#rhysand x original character

[bluetimeombre]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either part 2

You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.

[thank you for the love on part one, I’m so happy Azriel is getting the love he deserves!!!! This is another long one, another 6k. But I’ve learnt a new love for writing about him and i have so many ideas. This is a continuation and final part, part one here. Enjoy]

warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.

The third time Azriel almost lost you, he was pretty sure he lost a part of himself.

They'd all gone into battle, knowing that Hybern had the numbers to match and the advantage. But they'd all gone to fight in spite of that.

It had took some time for you to get the boys to agree to let you fight- you'd trained and grew up with all three of them but this was fighting on another scale. Although, if they were going, there really wasn't much they could say to get you to stay.

You were clad in Illyrian leathers just like them, armed with weapons and power.

The first battle was over quicker than you'd anticipated. Hybern soldiers surrendered, Tarquin drowned them on land. You'd suffered little, only falling on bed exhausted by the end of the day. Sadly, you were sharing a tent with Cassian and Azriel. It was like you were young again, all sleeping in the same room. It was a habit you'd done when you were young- all looking out and protecting each other.

The only difference was that Cassian snored as he got older.

But the next battle was worse.

It was bigger than last. Hybern's forces had doubled, seemingly at of nowhere, cutting their forces apart.

It was chaos, everywhere. Every corner there was fighting and bleeding and dying. There was pain all around you. Pain you felt like it was your own.

You used all your power, as much as you could to kill and protect. From the corner of your eyes you could see Azriel fight. Your Azriel, weaving in and out of people. Your mate. He was alive. And that was all you cared about.

But you didn't realise how much you'd been pushing herself and draining your power. Every time you stopped, you swayed on your feet, stumbling.

One of Hyberns men came for you as you were crouched and you barley blocked with your sword, rolling onto your back and slashing his arm off.

Not before he landed a sword in your thigh.

It had been deep burning and you yelled, yanking it out. Even with the wound, you kept fighting and fighting your way through until you saw a blaze of red and a familiar cry.

Cassian.

He'd been run through.

It was easy to push past exhaustion and winnow to his side, killing the man who'd been near him and any others that had been close enough. You fall to your knees next to him. 'Cassian, you prick.'

'You kiss your mate with that mouth,' he gasped. He was the only one who knew about Az and the bond. The only one you'd allow to make jokes.

You look down to his wound and gaged. Mother above, his guts were hanging out. 'No, no, no, come on, big guy, you have to stand.'

He groaned. 'Yea, don't think I can do that, sweetheart,' his eyes, lulled back.

You slap him in the face. Perhaps you wouldn't have felt guilt if it weren't for the way his eyes widened. 'You know I hate being called that.'

He laughed as his stomach and all its contents heaved out. Ignoring the pain in you, you hold his stomach, keeping him together. 'I promised Nesta i'd look after her,' he said. 'Please look after her.'

'Do it yourself,' you groaned.

Finally, Azriel came to your side and picked Cassian up like it was nothing, flying him to the tents. If only you still had your wings, you could have done it, saved him quicker.

Then, you were thrown back into the battle. Covered in his blood and yours, you fought through them all, slashing and killing like it was nothing. Like you had no reason to bat an eyelash at anything happening.

Eventually, it ended, but you couldn't even concentrate on who won or how much you'd lost. Your head ached, your leg was tied up in a bloody bandage ripped from your clothes. But none of that mattered.

Cassian was in bed, healing slowly. But he would live, everyone could tell. Especially with the way he picked fights. He argued with Rhys about throwing himself into danger, him and Nesta appeared to be having words with their eyes. Even Mor and Feyre argued. You were the only one silent with Azriel in the back. Too exhausted to even open your mouth.

That night, you tied up your wounds and fell asleep without changing.

It only got worse.

Elain- Feyre's sister and the most precious- was stolen from Hybern. You had only agreed to go and save her with a few selected others because your mate was in that few selective others.

It hadn't escaped your notice how he looked at her, was watchful over her like he once was with you. You saw the tick in his jaw at the news she was gone. You knew that this was the reason you hadn't told him. Knowing that he deserved someone like her, better than you. Kind and hopeful. You weren't. So the only thing you could do was watch your mate find love in someone else.

And you'd do it grudgingly but happy for him.

Azriel had took of with her. You and your high lady fought, fought through ash arrows and everything.

'You should get out of her, y/n,' said Feyre.

You groaned as an arrow skimmed your shoulder. Another had already got your hip. 'If you try to order me out of here, i'll be really pissed off at you.'

'I don't care if it gets you out!' she snapped, arguing like a real sister would.

'Yea, well- I was never one to listen to Rhys either.'

And Azriel was gone. Everything was fine.

You and Feyre ran, ran even as Tamlin defended you, ran until-

An arrow hit you in the back, straight to one of your old wing scars.

You tumbled, rolling on the ground as it broke and imbedded in your back. You screamed, in spite of yourself.

'You have to fly,' someone was telling you. Or saying it in general, frankly you had no idea what was going on. 'You have to take her.'

You rolled onto your stomach, groaning and trying to get yourself up. There was blood running down your arm, how did that get there?

'Y'n.'

You groaned, 'Azriel. I can't fly.'

'I know, I know- i've got you.' He picked you up, arm under your legs and around your shoulders.

'Elian, Azriel-'

'Feyre has her,' he told you. He sounded angry. Or afraid. Somehow his emotions were very easy to mix up.

'Feyre isn't strong enough.'

'She'll have to be.'

'You should take them, Elian-'

'I don't give a fuck about Elian right now, y'n.'

Just like that, he took off with you in his arms and your blood raining down on the camp of Hybern. You could barley hear anything over the wind... but you could feel it.

Something had tugged painfully at the bond, throwing you into a scream. Something had happened to Azriel. You twisted in his arms, finding gashing claw marks in his back from one of the hounds that had chased them down. His face was bleached white in pain, his hold on you tight.

Glancing around, you could just see Feyre in a blur of people.

'Azriel-' you gasped. He was in pain, so much pain.

He didn't say anything, just squeezed you tighter and looking ahead, barking orders as Feyre flew for the first time in need, in desperation. You remembered what that was like, trusting your life in them. But Azriel's wings, they were bleeding out. You remembered the pain. You'd go through it every day to spare him a minute of it.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You and Azriel landed back in the camp in a blur of pain.

Even with him leaving a trail of blood, he managed to set you down like you were porcelain. You didn't cry out. You didn't yell for help. You threw his arm over your shoulder and supported him.

Nesta and Rhys rushed to Feyre.

You hated your brother for a long moment.

Elain wondered over, chained but whole.

Azriel moved from you, checking on Elian. You only managed to watch them as she kissed his cheek.

The pain came to you then. Your head, shoulder, back. You turned from the crowd of family. Elain moved to hug her sister, Rhys stayed at Feyre's side.

Thesan, someone you barley knew as more than a healer, came to you first but you pushed him away, pushed him to Azriel. 'His wings. Heal him, or i'll rip you to pieces.'

He didn't have to be told twice.

You stumbled your way to camp, to your little tent. You didn't share it with Cassian anymore as he was still healing and Azriel would be a while- needing healing of your own.

You collapsed on the bed, promising to look after yourself- just after your nap.

You were so fast asleep you didn’t even hear Azriel come in and sigh at the sight of you…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel was fighting when it happened. Specifically, when it snapped.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

No, he wasn't completely healed. But he had to fight. He wouldn't push himself, he knew that would be stupid. But he wouldn't watch as everyone fought. As you fought. He'd hardly seen you. He knew your back would be in pain. He knew you'd be in pain and you were still fighting, so far from him and out of reach.

He was thinking of you when it snapped.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

His soul sang it, his heart rose with it.

His shadows whispered it.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

y/n.

And the first thing he felt over the bond wasn't happiness or love. It was pain. It was death.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

In spite of the pain in his wings, how he'd been told not to fly, he did. He jumped into the skies, soaring over armies and dead to find you. He followed that pain, he followed the bond until he found you.

You, lying in your own blood. Again.

He fell next to you, his power eradicating anywhere near you. They dissovled, the ground cracked under him and his syphons shone in raw power.

'y/n?' he held your body, shaking you. Blood, so much. A sword had torn through your gut. 'Don't do this to me.'

Mate. Mate. Mate.

You cough, a thin stream of blood rolling from your lips. 'Azriel?'

'You're mine,' it was the first thing he could bring himself to say. 'You're my mate. Y/n. You have to hold on, ok? I'm gonna-gonna get you to safety.'

Something like a laugh escaped you, your body wracking with it. 'Of course, finally snaps for you as i'm dying.'

Snaps for you. Mate. Mate.

She knows, his shadows sung. She's known.

Azriel called out to Rhys in every way he could. 'We're gonna be fine. We're gonna be mates, y/n. You have to live, you understand?'

'Not really.' your eyes flutter shut.

'No!' he yelled, shaking you again.

'What's happened?' Rhysand landed next to him, blanking when he saw you in Azriel's arms, bleeding to death. How many times did this have to happen? How many times would you throw yourself into danger?

'She's my mate,' Azriel repeated. He tested it out loud, speaking it to the mother. How cruel was she? to give him this then try to take her away. Well, the mother wouldn't get that chance. Azriel would fight her if she tried to lay a hand on your life.

'What?' said Rhys.

'My mate,' he all but growled as Rhys got closer.

He put a hand on the back of Azriels neck, a hand on your head. 'We have to save her, Az.' he knew all about mating of course, knew that Azriel wanted nobody around her. But this was too save her. 'She's my sister too, the last sister I have. I care about her to.'

Azriel wanted to throw a thousand insults his way but refrained. If not because he was high lord, but also because you were dying.

They got you to safety, Azriel carrying you through to a tent.

'Y/n?!' Cassian rushed over, seeing you in his brothers arms, bleeding out and unresponsive.

Azriel pushed past him, setting you down on the bed. 'Get everyone, every healer now.' He had no idea who he was trying to demand, but he couldn’t watch this, couldn’t see you in.

You were still in your bed. Behind him, Feyre rushed to her mate, wrapping her arms around his torso as your brother stared at you in muted horror.

Azriel was leaning over you, sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘She’s my mate.'

'What?' Said Cassian, ‘She told you?'

Azriel felt the world stop around him. Not did you know about the bond and hadn’t told him, you’d told someone else? Cassian? His hand stilled in brushing your hair back, his shadows coaxing you instead.

Rhysand spoke what Azriel wanted to scream. 'You knew?'

'She-She told me,'

Azriel had always had an iron fist control on his emotions, as relied on to be spy master, he had to. But his patience was hanging on by a thread. You were still bleeding out and nobody had come and Cassian knew. Cassian knew about his mate before he did.

His shadows caressed you and, leaving you in the coolness of their touch, he leapt up, marching around the bed toward him.

Rhys was quicker, a hand on Azriels chest to stop him. 'Calm, brother.'

'Calm?' He seethed. 'When-how long have you known?' He shouted.

Cassian breathed out, pushing his hair back . His wings were tucked in behind him. 'She told me, before she went under the mountain.'

Even Rhysand let him go, blowing out air and throwing his arms over his head as Feyre gasped.

Azriel stumbled, a hand to his chest. His shadows were divided between him and caring for you. 'Fifty years,' he gasped.

You’d known for fifty years- possibly longer and hadn’t said a word.

He was panicking, his breath escaping him. His shadows settled uneasy around him. And the only person who was capable of calming him was laying unconscious.

Thesan burst in, knowing the injured already and working on you quickly.

Azriel almost launched at him, just for touching you. The reasonable part of him knew he needed to touch to heal, but the part that was your mate wanted him dead.

Cassian held him back, physically.

Azriel glowered at him. 'I wouldn’t touch me if i were you, brother,' he practically spat the words.

Rhysand left Feyre with a kiss on her cheek, coming to Azriel who was looking over you on the other side. 'Az, you need to rest-you’re hurt, too, remember?'

He shook his head, staring down at you. Mother above you were pale, so pale. 'I-I can’t feel anything Rhys, I can’t feel her through the bond.'

'My sister is a fighter, she’ll make it through.'

Azriel scoffed. His shadows were caressing up and down your arm. ‘Don’t pretend you’ve ever cared about her like a brother.'

Rhysand inhaled sharply. This was just fear, he told himself. 'Azriel.'

'No,' he said, his finger brushing back your hair. 'You only care about her when she’s dying and all y/n does is worship you- ever since you were children.'

Cassian tried to advance, 'Azriel, you wouldn’t be saying any of this if y/n wasn’t hurt.'

He laughed, bitterly. 'No, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have to. I’d bite my tongue. But your sister is dying and the last time you cared was the last time she almost died- it killed her to lose her wings and you were never there! And you teach your mate to fly right in front of her!'

Rhys growled. ‘Don’t bring my mate into this!'

‘You’ve brought mine into this!' He yelled. 'Everything she does is for you. Working for you. My mate followed you down to the mountain even when you didn’t care.'

'Of course I cared.'

'Then why did she feel so alone down there!'

‘How would you know, Azriel? You weren’t there!'

'Because I know her, bond or not. And you’ve been otherwise occupied.'

Cassian moved between the two, holding them apart. 'None of this matters to y/n does it.'

Azriel blankes them all, settling next to you. He vaguely heard Cassian send Rhysand and Feyre away. He felt him longer before he felt him leave.

And then all Azriel could feel, was you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You felt pain first. The steady thumping of it through your body. It started in your leg, numbing it. Then, her back ached- a familiar pain you'd felt before. It sent panic through you before you realised they can't take your wings twice.

Then, it was in your gut, stinging. Just the thought of moving was hurting- aching.

There was a coldness around you, draped over like shadows. Shadows...

That's when you felt the tug that you'd neglected to feel for more than half a century.

The bond. There was finally something tied to the other end.

The shadows around you must've known you were awake as they grew frantic around you.

You opened your eyes, slowly, afraid to what you may see. Afraid to the eyes you'll have to meet.

Azriel was sat on a chair next to you, bare chested with only bandages around him. Immediately, you were at a disadvantage. He was looking at you, dark eyes pouring into yours as his hands curled around shadows.

'What happened?' you asked.

'You were run through,' he said, voice wavering.

'Oh.'

'You're my mate.'

Your eyes flickered away, staring at your tent. 'Oh.'

'That's it?' he whispered. There was some heart-break tainting his voice. 'You're not gonna say something?'

You pulled the blanket over you, daring to move to sit up. He shifted, but his shadows helped you. 'What do you want me to say, Az?'

'Why did you tell Cassian and not me?' he asked. 'Why didn't you tell me, for fifty years?'

'It's-it's not a big deal.'

'Not a big deal?' he all but seethed. 'I'd say finding your mate is a pretty big thing, y/n. It's the person to spend the rest of your life with.'

'Can we not, do this now?' you winced, as the words left your mouth.

'You're right, maybe we should wait another fifty years to bring it up when you're dying.' you've never heard him be so cruel, you'd never even argued with him before this.

'I wasn't dying,' you mumbled.

He scoffed. 'You had an infected wound in your leg that you didn't tell anyone about. An ash arrow was imbedded in your back. Imbedded! You didn't see anyone about it and then- you run into battle and get yourself stabbed.'

'I didn't get myself stabbed!' you argued, your temper rising above all other judgment. 'I didn't rush out in there, wanting to die!'

'I held you as you bled out!' he yelled, standing up from his seat. You were swinging your legs over the bed, ignoring every twinge in your body. 'Do you have any idea what that's like? Not even to hold you as you die in my arms the first time but the second. And to know this time, I was holding my mate?'

You bit down on your lip. He had to use the word with such care and love even when angry. You could feel it. For once, guessing his emotions wasn't needed as you felt it all. The taunt anger in him, the pull of anxiety and above all else, the weight of his love.

Azriel walked around you. 'Please, you have to tell me. Why didn't you say something to me? Why wouldn't you tell me you're my mate? Am I that repulsive to you?'

'What?'

He gulped.

You shook your head as he knelt in front of you, shadows pooled around the two of you, as if they were trying to hold the two of you together. You took his hands, holding them and let something like love flow down the bond. 'You are the most beautiful thing in this world. Something better than me. I wouldn't burden you with that.'

He rose his gaze to you. 'Burden me?'

'Do you think i've enjoyed lying to you?' you ask, finally finding your words. 'Do you think I've liked being your mate and never being with you? That I left you for fifty years and thought of you every moment of every day, all day long. That when I come back I wonder if you or Mor had grown closer? Or if Elian would finally tell you how much she loves you? It's been eating me alive. But it's a small price to pay.'

Azriel grasped at his words, chocking on them. 'Elian is nothing to me, nothing.'

You pushed yourself up, using his shoulder to steady yourself before you move around him. 'Why? Have you only just decided that because I’m your mate? That’s not how it should go, Azriel.'

He was following you around your tent as you slipped on armour and leathers over your night dress. ‘I want you, only you.'

'Because of the bond?'

'Because I’ve always only wanted you!'

You laugh. 'No, you haven’t.'

'If we’d talked about this maybe fifty years ago you’d know that!'

You shook your head. Perhaps a part of you didn't want to believe him and all those wasted years at your fault, but you didn't want to believe his words either. Because what did that mean? That he loved you and wanted you. But that seemed just as impossible to you. How could he want someone so wrecked who'd done nothing but run away from her feelings and does nothing to make anyone happy?

'I don't want you to feel like that,' said Azriel, approaching her. She thought she'd spoken aloud before she realised he could feel everything that was hers. She'd only ever had to shield her thoughts from her brother- and he rarely sort her thoughts. 'Please, please-' he took your shoulders, turning you around and gently resting his head on yours.

You could feel his warm breath over your lips. You almost lost all resolve, with him that close. You'd never been so close to him, close enough to touch. To kiss. To know finally what it mean to have that deep connection that everyone was meant for.

One person in the whole world to belong to.

And he was stuck with her.

'Azriel-'

'Whatever you're thinking about yourself, i've thought about me a thousand times. And ever since we were kids you've always stopped me from thinking that. You've always told me what I was worth,' he whispered. His hands were wondering down your arms, sending shivers down you. He could've been doing it on purpose, distracting you. 'Why won't you accept it for yourself?'

You gulped down every uneasy thought. 'Because you're good, Az and i'm-'

'You're everything.'

'I'm not,' you look up at him, his own face blurry from your tears unwilling to fall. 'I'm not a fighter, i'm afraid of pain. And I could never be a leader, because i'm scared of losing people. I'm terrified about it half the time. Why do you think I followed Rhys down to that stupid party that I knew I wouldn't come back from? Because he'd do the same for me? We both know he wouldn't. But what would losing him mean for you? or Cass, or Mor? I was a coward and I wanted to hide from all the pain his leaving would have caused.'

Azriel shook his head, words sinking in. You were comparing yourself, to warriors like him and Cass, to the high lord- your own brother. 'It was unbearable without you. Maybe if it was just Rhysand i'd have still been able to be spymaster, because that's what he needed. But when I realised you'd gone to, it ruined me,' he admitted. 'I didn't care what you would've wanted, because you weren't here to tell me.'

You rub at your forehead, the tension creating a pain in your already aching body.

'And to anyone who made you feel inferior or worthless, i'll kill them,' he said. It was a shine of the real Azriel. The one who made a promise and never broke it.

You smirk. 'Can't kill the high lord.'

'No,' huffed Azriel, like it was a mild inconvenience. 'But I sure can punch him in the face.'

You laughed at that and Azriel smiled. He'd cracked you.

