours, so the guests were all given the keys to their respective rooms and were encouraged to rest or socialize before the real party began.

Eleana was right in her assumption that by inviting her, Kaden was given an actual room in the mansion rather than just a hammock in the barn. Well, he wasn’t really. Mikael had tried to get him to go there anyway, claiming that Eleana’s room only had one bed and it wouldn’t be possible to move another one in there. He had been utterly scandalized when Eleana had pinched her room key from his fingers and proclaimed that one bed would be all they needed.

They had brought minimal things, only some clothes to sleep in if they didn’t end up dancing until dawn. The party would continue tomorrow as well into the late afternoon, but that was the deadline they had for the Elite returning to the camp, so they would be home earlier than that.

“My Dark Rose,”

Kaden’s words drew Eleana from where she was watching a butterfly land on the windowsill. He was sitting on the ground, and had arranged some blankets into a bed – much to her protest.

“Your Dark Rose?” She queried.

“If we had codenames, Dark Rose would be yours. Beautiful, but if you hold it the wrong way or get too close, you’ll get pricked by its thorns.”

_____

Eleana was giddy with excitement when it came time to head down to the field behind the house. She had watched servants prepare the party for the past few hours. A dance floor was laid, fires were lit, and alcohol and food were ready for the taking.

She ran eagerly to where everyone awaited, Kaden dutifully, but very happily, following her. As horrid as his immediate family was, she was still excited to meet some new people. Kaden had told her that he would introduce her to the good ones – his attractive cousin, Talysa, included.

The bride and groom had taken longer than expected to become well acquainted with the married life, so the party started only an hour before dusk. It set a nice glow over the guests and flames, and created a warm atmosphere for the musicians.

There were people already swaying to the music, and Eleana tried to rush forward to join them.

“Lady Eleana!”

She groaned as she was called over by one of Kaden’s insufferable family members.

He was an older man with a much younger female latched onto his arm. Eleana didn’t recognize him in the slightest, and glanced at Kaden before proceeding. Kaden frowned but nodded his head and offered his elbow to her. She linked it with hers and together they walked over to the male.

“Ah, Lady Eleana, how marvellous to see you!” He had an awfully overgrown moustache and a line of sweat on his forehead. He bowed when near her, dragging the girl down with him, and a drop of perspiration hit the bottom of her dress.

“Nice to meet your acquaintance.” Eleana returned.

“Eleana, this is my cousin Gerard and his wife Merriment.” Kaden introduced.

Eleana offered them a polite smile.

“It is an absolute honour to see you in attendance, Lady Eleana. May I offer my hand in the first dance of this evening? I have been told I am excellent on my feet.” He gave a beady, and honestly creepy, smile.

Eleana had to restrain from cringing away. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m spoken for the first dance.”

“Who has the honour?” He looked affronted, but in the subtle way that showed he hadn’t meant for his emotions to let slip so easily.

“Kaden, of course.” Eleana thought it was rather obvious, but Gerard still looked shocked.

“I wasn’t aware.” He cleared his throat and awkwardly looked away. “I have, uh, other business to attend to. Feel free to come see me during the night, Lady Eleana, and I will be happy to give you a proper dance.”

Eleana rolled her eyes so hard as he left that it made her dizzy.

She didn’t need to share her thoughts with Kaden as the Illyrians surged around the makeshift dancefloor. This must mean that the bride and groom were ready to make their big entrance and their first dance. They would lead in the dance, and then everyone else would join.

Before they had come down to join the festivities, Kaden had given Eleana another quick rundown of the dances he had been teaching her over the last two weeks. She was confident that by now she knew them by heart, but was still nervous to do it in front of everyone.

There was another grand entrance by the bride, this time her groom leading her along, and together they went to the middle of the floor. The musicians changed their tune to a more elegant one, and along with the beat, Kaden’s cousin and her new husband swirled around the dance floor. After a round, more couples joined in.

“You ready?” Kaden beamed at her.

“As I’ll ever be.” She swallowed.

Kaden linked their hands and then rushed them forward to join in with the throng of dancers. Eleana’s nerves were nearly overwhelming, but with one of Kaden’s hands in hers and the other firmly on her waist, she didn’t even need to close her eyes to calm herself. She let her feet guide her as she remembered the training Kaden gave her specifically so that she’d be able to remember the steps.

They danced well into the night – it seemed once Eleana started she refused to stop. After all, she had a lot of catching up to do when it came to the dance department. Kaden didn’t seem to mind, although he did stop occasionally so that he could get them drinks. In these moments, he would whisk her away to one of the cousin’s that he liked so she could still dance. As it turns out, there were nice people in his family. Truly shocking. Eleana had trouble believing it after all she had seen, but there were some decent ones. She never stayed with them for long though, and would always float back to his side.

She had just finished dancing with a cousin named Aleksander and was wandering back to find Kaden. Alekx was nice enough, very chatty, but the fifteen-year-old didn’t quite hold her attention the way his cousin did. Kaden had seated himself towards the food and had a shot of fire-whiskey in his hand. Eleana could smell it form a mile away, and couldn’t help but smile at the memory of what he had been like the last time he’d been drunk on it.

“You all danced out?” He lifted a glass of champagne at the sight of her approaching and offered it with an outstretched arm.

“Never,” She said cheerily while accepting the drink. As much as she hated to admit it, she was having a lot of fun. Kaden, though, had a little crease between his eyebrows that he only got when he was worried. She lifted her hand and smoothed it out with her thumb. “Are you okay? I thought you would steal me away from Alekx after one dance.”