But your amusement dropped quickly, he felt it like a penny dropping. He let go of you as you turned away, wiping at your eyes. He didn't want to see you cry, didn't want to be the one to make you upset. He only wanted to make you feel loved.

'This isn't how I wanted this to go.'

Azriel suddenly felt conscious of himself. Maybe this wasn't so much about what you felt, maybe it was more about what you felt toward him. 'You really hate the mating bond that much?'

You look over to him. 'Being your mate is my greatest honour. But I don't want you to love me just because you have to.'

'It's not that-'

'And I know you're gonna keep saying that.'

'Until you believe me,' he assured her. 'Even if I have to tell you every day until I die.'

'I can't ask you to do that.'

He smiled at you, a heart-breaking smile of love. 'You haven't.'

You open your mouth to say something, but you're interrupted by Cassain poking his head through the tent flaps. The rest of his whole body was hidden, only showing his bronze face and hair framing him. There was a sheepish smile on his lips.

Azriel huffed. 'Cassian.'

'What? It didn't sound like much love making going on.'

'Mother above,' you sighed.

'What?' whined Cassian. 'I'm just saying, didn't sound like I was interrupting anything.'

'Personally I didn't know he was capable of saying that many words,' said another voice, familiar and dull. Nesta.

You frown. 'I'm sorry, is the whole camp out there.' You storm out, without Azriel to stop you.

He let you get away, again, and now there was no way he'd get you to accept the bond until the battle was done.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next time you and Azriel spoke, the war was over.

Elian had stabbed Hybern, Nesta had delivered the killing blow, to the head. And your brother had died.

For those few minutes of his death you wanted Feyre weep for him as you stood paralyzed, unable to move. This was the brother you worshiped, the one you’d follow to the end of the world. Did he know that when he went where you could not follow?

Feyre had done everything she could, she begged for his life back. And when her wish was granted, you were collapsing on his other side. Tears of joy in your eyes that Rhys wiped away.

Your family, safe.

Everyone seemed happy to return to Velaris. Home. Scars were left over everyone, fears and pains. Some wore them better than others.

You'd thrown yourself into life. And avoiding Azriel. Suddenly there were many friends you'd neglected that you needed to take dinner with, or so many spontaneous Rita nights with Nesta.

And none of it escaped his notice. The steady thump of the bond still thrived inside of you, his shadows followed everywhere you went, even loitering in your room.

If he was doing it in an attempt to annoy you, then you weren't gonna break first.

After a particularly harrowing Rita's night, the only thing you wanted to do was sleep in for the rest of the day, hide away from everyone and everything. Call it your coping mechanism.

Alas, there was no peace as your curtains were thrown open, light spilling in and burning through your eyelids.

'Knock it off!' the shadows had never bothered with waking you up before- it seemed they'd picked the worst time to start.

'We need to talk,' said a voice that certainly wasn't a shadow.

Rhysand.

You groan, rolling over. 'Can't you talk to me when i'm not hungover.'

'And when would that be, sister? you're getting as bad as Nesta.'

You throw your pillow off and at him, but he dodged it easily and with a smug smile. 'I hate it when you call me that.'

'What? When I compare you to Nesta? Clean up your act then.' He stood over your bed, his arms folded over his chest.

You glare at him. 'I meant sister.' You shuffled up, brushing your hair back.

Rhysand frowned and perched himself on the edge of your bed. There was something he wasn't saying, and you watched it weight heavy on his shoulders. 'You know the last time I was in your room you were throwing glasses at me and yelling at me to get out.'

'Well, don't give me ideas.'

His lips curled into a smile of amusement before he turned solemn again. 'Do you love me, y/n?'

You hadn't expected that. Your hangover could only get worse, your head swimming with possibilities as to why he was asking. And nervous, you were nervous. Maybe you'd never said you loved him out loud but surely your actions were enough of a tell. 'You're my high lord and my brother, of course.' you shrug it off, as if it was nothing.

The shadows trailed up the bed, as if sensing your anxiety.

Rhysand glanced over at you. 'Do you think I don't love you?'

You hesitate, chewing at the skin of your gum.

'Because I do. I do love you. You're my little sister, how can I not?' he muttered. 'And I didn't know you felt like that.'

'It was just sort of... obvious,' you said. 'I was never your sister, not really. I always knew that. You'd never see me like that so, I gave up thinking you would. But you're the only family I have.'

'No, I'm not,' he denied. 'Y/n, everyone in this house loves you. They're your family. And i'm sorry- i'm so sorry if my actions have ever made you think different.'

'Why now?' you ask, eyes screwed up looking at him. 'Why are you saying all this now, what's changed?'

He shook his head, strands of his hair- the same as yours- falling over his eyes. 'You almost died, died on that battlefield and I-I wasn't the first one there. Granted, it was your mate that reached you first but I, I wasn't there quick enough.'

You meet his gaze, his purple eyes sad in a way you'd only ever seen under the mountain. 'You died.'

'And as I was dying one of my deepest regrets was not calling you sister enough,' he shifted closer, taking your head in his hands as if you were a little kid. 'You are my sister. Full flesh and blood. Full love of mine. You are my family. After everything you've done for me. You were right, I needed you under there, when there was nothing good to keep me grounded, but you. My little sister.'

You were sure you were tearing up in front of him.

'You'll always be my sister.'

You laugh. 'Maybe I should get stabbed more often.'

'No,' he said seriously. 'I don't think Azriel would like that very much.'

The mention of him changed the tone in conversation, changed the very beating of your heart.

'What's going on with you two?'

'Oh, I see,' you tease, 'talk to me above sister and brotherly relations just to get in my love life. Not a good look on you high lord.'

He laughed. 'No, it's not that. I just care about the two of you, a lot. And you both deserve to be happy. And I think you'd be happiest with each other.'

You look down, twirling the rings on your fingers.

'Would it be so bad to try to love him?'

You shake your head, smiling as a tear rolls down your cheek. 'I don't even have to try. Feels like i've loved him forever.' his shadows climbed up your arm, leaving Rhysand to smile at the affection.

'You'll work it out,' said Rhys, leaning over and kissing the crown of your head.

Your door was thrown open, startling the two of you.

Azriel stood there. For his entrance, he didn't at all seem that confident when he stood in front of the two of you. His hands didn't know how to hold themselves in front of him.

Your brows rose. 'Were you listening at the door?'

'Azriel,' scolded Rhysand with a stupid grin.

'Get dressed,' he said simply to you. 'There's something you need to see.'

Without much room for argument, you kicked them both out and dressed.

You'd grudgingly let Azriel hold your hand as he led you through the woods. You'd winnowed in at an illyrian camp before he took you through it and into the woods close by.

It was the same camp you'd first met Azriel in. The oldest where you'd all become friends. You'd asked what you were doing there, but he was quiet as he led you through, helping you over roots or breaking twigs from the trees so they didn't hit you.

'Azriel, to any other girl, you leading her silently through a woods without saying anything would be a bit suspicious,' you tell him. His shadows trailed behind the two of you and his hand was secure in yours. You knew not to be scared, but you were still cautious.

'I wouldn't show any girl this,' he said.

After another half hour of walking, the two of you stumbled across a small hut. It was a tiny thing really, made out of twigs and sticks, hay and mud. It looked like something a child was capable of making.

Azriel paused in front of it. He let go of you hand and reached for the door. He was as tall as it and his wings had to tuck in tightly behind him.

Hesitantly, you followed in.

It was just as small as it looked and dirty, like it hadn't been touched in years. Cobwebs hung low (his shadows quickly tried to bat them all away for you) there was dirt and hay all over the floor. Glasses were dust filled and left around with a hundred other things. Some looked new, others old.

And yet, strangely familiar.

'I made this place,' said Azriel.

You looked back at him. He was hunched over a large box that was overflowing with things. 'You?'

'The first time my brothers picked on me, I came to these woods, working on this for days. Every time things got too much back then, i'd come here. I've been coming back for years.' he glanced at you, a sheepish look on his face. 'I've never showed anyone this before.'

You look around the place in new perspectives. The shadows settled around the place. You pictured a little Az, running here and hiding from his brothers. Did he feel alone? Did he feel un-loved? You were so enamoured by it you didn't realise he'd settled on the ground, pulling out things from his box.

'This is your glove, the one's you were wearing when we first met. You took them off to beat up some kid who was being mean to me. You didn't go back for them, you didn't even care.'

He said, pulling out a pair of red wool gloves. In spite of the hut, they were in perfect condition. Pristine. You remembered first meeting him, remembered the little soldier who'd been horrible. Those gloves wouldn't go anywhere near your hand now.

Azriel went in again. 'This is the empty glass jar of the cream you used to help my burns. Here's a book you read to me when I couldn't flip the pages myself. The notes you'd leave when you had to go back to camp. The flowers you picked for me and gave me for my birthday. Dried and stamped from every time you gave them to me.'

You stood, in shock as he kept taking things out.

'A terrible drawing I did of you when I was young. A locket of yours that broke and you never wore again. Stamps from our first theatre trip. Empty bottles from our first night together in Rita's- and Cassian's too. A letter you wrote to me when I was on a mission. A black ribbon from your hair, you used to always wear it with these things. Honestly, the amount I have in here,' and he pulled out several, of varying shades. Black, white, grey, red, dark green. All yours.

Azriel wasn't done. 'A page of annotations you did in one of Rhysand's books. A copy of your favourite poems. A coaster from the first time just you and I went to dinner. Here's some stones from when I first taught you to skim them. A quill that I used to use to write you letters. An old ring of yours is here too. Here's the first dagger you got me. It's too precious to me to be used to kill.'

Tears were falling down your cheeks as you watched him pull them all out and explain them in depth. There was more but the sight of it all was becoming blurred through your tears. The bond felt heavy and beautiful in you.

Azriel finally put the box down and fell to his knees in front of you. His hands came around the back of your thighs, holding you there as his eyes looked up into yours. 'Don't you ever think I don't love you, when I have loved you since we were eleven years old.'

You stutter on you breath. 'H-how?'

He rests his head on your stomach, looking utterly at your will and completely in love. 'How could I not?'

Slowly, as you could not move too fast, you settled down on your knees across from him. His hands moved up to your arms as yours went to his cheeks, brushing back his hair.

'It was always going to be you, wasn't it?' you mumbled. 'How could it be anyone else?'

Azriel kissed you then, finally. His lips were as soft as they'd looked, as you'd always imagined. His hands drifted to your waist, finger tips digging into to hold you close. His hands were strong, but his lips were gentle. He pulled away, only to groan in need before reaching for your lips again, harder, desperate.

His teeth bit down on your bottom lip, tongue sliding in to feel every corner of your mouth as his hands wondered around you, trying to grip onto any bit of you he could. Your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him closer. Close enough to consume, to breath in.

You pulled back enough to catch your breath, arms still around his shoulders. 'Mother above, am I gonna make you the best meal of your life.'

But that could wait. For now, you'd settle for a dusty floor in the little house in the woods.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Taglist: @tothestarsandwhateverend @darlingbravebelle @lil-lupa @haileycannotcometothephantom @fairywriter-oracle @isa1b2h3 @tele86 @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @unleashthelion @naturakaashi @aurora1115 @sirens-and-moonflowers @azriels-shadowsinger @willowpains @crazylokonugget @abysshaven @anuttellaa @wishfulwithwine @one-big-fangirl @harrystylesfan2686 @charlotteintumbleland @mellowarcadefun @starseedsamurai

[thesunloveschips]

Eye of the Storm (Masterlist)

Summary: In the wake of Rhysand’s ascension as High Lord, the Bone Carver gifts a prophecy. More than five hundred years later, Azriel continues to wait for the one who is finally reborn as his High Lady’s sister. All it takes a dip in the Cauldron for things to start falling into place.

****

Prologue

Chapter 1: The Mortals' Side of the Wall

Chapter 2: Mortals and Immortals

Chapter 3: The Archeron Sisters

Chapter 4: Introductions and Newborns

Chapter 5: Brothers and Sisters

Chapter 6: Awaken. Remember. Live.

Chapter 7: Awake

Chapter 8: Conflict

Chapter 9: Family Trauma

Chapter 10: An Unfamiliar World

Chapter 11: Through the Mating Bond

Chapter 12: Dinner

Chapter 13: Dreams and Desires

Chapter 14: To Know Is To Love

Chapter 15: A Prelude of Power

****

TAGLIST:

@waytoomanyteenagefeels @impossibelle @esposadomd @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @judig92 @bunnyredgirl @sh4nn @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kattzillaa @ronnieglennn @wallacewillow0773638 @forgiveliv @justdreamstars @donttellthecats @cat-or-kitten @jojodojo02 @wandas-dream @evylynny @weasleyreidstyles @stqrgirlies-blog @why4anne @acourtofdreamsandshadows @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe @macimads @footyandformula @noelli-smv @mqlfoyelf @thehighlordishere @slytherintaco @spideytingley @deeshag @footyandformula @nebarious @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @prettylittlewrites @lilah-asteria @5onedirection5 @hanitastic @sevikas-whore @krowiathemythologynerd @myladysapphire @freyagallileaevans @azrielrot @rcarbo1 @i-am-infinite @latinxbipride @moni-cah @fantanbietsson @julsgrace @angel-graces-world-of-chaos

****

Hello.

To those who asked me to add you to my taglist, I have tagged you in the masterlist for Eye of the Storm. Initially, I did not know how to tag you all but this what I found after a google search.

If anyone is facing any issues related to the same, please let me know. I will try my best to resolve them.

I also ask for your understanding as I am new to posting in this platform. Therefore, I might take some time to get used to this.

Thank you for your patience!

Much love Chips

[hellwantfuckme]

shameless.

summary: she hates solstices, but Azriel has his own way of making her liking the solstices.

warnings: smut, fingering, oral (f receiving)

words: 4.7k

author's note: I'm not sure if I like this or I hate this. English isn't my first language and is my first time writing smut after years of reading it😭. Just let me know if you want a second part:).

Every solstice, since Eclipse was of use of reason, had been the day on which she had kept herself the furthest away from her family, from the paranoid mother, who was a ticking time bomb that when exploded burned and scorched forests, dried up oceans. From the exhausted father, who still maintained his mocking humor from his younger years, when he still had his youth, when the weight on his shoulders was light, unaware that the burden would increase over the years.

In reality, for years she had had a flame of hope under layers of sharp ice, that someday, they could spend the holidays in a somewhat normal way. But over time that flame had done nothing more than extinguish, leaving in its wake smoke. Smoke that filled her lungs and didn't let her breathe, smoke that oppressed her chest, that made her so overwhelmed that her eyes clouded with tears.

That smoke hadn't disappeared to this day.

The warm room by the fireplace, the orange light, gave her a perfect view of everything that was happening throughout the large, lively living room. She heard Cassian's laughter and Mor's insults towards him. The more or less trivial conversations among the rest that spread throughout the room like grains of sand in the sea.

Eclipse just knew she didn't have enough wine.

In reality, she hadn't wanted to be here, it was Feyre, who with puppy eyes, had almost begged her to attend. Just for one year, to try to see what they did, how they did it. And she promised that if she felt too overwhelmed she could leave.

Eclipse had been thinking of leaving since she had walked through the door and greeted every member of the inner circle, even those who didn't sit so well with her as Mor. She couldn't help but feel that, in some way, the smell of her anxiety would become thick enough for everyone present to smell it, even through the glamour she had put on the scent of her emotions, and ruin the party for them.

The glamour was a band-aid on the crack in the earthquake floor, it did nothing to help her mental state. She just took another sip of the expensive wine, if only she didn't have that suffocating predestined feeling rooted in her chest, she would have admired the taste of the good, very expensive wine.

The warmth in the room was probably just right to keep them comfortable in the cold winter, but Eclipse felt it was too much, even the thin dress with an opening that showed her leg and a tremendous neckline felt like too much.

Everything was too much.

But she could leave, right? She could get up from the corner of the couch where she had been sitting for the last half hour, leave, and no one would judge her. She had her issues with some people in this court, but everyone had matured enough not to judge her if she suddenly left, end of story.

The place next to her on the couch sank slightly under the weight of an Illyrian who smelled like cedar and mist. Some of the tension in her shoulders left her. Just a little.

He didn't say a word, just glanced at her. Eclipse knew that was enough for him to know everything she was wondering about; after all, he was the Spymaster.

But the look wasn't heavy on her, it wasn't overwhelming. Eclipse looked at him too, turning her head just slightly to meet his gaze.

He seemed relaxed; it was one of the few times Eclipse saw him without his usual Illyrian leathers, without the bright siphons. Eclipse knew he enjoyed these festivities, the solstices. She could understand why, his family, probably the most precious thing to him, all in one room. No problems or anxieties or fights. Just them.

Another reason why Eclipse didn't feel like part of all this. She looked away.

Azriel drank in every expression of hers, hated the tension in her shoulders and back. Hated the way her brow furrowed slightly, her fingers squeezing the wine glass. Something inside him urged him to provide her with comfort of any kind.

Maybe it was because he had already consumed a reasonable amount of wine, maybe it was because he couldn't bear to see her so uncomfortable, especially in a time when she was supposed to be happy. Each of his cousins had managed to overcome whatever was haunting them because something was still threatening them, and Eclipse seemed to be doing the same, until the solstice. Where everything fell apart. Azriel wondered why and only remembered the firm, somewhat sad words Nesta had once said about Eclipse:

"We all demanded too much of her," Nesta had begun, speaking in the past, her voice tinged with regret. Cassian's hand had rested on hers, offering support for whatever she was feeling. "And she accepted it, she dealt with it as best as she could. If she still can't handle the festivities, if they're still too much for her, no one will demand that she heal quickly, get over it all at once, and fit into this too."

Azriel wondered if her words were, in addition, a reflection of how she would have liked them to behave around her when she was still struggling with constant bad habits.

He thought for a second, just one more look at the anxiety dancing in her eyes was enough fuel. Azriel placed his hand on her exposed knee.

Eclipse froze, her gaze slowly dropped to where their skins met, looked for a second, two. Insecurity filled Azriel; he was almost sure she was looking at his scars, and his own shoulders tensed.

But just a second later, as though she had sensed his intention to pull away, her hand settled on top of his. A gesture so natural, comfortable even, that it made his heart skip a beat.

Eclipse leaned back against the couch's backrest, bringing the edge of the dark red wine glass to her lips for a slow sip. She looked at him again, with a half-expectant look, bright with what, if he didn't know any better, he would describe as innocence, and the touch went from simply resting her hand there to a gentle, firm grasp.

Firm enough to keep her grounded. To keep her from wandering in whatever was tormenting her.

Eclipse refrained from licking her lips, definitely not wanting to ruin the lipstick.

"You know, maybe you should stop wearing those leathers so often, you look good, more than good." The comment escaped her lips with such naturalness, sincerity, that Azriel couldn't help but feel his cheeks redden slightly. The words stuck in his throat.

"I don't mean you don't look good in that outfit either, just that..."

Eclipse's hesitant words stopped as she noticed the color in his cheeks, a tiny smile pulled at Eclipse's lips.

"I'm sorry, I think I've had too much wine."

"No," Azriel hurried to reassure. "It's okay. You look... splendid, absolutely."

His eyes drifted away from her face, roved over the exposed collarbones, the particularly tattooed one underneath. "Born to die." Then over the neckline of her dress, and he couldn't help but linger there a fraction of a second, no more than what was appropriate.

Eclipse, it seemed, hadn't noticed the way his eyes had moved. Her cheeks had a barely noticeable blush, her gaze slightly lowered, embarrassed, he recognized quickly. Then it was Azriel who couldn't help the amused little smile that tugged at his lips.

His hand moved up her exposed leg slowly. Her heart skipped a beat as Azriel continued to raise it almost too slowly, her own hand still on top of his. It climbed until it was on her thigh, moving his hand so that it was on the inside, burying his fingers minimally.

Eclipse held her breath, her cheeks turning a darker pink. Her eyebrows arched just slightly, looking at Azriel out of the corner of her eye, but he looked straight ahead, as if nothing was happening, as if her pulse wasn't racing, her heart hammering against her chest as the contact burned.

Eclipse swallowed, and took a sip of wine, her head spinning.

I probably should be thinking that they were in a room full of people, and Azriel had his hand buried in the middle of her. But as she glanced around the room, and felt Azriel's hand moving inch by inch upwards, so slowly that she felt like she was going crazy, no one was really paying attention. Mor and Cassian laughing at something Nesta had said, and Rhys with a furrowed brow. Eclipse thought she heard something about the smaller wingspan of the three Illyrians in the background. She didn't really pay attention. Feyre and Elain were chatting quietly across the room while Amren was sitting in Varian's lap, the heir of the Summer Court leaning in to whisper something in her ear.

Azriel buried his fingers more forcefully. Eclipse crossed her legs with the intention of pushing Azriel's hand away, feeling the soft wetness between her legs increase.

She thanked every existing entity for the glamour to her emotions that she had put on before entering, and thanked Rhysand for teaching her how to put on and take off glamours months ago, because otherwise the smell of her arousal would be out there, mingling with the air particles.

Azriel looked at her, although she didn't dare to look back at him until his hand slipped between her crossed legs and separated them, resting the back of her thigh against the couch again, guiding her leg to spread further than before. Her heart skipped a beat, and she looked up at him.

There was something shining in those hazel eyes, something primal well hidden. Heavy eyelids as she swore he was devouring her with his gaze. His hand dug deeper, higher, until it was inappropriately close to her center, and he squeezed the tender skin.

Eclipse looked around the entire room again; she really didn't want anyone to see this interaction, especially because she was aware that she was blushing. Azriel seemed to understand, leaning in, his body blocking out hers. His mouth mere inches from her ear, as if about to whisper something. His wing engulfed them, darkening what she saw, giving her only an illusion of privacy that she didn't fall into so easily. But at least it hid the direction of his hand.

A musky smell, carrying Azriel's essence, softly reached her nostrils. The almost imperceptible scent of his arousal. She might have sighed.

His hand continued its path, shamelessly upwards, until the pads of his fingers brushed the skin extremely close to her panties. She heard Cassian's voice in the background, slightly louder.

"Azriel," Eclipse gasped, with a soft warning tone, but Azriel just let out a soft growl.

His fingers touched the damp fabric of her panties, more roughly than he had been fondling her thigh. His fingers pressed onto the wet patch, and Eclipse grabbed his wrist, stopping him instantly.

"All of this for me?" Azriel purred. Eclipse didn't miss the subtle amusement in his voice. His hand stayed still, but his fingers were still pressed, right above her nerve.

"I think you're the same or worse, Azriel," she didn't need to look down at the bulge in his pants to know what was there.

A shadow curled into Azriel’s ear, and he tensed. He immediately pulled away, returning to his previous position, his scarred hand on her knee.

Eclipse looked at him, totally confused, wondering what had caused his attitude to change so abruptly. She sighed through her nose, her gaze wandering around the room again.

Feyre had a little smile tugging at her lips, one she tried to hide ridiculously while looking at her, in particular.

A gentle caress against her mental barriers, ones that were still not very strong but were on their way to, Eclipse reluctantly let Feyre in.

"So close Azriel was just a few seconds ago..." her cousin's voice, amused, curious, and eager for gossip, sounded in her head. Eclipse refrained from rolling her eyes, feeling Azriel's gaze on her.

"I had forgotten how absolutely nosey you are."

A giggle sounded in her mind.

"Cassian has been teasing Morrigan, didn't understand why until I looked where he looked for a second."

Eclipse inevitably cast a glance at Cassian, who was now listening attentively to something Nesta was saying. She looked back at her cousin.

"I think Azriel felt me looking, that's why he moved away."

"You think, Feyre? How do you know?" She sarcastically replied, sweeping Feyre out of her mind, raising her mental barriers again. Feyre just chuckled, Rhys then looked at her, as if he wanted to know where the source of her amusement was coming from.

Eclipse sighed, taking another sip of her almost-empty glass of wine at this point.

At the end of the night, they had decided to go to Rita's. Neither Eclipse nor Azriel had wanted to go, although Mor gave them both a suspicious look, with some tension on her shoulders. She insisted a little more than everyone, a little more on Azriel, to go to that club. Eclipse wanted to ignore it, really wanted to. But she couldn't, especially not when their gazes connected, and Eclipse didn't like what she saw. The glint of jealousy in her eyes appeared and disappeared, barely a millisecond, but she saw it clearly.

She had never particularly liked Morrigan, or at least not since Eclipse started exchanging words with Azriel and she tensed every time they had the slightest interaction.

Eclipse made sure to keep the real, and somewhat venomous, opinion to herself.

Azriel's hand had moved very little from her knee the whole time they were sitting there, although his thumb traced circles. And he gave gentle squeezes every time Eclipse seemed to get lost in her own, hurtful, thoughts.

Eclipse felt a ghostly touch on her calf, she didn't have to look down to know it was one of his shadows. They swirled around her soft skin, and at one point, they seemed to bite her, only gently. Her cheeks took on a pinkish hue as she found herself looking for a way to lean into the contact that wasn't quite a contact. Eclipse had the feeling that the bite was just to see how she would react.

The dark irregularities crept up her skin, slowly, torturously. They crawled, sending shivers all over her skin, climbing and climbing until they caressed the inner part of her thigh. Eclipse had the impulse to close her legs, but Azriel kept a firm grip on her knee, preventing her from closing them together. The shadows explored what they wanted, all the skin they had available, without really reaching what was the desired center of her.

Eclipse found his gaze, fixed on her as if he were studying every reaction, memorizing every small expression with dilated pupils, heavy eyelids.

Eclipse opened her mouth, ready to make a comment, but before any sound could come out of her mouth, the ghostly sensation danced over her panties, swirling in circles above the fabric. Her teeth found home on her own lip, refraining from moving closer. The touch was hesitant, curious. But not enough, Eclipse had an idea of what would be enough.

"Azriel." the plea escaped her lips before she could contain it, before she even wanted to contain it.

"Yes, darling?" his raspy, lust-filled voice filled her ears.

The shadows pressed more firmly against her, pushing the fabric aside. And they roamed all over her wetness, revolving around her clitoris, probing her entrance.

A gasp escaped from her lips, her hips involuntarily moving forward, the shadows retreated, the touch becoming lighter. Eclipse refrained from groaning. Her hand found Azriel’s still resting on her knee and almost desperately pulled it towards her center, but his hand refused to move past the middle of her thigh.

Azriel smirked.

"Needing, darling?"

Eclipse glared at him, he leaned towards her until he was millimeters from her lips.

"Tell me." he told her, ordered her. "Tell me what you want, and it's yours."

The shadows circled tightly against her clitoris, Eclipse let out a shaky breath.

"I want you."

Those words were enough to make him lose his mind. In one moment they were separated by millimeters, and then his mouth was on her. There was nothing gentle in the way Azriel kissed Eclipse, punishing lips against hers. The shadows probing her entrance dove deeply, and Eclipse whimpered.

Azriel took advantage to slip his tongue into Eclipse's mouth, his hand finding its place on her nape as his tongue explored Eclipse's mouth, swallowing every sound she let out while his shadows, teasing, barely satisfied the desire that made her dizzy, that made her unable to form a rational thought. His tongue took control almost instantaneously, perhaps because Eclipse was too excited to reciprocate the kiss in the same way, or maybe because naturally she submitted to him.

Azriel's hands found their place on her hips, and then lower, until he could lift her and sit her astride his lap. His mouth didn't leave Eclipse's, every time their tongues brushed, Eclipse felt as if she was dizzy and the wetness in her pussy increased. As if Azriel felt it, he drew her closer to him until her center was against his hardness. Eclipse moaned. But then, Eclipse felt everything around her disappear. Everything. And she felt herself in freefall, instinctively placing her hands on Azriel's shoulders, holding on. But a second later, reality reappeared around her again.

The smell of him was all around, Eclipse glanced at her surroundings and quickly realized where they were; Azriel's room. He was sitting in the middle of his bed, his back against the headboard, and she was still in his lap. The smell of him was all around, Eclipse glanced at her surroundings and quickly realized where they were; Azriel's room. He was sitting in the middle of his bed, his back against the headboard, and she was still in his lap.

"You didn't expect to stay in the living room, did you?" Azriel teased, one of his hands finding its place on the nape of her neck as he pulled her back to his lips, and the other on her hips, he guided her forward, and then back, the command was clear: rub against me.

Hesitant, Eclipse moved her hips against him, finding herself needing that delicious friction that made her delirious. Eclipse broke the kiss to breathe, but his lips didn't leave her. They kissed the corner of her mouth, the jaw, all the way down to her neck and stopped there, deciding to take his time adorning her neck. Eclipse rubbed against him again, more needy, less hesitant, managing to elicit a growl from him. His teeth sank into her warm skin in response, her eyebrows arched as she murmured his name like a prayer.

He licked the small mark, his tongue soothing the sting. He kissed and sucked and bit a little more, all the way down. Down to her collarbone. He licked the letters tattooed underneath, and if it was possible, she felt herself harden underneath him.

His hand moved up to the straps of her dress, and he looked at her, asking for permission. Eclipse nodded, granting him permission. More than enough permission for him, and he slowly lowered the straps, freeing her breasts and pausing for a moment. Admiring her.

"You are beautiful." he breathed. "The most beautiful thing I've seen in my life."

Sincerity dripped from his voice, and as if he wanted to prove it, he took a hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking on it.

Eclipse rolled her eyes at the heat her nipple was receiving, her back involuntarily arching. Her hand buried itself in his black hair, feeling his teeth graze her sensitive nipple as his fingers caressed the other, giving it the same attention.

"Azriel." she moaned. The need between her legs was almost painful.

Azriel pulled away, releasing her nipple with a small "pop". The same hungry need from her reflected in his eyes. Azriel dragged Eclipse's mouth back down to savor her once again. Kissing her hungrily.

Eclipse felt pressure against her center again, but it wasn't the shadows this time, but Azriel's fingers. They pushed her panties aside and slid between her folds, spreading her wetness. Eclipse let out a moan against Azriel's lips as the pad of his finger rubbed tight circles on her clitoris, needed after all the teasing of his shadows. Azriel smiled into the kiss, his tongue delving into Eclipse's mouth once more.

Azriel used his other hand, his grip on her hip, to keep her from moving for greater friction.

His fingers traced her entrance, and he inserted two fingers, the gentle touch of before forgotten in a corner of his mind, after craving this all night. Eclipse let out a small tortured sound, the stretch producing a slight sting, and Azriel noticed how incredibly tight she was. He couldn't help the slight furrow in his brow, not when the evidence of the slight pain was as clear on her features as water.

"Eclipse." he called, her eyes fixed on him once more. "When was the last time you did this?"

The question caught her off guard, Eclipse blinked.

When was the last time she had had sex? The answer quickly reached her. Years. It had been years since she had touched anyone in this way, and she hadn't wanted to either.

As if anyone could blame her, with everything she had experienced to get to this point.

Eclipse didn't open her mouth, but she was sure that Azriel could see the clear answer in her eyes. He didn't hesitate, he brushed some strands away from Eclipse's face, his hand cradling her cheek and kissed her again.

He swiftly maneuvered to sit Eclipse on the edge of the bed and position himself in front of her on his knees. Eclipse looked at him with curiosity, expectantly. He just smiled at her, his mouth attacked her neck again and made his way down, leaving marks along the way. Marks that would last until tomorrow.

His scarred hands found the back of her knees and pushed her forward. He didn't bother with foreplay.

He lifted the fabric of her dress until it ended up bunched up around her waist, and took the edge of her black panties and removed them, throwing them somewhere in her room that he really didn’t care about.

He pressed his swollen lips against Eclipse's inner thigh and listened to her pant, taking a slow, torturous path upwards. And just before reaching her needy, soaked sex, his lips found the skin of her other thigh.

"Azriel." Eclipse whimpered, a complaint. His teeth sank softly into the skin in response.

"Patience." was all he said as he pressed kiss after kiss, each one closer to where she needed it most, each slower. He stopped for a second to observe her, his cock throbbing painfully against his pants as he saw her. He raised his gaze to find Eclipse's flushed face looking at him, her lipstick ruined, probably he had the remnants of the red tint on his own lips as well, but he couldn't care less. He just lowered his gaze back to her wet pussy, begging for his attention, and licked his lips before placing each of her thighs over his shoulders and burying himself deeply between her legs. Devouring her as if she were the elixir of life.

His tongue licked between her folds, from her entrance to the apex and back down until his tongue was soaked from her essence and went back up, easily finding her clit and using the tip of his tongue to draw tight circles, her taste intoxicating him, making him eager for more. He sucked the nerve a second later and Eclipse trembled under his expert mouth. His hand rested on her lower abdomen, keeping her in place as his tongue played over her clit. Eclipse let out a moan from the depths of her chest. Her head thrown back, sensations engulfing her, ravishing her.

His tongue felt so, so good against her that her moans were almost whimpers as he devoured her, like a hungry man. She didn't know how much, how much, she had longed for this until she had it. And there wasn’t a part of her that he hadn't licked, nibbled, or sucked. The tension in her lower stomach became more prominent, the knot tighter, her hips moved involuntarily against his face, his hand pushing her down, the grip firm.

"Azriel." she breathed, her face contorted by pleasure as she felt her legs tremble. Barely able to process a rational thought, unable to contain the sounds that came out of her mouth again and again.

Azriel inserted a finger, slowly this time. Her soft walls welcomed it eagerly, urging him to go deeper. He pumped gently and when he was sure she could handle it, he inserted another finger. The rough touch from his scarred hands made her roll her eyes.

Eclipse felt a ghostly touch on her breasts, then circling her nipples. She let out another whimper, feeling like everything was too much and nothing at the same time.

His name came out of her lips frantically, the tension building barely bearable.

"Are you going to come on my face, sweetheart?" Azriel murmured, sending vibrations through her core. He only heard a moan, or a whimper, in response. He caught her nerve between his teeth, a gentle pressure.

"Words, dear. Use your words."

"Y-yes." Eclipse breathed, Azriel curled the fingers he had inside of her, looking for that sweet spot that would make her see stars. Azriel knew he had found it when another moan, one that made his cock ache with how hard it was, came from her lips.

"Then do it, come for me."

His lips found the sensitive bud and sucked it, hard.

Eclipse felt the knot in her stomach tighten until she couldn't take it anymore, her eyes filled with tears as she came, the climax hitting her faster than she would have believed possible. Her legs trembling, waves and waves of pleasure breaking her into a thousand pieces and making her whole again as Azriel continued working on her tender center, more gently, to carry her through her orgasm but not overstimulate her.

A thin layer of sweat rested on Eclipse's skin.

The sounds she let out were the most exciting thing he had ever heard in his life, music to his ears.

"Do you think you can handle another finger, darling?"his hesitant voice filled her ears when she had calmed down, come down from her height. She hummed an affirmation, her breath irregular.

Azriel knew he would need a third finger inside her if he even hoped she could handle it entirely. Although the primitive need to taste her was much greater, the need to bury his tongue deep into her and taste everything she had to give him, he vowed to himself that he would. At another time, he would devote himself to testing her limits, to taste the essence of her climax. But for now, he simply added another finger.

Eclipse felt so full and sensitive, her internal walls inevitably tightened against the three fingers, which expertly curved against that spot.

Azriel ran his tongue gently over the swollen bud, reminding himself that she had just come, stopping himself from being rough against her sensitive clit.

Eclipse whimpered, Azriel's fingers entering and exiting, and the shadows curved over her nipples. Biting gently.

"Azriel." Eclipse begged, composing herself on her elbows. The sight of him, kneeling in front of her, with his mouth working on her pussy, was enough to send her to the edge again.

The only thought in her mind, as her entire world fell apart around her and there was only the devastating pleasure that ruined and repaired her at the same time, was that a long, very long night awaited her.

And perhaps, just perhaps, she wouldn't hate solstices so much from now on.

[alyslittlehaven]

'Of Shadows And Moonlight'

Azriel x Moonlight Weaver!Oc (AKA Ezme.)

ACT I. 'Wind and Firelight.'

Prologue.

After a long night of going over reports, and making sure all of his spies are right where they need to be. Azriel is summoned to his high lord's study with a special diplomatic mission. To go to the Haven and talk the Lady of Moonlight into an alliance.

Azriel stepped out of his room, the heavy wooden door closing with a soft thud behind him. His brother's voice still echoed in his mind, a mix of authority and urgency. The dimly lit hallway stretched out before him, shadows flickering along the stone walls as torches burned low.

His fingers brushed the hilt of his dagger, a habitual gesture that brought him a measure of comfort. The thought of the meeting ahead made his jaw clench. What could Rhysand possibly want now? He had just spent hours sifting through endless reports, each one more monotonous than the last.

As he walked, his boots barely made a sound on the polished marble floors. The cold air of the castle prickled his skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of his quarters. He passed by the grand tapestry depicting the Night Court's history, its intricate details almost lost in the dim light.

The scent of lavender from the nearby garden wafted through an open window, a brief respite from the tension coiling in his chest. Azriel took a deep breath, his shadows whispering around him in a restless dance.

He descended a flight of stairs, the stone steps worn smooth by centuries of use. A couple of guards nodded respectfully as he passed, their presence a silent reminder of the constant vigilance required in their world.

Turning a corner, Azriel found himself in front of the double doors leading to Rhysand's study. He paused for a moment, letting his fingers rest on the cool wood. The muffled sounds of conversation seeped through the heavy doors, a sign that the others had already gathered.

With a final, steadying breath, Azriel pushed the doors open and stepped inside, ready to face whatever awaited him.

The air in the study was thick with tension, a palpable anticipation that seemed to hang in the flickering candlelight. Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, stood behind his massive ebony desk, his violet eyes sweeping over the assembled members of his inner circle. His cousin Mor lounged in a chair, feigning nonchalance but with a keen edge to her gaze. Cassian, the hulking warrior, stood by the window, arms crossed, his presence like a coiled spring. Feyre, Rhysand's wife, leaned against the mantelpiece, her fingers tracing patterns in the dust. And in the shadowed corner, barely more than a silhouette, stood Azriel.

Azriel's dragon-like wings were folded tightly against his back, his shadows whispering around him in a constant, restless dance. He was quiet as always, the weight of his duties evident in the hard set of his jaw and the dark circles beneath his eyes. Yet, even as the spymaster of the Night Court, there was a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze tonight.

Rhysand's voice broke the silence, low and authoritative. "We have a new mission," he began, his tone brooking no argument. "A delicate matter that requires a very specific touch."

Mor raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "Delicate, you say? And who exactly is this mission for?"

Rhysand's gaze shifted to Azriel, the intensity of his stare a silent command. "Azriel," he said, his voice softer now but no less firm. "You are to meet with the Lady of Moonlight."