Kaden grabbed her hand and used it to pull her closer to him. “Somethings going on.” He whispered. “I don’t know what, but my instincts are telling me to grab you and flee.”

Her stomach sank at the words, and she let him fully embrace her. She held onto his shoulders, trying to loosen how incredibly tense they were. “Do you know what?”

“Everybody is acting strange. Gerard talking to you shouldn’t have happened while I was there. My brothers haven’t tried anything with you yet, and I know they wouldn’t be able to resist trying to get someone of your rank into bed. Especially when they know that doing it would hurt me. Like fuck, it wouldn’t even be the first time. Talysa hasn’t spoken to me yet, and under any other circumstance I know she would have by now. Or maybe I’m just being paranoid-”

“I trust your instincts, Kaden. If you think somethings going on than I do too. Is there any way for me to help?” His breathing was heavy and his eyes were twitching. Eleana didn’t know if something terrible was going to happen or not, but she did know that Kaden had been raised to expect it.

“I- No. If something happens then something happens. We came here to dance and have a good time. Why don’t I introduce you to Talysa?” He got up from where he was sitting but didn’t let her go. Eleana was still half-heartedly expecting him to stop at any minute, but she would take it while she could.

“Yes please.” Eleana winked at him suggestively, trying to get him to crack a smile.

Thankfully, it worked, and Kaden snickered at her enthusiasm to meet his bride cousin. “I should do something else first though,” He started walking, pulling her along with him.

“And what might that be?”

“I need to thank you. For coming with me, not just to the wedding but for this morning as well. Even for just being my friend, I could never express how appreciative I truly am-”

“You don’t need to. I know you don’t believe me when I say it, but I appreciate you just as much. I’ll spend my whole life reiterating it if I have to.” She leaned into him and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He looked shyly at the ground, but Eleana didn’t miss the beautiful blush on his cheeks or his smile.

Together, they wove through the Illyrians milling around and made their way to where they could see a line of people waiting to congratulate Talysa and her husband. They joined in, Eleana sipping her champagne and Kaden watching the dancing and occasionally speaking to people.

Dancing with him today had been truly exhilarating. Every swirl and dip had Eleana in ecstasy. She had noted that he had indeed been holding back his skill. There was once dance that in the middle they had to change partners, and it was clear that once he was with someone of his own skill he was phenomenal. It was almost unfair. With surprise, she realised he had been born to dance the streets of Velaris as a fae – just like her. She didn’t know why she didn’t think of it more often – how he was a fae as well. Except he’d never had the opportunity to live like one. Could you imagine how he might thrive living in Velaris? She could have had this feeling her whole life and he… Well, he never would’ve been subjected to the emotional and physical abuse that he did at the hands of his brothers and father.

She started to feel nauseous as she remembered the sight of the Room and all her dreams. Now when Eleana saw his scars, she might be able to piece together how he got them. The one on his bicep could’ve been a saw, the ones on his chest nicks from knives. She had never seen his ankles, but she knew they would bear marks of shackles.

They were second in line to see Talysa, and Eleana saw her eyes widen in joy at the sight of Kaden. She barely glanced at Eleana, and hurried along the Illyrian she was talking to.

“Kadey!” She squealed. She rushed forward and pulled him into her arms. “How are you?! Oh, I’m so happy to see you! Look how tall you are! I swear you grow an inch a month! Ah!”

Kaden laughed and returned her hug. “It’s lovely to see you, Talysa. And it’s only been half a year since you last saw me! I don’t think it’s possible for me to have grown.”

“Oh poosh.” She straightened her arms but kept her hands on his shoulders so she could inspect him. She scrutinized him from head to toe and nodded happily. “Look at you all dressed up! This is one of the finest suits I’ve ever seen. We tried to get this material for my dress but it was too hard to find. And the detailing! And the colour in your cheeks? You may have had the muscle before Kadey, but I must say you are positively radiating! Now tell me about the Elite!” Her voice was high pitched, completely juxtaposed to her vixen appearance.

“It’s going really well. Felix is amazing and I made the first row-”

“What what what?” Talysa shook Kaden’s torso. “I don’t know what to ask you about first! The fact that you are on a first name basis with the general’s son or that you made the first row!”

Eleana’s ears ached from so many exclamatives in such a high-pitched voice.

“Maybe that’s a conversation for another time. May I introduce you to my close friend Eleana?” Kaden said smoothly.

Talysa finally turned her attention to Eleana. “Oh! Your outfits match! How divine!” She let go of Kaden and embraced Eleana in a similar way. “I adore this dress! Maybe you should change so you don’t show me up!” She lightly pated Eleana’s cheek to show her she was joking. “It’s lovely having you here. I’m glad we could find you a room!” She turned back to Kaden, her full focus once again on him.

Eleana found herself quite liking Talysa. She might babble a lot, and her focus never held long onto one thing, but she did seem genuinely excited to see Kaden, and that was a reaction Eleana had yet to see previously. Her enthusiasm was also contagious. Eleana felt herself start to skip on the spot like Talysa was.

“The barn is nice as well, Kaden. I convinced them to let you stay in the one with the most prized horses,”

“Oh, uh, I’m going to stay in Eleana’s room tonight.”

Her happy demeanour changed instantly. “But there is only one bed.” Oh well, Eleana liked her but everything must come to an end.

“That’s all we need.”

“Kaden, that’s very improper.” Her hands fell to her side and she stepped back. “I insist that you give Lady Eleana her space. The barn in well enough. I had a hammock built, and there’s an owl in there I named Barney-”

“I want Kaden with me,” Eleana interjected.