A murmur of surprise rippled through the room. Cassian's eyes narrowed, and Feyre's lips parted in a silent question. But it was Azriel who spoke, his voice a low, measured rumble. "The Lady of Moonlight? Ezme?"

Rhysand nodded. "Yes. She possesses abilities that could be invaluable to us. But she is… particular about whom she associates with. I believe you, Azriel, might be the only one she will take interest in."

Azriel's shadows seemed to grow darker, more agitated, as he considered the High Lord's words. Ezme. The name alone conjured images of silvery moonlight and haunting beauty. He had heard of her, of course—everyone had. A fae woman of remarkable power, able to turn moonlight into sentient wisps, guiding them with a will of their own. Mysterious, elusive, and reputedly unapproachable.

"Why me?" Azriel asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Rhysand's smile was enigmatic. "Because, Azriel, you understand the duties that are placed upon someone with status…and she won't speak to anyone that doesn't intrigue her"

The room fell silent once more, each member of the inner circle lost in their thoughts. Azriel felt the weight of their gazes, the unspoken expectations. He was the spymaster, the unseen blade of the Night Court. But this mission felt different, charged with a personal edge he had not anticipated.

As Rhysand laid out the details of the mission, Azriel's thoughts drifted to Ezme. The Lady of Moonlight. He wondered what she was like, this enigmatic fae who commanded the night with such grace. And as the candles burned low, casting long shadows across the room, he felt a strange sense of destiny intertwining with duty, binding him to a path that was as mysterious and uncertain as the moonlit night itself.

Cassian watched the door close behind Rhysand and Feyre, the soft click echoing in the now quiet room. He turned to Azriel, the smug look replaced by genuine concern.

"Are you really okay with this?" Cassian asked, his voice lower, more serious. "I know you're tired."

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair, scattering the remaining donut powder. "It's not like I have a choice. Rhys needs this done, and I’m the best person for the job."

Cassian nodded, his expression softening. "Just be careful. The Lady of Moonlight… she has a reputation for being unpredictable."

"I'll manage," Azriel replied, though he couldn't shake the unease settling in his gut. He had faced countless dangers, but something about this mission felt different, more personal.

Cassian clapped a hand on his shoulder, a reassuring weight. "If anyone can handle it, it's you. Just remember, we're here if you need us."

Azriel managed a small, appreciative smile. "Thanks, Cass."

With that, Cassian left the room, leaving Azriel alone with his thoughts. He took a moment to gather himself, then turned and headed to his quarters to prepare for the journey ahead. As he walked through the quiet halls, his mind drifted to the Lady of Moonlight. What kind of person was she? Would she be as difficult to deal with as Rhysand feared?

He stepped into his room, the familiar surroundings doing little to ease his mind. His shadows swirled around him, restless and agitated, mirroring his own feelings. Azriel packed a small bag, ensuring he had everything he might need for the weekend mission.

As he finished, he paused by the window, looking out at the night sky. The moon hung high, casting a silver glow over the city. He wondered if the Lady of Moonlight was looking at the same moon, perhaps sensing his impending arrival.

Azriel took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead. He had faced many challenges before, but this one felt different. More than ever, he needed to be at his best, not just for Rhysand, but for the Night Court.

With a final glance around his room, Azriel closed his bag and headed for the door. It was time to face whatever awaited him in the Haven.

[azrielwingspan]

MASTERLIST

Bear with me, I have random bouts of inspiration that are VERY irregular.

AZRIEL (ACOTAR)

Azriel x Reader

Vallahan Diaries

'Someone' (Part 1 / Part 2)

Stolen Kisses

'High' Praise

A 'Tea' Party

Shattered

The Choices We Make (Part 1 / Part 2)

A Tactical Ploy - COMING SOON !

The Strings Of Fate- SERIES (Prologue)

Azriel x OC (Nyra)

Distractions (Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3)

As Fate Commands

BUCKY BARNES

Mob!Bucky x Reader

Let it Burn (Part 1)

Red Serpent (Ch.1 / Ch.2)

THEODORE NOTT

Theo x Reader

Soon

[littlest-w01f]

Chapter Six

Series Masterlist

CW: None

The sun had barely reached the head as a little chestnut-coloured bunny hopped in the forest, humming with magic, nose twitching, she hopped through the dewy grass, her small paws making gentle thuds against the earth. her ears twitched at every sound, each rustle of leaves or chirp of birds sending her into a frenzy of alertness. The morning air was cool but not unpleasant, filled with the fresh scent of new life.

The bunny continued her journey, hopping over fallen branches and dodging around bushes. It made its way towards a clearing in the dense foliage, a place where sunlight could filter down and warm the earth below.

The bunny found herself in a beautiful clearing in the middle of the woods. It was a sight to behold, the sun's rays danced upon the dew-covered blades of grass, casting dazzling prisms of light all around.

As the bunny entered this idyllic spot, she noticed something that caught her attention, a small cluster of ripe berries hanging low on a nearby bush. Her nose led her straight towards them and soon enough, she was feasting on the sweet treats.

With her tiny paws grasping onto the juicy fruits, the bunny savoured each one. They were very sweet, their flavour seemed to burst in her mouth like fireworks. She couldn't get enough of them.

While the bunny munched away happily on the juicy berries, her ears perked up suddenly at a distant rustling sound. The source of the noise seemed to be coming from behind some thick shrubbery just off to one side of the clearing, the scent of magic in the air.

Curiosity piqued, she hopped over there quickly to investigate further. As she rounded the corner, her eyes widened in surprise when they landed on something unexpected.

Evelyn froze, looking at the lean male, ears pointed skywards, handsome beyond belief, sharp cruel features, his deep violet eyes setting on her bunny form. Ah, shit She cursed to herself, forcing her mental shields up, she hoped he wouldn't recognise her if she kept pretending to actually be a bunny.

"Oh, It's just a little bunny..." Rhysand's eyes softened, a look Evelyn had never seen on him, he crouched down, "Don't be scared of me, dear bunny."

His voice was so soothing, yet she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. She remained frozen in place, unsure of what to do next.

Rhysand reached out a hand slowly, his fingers extending towards the bunny as if offering comfort. "It's okay, little one," he cooed softly. "I won't hurt you. I promise."

Act like a bunny! She reprimanded herself as she twitched from Rhysand's gentle pets, sighing and purring from him stroking her fur

Rhysand chuckled softly at the bunny's reaction, finding it incredibly adorable. He gently scratched under her chin, causing her to tilt her head back slightly with pleasure.

"You're so adorable," Rhysand murmured, his voice low and soothing. "I've never seen a bunny quite like you before." His gaze drifted over her petite frame, taking in every detail, from the tip of her twitching nose to the fluffy tuft of tail poking from her back.

Rhysand suddenly picked her up to his chest, petting her, his eyes landed on some eaten berries, some of them fallen on the ground while others were still attached to the stems, "Were you having lunch, little bunny?"

Evelyn felt a shiver run down her spine as Rhysand held her close. The warmth radiating off his body was comforting yet terrifying, especially considering their situation. And while part of her wanted to pull away and maintain some distance between them, her nose twitched as she dragged it across his palm in the form of a nod, careful to not speak, she was a simple bunny, just a normal bunny.

Rhysand gave a soft chuckle at the bunny's response, finding it utterly charming. He gently placed her back onto the ground, standing upright once more himself.

"I hope I didn't scare you too much," he said with a smile. "It's not often that I get to see such innocent creatures up close, at least not lately."

With that, he took a step back, giving the bunny ample space again. His violet eyes stayed locked on hers though, keenly watching for any sign of fear or aggression.

He made a kiwi appear from his magic, "Do you like kiwis bunny?" The fruit floating in his palm, peeling it from his magic.

Rhysand presented the fruit carefully to the bunny, holding it out just within reach of her curious nose. "Go ahead, take it if you'd like," he encouraged softly. "They're really good for you."

He stood there patiently waiting for the bunny's reaction, whether she would accept the fruit or simply ignore it altogether. Evelyn looked up at him, she had to make the right choice, and nothing about him told her he knew who she was, so she stood on her hind legs, her front paws on his palm as she sniffed at the kiwi, nibbling gently.

Rhysand watched with fascination as the bunny inspected his gift. There was something undeniably captivating about how she used her tiny hands and elongated snout to explore this new food item. He was also rather taken aback by how trusting she appeared despite being confronted with an entirely foreign situation.

"Well done!" Rhys whispered sincerely, grinning down at her adorable form now munching contentedly on the fresh produce.

There was a sudden rustle in the bushes a little far off, and when Rhysand turned to inspect it, Evelyn made a run for it, her chin and whiskers covered in the juices of the fruit.

Rhysand glanced over his shoulder at the rustling sound, then back towards the retreating form of the bunny. He couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. His features went dark again, "Well, aren't you quick, flower?" he commented lightly. "I'll be seeing you again soon, my Evie."

The sun was setting over the horizon as Evelyn made her way back to the Spring Manor on Rose from the boarders on the campsite, she had gone around the woods to check for any creature trespassing into their territory, she hadn't expected to see Rhysand, the male brought a chill to even think about.

The ink on her ring finger became itchy, a constant reminder of the bargain she had been forced to make before she even knew what it was, what she had been made to promise away by her father.

She made her way to the stables and handed Rose to a stablehand, then walked the halls to reach her room, needing a quick change of clothes. After a few moments, she made her way to the dining table they had started using again when Feyre came to live with them.

Tamlin sat at the head, a smile forming on his face when he saw his sister, he got up, making his way to her, cupping her cheeks and looking her over for any scars, "Eve, you're home. I was worried sick."

"I can take care of myself, Tam." Evelyn smiled, moving to take her seat on the table with food set up. "Are Lucien and Feyre back yet?"

That seemed like the wrong thing to say, since Tamlin grew cold, "No. They left together, and haven't returned yet." His claws grew from his hand and Evelyn was quick to put her hand over his.

"Gentle, gentle." Evelyn sighed softly, stroking his hand, his claws retracting, "I need to tell about who I saw... I can't already have you ready to lash out."

"Who?" Tamlin asked, his voice soft again, "What is sneaking past our defences."

Evelyn hesitated for a moment, "Him..." She said, unable to speak his name, staring at her hand.

But Tamlin knew, his eyes flashing with nothing but rage, "Rhysand is sneaking past our defences? What was he doing at the border?"

"I have no idea... I wasn't fae when I saw him, but I think it'll be stupid of us to assume he thought I was a normal bunny." Evelyn was sure to leave the bit where he'd pet her, held her so gently before he fed her, "But he just winnowed in Spring."

"I'll have to rebuild the wards stronger," He sighed, trying not to let his anger show, "I don't have enough power for it. Not nearly enough."

Evelyn saddened, he had been so strong before, nearly matching Rhysand, keeping her safe from the male she was promised to, but now he was less than half the High Lord he used to be, "No wards will be strong enough to keep him out completely, I managed to reach the camps to put a glamour on them again."

It wasn't supposed to be an easy task, to see what had slipped past their defences, but she'd never expected it to be Rhysand of all people, someone who could now easily stroll into her court without anyone knowing.

As they talked, Lucien and Feyre entered together, both their gaze set on them, looking expectantly as Lucien put some distance between Feyre and himself.

"We went on a hunt," Lucien provided.

"I heard." Tamlin simply said, then he turned to Feyre, he knew Evelyn's eyes were focused on him, gentle, her words echoed in his head, "Did you have fun?"

"Sort of..." Feyre said after a long beat of silence.

Evelyn sat, cringing a little at the awkward atmosphere, "Did you catch anything?" She asked, sparing both Tamlin and Feyre.

"No." Lucien said with a cough, matching Evelyn in the cringe at the awkwardness as Feyre and Tamlin just stared at each other. He turned to Tamlin, "Tam..." Evelyn sat up when Lucien's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, "A Bogge was in the forest today."

Tamlin's head snapped from Feyre to Lucien, "You ran into it?"

Evelyn's blood chilled, her own memory of the Bogge wasn't a pretty one, "Where is this one?"

When Lucien had told Tamlin, he got up instantly, his power bending the gold fork, fangs lengthening as he made his way out without a word and only a glance at Feyre.

"Where's he going?" Feyre asked, looking back at Lucien and Evelyn, who had lost their appetite.

"To hunt the Bogge," Lucien simply said.

Evelyn was peacefully asleep, curled up in the pillows and blankets, finding peace in her dreams wasn't something she found easily, but when she did, she cherished it.

Nothing bad happened in her subconscious when he was around, her mate.

In her dream, Evelyn found herself in a lush, vibrant forest. The air was warm and fragrant with the scent of blooming flowers. Birds sang sweet melodies in the treetops above, creating a tranquil atmosphere.

As she wandered deeper into the woods, a figure emerged from the shadows. It was her mate, looking as mysterious as ever. He approached her slowly, just like always, his features hidden by darkness.

Without a word, he reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch sent shivers down her spine, and she found herself leaning into his caress. Suddenly, he leaned in closer, hovering mere inches from her.

"I missed you," Evelyn breathed, "It's been so long." It had been weeks since she last dreamt of her mate, and she did miss the comfort his presence in his dreams brought her

A soft smile played upon his lips as he heard those words escape from Evelyn's mouth. "And I have missed you, my flower," he whispered back, his breath ghosting against her skin.

His hand slid down to cup her cheek tenderly. Then, without warning, he pulled her into a passionate kiss a kiss that spoke volumes about all the longing and desire they both had been feeling.

Evelyn melted into the embrace, losing herself completely in the sensation of his lips moving against hers. She could feel his lips on her fully, even if she hadn't been able to see them because of his darkness, his lips were soft, just as much as hers.

He broke the kiss only after several long moments, panting slightly as she gazed up at him, Evelyn's flushed face. His fingers traced along the curve of her jawline, drawing small circles on her sensitive skin.

"I can't wait until we're together in reality," He confessed quietly, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone. "This isn't enough anymore… I want you, Evelyn." His grip tightened just slightly on her chin, pulling her closer still.

"I want you too, my mate," Evelyn breathed, leaning up, wanting another kiss, but she couldn't make his mouth out, so she simply pressed her face in his chest, breathing him in deep.

Evelyn's mate chuckled lowly at her actions, his arm curling around her slender waist to draw her flush against his body. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply.

"Promise me we'll be together soon," She murmured against his skin. "Promise me you won't forget about me, no matter what happens…" Her voice trailed off into a whisper as she nipped at the sensitive skin beneath her lips.

"I promise, Evelyn," he vowed, his voice rumbling against her ear. "No matter what trials lie ahead, I will never forget about you. You are forever etched in my mind and heart."

He captured her lips once more in a searing kiss, pouring all his devotion and longing into it. As they lost themselves in each other's embrace, the boundaries between dream and reality began to blur.

Evelyn woke from her dream at noises from her garden, with a groan she left the comfort of her bed, and looking out the window she blinked the sleep of the peaceful dream from her eyes.

Her sleep left her as she saw Tamlin standing with Feyre in the fields, his grip on her tight, and a puca at the gates of their estates. She relaxed slightly as the puka disappeared, probably scared in the presence of the High Lord.

She sighed watching them, she could sense that they were arguing, heard it a little, "Just fall in love already..." She breathed, the only way to break the horrid curse that had their power cut in half.

After a while she planted herself on the bed again, thinking of dreams of her mate, but that wasn't what followed her into her slumber.

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}

{Blooming Flowers Taglist- @theskyisbrighthere @mybestfriendmademe @yeonalie}

[munsons-hellfire]

My Love Will Never Die: Chapter 1

SUMMARY: Circe is reunited with her cousin, though it doesn't seem to go the way that she thought it would.

PAIRINGS: Azriel x Circe Archeron x Eris Vanserra

CONTENT WARNING: SFW, abandonment issues, toxic family.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here is chapter 1, I can't wait to dive deeper into this book and share the plans I have for this story. I hope you enjoy this chapter and if you wished to be tagged let me know in the comments.

WORD COUNT: 2.0K

Circe Archeron, Prologue

It had been months since Feyre had left. She came back for a short time only to disappear again. I kept to myself, Nesta had made it perfectly clear that she didn’t much care for me. I guess I was okay with that. But it had been a difficult time for me after Feyre left. Everything had changed, I had become quick to anger and that’s why I stayed in my room most of the time.

Nesta and Elain couldn’t even get me out of my room, unless Nesta dragged me out; which wasn’t often. They’d have servants bring food to my room, but for the most part I was nibbling on the food. Not enough to keep me looking healthy. Currently I lied in my bed, the curtains were closed and I was hugging the pillow. It was difficult sometimes to lay on my back, though I still didn’t understand why.

Someone knocked on my door, I wanted to ignore it but I couldn’t. If it were Nesta she’d get angry with me and storm in here and pull me from my bed. So I stood up, then I walked over to the door and looked to see Mrs. Laurent standing at the door. There was a pleasant smile on her face as she stared at me.

“How can I help you Mrs. Laurent?” I asked, leaning my head against the door.

“Your sister has requested that you get dressed and go to the drawing room.” Mrs. Laurent answered.

I didn’t want to fight whatever Nesta wanted me to do so I gave her a nod of my head and closed the door. I walked over to my closet and grabbed an outfit. I only wore pants and shirts whenever I’d go outside. If I was being requested to the drawing room it likely meant that someone was here which meant I had to dress nice.

I opted for a dark blue dress that had an amber coloring etched into it. I don’t know why but this was always my favorite dress to wear whenever people would come over. I had these colors on a lot of my outfits but they were always so different. The dress reached just below my knees and came with long frayed sleeves.

I wasn’t much for heels so I was allowed a pair of boats that actually matched with the dress I currently had on. Once I was dressed, I pulled my hair to the side and began to braid it until I reached the end of my dirty-blond hair. Now that I was finished I walked out of my room heading to the drawing room as requested. However when I came to a stop at the entrance I swear everything stopped.

She looked so different from what I remembered. Taller than I remember her to be, and she had pointed ears. She was a Fae now. Is that why she hadn’t come back to visit us, to visit me? I stepped forward and caught my cousin's attention.

“Feyre?” I asked, my voice shaky as well as my hands.

“Circe?” Her voice was just as shaky, she stared at me taking in the sight of what I truly look like, which wasn’t great. I didn’t care at the moment, I walked over to her and pulled her into a tight hug. I didn’t want to let her go now that she was here. Nesta pulled me back from Feyre, though my cousins didn’t miss the way I pulled my arm away from Nesta’s touch. I was sure Feyre would ask me about it when it was just the two of us.

So much had changed since she left again, I needed to know what had happened to her. Why was she even here? Was she coming back home to stay with us? Had that Fae finally decided to let her come back home to us? So many questions I wanted to ask her, but instead I sat down next to Elain. Waiting for someone to talk, hopefully it would be Feyre and she’d answer everything.

“Where is Father?” It was the first thing she said since we’d all sat down. I wasn’t the least bit surprised she wanted to know of his absences.

“In Neva,” Nesta answered. He’d been gone for a while now and I honestly wasn’t sure when he’d returned. Not that I really cared anyway. “Trading with some merchants from the other half of the world. And attending a summit about the threat above the wall. A threat I wonder if you’ve come back to warn us about.”

At this I glanced over at Nesta, why hadn’t she told me about this? I had just as much a right to know as Elain did. I couldn’t shake the hurt I was feeling as I stared at my eldest cousin. I wanted to leave this room now. If Nesta thought I didn’t need to know than maybe it was best I leave to let them talk. That feeling I’d been trying to avoid for so long came back and I felt myself fighting to hold back whatever tears wanted to fall down my face.

I hated being treated like the black sheep of the family now that Feyre wasn’t here. Though I suppose it had always been that way considering my parents didn’t love me enough to raise me themselves. Instead they sent me to live with my aunt and uncle and look where it got me. Alone.

“Whatever the reason, Feyre, we are happy to see you. Alive. We thought you were—” A glimmer of panic ran through my body. Feyre pulled back her hood. I wasn’t so much afraid of the fact that she was now Fae. It was the fact that it meant she’d actually died.

“I was dead.” Feyre said roughly. “I was dead, and then I was reborn—remade.”

“How did it happen?” I asked, I needed to know. Was she alone, or were there others with her.

“That’s a story for another day, Circe. I need you to listen.” I listened to her as she explained what was happening. The panic I felt in my body was speeding through it. Suddenly I felt the need to go outside and climb into a tree. I couldn’t do this anymore.

“Excuse me.” I whispered, standing up I shifted my shoulders and walked out of the room.

“Circe.” Feyre called out.

“Let her go, this is too much for her and the exact reason I didn’t want her in here in the first place. She’s fragile right now.” Nesta said sternly.

Fragile. Of course I was fragile. I had lost the one person who meant more to me than the others. Feyre was the only one who truly understood where I was coming from when I tried to express myself. Nesta didn’t understand my need to be out in the wilderness when I wasn’t in my room. It was my safe place, my escape. It allowed me to feel close to things I didn’t understand.

When I made it outside I walked past the front door and towards the woods. Finding my favorite tree I began to climb it. I climbed and climbed until I was finally a far enough distance from the ground I could have peace and quiet. I could finally think. But it didn’t last long. Not when I heard the rustling of tree leaves.

“What do you want?” I asked, thinking it was Feyre. But when I looked up I came face to face with hazel eyes, and shadows. I knew all too well why they looked so familiar. I stood up and walked towards the Fae that was staring at me, not speaking. “I’m Circe.” I said, holding my hand out to him.

He was just staring at me, I didn’t seem to find it weird. It felt comforting to have his gaze on me. I didn’t know where to take the conversation though. And it was clear that he wasn’t comfortable shaking my hand so I dropped it back at my side. I felt something touch my back, and suddenly panic rose in my body again. It was cool to the touch as it moved around my body. And I realized that it was shadows.

A smile fell onto my lips, then there were more surrounding me. Some tickled my skin. I couldn’t stop the laugh that left my lips as they continued to glide around my skin. I did notice that the Fae in front of me was stiff as a board. I also noticed that the shadows stayed away from my back. I held my hand out again and one of the shadows swarmed around my fingers.

“You’re not afraid of them?” His voice was so soft and rough at the same time as he finally spoke to me. I placed my eyes on him, a curious look falling onto my face.

“Why would I be? They’re so beautiful.” It was clear that each word that left my lips was more of a shock to him than it was to me. Another shadow wrapped around my arm, tickling me in the process. It caused another laugh from me. But then I couldn’t stop laughing. Happiness. It was the only thing I felt in my entire being as this Fae stood in front of me with shadows swarming my body.

“Not everyone is like you.” He whispered. At this I lowered my hand and stared at him.

“You’re right, they’re not. But I assure you that they don’t scare me.”

“That’s a first.” Another voice called out. I pulled my eyes away to look down, seeing two other males not far from us. I took the opportunity to walk away from the Fae with shadows and climbed back down the tree.

“You should be careful.” I looked up at him, a shadow still swarming around my body.

“I’ll be fine.” I jumped down, landing on my feet. Then I held my hand out to the two as the other joined. “Circe. Feyre’s cousin.” I said, shining my brightest smile.

“Cassian.” The one with shoulder length hair said, shaking my hand.

“Rhysand.” The other said, I shook his hand. Then he looked over at the one I’d been talking to. “This is Azriel.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” I looked at Azriel, and then Cassian. They both had the same set of wings. They were beautiful, and suddenly I wanted to know everything about their wings. I shifted my shoulders slightly at the weight on my back, the invisible weight. Then I moved towards them inspecting their wings.

“These are Illyrian wings.” Rhysand said. His violet eyes were on me, like he was studying me. Though Cassian and Azriel were doing the same thing as well. That sounded familiar, so familiar. I remember my mother and father had talked about the fae alot, Ilyrian’s in particular.

“I’ve heard of them.” I said, staring back at Rhysand. I could see the confusion on all their faces as the three stared at me. “My parents used to talk about the fae before they abandoned me. More specifically they talked about Illyrians, I never understood why they’d talked about them so much, we were humans after all.”

“What were your parents' names?”

“Lily and Beau Archeron.” I hadn’t shared their names in so long that it hurt to say them outloud for the first time. I watched the three exchange glances with each other. “Do you know those names?”

“Just from what Feyre has told us.”

“Oh.” I nodded my head. Then I shifted my shoulders and started to walk back towards the house. They were following behind me. The door opened and I looked to see Feyre standing at the front door.

“I see you’ve meant my cousin.” She wasn’t speaking to me. It also seemed that she had an annoyed look on her face. So I lowered my head, trying to ignore the heartbreak I was feeling on the inside.

“I’ll see you inside Feyre.” I excused myself, lifting my arms up to cover my body. Then I moved past her and walked into the house heading for my room until dinner was ready. Not that they’d want me there anyway. Once I was in my room I closed the door and slid down it. I adjusted my shoulders again, then rested my head back against the door. This was going to be a long night, I knew it.

[sadiegirl2021]

A SPREADSHEET OF ACOTAR FANFIC SUGGESTIONS TO GET YOU THROUGH THE CC3 BOOK HANGOVER

Reblogging this post! I haven't updated it in a while but I will next week.

Thank you to all these authors for providing HOURS of entertainment. If I'm missing your fic, let me know so I can add it to my TBR tab. Feel free to copy and steal it to track your own.

The ones with *** are my Roman empire.

Please check tags/TW on these fics before reading

[thatasnow]

The Call of the Stars - I

Summary: Isabella, or Izzy, has her life turned upside down when, within days, an unexpected visitor summons her to return to her true home, Prythian. As long-buried secrets emerge and reality distorts around her, Izzy finds herself forced to confront a forgotten past and a destiny she never imagined. With the weight of a shocking revelation and a new journey unfolding, she must discover what it truly means to “go home” and what is at stake for her and the world she has been forced to leave behind.

Pairing: Azriel x OC (Eventually)

The rights to the ACOTAR universe and characters go to the author, Sarah J. Maas.

I - The Return to the Unexpected

The dorm door closed behind me with a soft click, but the sound echoed in my mind like distant thunder. I could still feel the warmth of my mother’s embrace, the soft caresses in my hair, but none of it could dispel the whirlwind of questions screaming inside me. How could she be there, untouched by time, while the world continued to spin outside? My hands shook slightly as I leaned on the table beside my bed. Prythian. The name echoed in my head, an ancient whisper I had never heard before, but now felt like it was a part of me. What else was she not telling me? And why did I feel, deep down, that everything was about to change? I needed to get back to her. There were so many unanswered questions, so many untold stories, and time was against me.

...

It was no secret that one of the Night Court’s great triumphs in the stratagem of all Prythian politics was its shadowsinger, Azriel. His shadows, companions even in his centuries-long solitude, brought information from every court on the continent, which, coupled with the reinforced protective shields of his court, made it very well protected. There was nothing that entered or left his lands that was not known. Or was there? “Are you sure about that?” Rhys’s muffled sigh echoed throughout his imposing office. This was becoming a recurring theme. Now, almost every night, the shadows seemed to stir around Azriel, always returning with the same message: “Visitor… visitor… border… visitor at the border.” It was becoming unnerving, and the shadowsinger was increasingly appearing with dark circles under his eyes. Every night he made sure to check the information, at the very least worrying, from his shadows, but nothing — or rather, no one — was found in the kilometers traveled. Azriel rarely disregarded the warnings of his shadows, but in this case, he very much wished he could believe that they were just a bad joke. After all, they were shadows, as lonely as the bearer who lived with them; perhaps they did not understand the real meaning of a joke. But Azriel could not shake the feeling that something big was about to happen — something that not even the incredible shadow singer of the Night Court could foresee, something that, even if he denied it, messed with his ego. "I will check, then," the High Lord of the Night Court said, rising from his large chair and resting his hands on the table, his violet gaze as tired as his brother's. “No,” Azriel protested immediately, spreading his wings slightly as he uncrossed his muscular arms and stood in front of him, preventing Rhys from leaving the office without confronting him first. “You go back to bed, and I will,” he added determinedly.

Even though he was tired, he seemed willing to fight to stop his friend and brother of consideration. "My shadows are my problems, I'll deal with them. Rest," he said finally, casting a disappointed glance at the shadows, who stirred at the act, looking offended. "You're as exhausted as Feyre and I were in the first few days with Nix," Rhysand commented, rubbing his eyes to stay awake. "I'm the one who should tell you to go rest. You look terrible, brother." With a wry smile, Rhys looked back at Az, who snorted at the weak attempt to ease the tension. "At least Nix is ​​a cute little baby… I don't think we can say the same about our mysterious visitor," Azriel pointed out, moving out of Rhys's way to sit in the chair large enough to fit his Illyrian wings effortlessly. " “We don’t know if that’s true, don’t forget that,” Rhys joked, walking past Az and patting the spy on the shoulder encouragingly. “If you insist so much, let’s go together, then.” Before Azriel could argue with his High Lord, he had already sifted to the west of his border, the less guarded part and therefore more likely to harbor possible unidentified foreigners who preferred to keep a low profile.

...

It might even be crazy, but I couldn't help but get this story straight. There was no way it could be true. The more rational part of my brain had already dismissed that night when I saw my mother as an extremely vivid and emotional dream. It had been so long since I had seen her, and the memories of her reading fantasy stories must have been integrated into my dreams. There was no other plausible explanation. But a smaller part of me insisted on questioning: could that have been real? It seemed so fragile, that moment, so abstract, but also so real… This was all driving me crazy. That's why I'm marching to the boarding school secretary now. Maybe I can throw a bait to find out if my mother really came to see me yesterday or if I'm just being neurotic in this place. My eyes calmly move from the polished wooden floor, which reflects the artificial light of the ceiling lamps, to the rest of the incredibly dull hallway. The blank white walls seem to absorb the little light, making the environment even more oppressive. The floor, despite being well-maintained, felt cold and impersonal beneath my feet. Nothing really happened here; the silence, punctuated by the footsteps of hurried students, was almost deafening. The atmosphere here had always been a reflection of the monotony I felt. Each hallway seemed like a repetition of the previous one, an endless maze of identical passages and doors that opened onto lifeless rooms. I felt like each day was a copy of the previous one, and this was beginning to weigh on me, as if each step down the hallway was a reminder of my own stagnation.

I think about Tom and the memories I've made here, and a feeling of nostalgia and longing mixes with sadness. I remember the afternoons spent in the boarding school garden, where Tom and I would talk about our hopes and dreams, far from the rules and prying eyes. The laughter and quiet moments with him are the only things that gave me a reason to face the monotonous day-to-day life of this place.

As I approach eighteen, I feel a mixture of relief and anxiety. Boarding school and its rigid rules will soon be a thing of the past, and the future lies before me like a blank canvas. The idea of ​​finally escaping the boring routine is exciting, but it also makes me apprehensive about what comes next. Tom and I have always had big dreams for when we leave here, and now that the time is approaching, it's impossible not to question whether we're ready for what awaits us. I would even find it funny how, whatever the reality of what happened yesterday, everything takes me away from everything I am so used to and resigned to, I would say. But the truth is that there is a big difference between an expected future and one that I have somehow chosen and shaped for myself. When did my life become so complicated? Oh, yes, since the moment my father died and my mother was arrested. The gossip in the neighborhood painted her as his murderer, a heartless con artist who had premeditated every detail: my birth out of wedlock, my father's premature death, and the vile accusations that followed. What sons of bitches…

- Hello, Mrs. Elizabeth— I start to speak, but my voice fails me when I see the newspaper spread out haphazardly on the kind lady's desk. My heart races and a lump forms in my throat. Anger boils inside me, and my hands, without realizing it, clench into fists so tight that my fingers hurt. The newspaper headline screams with unexpected cruelty: 'Notorious Small Town Con-Murderer Released.' The image of my mother takes up almost the entire page, her expression marked by sadness and exhaustion. I feel the blood rush to my head, my body shaking slightly with frustration and helplessness. The thought of how the image and the words expose my mother's pain and shame only increases my anguish. My stomach turns, and the anger turns into a wave of tears that I fight to hold back. How is this possible? How can my mother, who was so wrongly convicted, be portrayed like this? I wonder if there is any truth to the accusations or if it is all a cruel game. My heart aches as I think of how she must have felt back then, so long ago, exposed and helpless.

Previous

Sorry if there are many errors, I intend to correct them later✨

[icey--stars]

Stories To Be Told: PART 21

Series Index

A shadowsinger, a warrior, an Illyrian, that's what she was. Trained by one of the most formidable female warriors. Escaped the Illyrian camps and her clipping when she was barely sixteen and is now the holder of 6 siphons. What happens when she tries to sneak into the City of Starlight? And starts down a whole new road of chaos?

a/n: warning for mentions of… a missing hand. ya’ll get it. ALSO! in accordance to yesterday's post on the update schedule for stbt... updates will now be once a week on mondays :)

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

After Starfall, as promised, I prepared to fly down to the River House and talk with Rhysand.

But Azriel was walking toward me, and I was inclined to listen to him speak, instead of going to Rhys right now. “Are you going to go talk with Rhys?” He asked.

I nodded. “I have to… face it eventually, don’t I? Perhaps finally get the revenge I deserve.”

Azriel’s eyes shone with sympathy. He reached forward, grabbing my hand in his. Just a little touch, but it was reassuring. And with the close proximity, I also felt a rush of comfort run down that little thin set of strings between us. It eased my nerves ever so slightly.

“Do you want me to come with?” He offered.

I swallowed, closing my eyes briefly as I considered his offer. Then I nodded jerkily. “Please,” I whispered.

Azriel smiled a little, squeezing my palm lightly. Our shadows running over each other’s wrists, playing with each other. I never saw it before, but I heard all their voices, and maybe Azriel’s were a bit more… scrambled, as I didn’t know them– but they were there. And clearly were infatuated with the aspect of me and Azriel being near, and being able to mess with the other’s shadows.

“They’re playing,” I chuckled, momentarily distracted from the aspect of visiting Rhys.

Azriel grinned wider, his eyes locking on our twined hands. “They are,” he hummed. “It’s kind of…”

“Cute?” I guessed, watching as one set jumped into the air between us, dancing around freely. 

“Yeah,” Azriel chuckled. “Cute. Just like you.”

I blushed. “You fucker,” I swore, glancing up at his face again. “That was sly, and that’s the only reason I’m letting it slide.”

He smirked mischievously. “It’s not the first time you didn’t kill me for it, so I think it’s ‘third time’s the try?’ Yeah?”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re an idiot,” I scoffed.

“Better than other things,” he hummed. “I believe you called me an asshole first. I think I’ve stepped it up, haven’t I?”

I shook my head, but a smile was on my face.

“Ready to go?” Azriel asked gently, as if hesitant to bring up the matter again.

The dread from earlier immediately resurfaced and I tried to push it down again, but to no avail. “Yeah,” I hummed, eyes suddenly distant. “Let’s go.”

We took off, gliding down to the River House situated along the Sidra. Rhys opened the door, probably having either sensed us or seen us fly in.

“How’s the headache?” Rhys asked, going for a lighter tone after we’d entered the house.

I actually hadn’t had too bad of a headache this morning from the alcohol. Even after downing close to 10 drinks throughout the night. The hangover hadn’t been too bad.

“Could be worse,” I replied. Azriel nodded in agreement beside me. “And you?”

“Same,” Rhys hummed. “Are you alright with talking about what happened in Ironcrest?”

I swallowed, and nodded. “Yeah, yeah.”

Azriel grabbed my hand immediately, squeezing it. It was comforting to have that touch for once. To have that little grounding force keeping me from falling into my thoughts and memories.

“Let’s go sit,” Rhys recommended, motioning toward the couches just a few feet away. I nodded, sitting on a couch. Azriel sat next to me, not letting my hand go. Internally, I swore to thank him. As a friend, as a mate, as something, but he was helping considerably.

“Right,” Rhys said, sitting in an armchair nearby. “I’ve heard most of what happened from Azriel, but if possible, I’d like to hear your point of view, or at least what happened when Az disappeared.”

I took a deep breath. “When Az left…” I began. “Ambroz stood, and I followed. He… uh… slapped me, and when I tried to draw a dagger, he grabbed onto my wing.”

I felt a pulse of anger from the bond in my chest. “I wasn’t able to get to my other weapons. He took one of my daggers, and held it up to my wing. He was planning to… clip me. Finish the job, he said. Az burst in not too much later.”

Rhys nodded, eyes shining with sympathy. Azriel gently nudged my ankle with his boot, squeezing my palm. I experimentally sent some of that thankfulness I felt for the actions down the bond. A pulse of something that resembled affection came back in reply.

“Well, I suppose, mission accomplished,” Rhys hummed. “I’m sorry you had to go through that to warrant it though. It never was my intention, nor anyone’s to cause that to happen.”

I nodded, looking down at the floor. “It’s fine,” I lied. It wasn’t fine. No, not in the slightest. Not with these horrible feelings spilling from me.

“The next thing I want to ask,” Rhys continued. “Is if you still want to claim his killing blow. It’s yours if you want it. And if you’d like to gain some closure by speaking with him, then you are free to do so.”

I took a deep breath, eyes closing briefly. “I’ll do it,” I muttered. “When can I?”

“Whenever you’d like. Just… don’t go alone,” Rhys replied. “And if you’d like to do it as soon as possible, we can grab some gear and go right now.”

I looked over at Azriel, silently begging him to come with me.

He dipped his head, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “If you want to do it today angel, we can. I can go with you.”

I nodded. “Let’s kill this asshole,” I said in the most even voice I could manage right now. My heart was pounding against my chest, the sound of blood rushing through my ears only adding to that anxiety curling in my gut. “I’ll get my sword.”

Rhys glanced at Azriel incredulously, but he soon turned back to me. “We can all go,” he decided.

I nodded, standing from the couch and letting Azriel’s hand drop from my own. He stood up beside me. “We’ll be right back brother.”

And barely fifteen minutes later, I was standing right outside the cell of Lord Ambroz of Ironcrest. My father. With my High Lord, and my mate as the spymaster. “Let’s go,” I ground out, putting my hand on the handle of my sword from where it rested at my hip. 

Azriel leaned in to whisper in my ear. “One word, and you can leave and never think about him again, got it?”

I nodded, and then motioned to Rhys to open up the door that did not have a door handle. The High Lord did not have his wings out, despite flying here, but his dark magic was showing, flowing around so similarly to my shadows. Speaking of my shadows, they were curled up close to me. A few whispered to sing with them. And though I wished I could right now, there was a job I had to finish.

The door opened and the High Lord went in first, and I followed with Azriel right on my trail.

Ambroz was locked tightly in chains connecting to the wall. He looked ragged, and so much different than the last time I saw him. He was indeed missing a hand. Halfway through his left forearm, it had been cut off. Bone severed through rage. And his healing had only been able to close the skin around the stub.

But the male himself? Oh, he smirked when he saw me. He looked so incredibly proud of what he did.

Rhys spoke first, voice speaking in a deadly sort of way that curled up like his darkness. “Ambroz, I believe you have some things to speak about with Y/N.”