“Kaden cannot stay with the other guests!” She hissed right back. “When you decide to return to bed you’ll do it where you’ve been allocated. I fought hard to get you an invitation, Kaden, so please respect my wishes. You won’t reside in the mansion. Lady Eleana may, but you cannot.” She was absolutely bristling, and if it wasn’t for the love Eleana knew Kaden had for this female she would’ve beat her head in.

As for Kaden, he slumped slightly. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Talysa-”

“Just go to the barn, okay? Please.” She took a deep breath and stepped back from the two. “You better reserve me a dance.” She said to Kaden. She spun on her heels to talk to other guests behind them and started another conversation.

Eleana was furious, and stomped away from the bride. She could feel the eyes of her husband following her every movement – it was curious that at no point he interrupted their conversation.

“Just when I thought there was a good one,” Eleana seethed. For the second time that day, and again because of his family, tears pooled in her eyes.

Kaden caught her wrist and spun her around. He caught her just in time to lean forward and kiss away a tear that escaped.

“I hate this,” she cried. “The way they treat you is disgusting.” She held him to him like he was her lifeline.

“It’s okay-”

“It’s not okay! You deserve better than this. Better than the way they treat you and the way that you were raised. It makes my skin crawl.”

“Eleana.” He smiled.

“Why are you smiling?” She snapped.

“Because no matter how they treat me, at the end of the day I have dinner with Felix, and I get to talk to you. I get to lead a unit, and challenge myself. When I go to bed at night I no longer fret about what might happen the next day, but instead prepare conversation topics so that when I approach you I might entice you to stay for as long as possible.” He laughed. “Felix calls me a bastard every single day, in the most affectionate way possible. And every time he uses that word, it has less and less power over me. Sometimes I go back to my tent, and your Aunt Morrigan has left me a casserole for lunch. The other week Quathryn cried because I didn’t have tattoos like Felix, and she wanted to colour them in. Where I grew up is not my home. I can’t choose my family, but I can choose my home, and my home is with you. That’s if you’ll have me.”

“Of course I’ll have you,” She blubbered.

“Then I have no need to worry about what they say or think. There was a time when I cared – more than anything – and there are still things that I can’t give you because some things cannot be changed, but I don’t care right now.” He walked away, his hand over her shoulder while leading them back the way they came. “How about we dance and drink until we forget our names?”

_____

Sweat was coating Eleana’s body. She felt fuzzy from the drinks, but luckily, she had Kaden to keep her upright as they danced. She wouldn’t say she was drunk, not by any means, but she would be if she kept going the way she was.

It was past midnight, and after the conversation with Talysa everything had been rather pleasant. She didn’t leave Kaden’s side, and he tucked her in close and often pressed random kisses on her.

“So, Codename Blonde Abs, where to now?” Eleana yawned, but she wasn’t ready to go to bed quite yet.

“I should find Talysa and give her that dance she wanted. You can either watch me in my full dancing glory, or feast yourself on the cake inside. It’s a hard choice, I know.”

“Would you hate me if I sat down for a few minutes?” She asked instead. She could still go all night, but a few moments sitting down would ease some of the pressure on her feet.

“There’s quiches inside. Why don’t you see which is the best flavour and we’ll have a midnight snack?”

“Hmm, I like the way you think.” She elbowed him and then sashayed off while he went to find Talysa.

The hall where the ceremony had been held had been converted into a dining hall, where tomorrow everyone would have breakfast together. As of now, there was even more food spread around for people to enjoy. Most of it had been taken away from outside, mainly due to some very over enthusiastic dancers that had tumbled into one and knocked everything to the ground. Eleana found herself a plate and wondered along, picking out all the foods she wanted. She sat down on her own at the edge of the room on a stool left over and set about the task of choosing the best quiches so she could present them to Kaden.

Or, well, she tried to. Now that Kaden wasn’t with her people decided to come talk to her. She barely got to nibble her quiches between all the people wanting to introduce themselves. She had many men come to talk military strategy with her (and try to get a subtle invitation for an introduction to the High Lady and Lord), and also a lot of woman wanting to discuss the reforms High Lady Feyre had been introducing over the past hundred years. She had many compliments on her dress, but Eleana was most flattered when people said how well she paired with Kaden.

She started to feel more comfortable around these people, where she previously hadn’t without Kaden’s support.

Seeing him act so… bravely? Nonchalant? Strong? It made her feel those things too. Sometimes it shocked how much it was possible to love him, and these were the types of moments that shook her the most. It was like it crept up on her, almost like she forgets, and then remembering him makes her fall in love all over again.

All she wants, more than anything in the world, is for him to feel the same way as she does. To not care about all that family shit, and just be with her. Her was her soul-bonded partner, and Eleana prays for the day when he will realise. That’s why when she had the opportunity to tell him the truth, the moment she almost took, she let it slip it away. Was it selfish for her to want him to come to that conclusion on his own? Probably. Did she deserve selfishness? When it came to him, she wasn’t sure.

There was also the factor that she still didn’t want to take this choice away from him. She knew what he was like, how selfless he was, and if she told him she was his mate he would be with her whether he wanted to or not. She couldn’t inflict that on him.

“Lady Eleana,” a very panicked Talysa pushed past the Illyrian who wanted to discuss international trade and stopped directly in front of her. “I need your help. I think something is wrong!”

Before Eleana could reply, she felt a blood curdling sickness sweep through her that was so bad she keeled forward in pain. She could tell though, as much as it hurt, that this was not her pain.

“Where’s Kaden?” She growled.

Talysa’s eyes widened in surprise, and she turned and waved for Eleana to follow her. Eleana did so immediately, shutting out the pain that Kaden was involuntarily throwing her way.