Ambroz chuckled lowly. “Indeed I do.”

I took a final, deep calming breath before stepping closer to the male. “Why’d you do it?” I asked. “Why did you do it?”

Ambroz rolled his eyes. “Daughter, you look well.”

“Answer the fucking question,” Azriel snapped from my side. I saw his hand go down to his thigh, where one of his prized daggers was tightened into the sheath.

The prisoner rolled his eyes dramatically. “It is custom, daughter. And I am a lord, appeasing the citizens of my camp.”

“It isn’t your camp anymore,” Rhys snarled.

“Oh really?” Ambroz chuckled. “Whose is it then, High Lord?”

“Mine. Until I can find a reasonable replacement.”

“As if you’ll find someone,” Ambroz scoffed.

I cut in. “Stop acting as if you’re better than everyone else, Ambroz. I don’t fucking care. At the moment, you are the one in chains. And you are the one who’s going to die.”

“That’s what you think, daughter,” Ambroz said smugly.

I tensed, the word ‘daughter’ finally worming its way into my skull. “I will never be your daughter,” I snarled.

“Oh, but you are,” Ambroz smirked. Probably enjoying the fact he was finally getting into my head. “And you will forever be. It makes me curious, because you never dared wonder about your eye color, did you?”

I didn’t share the eye color my mother and brother had. I’d always had something different. And now that I looked into Ambroz’s eyes… They were the same color. Exactly the same. “Shut up,” I growled, tightening my grip on my sword. “Just shut the fuck up.”

Azriel, beside me, put a hand on my shoulder. The touch grounded me enough to realize my wings had flared out in my anger, and that I was tensed as hard as a boulder.

Ambroz scoffed. “Look at you, still uncontrollable.”

Azriel snapped his head up, his glare accentuated by the shadows curling in his hair and around his ears.

I turned away, taking a few steps away from my childhood torturer. There was a soft tap on my mind’s shields. Dark claws skittering along the edges of the barrier I kept up to protect my thoughts. I opened up hesitantly.

Rhys’s voice filled my mind, the dark claws gentle as they stood at the edge of my mind, not going in too far. You’re not obligated to stay, you know that right? I said if you want the killing blow. Not that you needed to make it.

I’m fine, I replied.

Just wanted to remind you, that’s all. And then Rhys retreated.

Ambroz continued to snarl insults at me, but I heard Azriel and Rhys snarking right back at him.

Finally, I turned back. “Ambroz, you will pay for what you’ve done to me and others in the past. But not by my hand.”

I felt surprise from the bond in my chest. I leaned in to whisper into Azriel’s ear. “Give him hell.”

Azriel turned his head to look at me, and finally, resolution filtered into his gaze. “I’ll find you later,” he promised. “After I make him pay for hurting you.”

I nodded, and then cast one more glance at Rhys before I winnowed into the skies above Velaris, snapping my wings open to glide. The silence and comfort of flying didn’t last as long as I liked, and I was forced to turn back to the House of Wind, going to my room only to collapse onto my bed, groaning at the horrible feelings I had right now.

Not just from Ambroz, but for some reason, just something felt wrong. So wrong I couldn’t even muster the energy to get up. I felt like absolute shit. And I wasn’t even sick! I just felt like shit for what was probably no damn reason.

It was hours before Azriel returned. I heard him walk into his room, boots squelching against the floor. Another hour passed before he softly knocked on my door.

“Y/N?” He called. “Could I come in?”

I groaned, but called out to him, “Come in!”

The door knob twisted and Azriel padded into the room. I turned my head to look at him, lifting my wing out of the way from where it draped across the bed and down to the floor. Azriel wasn’t wearing his leathers anymore, he was just wearing a loose shirt. He chuckled, amused, when he saw me.

“You alright angel?”

I laid my wing right back down, my face going into the bed to muffle my next groan of frustration.

Azriel huffed. “It’s not about that asshole, right?”

I shook my head. I had trusted Azriel to take care of that and exact revenge from Ambroz. I trusted Azriel. “I just feel like shit, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he admonished. “I get feeling like shit.”

I chuckled, lifting my head to look at him. His hair was wet, and almost looked fluffy like this. He must’ve taken a bath to clean off the blood that had surely been spilled.

“Do you care if I scratch your head? You seemed to like it before,” he asked, walking around my wing to crouch at the head of the bed, looking at me.

I hummed, closing my eyes again. “Sure,” I hummed.

I could almost feel his shit-eating grin from here. One of those beautiful scarred hands trailed up the back of my neck, producing just the slightest shiver, before scratching at that short hair, his short nails feeling great against my scalp.

I hummed, content.

“Am I allowed to call you cute now?” Az chuckled, trailing his hands up along the side of my head, scratching near the ear before moving to the top.

I grumbled, not opening my eyes.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” Azriel said.

I leaned into his touch, too utterly emotionally raw and tired to care how it might be seen. It just felt so good to have someone I trusted, and loved–when did I establish I loved Azriel?–just gently scratching at my scalp. The feeling was only proving to make me sleepy, despite it only being midday.

“Rest, angel,” Azriel hummed. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

I smiled, and got more comfortable, bringing my wings up to rest on the bed instead of the floor. Azriel pulled the blankets out from under me carefully, not touching my wings or any part that he hadn’t gotten strict permission to touch. Then he ever so gently tucked the blankets around me, and continued to scratch my head from where he was kneeled on the floor. I fell asleep easily, feeling so incredibly safe, loved and at home. And with the scent I called home before, of cedar trees and night-chilled misty air… it was just perfect. Everything felt just perfect.

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

TAGLIST (see post for getting added)

@mis-lil-red, @bunnymallowo, @judig92, @biblophilefox82, @azzydaddy, @thegirlintheshadows101, @whatupmydudes01, @feyres-fireheart, @elizarikaallen, @xenlynn, @panzees-bizarre-adventures, @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @baebeepeach, @nyctophiliiiiaaa, @brekkershadowsinger, @officiallyunofficialperson, @bookslut420, @margssstuff, @bluephoenix908, @goldentournesol, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @ladylokilaufeyson5,

[myloversthesunrise]

the starless mermaid [i]

FAR out in the ocean, where the water is as blue as the prettiest cornflower, and as clear as crystal, it is very, very deep; so deep, indeed, that no cable could fathom it: many church steeples, piled one upon another, would not reach from the ground beneath to the surface of the water above. There dwell the Sea King and his subjects.

AO3

Author's Note: helloo this is my attempt of rewriting ACOTAR with my OC insert, and this is set before the ACOTAR book. if you read my previous series, this is a rewritten version of it and the past version will be discontinued. i hope you'll enjoy it and thank you for sticking by me!

trigger warnings: kidnapping, death by decapitation

Mothers are always right, they say.

Lin supposed it extended to grandmothers and other maternal roles too, though she would rather choke on a Mala soup than admit it out loud to her grandmother.

It was ridiculous how Lin was proven to be wrong during the first and only time she stood up to her grandmother’s words.

Everyone in the village hadn’t called her Scaredy Lin for no reason. Her friends had always rolled their eyes every time Lin meekly denied their invitations to stay out late or sneak away while every parent and elderly gushed at her obedience.

But deep down inside, Lin wished she would have more time with her friends. Sometimes she could hear their laughter as they passed by her cottage and stalked deep into the woods that lie nearby. She knew Ah Ma noticed her longing stares, but her grandmother did nothing but nudge her softly to remind her of the current task at hand.

“The woods aren’t safe after dark,” she chided gently. “You’ll understand one day.”

Her small village was deep in the mountain and surrounded by forests. Some say faeries still remain within the woods, some say ancient magic lurks in there, a trouble waiting to be discovered. Lin had preferred the more rational reasonings of wild animals that roam freely in the woods.

But her friends had never been in any danger. The next day, she would see them in perfect condition—not a single hair missing from their head nor even a scratch on their skin.

So why was she not allowed to go?

The wagon—she had assumed she was on one—rode over a large rock and shook violently, causing her to bounce and hit her head against the chest she was locked in.

It must’ve been hours, she winced internally.

How far is she going?

The darkness and the constant swaying of the wagon had brought motion sickness upon her stomach, and as more minutes passed by, Lin could feel herself getting more and more nauseous. Her hands began to clam up and her body began to sweat profusely. She had to do everything in her power not to throw up inside the damn chest and lie upon her own puke.

Lin clenched her hands into fists and dug her nails deep into her palm. Her mind traveled back into her memory where she had left off before the damn rock interrupted her.

That afternoon, Ah Ma gave her a break from helping at the clinic and Lin didn’t waste the rare chance she had to spend some time with her friends.

Charlotte—daughter of their village headman—had invited Lin to a small gathering she would be having in the forest. Lin had a feeling the invitation would not be extended to her had she wasn’t there to have lunch with them. All the invitations and solicitation for her had died out after they realized it would be easier to fight a bear barehanded rather than have Ruo Lan allow Lin to go out after dark.

Lin’s shoulders fell in disappointment and she tried to mask her sadness with a grin—although she was sure it came out more as a grimace. “I’ll try to ask my grandmother later.”

Lin appreciated how everybody nodded and played along even though they already knew the answer.

A warm hand placed itself upon hers, and Lin’s dark brown eyes met Akane’s.

Akane. Beautiful, graceful, Akane. A few years older than her. Skin as lustrous as a pearl. Soft brown hair that stopped below her ears. A smile that could melt anyone into her will.

They both have dark brown eyes, yet Akane’s eyes always shone with warmth like sunshine on a winter afternoon, unlike Lin’s dark brown eyes which were a few shades too dark and always made people feel like she had been glaring at them.

If people in the village adored Lin as a daughter, they had adored Akane as a beauty.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Akane gently reminded her. “But we would greatly appreciate having you there.”

Her stunning brown eyes stared into Lin’s dark ones and she immediately lost her words.

“Plus,” she continued with a mischiveous grin. “It’d be more fun to have you there.”

Akane’s pretty brown eyes twinkled with mischief—like she knew something Lin didn’t—and her smile was so pretty that Lin held back her breath.

That was all that it took for Lin to agree.

She did not bother to ask Ah Ma for a permission—she had already known the answer.

After her grandmother went inside her room, Lin waited for an hour and a half until she no longer heard any movement inside. She snuck out through their back door—right by the kitchen—and walked down a small path that leads into the woods.

The old, rickety cottage was the furthest one from their village, so it did not take her long to finally enter the woods, only accompanied by a small kerosene lantern that she had hidden behind their cottage beforehand.

There was a well by the forest, only a few meters into it. It had been here before the village was built yet villagers have never used it.

Faerie-made, they said. Nothing good comes out of it.

She did not think how strange it was for Akane not to be there even though Lin was late into their meeting. Lin had not paid attention how quiet the forest was that night, no crickets nor any other animals made their sound. All the thoughts inside her head was filled with “What ifs” and the nerves of her body was filled with the excitement of sneaking out of her curfew for the first time in her life.

The young woman heard was a snap of a twig before her head was hit by a blunt force and darkness clouded her vision.

And then she woke up tied inside an empty chest.

Waking up without being able to see anything and tied up with her body tucked into a fetal position had sent Lin into a crying, sobbing, hysterical fit. Only after choking on her own saliva, Lin had realized that it would be better for her health and respiratory system to stay calm and distract herself.

Lin tried to think of things that would calm her down, and her mind instantly drifted to her grandmother.

Of all the times in my life to get kidnapped, Lin cursed in her head. It just had to be for the first time I snuck out.

She would never hear the end of this from Ah Ma.

Ruo Lan was a stern woman. She was strict with her rules and cheap with her praises. Despite never raising a hand towards Lin, she had always obeyed her words and sought her approval and kind words so desperately.

Her grandmother had always done all the heavy lifting in their cottage and only let Lin start helping her when she was thirteen, yet Lin couldn’t help but worry for her grandmother who would sleep by the fireside when the night gets a bit colder and winced every time she stood up after sitting down for a long time.

Will she be alright? Lin’s train of thought continued as she bit her lip in worry. Who will help her and grab things from upstairs if she needed them? Who would help Ah Ma prepare for dinner?

Lin had worked herself up into another panic and quickly felt her stomach churn. She dug her nails deeper into her palm and chewed the inside of her bottom lip until she could taste a tang of blood inside her mouth, hoping the pain would stop her from throwing up.

Where are they taking her? What was her captor like? Would she be able to fight them off?

Lin had planned on what would happen. The wagon stops, her captor let her out and Lin kicks them in their crotch before running away.

Assuming that she could aim with her blindfold on.

But despite all of her thoughts and attempts to distract herself, there was one question that won’t stop running inside her head.

Why would someone kidnap a nobody like her? And who would do such a thing?

Her village was one of the smalles ones in the kingdom. To fastest road to Lin’s village from the nearby town is to pass through the forest that surrounds the entire village, filled with urban legends of monsters, ancient magic, and faerie horror. The journey alone takes three days through the unpaved road, and if they survive the mythical dangers of the forest, there was still the matter of wild animals and bandits.

The gears inside her head were working hard to the point Lin did not realize the wagon had already stopped until a few minutes later.

Fear and panic shot right through her. Lin tensed up her entire body and memorized her initial plan (kick them in the crotch then run) and waited for further movement.

The chest she was in was quite thick and well-proofed, Lin could barely hear anything but whispering and mumblings from outside. Not a moment later, a low creaking sound was heard, and Lin could feel people walking around the wagon and beginning to lift the weights inside it—judging by the swaying of it.

It went on for at least thirty minutes before the movements stopped and someone jumped off the wagon. The creaking sound went back—a sign that whoever it was had locked the wagon and climbed up the coachman seat before Lin could feel a hard jolt as the carriage began to move once more.

With her tied fists, Lin began to loudly hit on the chest she was trapped in. Her mouth was gagged but it didn’t stop her from attempting to scream or let out any noise to be heard. Using her tied legs, she stomped and kicked as hard as she could while regretting how she had frozen earlier when someone was on the wagon.

A few minutes later, the wagon stopped and Lin went still for a moment before she began to kick harder and scream louder through her gag. Her heart beat faster than a running stallion and she could’ve sworn it would jump out any moment from now.

She felt the wagon shift and realized that the coachman had left the carriage. The young woman stilled and strained her ears, and just as she had predicted, she could hear slow murmurs of a conversation.

Lin tried harder to listen to what they were saying, but before she could catch any words, the familiar creak had been heard once more and the wagon shifted.

A click-clack sound was heard from inside the chest, and Lin knew her captor was unlocking her chest.

She didn’t know that her heart could beat faster than it already did, but it could. Her palms were sweaty and she could feel it trembling in anxiety.

The chest opened with a loud creak, and fresh cold air brushed Lin in her face.

Before she could kick any crotches, her captor lifted her up by her upper arm and dragged her down the cart. Her eyes darted around in panic as she tried to take in her views the best she could.

Trees. Mountain air. No settlements or cabins or houses in sight at all.

She’s deep in the forest. But which forest?

Right at the edge of the wagon, her captor threw her onto the ground and Lin winced behind her gag.

Not wanting to lose momentum, she quickly got up on her knees and took a good look at her kidnapper.

Well.

Kidnappers.

Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of them both, her ‘captor’ was busy tidying up the cart while the ‘accomplice’—she assumed—was studying her intensely.

The moonlight broke through the tree canopies, shining its glow upon them. Not bright enough to allow Lin to see their faces clearly, but enough to see a pig’s tail growing out of one of their butt.

Lin could’ve sworn she forgot to breathe as her captor turned around and showed off his flat, pig snout to her.

Her head snapped to the accomplice that was still staring at her with his dark eyes, and her eyes finally adjusted enough to the dim lighting to see two pointy ears underneath his curls.

Faeries, she realized in horror. Worse. High Fae.

With wide eyes, she had scrambled back and away using her butt and her tied ankles, completely forgetting her original plans of crotch-kicking and opted to run away.

“Shut up ye’ wench,” a gruff voice snorted.

Lin hadn’t even realized she was screeching in terror until the Piggy Fae snapped at her. Her eyes met his and she began to wiggle away even faster.

“Ge’ back ‘ere!” the piglet cursed at her while pointing his finger as if scolding a naughty puppy.

Her face was wet, and without realizing it, Lin was crying.

What were they going to do to her? Torture her? Eat her? Or… worse?

His accomplice finally straightened up from where he casually stood against a tree with his arms folded on his chest—and began walking towards her.

Her silent cries had turned into loud sobbing and whimpering as he eventually grew closer and grabbed Lin by her upper arm—like her captor had done—and dragged her back to the clearing where they were from.

“Well, she’s in one piece, jus’ as promised.” The piglet explained while gesturing his hands towards Lin. “Wan’ tha’ other half of the paym’n nau.”

So the Piggy faerie was the accomplice and the High Fae is the captor?

Once the High Fae finished dragging Lin back to where they were, he turned his back from Lin.

“Of course,” he answered. His voice was smooth and clear, said with complete certainty. His back covered Lin’s peripheral vision of their interaction.

Lin saw him pulling out a sword and slashed the air with a disgusting schnick.

There was a short moment of silence, before a loud thud was heard.

Her dark eyes darted to the space between the High Faerie’s leg—where she saw the piglet’s head rolling around the ground like a dice on a gambling table before stopping right by his feet.

His eyes were wide open—and they were staring at Lin.

If Lin did not scream earlier, she definitely screamed now.

Her breath was shaking and her entire body was trembling from fear but unlike earlier, the young woman had frozen in place. It was like the sight of a headless body had taken away all of her will to fight.

Lin knew how pathetic she looked right there. Tears were running down her eyes and snot ran down her nose. She whimpering and sobbing like a child—but she couldn’t find herself to stop. Her heart was ready to jump out of her chest any time then and Lin was expecting herself to pass out from the unreleased adrenaline running through her—if that’s even possible.

The High Faerie put back his sword to his sheath and turned around to face Lin with an exasperated sigh.

“Please do not make my job any harder than it already is,” he complained as he walked past Lin to the tree where he had stood by earlier.

Lin silently watched as he grabbed a shovel that was leaning on the tree and began to walk around while stomping his feet. Once he deemed the ground was good enough for a grave, he started digging wordlessly.

The repeated and continuous movement he was doing somehow calmed her down, and her sobbing had stopped. Her breathing went back to normal and her head had cleared up.

If Lin’s change from sobbing into utter silence surprised him, the High Fae did not show it.

He didn’t even acknowledge her existence other his earlier remark.

Lin sat as still as a rock. She calmed her breathing and wiped away her snot and tears with her sleeves.

Slowly and steadily, her hands reached down to the binding that tied her ankles together.

Her eyes were trained on the High Fae, not daring to look away from him just for one moment. A part of her said that it was to keep her eyes on the enemy, but she knew that she couldn’t trust herself to not glance at the decapitated head and start having another fit.

He continued digging the grave—gods knew how many hours he would have to do so—with his back facing her.

The High Fae was wearing an armor, she noticed. Black. Nothing bulky, slim yet sturdy. A guard on duty, perhaps? Or an assassin?

Chill ran through Lin’s bone at the thought and she made a harder attempt of unknotting the ties, but it was hard to do so while keeping her eyes on the enemy.

No. Not an assassin, Lin thought.

An assassin would’ve killed her without bothering to kidnap her first.

The fae in front of her thrusted his shovel to the ground and straightened his back for a moment—causing Lin to froze from his sudden change of movement. She held her breath, hoping that he wouldn’t even remember her existence.

He took a deep, exhausted sigh before wiping the swear off his eyebrows. Without any moment longer, the High Fae grabbed his shovel back from where it stood and continued his job.

Lin waited for a few moments—to make sure that he was truly immersed by his duty—before taking her eyes off him for a second to glance at the knot on her ankles and finish unraveling it.

But that second was all it took.

By the time Lin had looked up, the half-dug grave in front of her was empty.

Her heart had dropped to her stomach, and before she could look around, a blunt force hit the back of her head and knocked her unconscious.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The young woman was peacefully knocked out and curled up by her fireplace.

Her long black hair lied unraveled around her, reminding the faerie of a fair maiden in fairytales. Her cheeks were plump and her lips were small—but not thin—giving her a doll-like appearance.

Unlike her own, her ears were rounded. A human one.

The red-headed faerie noticed a small beauty mark above the right side of her lips.

The same one that Clythia had.

Amarantha jerked back from her niece, where she had knelt by the fireside and studied her niece like a bug under the magnifying glass.

The rumors were true, it seemed. Clythia’s daughter was indeed alive.

At first, Amarantha paid no attention to it. She had heard stories of survivors from Clythia’s entourage, but she had passed it off as lower servants and lesser Faeries. Until a new whisper began to flew from the Mortal Lands, of a black-haired girl with an uncanny resemblance to her late sister.

Still, the Lady Under the Mountain paid no attention to it, even though it nagged at the back of her mind. She had a court to run after all.

Yet, the whisper grew stronger and the story had spread. The young girl lived with her grandmother, a healer with mutilated ears and a scar across her right eye.

That was the moment her blood turned to ice and her fear took over her mind.

Amarantha immediately commanded her right hand to fetch the girl to her. Initially, she wanted to command Rhysand to make it a quick and swift mission, but if it were true that she was Clythia’s daughter…

No. She couldn’t risk her safety nor let Rhysand have a leverage over her. Clythia had died for her baby and Amarantha would not let everything Clythia had fought so hard for to waste.

It took them a week to fetch her—would’ve took Rhysand three days but beggars can’t be choosers, she supposed—and now the young woman was currently sleeping through Amarantha’s crisis.

Her curiosity took over and the High Faerie leaned forward once more to study her niece.

Amarantha noticed her round cheeks—flecked with old acne scars—and her smooth palm. The young girl’s chest rose up and down in steady beats. Her lips were slightly agape and her beauty mark above her lips had reminded her of her sister once more.

But this girl was not her sister.

Her sister would’ve realized she was being watched. She was strong and fierce and none of the softness her ‘daughter’ was.

The sight of her niece’s calm breathing and obliviousness towards what was happening around her angered redheaded faerie.

Her manicured hand grabbed the wine glass by the table and splashed it to the young woman’s face, causing her to wake up with a gasp.

“Wake up, you fool.” Amarantha sneered in anger.

No. She was not Clythia. Clythia would never sleep so easily in front of the enemy, nor would be so unprepared.

The young woman sat up. Her breathing was heavy and uneven and Amarantha could distinctly hear the soft groan that escaped her lips.

Clythia would never do that, she thought to herself. She’d bare her teeth and fought back without any hesitation. A small burst of hope began to grew inside Amarantha.

Perhaps it was all a rumor. A ghost story. And she could kill this girl in front of her, be done with it, and have a restful evening.

The young woman finally looked up to see a High Faerie glaring at her and immediately crawled back with fear shining in her eyes. Her shoulders were hunched in an attempt trying to make herself as small as possible and Amarantha sneered at the cowardice notion.

Their eyes met, and all hope that Amarantha had inside her had vanished into smoke.

Her eyes were dark, almost black. Too dark to be called brown.

But Amarantha knew those dark eyes would glitter like the night sky if she smiled. She knew the beauty mark above her right lip would wink at whoever was lucky enough to see it every time she laughed.

Just like hers.

She had seen them all. In her sister.

Amarantha had desperately wished that she might’ve been wrong.

Yet now that she was awake, there was no mistaking it.

She was Clythia’s daughter. Their curse. The one who unraveled their relationship, their hard work, their entire life, and even ended Clythia’s life.

Amarantha’s breathing grew even heavier. Her head spun and she could feel herself spiraling if she did not take control of herself soon.

The Lady Under the Mountain bared her teeth at her niece. “Do you know who I am?” She snarled. Her nails dug even deeper into her palm, causing a pain that she knew could focus on and stop herself from hyperventilating.

Lin did not trust her voice to be firm and steady, and she could only shook her head. She had thought she would cry and sob again like she had earlier, but it seemed that her tears have dried up and left her with dread and uneasiness and discomfort of being in a new environment instead of the terror that had filled her earlier.

A part of her suspected the decapitated head and seeing it happen right before her very eyes had something to do with it.

Lin carefully raised her eyes to study the faerie in front of her.

Unlike the earlier High Fae, this one was a woman. Her hair was red-gold and her eyes were pitch-black. She was beautiful and terrifying all the same.

The red-headed High Fae glowered at her wordless answer. Her eyebrows were furrowed in frustration as she glared at the ground and despite the dim-lighting by the fireplace, Lin noticed how she bit her bottom lip in concentration. She dragged her hands through her hair and Lin’s eyes followed after it, spotting the golden crown sat atop of her head.

A royalty? Lin’s heart skipped a beat and the gears in head began to turn. She pursed her lips in concentration.

Is she from the Autumn Court? But Lin remembered that the Autumn Court was a highly patriarchal court, and she highly doubted that they would let a woman wear a crown.

Amarantha cursed her recklessness. As soon as she heard the story, she demanded for the young woman to be brought in front of her. But now that she was actually here, Amarantha was at loss of what to do.

What was I expecting? She cursed herself.

Was she expecting her niece to stood up and raise her chin? Was she expecting her niece to be as dangerous as an unsharpened blade like her sister would? Was she expecting her niece to have the same sharp glint in her eyes as her sister had?

A voice inside her answered all those questions.

Yes. Yes. YES.

She wanted to see her sister, or at least a shadow or a reflection or a glint of it. She would’ve claimed her as her own, and raised her the way her sister would have raised her. She would’ve been her successor and the one to continue their glory after Amarantha was long gone.

But what she had was a poor imitation of her sister, and now the red-headed faerie’s plan—or lack of it—was ruined.

Amarantha could always throw her in jail, but the memory of her sister tugged her heartstrings and prevented her to do so. Making her niece into her ward was not an option either. She already had cracks inside her little empire—and having a half-mortal ward would not help her at all.

The Lady Under the Mountain plopped down on the settee and turned to stare at the young woman. Her hand were pinching her chin while being propped up by the armrest. Her dark eyes studied Lin like she was a puzzle she cannot solve.

Lin squirmed uncomfortably under her stare and tried to figure out where to keep her eyes on.

Her gaze darted around the room and studied it the best she could despite the settee in front of her covering the view.

They were sitting by a grand fire place. The settee in front of her was black decorated with gold swirls around it, companied by two other settees with the same coloring on its left and right side of it, creating a U-shape in front of the fire place.

Behind the settee and high up on the wall, Lin could see a black canopy hung against the wall and she guessed that there might be a bed underneath it.

To the right was a hallway, and to the left of where she was sitting—right across the hallway—was a the balcony. The glass door was nearly as tall as the ceiling of the room and was wide opened. Gentle breeze blew in, blowing the curtains in process and bringing in a scent of pine woods and the cold evening air.

The red-headed faerie snapped her fingers and Lin jumped as her head snapped towards her captor.

“Where is the bracelet?” She snapped.

Lin could’ve sworn she saw a slight tremble of the faerie’s hands, but she played it off as a trick of light from the burning fire place.

She licked her dry lips before answering. “What bracelet?” she replied with a hoarse voice.

She rolled her dark eyes at Lin. “The emerald one,” she emphasized on the word ‘emerald’ as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Silver cuff, with small diamonds around it and an emerald in the center.”

Amarantha caught the recognition that flashed through the young woman’s eyes.

That bracelet was all-too-familiar with Lin. She had tried it multiple times when she was a mere child, playing princesses and pretending she was at a ball as she danced around her small cottage.

Until Ah Ma had sold it when Lin was eight years old and struck with high fever to buy her medicines.

Little Lin whom had not understand the situation had cried all night long at the loss of her favorite bracelet.

“My—my grandmother had sold it,” she stuttered in anxiety. “A long time ago, when I was eight.”

Lin turned her head to look at the High Fae, and saw her posture visibly relaxed as she leaned back against her chair.

“Then find it.”

Unlike early frantic she had, the High Fae was calm as she demanded Lin to find her bracelet. She did not yell at her the way Ah Ma’s patient had done when the wanted to be the first one to get treated—she merely stated it and ordered her to do it as if Lin was fetching water from the well beside her house.

“But—but how?” Lin gaped at her. “It was twelve years ago!”

Her victorious stare was replaced by a cold, scathing one.

“Either you find it,” she threatened as her pitch-black eyes glinted with malice, “Or your grandmother will pay for it with her life.”

Lin flinched under her remark.

Under the moonlight, the High Fae sat upon the settee like a queen on her throne. Her chin was raised high as she sat back in the settee and looked down upon her. Dark eyes pierced through Lin and her red-gold hair stumbled down from her shoulders and the moonlight shone against her crown.

She barely lifted a finger nor raised her voice, yet Lin felt like The High Fae was holding a knife against her throat.

Lin opened her mouth to argue—and closed it tight when she could not find herself any strong defense against the High Fae’s demands.

Amarantha sneered. She leaned forward and her graceful hands grabbed Lin by her jaw, gripping roughly.

“Let me tell you a story, child.” She growled while throwing Lin unto the floor—slamming her cheek against the floor in the process—and leaned forward to pour more wine inside her glass.

Lin tried her best to wince quietly before sitting up to her initial kneeling position.

The red-headed faerie rolled her eyes at her wincing and leaned back to her seat. She took a sip out of her wine, and spoke.

“Your grandmother is one of us.”

Her words felt like a punch to her gut, and Lin did not know where she got the strength to speak up, but somehow she choked up her words.

“No she’s not!” Lin protested and hoped she did not sound like a child. “My grandmother is human.”

Amarantha rolled her eyes. “Haven’t you wondered how she got those scars on her ears? Have you seen her age the way your people do?”

Lin’s heart dropped to her stomach.

When she was younger, Lin had asked about her grandmother’s scar once. It ran through her eye, blinding her permanently in her right eye and terrifying enough to scare anyone from bothering two women who lived alone. She answered that she had gotten it from a battle. She was a healer stationed to help injured soldiers and a raid had happened when she was there.

But when Lin asked about her ears, Ah Ma did not reply. In fact, she did not speak to Lin for the next few days until Lin cried out of guilt and apologized.

Afterward, Lin never mentioned Ah Ma’s ears to her again. But sometimes when Ah Ma wasn’t looking, Lin would accidentally study it.

It was rounded—yet jagged—like someone had cut through it. Rough scars ran through the top of it which confirmed Lin’s theory even further. Lin wondered what kind of battle Ah Ma went to that would have her ears mutilated so horribly.

Lin ignored the ache in her gut of realizing that the High Fae had a possibility to speak the truth and watched as the red-headed faerie took a sip from her wine before continuing her story.

“Ruo Lan was my servant, once.” Lin’s heart skipped a beat when the High Fae mentioned her grandmother’s name. “And she stole a lot more than that—not just the one bracelet I asked you about earlier.”

“After The Great Mortal War,” the faerie continued and piqued Lin’s interest. “Your grandmother grew restless, saying something about how she wanted to settle down and live out the rest of her life in peace.”

“I ignored her, assuming that it was a mere phase of hers and it’d pass soon.” Amarantha waved her hand to emphasize. “But one night, your grandmother ran away from me with a chest of my treasures.”

“Rumors had it that she took a newborn babe from a couple of mortals and ran off to have a secret little family, but I didn’t believe it until I saw it myself.”

Her grandmother had told Lin that her parents had died in the Great Mortal War.

“I could care less what she chose to do with her life,” she scowled. “What she did was an act of betrayal. She abandoned her master and ran away to chase her hopes and dreams.” The High Faerie rolled her eyes in annoyance. “I could’ve punished her for it, sentenced her to death.”

She turned her obsidian black eyes to stare at Lin’s dark ones.

“But she was a good servant, so I ignored her betrayal and opted to leave her alone with her fantasies of having a happy ending.”

“However,” She glared at Lin while the latter flinched under her stare and tried her best to stand her ground. “I would like my treasures back.”

Lin’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Growing up, Lin knew her grandmother did not have many jewels. One is the emerald bracelet the High Fae had demanded earlier, and the other one is a jade pendant. They had never lived lavishly either, barely earning enough to save up. If her grandmother had the luxury of selling those jewels, she had never shown it.

“But if my grandmother was the one who stole it,” Lin asked ever so softly and politely—as if not wanting to upset the High Faerie that could very much kill her with a swipe of her arm. “Then why did you take me instead of her?”

Lin saw a ghost smile on the faerie’s lips. She lifted up her wine glass as if raising a toast.

“A treasure for a treasure,” the faerie gloated with a triumphant glint in her eyes. “She took my treasure, and I took her treasure.”

Lin frowned and opened her lips to argue but before she could speak, the High Fae tutted at her while waving her index finger from side to side, as if scolding a naughty child.

“It’s either you stay here with me,” the faerie chided. “Or I take your grandmother’s life as a payment.”

Once again, Lin thought she would cry as soon as the faerie said those words, but all that was left was a terrible stomachache that happens when she was under a lot of pressure and chest pain coming from the stress.

She took in a long, shaky breath before speaking.

“If I stay here,” Lin asked with a trembling voice—as if she was one nudge away from tears. “Will you leave my grandmother alone?”

Her dark eyes met the faerie’s pitch-black ones. If Lin was going to give her life away, then she wanted to make sure that it would not be in vain. She did not care if the High Faerie was right and Ah Ma had lied to her during her entire life. Lin knew her grandmother loved her, and that was all that mattered. She wanted her grandmother to live out the rest of her life in peace.

Amarantha held her gaze and swore, “I promise.”

Lin’s gaze slowly faltered under her shark-like stare and she quietly nodded before bowing her head.

“I’ll stay.”

Her voice was only slightly louder than a whisper, but Amarantha had heard it nonetheless and curled her lips into a triumphant smirk.

“Swear it,” she demanded. “Bargain with me.”

The red-headed faerie held out her arm and Lin stared at it like a snake that was about to strike.

“Say it out loud after me,” the faerie commanded.

“In the place of my grandmother’s life, I am bargaining my own to forever be with my master until death separates us.”

Lin tried not to cringe at how the High Faerie addressed herself as her ‘master’.

But she had no choice.

So Lin raised her own hand to meet the snake’s bite and grasped it tight to mask her trembling hand.

“In the place of my grandmother’s life,” Lin denounced loudly to stop her voice from shaking. “I am bargaining my own to forever be with my master.”

Lin shook her hand with the High Fae’s.

“Until death separates us,” she swore.

When their hands shook, Lin had expected something to shift. Perhaps she would bear a mark of their bargain or something would feel different in the air.

Something.. magical.

But it felt like nothing, other than the fact she had sold her soul to a monster. It was a normal handshake with the price of her life.

She was almost disappointed. Almost.

“Aspen!” the red-headed faerie suddenly called out, causing Lin to jump.

Lin heard the sound of a door being opened and closed, proceeded by the sounds of footsteps.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

Lin’s head snapped towards the source of the sound and saw her first captor standing merely a few steps away by the fireside. His hands were folded behind his back a

Her first thought was beheading.

Her second thought was how she was going to be the next person to be beheaded.

Her third thought was if it was possible to run past two High Faes to jump off from the balcony and straight to her death.

Fortunately for Lin, it was all unnecessary.

‘Her Majesty’ nodded her chin towards Lin.

“Take her to the dungeon,” she commanded. “And make sure no one else knows of her existence.”

‘Aspen’ nodded, and walked towards Lin to grab her by the arm. Lin turned her head to protest to the red-headed High Fae, but before she could speak, the world around her shifted and twisted along with her stomach and she had to grip her hands in fist to hold in the content of her stomach.

But when her feet finally touched the ground (when did they start flying?), Lin knelt over and threw up.

Her throat ached, her stomach was in pain, her body was dripping in cold sweat, and she had never felt as disgusting as she did in that moment.

Lin didn’t have to look to know that her captor (the pig decapitator) was standing five feet away with a wince plastered on his face. “Why couldn’t you throw up in the bucket?” he complained.

Once she was sure she had nothing else to be let out, Lin wiped her mouth with her sleeves and took a few steps back from her puddle of puke.

Lin’s eyes hazily darted around and sure enough, there was a bucket siting one inch away from her mess.

“Here,” Aspen snapped and shoved a glass of water towards her and splashing the top of her dress in progress.

Lin did not care. She grabbed it and gargled a gulp of water inside her mouth to rinse the disgusting taste of her puke. Keeping it inside her mouth, she jumped over her puddle and grabbed the bucket before throwing it up inside it. Lin gulped, gargled, and threw it up and repeated the process until she was sure that her mouth had tasted back to normal.

“Thanks,” she mumbled while handing back her glass.

Aspen grunted and threw the glass back into where it took it from.

Usually, Lin’s nosiness would’ve made her look but she was too sick to care. Her hands gripped on the bar and breathed heavily, trying to collect herself.

Wait. Bar?

Lin opened her eyes and turned to look to where she was leaning on.

Sure enough, there was a bar. Bars, to be exact. As tall as the ceiling and completely covering the room behind it.

Aspen opened the door, grabbed her arm, and threw her inside one of the cells. Lin did not even have the energy to protest nor fight back.

Her bum fell on the floor and she watched helplessly as the faerie locked her jail cell with keys before pocketing it.

Not magic? She frowned in daze.

For so-called monsters born with magic running through their blood, they seemed awfully… human.

To her surprise, Aspen flicked his finger towards her puddle of vomit. Then, Lin watched as it slowly moved to the drain until there was nothing left of her mess.

But it didn’t stop there.

A closet opened itself and a mop accompanied with a bucket walked out. A few seconds later, a bottle of what she assumed to be a floor cleaner followed suit.

The bucket stopped under a faucet. Aspen flicked his fingers once more and it opened itself, pouring water inside the bucket followed by the floor cleaner, leaving a distinct smell of apple. The faucet turned itself off, the mop dipped into the bucket and began to clean the floor, especially the spot where she had vomited earlier. It squeezed the filthy water out by the drain, and floated towards the faucet where it was magically turned on again and began to rinse itself.

Not long, the mop floated back to the bucket and sneaked inside the cell adjacent to hers and began mopping it clean.

So they do have magic.

From the corner of her eyes, Aspen straightened up and Lin snapped her head towards his.

“Wait!” She cried out.

Aspen surprisingly turned and waited for her to have her words.

“I—” she stuttered. “How long will I be here?”

He shrugged. “Until the High Lady says the otherwise.”

High Lady?

“Will you remind her of my existence?” Lin carefully asked.

“If she’s in a good mood.”

Lin nodded. She supposed it was the best bargain she could get in this situation. Her eyes met his and she thanked him quietly. “For cleaning the floor,” she elaborated.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Aspen said matter-of-factly. “I hate winnowing in to the smell of puke and shit.”

If Lin was sober enough, she’d ask what he meant by ‘winnowing’, but her lingering nausea shut her up and rendered her weak.

The young woman sighed dejectedly before finding a corner of her cell and curling up against it.