They sped back towards the yard, and it didn’t take them long to see that something was seriously wrong.

The music had stopped, and there was a hard silence in the air. Everyone had crowded around the dancefloor but left a circle vacant. There was eight people in it, everyone else around was clearly just spectators of their drama.

Seven of those people were Kaden’s brothers, and her mate himself was kneeling between them with his hand clutched to his stomach. Her looked up at she started shoving past his family to get to him, but she stopped when he shook his head and looked at her with pure determination in his eyes.

So instead she looked on with utter mortification as his brothers drew swords and pointed them towards him.

“What the fuck is this?” She asked Talysa, whose face had taken a green sheer.

“I-I had a feeling something like t-this would happen.” She stuttered. “But I thought it would be after the party. That’s why I wanted him in the barn!”

Eleana went to the front of the ring of people surrounding them and watched as the brothers circled around Kaden. Kaden was no longer kneeling, and stood at his full height in a fighting stance.

Why were they doing this?

From what she could tell from the whispers around her, Kaden had been struck down by one of his brothers, which had prompted everyone else to give them some space.

But why? They had done things like this before, but to do it so publically? What happened while she’d been away from him? What couldn’t they do while she’d been with him?

_____

Kaden had woven through the crowd, searching for his cousin so that he could give her the dance that she’d wanted. She’d always loved dancing with him – she was one of the reasons he was so good at it – and he felt like he needed to make it up to her. He was embarrassed about his actions earlier, he never should have agreed to stay with Eleana. But he’d had his reasons, beyond just wanting to make sure his brothers didn’t go anywhere near her, and for that, he was also ashamed.

So even though he could feel his eldest brother stalking him, he made no drama of it and simply continued on. He became more suspicious when Leeam joined in, and considered abandoning his thoughts of Talysa to find Eleana when his cousin’s groom started whispering to the nearby guests. It made Kaden furious. These males may be ones of power, but they were such lowly people.

He didn’t stop walking until Rendell pulled at his sleeve to make him halt, Damion smirking at his side.

“Little brother, haven’t you had quite the time while you’ve been away?” Rendell purred as Damion started circling them.

“If you’ve grown so bored with your life that you feel the need to start a running commentary on mine, I believe you have better things to worry about.” Kaden snapped back.

“Oh.” He’d covered his mouth in mock-shock. “No need to be nasty. You’ve grown so much more bite. I feel sorry for that poor girl you’ve swindled. Tell me, Kaden, what lies have you poisoned her with to make Lady Eleana tolerant of your presence?”

There was a low growl in his chest, but he refused to sink to their level. No matter how much bite they claimed him to have, he would not throw the first punch.

“Unlike you, I don’t have to force myself on people.” Kaden had replied simply.

“Force myself? Ha! Maybe while you’re in your barn I’ll find my way up to your Lady’s room and show her what a real Illyrian can do.” Rendell threatened.

“If you think you’re capable of making Lady Eleana do anything that she doesn’t want to do, you are sadly mistaken.” It went against his instincts, but Kaden turned his back on his brother, honestly believing that he wouldn’t be so cowardly as to attack an unarmed male at a wedding while his back was turned.

Next thing Kaden knew, Damion used to hilt of his sword to strike him down. He absorbed the pain, it was nothing new, but he didn’t feel pure anger until all his other brothers surrounded him and Talysa’s husband shooed people away so they could make it into a spectacle.

It was clear they had been planning this for a while.

Maybe he would’ve been submissive like he had so many times in the past – his brothers would likely expect that – but when he saw Eleana frantically trying to get to his side, he knew he had to stand up for himself. His time of being their plaything was over. He was stronger than them, more skilled than them, and all those months ago he may not have been able to beat them all at once, but he was a trained member of the Elite now. They had no idea what they were up against.

So he’d shaken his head at her, and he stood up.

His brothers ohhhed and whistled in amusement.

“You may be taller than us Kaden, but you’re forgetting one key point. You’re a half-breed abomination, who never should’ve existed. Tonight, all shall be righted.”

All his brother’s had weapons, and his father wasn’t in sight.

A small part of him, the child that had lived in the dark, prayed that his father would see and put a stop to this. Some part of him must love Kaden, right? Why else would he take him when the fae didn’t want him?

He quashed down that part of him, and thought of nothing else but Alec and Maxwell as they lunged at him in perfect synchronisation.

He stepped easily out of their way, swinging around so that he was behind Alec, elbowing him in the head and disorientating him. Jakob took that as a chance to wield his sword, but Kaden angled himself in a way that meant it clanged at a bad angle against Maxwell’s – the idiot had the same idea - making the two brothers reverberate against each other.

Kaden took the chance to kick Alec hard, square in the chest, and then slam his fist down on his forearm, making him forfeit his sword to Kaden. Although he felt content to fight them without a weapon, he felt much more comfortable with the Illyrian steel in his hand.

He smashed the hilt across Alec’s temple, hard enough for him not to be a problem in the near future, but he would live.

Mikael abandoned his sword for two daggers, fury splayed across his face at the sight of the unconscious Alec. Mikael charged, Jakob and Maxwell backing him up. Mikael had close range weapons, whereas the others would have to stay far if they were to hurt him, and Kaden could use their ill-planning against them.

Jakob came from his left, while Mikael came from the front. Rather than stepping back, he came in closer and blocked Mikael’s hooks with his forearms – still managing his grip on Alec’s sword - and then butted his head into Mikael’s nose. It gave way with a satisfying crunch – blood spurting everywhere. With the distraction of Mikael’s pain, he disarmed both of Mikael’s dagger and flung them into the crowd. They were Illyrian, if they couldn’t dodge it that was their problem. He extended his right arm back, the one with the sword, and shot it straight through the flesh of his shoulder like a spear, just beneath the end of his clavicle. Again, it wasn’t a mortal injury, but for now Mikael was out of this race, especially since he’d left the blade in him. Kaden didn’t have to worry about his brother while he was pegged to the ground.

Kaden moved onto Jakob, who had to halt his advance in fear of striking Mikael accidently. He faced him straight on, but could tell from the prickles in his spine and the gleam in Jakob’s eye that one of his brothers was about to pounce from behind him. He predicted where they would try to hit him, and sidestepped at the last minute as Maxwell tried to spear him like he had Mikael. He swung so he was behind Maxwell, and used their momentum so that Maxwell hit Jakob instead, who was too cocky and slow to move. Maxwell seized in guilt at hurting him, giving Kaden the opportunity to knock him out with a king-hit to the temple.

With Alec, Mikael, Jakob and Maxwell now out for the count, Leeam, Rendell and Damion snarled at Kaden.

Kaden could hear the rustling of the crowd around him, and flicked his gaze over to Eleana. Her eyes were filled with pride, and that look alone gave him more strength than a century of training could.

They tried to snake around him, but Kaden positioned himself in a way that made it impossible for them to do so without either treading on the bodies of their brothers or impacting on the crowd they’d gathered to spectate.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re doing this? Why here? Why now? Why make such a show of it?” Kaden asked.

“Because how dare you!” Leeam yelled. Kaden suspected Leeam had a great deal of influence in the set up of this situation. He was Talysa’s husband’s best friend, after all. The two had fought side by side in both the Great Wars together. Firstly, in the war against Amarantha six hundred years ago, and then the way against the King of Hybern last century. “You decided to just waltz out of here like you had the right to do so, and within the first few days of whoring yourself out to another camp you join the Elite? We have been trying since its creation to make it! Why you? You don’t deserve the extra wages, the prestige, the better missions and training. We’ve called upon Felix countless times to dine with us, and we are refused every time. What did you do? What dark fae magic did you use to wedge yourself in with him?!” Leeam’s face had gone red and his other brothers were nodding in agreement.

“Do you know what it means to have an in with someone with Archeron blood? The power that comes with it?” Damion growled. “But of course you do. There is no other reason for you to use your disgusting magic otherwise.”

Kaden laughed lightly – his brothers didn’t know the half of what he could do. They had no idea he was a veilsinger, he could count on one hand the amount of people that did, and had no idea what he had learned from Azriel, even if the male was now being elusive.

“What are you snickering about?” Rendell said with fear in his voice. Hopefully this meant that he was finally realising what Kaden was – a worthy adversary.

Kaden thought it comical and sad that all his family would ever see when they saw Felix or Eleana was their blood. The fact that they, too, were fae-Illyrian, didn’t matter when they shared the blood of the famed Archeron sisters.

“I’m sad for you, and I’m sad that it came to this.” Kaden answered.

Leeam threw a knife at Kaden, which he easily deflected with his magic. It was often overshadowed, but Kaden was Illyrian. Just because he had an abundance of fae-magic at his disposal didn’t mean he also didn’t have the killing power. He wasn’t trained well enough to use siphons to control it properly, but Felix had shown him enough to make due.

The deflection of his knife made his remaining brothers even more furious, and Kaden welcomed it.

As they had said so many times, he was part of the Elite, and he didn’t have to stand for this.

In a few quick manoeuvres and in only a minute or so, his other three brothers joined the ones on the floor, and he was left standing.

For the first time since they had attacked him, he let himself really look at the audience around him. The overwhelming majority – they all could hear the conversation with his brothers – looked on in pure disbelief. He scanned over the crowd, over half were his direct relatives and all seemed much more concerned about his brother’s conditions than they were about them trying to execute him. He spotted Talysa, who was always so sweet to him, and she was sobbing. Next to her was Eleana – his Dark Rose.

She strode out with her head held high and stopped directly in front of him.

“Eleana…” He whispered.

A lot of the Illyrians around him gasped from his audacity to speak to her without her proper title.

She reached up and smoothed back the hair that had stuck to his face from sweat, and waved her other arm lightly to make the blood coating his suit disappear. She snapped her fingers, and all seven of his brothers regained consciousness. Kaden wasn’t expecting her to do so, but was sure she had a plan. She put a hand on his chest, and he was sure she could feel his heartbeat. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she spread her fingers. “Felix would be impressed.” She finally replied to him. “But I can’t stand by and watch this anymore.” She pushed him with her magic and he skidded back so he was joining the crowd. She then waved her arm over her head, and when Kaden tried to run back to her, he found himself slamming into a wall of solid wind.

With her other hand, she clenched her fist and all his brothers were lifted a foot off the ground simultaneously and lined up.

Then they started screaming.

The noises they were making were horrible, and they were being caused by Eleana. All she had to do was focus on them. Kaden saw with disgust that Mikael and Rendell had both wet themselves, and all’s veins were popping out unnaturally.

Eleana released them from their pain, but she didn’t let them to the ground.

“With the power bestowed upon me by High Lord Rhysand, Death Incarnate, and High Lady Feyre, Light Exultant, and in the name of my kin Felix, son of the General and Beheader, I hereby punish you for the crime of attempted murder on a member of the Elite.”

Kaden banged on the wind, but he didn’t think she could hear him. Her voice had clearly been amplified so that everyone else could hear her despite the barrier between them.

“You are not injured, all I did was show you the pain that you have inflicted in the past. That was not your punishment.”

She slowly stalked over to Damion, who was furthest to the left. He was too weak to move, but he did meet her eyes.

“He never did anything wrong,” her voice was strained, “and yet you punished him his whole life. Why must you be like this? All of you! You disgust me and you are lucky I don’t request to have your rank stripped.” She delicately held up Damion’s hand. “You let your prejudices blind you, and for that, you will all bear the same punishment.”

Damion let out a wail as Eleana pulverized the bones in his ring and middle fingers. Kaden could see what she was doing. Without those fingers, it would be impossible for them to wield weapons properly – not for a very long time.

She went along the line and did the same to everyone. Next was Rendell, who passed out from the pain, and then Alec, who cried. Maxwell tried to be strong, but even he cracked, and Jakob was very similar. Leeam cursed her name and thrashed, and lastly Mikael prayed to the Mother that she might end Eleana’s heathen life.

When she was done, Eleana let them all drop to the floor, and let go of her shield. Kaden wasn’t the only one who rushed forward, but he was the only one who went to her.

“Why?” He put his arm around her waist and rested his forehead on hers.

“Because now they’ll never touch again.” She rested her hand on his cheek. “They never would’ve stopped, Kaden. I could see it in their minds. Even if tonight they failed, and they didn’t think they would, they would’ve tried again.” She choked. “I’m sorry, but they’ve just hurt you so much-”

He cut her off with a quick kiss to her mouth. It parted in shock, and he took the opportunity to deepen it just that little bit. He didn’t know how else to show her how grateful he was, to make her really see that he meant what he said.

“Thank you,” He said once they parted. “I want to talk more but we need to go.”

He gave her his widest smile and grabbed her by the hand, splitting through the crowd and running as fast as he could. He didn’t know where they were going, but with her laughing at his side it didn’t matter.

_____

Eleana didn’t know how long they had run for – crashing through trees and fields alike - but they didn’t slow down until the barn Kaden was meant to stay in came into view.

“How could Talysa have wanted you to stay here if she cared about you so much? It’s so far away from everything else.” Eleana pointed out.

“I don’t think you would understand why people do the awful things they do, even if I explained it to you.” Kaden replied honestly.

The two slowed to a walk, hands still entwined between them.

The sky was cloudless, giving Eleana a lovely view of all the stars above her and the bright moon. She breathed in the air, so different out here in the middle of nowhere than the camp or Velaris. It was uninterrupted by anything else. No rowdy dancers, no fire to filll the air with smoke. It was peaceful.

“I would try.” She told him.

“And I would appreciate it. But you come from world that taught you it was okay to be different, and that you should be loved for whoever you were. When that’s so ingrained in you, it’s hard to comprehend how others can think differently.” He knew that if someone came looking for them the barn would be the first place they would, but why would they? What Eleana had done was perfectly legal, and how could they pursue justice even if it wasn’t? What could they do against one of the most powerful fae, not just for her age, but in Prythian?

They approached the sliding door and felt a sweep of magic go through them as they did.

“What…?”

“They were wards,” Eleana confirmed. “Meant to keep anyone out who didn’t have fae blood.” It seemed strange, until Eleana thought about it. “This must be why Talysa was so adamant about you being here. When she came to get me, she said she thought something like this might happen.”

Kaden rested his hand on the wood. “That was very kind of her. She didn’t have to do that.” He slid the door open and they were met with the snickers of horses in the barn. Horses were purely leisurely for Illyrians, and many people didn’t bother. In Prythian, most horses were bred to sell to the Mortal Lands as part of a trade scheme Elain created after the war.

“Kaden, are we still pretending that we aren’t who we are?” She asked him, barely loud enough to hear. “Because I… I struggle. A lot.”

His gaze turned concerned. “With who you are?”

“I,” She stopped and took a deep breath. The way he had been acting today, this new side to him – she couldn’t keep pretending that being friends was enough for her. That it didn’t kill her every time he went on a spiel about how it would never work and he couldn’t give her everything because of who he was. Today he had been the one who decided how much affection they would have with each other, and she lived for the moments where he would hold her hand or kiss her cheek. She also knew, though, that those moments wouldn’t last. “Despite all the things that happened today, I have never been happier than when you danced with me, and when you kissed me, and when you touched me by surprise and it made my spine shiver. It’s hard though, because these moments also hurt me.”

“Eleana,” He looked so taken aback and ashamed that she reached out and held onto his shirt so he couldn’t try to flee.

“They hurt me because I know that everything you feel for me is circumstantial, and that in a matter of minutes you could rip yourself away and I’ll still just be here – waiting for you to realise that-” She choked on her words. No. No. She couldn’t. She had to wait. “To realise that we’re perfect, Kaden. That I’m – that I’m in love with you.”

She was right in her prediction that he would try to get away from her, and this time she let him. He took a few steps back, like a force had compelled him to get away from her touch as quickly as he could, and she could hear his breathing getting heavy.

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” He swallowed, and she knew he was lying.

That lie hurt more than anything else that day, and she looked at the floor so he couldn’t see the tears in her eyes from every insecurity of hers hitting her like a killing blow. Every thought she had about not being good enough, about how terrible she must be if even her mate didn’t want her. She may not have told him he was her mate, but she had been clear in the way she felt. She shouldn’t have told him she loved him, but it just came out, and pain ripped through her when he didn’t say it back.

She started shaking, and she bit her lips to try and keep in her emotions. “Do you feel anything for me?” She asked slowly, the words clawing their way out of her.

He came to stand in front of her. He didn’t touch her, just lowered his head the way she was. “You know I do, and you know it doesn’t change anything.”

She shook her head – she didn’t want to argue.

“The wards will keep out anyone who doesn’t have fae blood. You should be perfectly safe here for as long as you need.” She tilted her head and risked a kiss to his temple. “Goodbye, Kaden.” She couldn’t stay with him tonight. Couldn’t pretend that pining after him like this was healthy.

She turned and walked away, and made it all the way to the doors before he spun her around and kissed her with so much wildness that it swept her off her feet. She raised her hands to tangle them in his hair, and he walked them back to she was flush against a wall. He moved his lips to her neck, sucking on the sweet spot between her neck and shoulder.

Please don’t leave me, please, please, I love you, I love you

His thoughts snaked their way into hers through the bond he didn’t even know was there. The thoughts sent relief crashing through her.

She pulled his hair so that he would kiss her mouth again, and then let them roam down the broad panes of his chest.

He took her hands and kissed her knuckles and then, much to her surprise, knelt before her – her hands still in his.

“I can’t give you forever,” he whispered against her skin, “but I can give you tonight.”

She bent down. “Come.”

She walked away and he stood up and followed. She navigated her way through the barn to the attic that Talysa had converted to a bedroom, and was met with a twin bed in the centre of the room, and even a small bathroom to the side. It was quaint and sweet – the duvet thick and the pillows piled high. There were lanterns also strung across the ceiling, which Eleana quickly lit. No matter what Taylsa had said earlier that day, she had never intended for Kaden to stay in squalor.

Eleana sat on the bed. Kaden did the same, only an inch from touching her.

“I’ve never sat on a bed before.” He confessed.

Eleana knew this, and a smile came to her face as she thought of all the things he would be doing for the first time on a bed. “Lay down.”

He did as she suggested, and squirmed around. “I’m going to sink into it, I’m too heavy.”

“Just relax – I promise you won’t.”

He kept wiggling around, so she lied down facing him. “So tonight I’m not Eleana, and you’re not Kaden, and maybe we should just show each other how we feel without worrying about everything else.”

He moved so he was also on his side, his head resting on his hand and his gaze searching hers. “I don’t know where to start. It’s different with you, it’s always been different with you.” His lips curled slightly, and Eleana propped herself up on her elbow.

“You can start with helping me take my dress off.” She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The tie for her dress was at the back, and he would need to loosen the bow at the back of the neck as well as undo three buttons at the small of her back.

His breathing hitched as she tilted her head and exposed her neck to him, and the next second he reached out with shaking fingers to unravel the bow. The cloth covering her breasts fell free, and Kaden didn’t wait to see it slip down before he made work on the buttons. She stood up and let the dress fall to the floor, giving Kaden a full view of her behind and wings. She undid the bun on her head, letting her hair fall as well.

She could hear how heavy his breathing had become, and heard the floor creak slightly as he stood. He traced his fingers down her spine, and then up again, grazing slightly against the base of her wings. Just that touch alone was enough to make her moan his name, and her moan was enough for him to grip her shoulder and turn her so they were facing each other.

His eyes glazed over from want as he saw her in her full glory. Her generous breasts, perked nipples, long legs, tan skin. She smoothed her hands under his blazer, making him take it off. While he got it around his wings, she took her time in undoing the buttons of his shirt. Cauldron, she loved his body. She hadn’t been able to get the image of his muscled chest out of her mind since the only other night they had ever been forthcoming with each other.

The sight of his scars, and her newly acquired knowledge of how they came to be, made her lose focus. She regained it though, when she leaned forward and started to trace them with her tongue, having to kneel in the process as she went between the dips and flows of his abdomen.

She could easily see how aroused Kaden was, and not just because of his hands tangled in her hair or the quiver in his legs.

She traced him with her mouth until she came to his hip bone, having hitched down his pants slightly so she could do so.

Her fingers played with his belt, unlatching it and popping the button on his pants so she could pull them off him. He let her, eyes wide and hungry as he watched her.

As tempted as she was to just taste him then, she pushed him so he was back on the bed and she could straddle him. She just wanted to kiss him for a bit – get the taste of his lips memorised before anything else.

He had one arm around her waist, and the other hand was cupping her cheek. He knew what he was doing – his tongue on hers did things to her body she didn’t even know possible. She threw her head back in pure ecstasy when he started kissing down her neck and body again, not stopping until he caught one of her nipples in his mouth. She was pulling on his hair, but couldn’t resist the urge to stretch her arm out and start tracing his wings.

He bit her breast in pleasure, and she felt it straight down to her core.

“I want to taste you,” he moaned into her chest. He lifted her off his lap and onto her back. He hovered over her long enough to kiss her again, and then whisper the most filthy, utterly erotic thing she had ever heard into her ear. Her face went pink at his words. “Told you I could make you blush,” He smirked. He kissed her cheek, laughing to himself at getting that type of reaction from her, and started kissing down her stomach. The calluses on his hands tickled her thighs are he spread her legs apart, and his laughter stopped when he saw how wet she was for him. He kissed the inside of her thigh gently, and then looked to her to make sure he had her approval before he continued. Rather than saying yes, she straightened her leg so that she could graze her foot down the sensitive membrane of her wing. His body shuddered, and he took that as his que to lick a tentative swipe up her centre. All other thoughts except that of his tongue escaped her. Her breath hitched as he did it again, and as he found a steady rhythm her whole body felt it and her back arched. She had to hold on to the headboard behind her, otherwise the pleasure he was giving her would make her thrash. His head was buried in her and his hands wrapped around her thighs as he moaned at her pleasure. He was so good – the best she’d ever had – and she soon found herself screaming his name as she climaxed.

Her whole chest heaved as he came back up to eye level with her and smothered her moans with an opened mouth kiss. She smiled in delirium, and he brushed the hair back from her face.

“My turn,” She pulled him closer so he was covering her body with his. She didn’t think she would ever get tired of his kisses. They were pure and golden like him, and they made waves go through her body.

She felt his length hit her thigh as they kissed, and squired so he would get off her. “Lay down.” She licked his ear and forced him to sit against the pillows. He was in a position that may suggest a male at ease. His body curved perfectly to accentuate his stomach, one arm behind his head making his bicep bulge, and his legs straight in front of him. But Eleana could feel his nerves, and wouldn’t continue without knowing their source. “Are you okay?” She questioned kindly. She had legs either side of his waist, hips hovering just above his. She had plans before she rode him, but this night would not be through before she did that as well.

His hands rested on her waist. “I’ve never had a woman – a female has never touched me with her mouth. Not, uh, there.”

Eleana raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Not because she didn’t believe him, but because a female had never tried before.

“I was just – they thought it was beneath them to do something like that with a male like me-”

Eleana shut him up with a hard kiss and a grind against him. “We are equal, Kaden. There is nothing I don’t want to give to you.” She moaned. “I want to worship you.”

His eyes fluttered closed at the words. “I want to make you scream my name,” he returned, “so hard that the walls shake and you lose your voice.”

“Hm. I’ll go first.” She smiled. She tried to kiss his cheek, but he turned his head to catch her lips in his.

She kissed down his body the way that he did hers, but skimmed her teeth over him as well, occasionally biting him. She never did it hard enough to break the skin, but from what she saw it doing to him, she just might.

When she got down to his length, she smoothed her hand over it first to get a feel for its size. There was no way that was all fitting in her mouth, she wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t even fit in her body, but the sight of it made her salivate anyway.

She licked just the tip, and lowered her hand to the base.

“Eleana,” Kaden groaned – throwing his head back.

She took him in her mouth and what she could fit pumped with her hand. She took him so far down she chocked, but that just made them both all that more aroused. His member twitched and he trembled when she got him in just the right spot or at just the right angle. She knew he was close to completion – his moans were getting louder and more persistent and his length was straining. She removed her mouth but kept one hand pumping him and the other fondling further below, so she was free to kiss and suck his thighs. The way he was moaning her name made her feel like a goddess, and she didn’t think about it when she sunk her teeth into his thigh – claiming him as hers.

He jerked and came as soon as her teeth pierced his skin, and he moaned in pure euphoria. “Fuck, Eleana.” She kissed the area around the bite, quickly healing the puncture wounds so he didn’t bleed too much. “No, don’t. Don’t heal it.” His cock was already getting hard again - bless Illyrian males – so he pulled her up to face him then flipped them over so he was on top.

She smiled at him widely enough for him to see her canines, and he blushed at the sight. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he was bracing himself above her. His eyes wandered down her body again, and the next kiss he gave her was slow and passionate, and spoke his feelings to her louder than his thoughts did.

“Please, Kaden.” She murmured deliriously between kisses.

He moved his hips forwards, and she felt it through her whole body when he entered her, and let out a gasp when he filled her.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, no, please move. Fuck.” He had no idea how good it felt to have him inside her, how many times she had thought about this exact moment. Eleana mustn’t be very creative at all, because her imagination never could’ve dreamt this.

He started thrusting into her, and she gasped and moaned at every touch. The sensation of him was indescribable, and she wanted him to feel that good too. He was already moaning her name, but the noises he made when she scratched one hand down the centre of his back, right between his wings, leaving marks in their wake, was divinity in its purest form. Her other hand wandered to his wings, and his body jerked with the touch. He buried his head in the crook of her shoulder and his thrusts got faster.

One of his hands moved so that he was also rubbing her sensitive centre, and the feeling was so overwhelming that she climaxed with an explosion of magic around them. Her darkness escaped her and curled around them, and her body lit up like the sun.

He looked down at her in awe as he finished inside of her, her name escaping him in a prayer.

He collapsed down next to her when he was done, and pulled her so she as lying across his chest. Eleana had never been with a male that made her glow like Kaden did, or been with a male that made her feel so many things during sex.

“That was quite wonderful,” his hands wrapped around her, and he tangled their legs together so he could touch as much of her as he possibly could. “You are quite wonderful.”

She hummed into his chest – content to forget about anything else than the feel of his golden skin against her bronze.

“I love it when you glow. I have since that first week when I saw you open the wards at the Mountain.” He admitted to her. “I’m entranced by you, Eleana.”

She cocked her head so she could look him in the eyes. “I want to give you a proposition.”

He raised his eyebrow and smirked. “Propose away.”

“After tonight, we’re Kaden and Eleana again. We have to go home, we have to see each other every day, and we have to be as normal as possible. I can’t forget any of this, and I know you gave me only tonight, and I’m so happy that you did.” She kissed his chest, and moved so that she had her legs on either side of him – bracing herself over him with his hands on her waist and hers on his chest. “But this isn’t it Kaden. I love you, and I’m not going to stop just because you aren’t ready yet. So I give you this. After today, the next time you kiss me, and you will kiss me,” She smirked down at him, “that’s it. That’s you telling me you want to be with me, and I won’t hesitate to give you everything I have. Deal?”

His hands tightened on her. “Say it again.”

“I love you,”

“Again,”

“I love you more than anything.”

She could feel him harden against her, and she grinded back so he was ready at her entrance.

“Deal.”

She made love to him until dawn, claiming him as her own, and marking herself as his - his Dark Rose.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acohad #fanfic #feysand #nessian #a court of hears and darkness #smut

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