Aspen took one long glance around the room before meeting Lin’s gaze once more.

“Try not to die before the High Lady visits you,” he asked.

Lin could’ve sworn she heard something about the “High Lady” blaming Aspen if it ever happened, but all the stress and shock finally came down upon her and she passed out cold before she could hear the rest of his sentence.

[thesunloveschips]

Eye of the Storm - Chapter 4: Introductions and Newborns

Summary: In the wake of Rhysand’s ascension as High Lord, the Bone Carver gifts a prophecy. More than five hundred years later, Azriel continues to wait for the one who is finally reborn as his High Lady’s sister. All it takes a dip in the Cauldron for things to start falling into place.

Chapter Summary: With all the sisters now present, they dine. New shadows are born. Conversational topics include childhood trauma and prelude to war.

Click here to access the Masterlist of the Eye of the Storm

****

“Nyra.” Feyre stood up immediately. The call for her older sister had been one of surprise and something else. Whatever that something else was, she couldn't identify it. That unknown feeling froze her limbs and stopped her from moving towards her sister. The others stood up after Feyre and waited. Nyra Archeron walked forward towards Feyre. She ignored Azriel and Rhysand and despite passing by their towering figures. She saw Feyre and only Feyre.

Rhys felt a tad bit offended at him being ignored by a female—how could anybody look past this? This being his gloriously crafted face, his muscular body over which he wore fine fabrics, his neck and chest with tattoos peeking out. How was it that none of these females were in awe of his beauty? Feyre had thrown a shoe at him the first time he met her after he had started recuperating and was back to his level of handsomeness. Nesta looked at him like she’d rip his head off. Elain had commendably not vomitted upon seeing him. And Nyra just walked past.

Cassian watched this female walk in. He noted that her body was weaker, her steps seemed to require more energy. And despite this female being twin to the wildfire standing next to him, he had started noting their differences. Subtle differences like Nyra's cheekbones not being as high as Nesta's. The shape of their eyebrows. And they way one of them looked at the fae murderously and the other simply ignored them. Nesta's eyes were feline-like. Eyes that narrowed at him and had his knees weakening. Nyra had larger eyes. And these little differences made it easier for him to differentiate between the two sisters.

Seeing Elain and Nesta had made Feyre quite emotional but Feyre had managed to keep it all contained. But seeing Nyra took away the lid of it all. Tears formed at the corner of her eyes. Nyra pulled her in for an embrace and Feyre began wailing like a newborn at the comfort of her sister. Nesta walked back to her chair but did not sit. Not until Nyra had taken her seat. All of them continued to stand and watched with mixed feelings of awkwardness, grief, confusion and so on as Feyre cried and Nyra hummed an old tune for her youngest.

“Let’s get you seated now, shall we?” And with that, Nyra gently led Feyre to her seat and made her sit. She leaned down just enough to kiss Feyre on the forehead. “Feeling better now?” Feyre nodded. Nyra kissed her again and then looked at Nesta and then at Elain and then at Cassian.

“Are you Feyre’s friends?” And then she looked at Rhysand and Azriel properly. She hadn’t seen any of them or even her sisters when she entered the room and headed straight for Feyre. And now that she had, she noted the difference in appearance and their presence which had created a peculiar scent in the air around them.

Rhysand was pleasantly surprised. He was the High Lord of the Night Court but he was also Rhys. He was thankful for having a family in front of whom he could be just Rhys. And he was sad that his mate had no one who let her be just Feyre. Because Feyre had always been the breadwinner for her family. The Cursebreaker for all of Prythian. A mere wife for Tamlin. But this female, his mate, was just Feyre. Neither Elain nor Nesta ever truly allowed her to be Feyre. But in this moment, Nyra did. And he felt a wave of relief. The only sister who let Feyre be a sister to her. To be just Feyre. And a sense of gratitude bloomed in his chest. Gratitude and respect. Because Nyra might not have been able to stop Feyre from going into the woods but she treated Feyre like what she was. A young girl. Just Feyre.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nyra Archeron. My name is Rhysand and I am the High Lord of the Night Court. Please feel free to call me Rhys.” Rhys bowed and raised his head with a smile. Cassian looked at Rhysand like he had sprouted a tail. Where were these manners suddenly coming from? And Rhys sounded so genuine.

Nyra’s body dipped a bit and she closed her eyes in return to Rhys’s bow. She was now confused. Wasn’t Feyre in love with the High Lord of the Spring Court? Then why was the High Lord of the Night Court here with her? Regardless, she gave him a polite smile. “It’s nice to meet you too. Apologies for not dressing properly. I had already retired for the night.”

“That is no issue, my lady. It is we who should be apologising for our unplanned visit.” Rhys bowed again to Nyra, albeit not as low as he had during his own introduction. Only he knew that the difference in his manners was because of the difference in the levels of affection Feyre had when she spoke of each of her sisters.

“That is of no issue. Please. Call me Nyra.”

“Certainly.” Nyra nodded and then moved to the seat at the head of the table.

“Shall we?” She looked around and then sat. Everyone took their seats. In a bold move that did not make her faint, Elain took the first dish and passed it on and soon, the foods were served in all plates except Nyra’s.

“Will you not be dining with us?” Azriel asked when he noticed Nyra’s empty plate.

“I have had my dinner and my medicine. I cannot take more food so soon.” She replied and then waited. He had yet to introduce himself whereas her name, it seemed, was already known among the fae.

“Pardon me,” Azriel stood up and bowed. “My name is Azriel.” He felt a tad bit awkward for not having introduced himself. And even more awkward because the first thing he said to Nyra Archeron resulted in a reminder of her illness.

“Please do not bow. In fact, let’s skip the formalities. Nice to meet you, Azriel. My name is Nyra. And would you and your friend like stools? We have never had winged people visit us. I’m not sure if the chairs are comfortable for you.”

“We are fine, my lady.”

“Are you sure? And my name is Nyra.” She had the oddest feeling rise within her. The need to tease this man. He was as flustered as a boy who was going through puberty.

“Completely sure,” The shadow singer paused for a second before saying her name. “Nyra.” It felt like a test to see how her name would be on his tongue. He liked it. And from her warm gaze, it seemed she liked it too.

She looked at Cassian who grinned at her. “My name is Cassian.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Cassian.” Her smile seemed to brighten as the fae introduced themselves and she took it with no hostility and greeted them like people. Cassian decided he liked her despite the growing sense of something that bloomed within him. It felt a lot like meeting a polite version of Rhys.

When Feyre took her first few bites of her food and grimaced, Nyra noticed. “Are you alright?”

“Is there something wrong with our food?” With Nesta’s question came a wave of awkward silence.

“No.” Feyre took a huge gulp of her water. It was too evident that she was forcing herself to eat.

“So you can’t eat normal food anymore—or are you too good for it?” Nesta posed a question and a challenge. A challenge Feyre had accepted out of habit. A challenge that had Nyra putting her hand on her forehead in anticipated exasperation.

“I can eat, drink, fuck and fight just as well as I did before. Better-“

“Mind your manners, the both of you.” Nyra’s sharp tone cut in between. With a gentle yet strict tone, she addressed the youngest sister first. “Feyre, if you don’t want to eat or cannot eat due to any reason, don’t force yourself but that is no excuse for your foul language. Nesta,” She turned to her twin. “That is no way to talk to your sister even if you have your queries about why she is not able to eat well.”

“I’m sorry, Feyre.” Nesta sounded like a thoroughly scolded child now. The situation became even more surprising when Feyre gave out a similar sounding apology for her language. Elain seemed to be more at ease now that something familiar had presented itself—even if it was her sisters at each other’s throats.

Rhysand, despite his growing fury, somehow gathered himself to address Nesta. “If you ever come to Pythian, you will discover why your food tastes so different.”

“I have little interest in ever setting foot in your land, so I’ll have to take your word on it.”

“Nesta, please,” Elain’s plea went into deaf ears when said sister realised Cassian was looking at her. She angled her body towards him properly.

“What are you looking at?”

“Someone who let her youngest sister risk her life every day in the word while she did nothing. Someone who let a fourteen-year-old child go out into that forest, so close to the wall. Your sister died—died to save my people. She is willing to do so again to protect you from war. So don’t expect me to sit here with my mouth shut while you sneer at her for a choice she idd not get to make—and insult my people in the process.”

Cassian's words had everyone at the edge. Rhys was angry. Azriel was ready to intercept if a physical brawl began. With Nesta, it seemed like that was a huge possibility. Nesta seemed like she'd been born to fight and not to sit around like a proper lady. That seemed more like Elain but this one looked like she'd lost her appetite.

Nesta breathed once, looked at Cassian with the same fighting spirit that had risen in his bones and then turned away like he had never even spoken. Dismissed his entire existence. He was used to people cursing at him. Calling him a bastard. Calling him anything and everything. He was used to fighting and being fought against. Not at all used to being ignored, especially by the person sitting next to him.

Rhysand blinked once to process what had happened. Cassian had insulted Nesta and she had ignored him. Despite the anger rising at the truth of what his brother said, he did find the humour in the situation. Sitting next to him, Feyre coughed to the side, masking her laugh. Azriel couldn't help but smirk.

Nyra tried hard to control her laughter at Cassian's entirely feral expression upon being dismissed. She knew she had a bad habit of laughing at the wrong time. She looked around seeing how she could control it. The mischievous gleam in Rhysand's eyes was definitely not going to help. His grin was even more of an indication that she had chosen the wrong person to look at in this moment of tension between the two individuals who seemed like they could spit fire and claw into each other.

Nyra accidentally let out a laugh and then intentionally coughed thrice to cover her slip up. Her twin was immediately by her side, taking her hand and telling her to drink water. Nyra was sure she would spit it out because both Nesta and Cassian were now looking at her. And there was no way she would not laugh. She looked at Feyre whose eyes twinkled like Rhys's own. The youngest understood her predicament but she pretended not to. Azriel was smirking and she wanted to spit that water in his face to wipe off his smirk.

Despite living for more than five hundred years, Azriel felt like he had never seen a female before he saw Nyra Archeron for the first time. And he continued to watch her like he was seeing for the very first time how a female walked and talked and breathed. He was quite amused when she laughed and then pretended to cough. She would probably laugh again with how worriedly Nesta and Cassian were looking at her.

He felt everything more acutely than he had ever felt. He was a shadowsinger and those shadows told him everything. And he did feel things others did not. But this. The intensity of his own awareness alarmed him. He was suddenly aware of every breath everyone took. Every rustle of clothes. Every sound of cutlery. The sound of the food being chewed. And he could even hear his own heartbeat. It had changed slightly. The rhythm of it. He did not understand why or how. And another heartbeat. So soothingly familiar.

New shadows were now being born. They started from behind his neck. His shoulders and his hands. He noticed them only when he saw them circling his arms. Azriel knew he had left behind his shadows. Cassian was now looking at him with a raised brow and then motioned to the new shadows. He felt a gentle brush against his mental wards.

Didn’t you leave behind your shadows? Rhysand sounded confused. He had every reason to be.

Azriel himself was confused. I did. These were born just now as we started eating.

Rhysand left the compound of Azriel’s mind and the shadowsinger put up his shields. The High Lord did not know there could be newborn shadows. But then again, what did he know of shadows and shadowsinger’s except for whatever Azriel disclosed.

“What are those?” Elain’s question had everybody’s attention diverted to the newborn shadows.

“My shadows.” Azriel looked down at the black swirling around him as he answered. And then they slowly danced forward, slithering through the air towards the center of the table from where they took a sharp turn—towards Nyra.

“Pull them back.” Nesta demanded, deeming them to be a potential danger to Nyra. Azriel nodded her and willed for it but the shadows moved forward. They coiled themselves around her wrist and Nyra took her other hand to touch the shadows. They froze in place. And then they danced. Azriel could hear their cries of delight at being touched by her and he could not comprehend anything else.

Wordlessly, she continued playing with them, not bothering to see anyone looking at her with shock on their faces. Rhysand quickly looked back at Azriel who looked uncharacteristically shy.

“The queens,” Nyra began, still occupied with the shadows with faint amusement. Everyone was now listening. “Have recently had a conflict of interest. I believe one of them, the youngest, has been somehow pushed out of the picture.”

“How do you know that?” Cassian asked, receiving a glare from Nesta for speaking as he chewed his food. He seemed to revel in angering the fiery one among the twins.

“I saw a few letters. Wrote a few letters. Received a few letters. Sent a few replies. And so on and so on.” She rested her elbow on the table and lifted her hand. The shadows curled around her hand and stretched upwards. She smiled then. Azriel felt like something incredibly intimate had happened.

“Do you think a request for an artefact will be granted?” Nyra then looked at Rhys.

“The Book of Breathings?” Nyra’s mention of the book had Cassian drop his fork. “Are you alright?” She immediately turned to him and asked. The shadows froze when Nyra stopped playing with them.

Cassian sputtered a few apologies and took another fork from the cutlery stand in the middle of the table. He asked. “How do you know of the book?”

“I know of a few things.” She looked amused. Cassian shuddered at how eerily Nyra sounded like Rhysand whenever he kept secrets he did not ever want to divulge. The shadows around her arm made it seem like she fit the part. Like she could tame darkness and make it reveal whatever it concealed. She looked at the frozen shadows and gave them her hand again. She began moving her fingers slowly like how one would pet a cat. The shadows curled around them and Azriel felt their delight. "But that doesn't really help us right now. You will face far worse prejudices outside this house."

"How worse?" It was Elain who then answered Rhysand. She told him about how hard it is for the humans to accept fae due to their upbringing with all the stories about the fae crossing the wall to hurt humans. She gave the example of Clare Beddor and explained how disorienting it was.

By the end of her explanation, Elain felt a little brave. Like she achieved a milestone by talking to them. It was her personal success no matter how easily her sisters had done that. This was hers. And hers alone. Elain then addressed Cassian with newfound courage about what she had to say about Feyre hunting for their family.

"It was not Nesta's neglect alone that is to blame. We were scared, and had received no training, and everything had been taken, and we failed her. Her and Nyra."

Nyra's amused smile had vanished. She looked contemplative but was still playing with the shadows. Elain looked at her and knew how hopelessly she had neglected in contributing to the household during their days of poverty.

Feyre grabbed Nesta's hand and squeezed it slowly. "Can we just... start over?" She felt Nesta's pride war with Cassian's taunts, ready to take the bait with a bite that promised pain. But then Nesta agreed and Elain continued conversation.

"Can you truly fly?" Elain looked at Azriel who had been looking at Nyra and his shadows. He seemed fascinated by the one who brought such joy to his newborn shadows.

The shadowsinger looked at the gentle girl before replying. "Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We're born hearing the song of the wind." As though he felt it, Azriel looked over at Nyra who was now smiling at the shadows. Elain followed his gaze and watched her sister at the head of the table. Elain felt something in that gaze, the promise of something, perhaps more beautiful than the song of the wind. She felt a little more at ease, hoping that this feeling about whatever it was with Azriel and Nyra would remain and that this beautiful feeling would bless them.

"Song of the wind." Nyra repeated. "That sounds like a dream." Then she looked at all three men and asked. "But then how are you all so different?"

"How are we different?" Azriel asked, not quite understanding what she was getting at.

"Rhysand has pointed ears but the two of you don't. Azriel and his shadows." She raised her hands. "And Cassian doesn't have shadows. And Rhys doesn't wear seven gems like the two of you."

"I am what you would call a half breed." Rhysand announced, completely unbothered by how demeaning it sounded even when he was using the term to refer to himself.

"I don't think I've ever heard someone insult themselves so easily." Nyra looked at Rhysand with an expression of disbelief. Azriel coughed to disguise a laugh that had escaped him. Cassian did not even bother and laughed heartily.

Rhys chuckled. "I meant that I am half Illyrian and half High Fae."

"You look like High Fae," Nesta cut in, looking at Feyre. "But you're not?"

"Only the High Fae who look like them, are High Fae. Everyone else, any other differences, mark you as what they like to call 'lesser' faeries." Cassian explained. Nesta still did not look at him.

"It's become a term used for ease, but masks a long, bloody history of injustices. Many lesser faeries resent the term—and wish for us all to be called one thing." Rhysand sounded like he was used to talking about this subject and had thought about it for quite some time. Could be a few centuries since fae did probably live that long.

"Rightly so," Cassian raised his glass before drinking his water.

"But you were not High Fae—not to begin. So what do they call you?" Nesta's question sounded like something tiptoeing the lines of genuine curiosity and mockery.

"Feyre is whoever she chooses to be."

After Rhys had answered in Feyre's stead, Nesta examined all of them. She then told them to write their letter which the sisters would go and dispatch tomorrow. "And contemplate how you plan to get us all out of this mess should things go sour."

They discussed bedroom arrangements for the fae and then Nesta took one look at Nyra. Despite playing with the shadows, her twin's stare was too intense to be ignored. Nyra looked at her twin. Some silent form of communication began. None of the others ever understood how two people so unlike each other ever understood each other. But with one stare that lasted just a second, Nyra then turned to no one in particular.

"Shall we rise if everyone's done eating?" And that was dinner time.

****

While Nesta, Nyra and Elain washed the dishes, Rhysand wrote the letter while discussing with Feyre, Cassian and Azriel. They knew that this would not be the final draft and that they would have to stay up for a long time. Their discussions paused when the sisters started laughing and shrieking. The twins had started splashing droplets on each other while washing the dishes and Elain now felt fed up. She grabbed the two of them by the ear and took them to the sofa next to the table where Rhys had been stationed.

"If you're going to delay washing the dishes then don't even enter the kitchen." Elain put her hands on her hips and spoke determinedly and completely annoyed at her older sisters who acted more like children no older than ten. The twins muttered their apologies.

"The two of you are going to sit here while I get the work done." And with that, Elain spun on her heel and worked on the dishes. Feyre stood up, stating that he would like to help. Elain reluctantly accepted and they began washing the dishes without conversation.

Nesta and Nyra looked like a pair of petulant girls who had been forbidden from something they loved. And Rhysand looked thoroughly amused. "And why were you two splashing water?"

"She's a grumpy cat. Ignore her." Nyra looked at Nesta with equal amusement as her twin glared at Rhysand for even daring to ask a question.

"You said something about the queens and their internal discord. Could you share more?" Azriel's request had earned him a look of surprise and a smile from Nyra that had suddenly taken all his attention. The shadows that had briefly left her when she had left to wash the dishes returned to her. They settled around her shoulders, hands and waist like a child. And Nyra's gaze was a gentle one for the shadows. And she began narrating every detail she knew.

****

TAGLIST: @waytoomanyteenagefeels @impossibelle @esposadomd @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @judig92 @bunnyredgirl @sh4nn @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kattzillaa @ronnieglennn @wallacewillow0773638 @forgiveliv @justdreamstars @donttellthecats @cat-or-kitten @jojodojo02 @wandas-dream @evylynny

[wordswithloveee]

My folks are hilarious extroverts and have always been very supportive of all my artistic endeavors.

[alyslittlehaven]

“Do I look afraid?” Rhysand let out a scoff as Ezme stood infront of him, her frame towering over his as the wisps of moonlight wrapped around him.

“No…not afraid..” Rhysand finally looked over to her. His eyebrows lifting in surprise as she leaned down, her eyes glowing a bright white as the fae-lights around them flickered. Magic seeping off of her in waves.

“You look weak.”

Yet ANOTHER excerpt from my Azriel x reader fic I’m currently writing 🤭😩😩 (I love badass women.)

[azrielwingspan]

DISTRACTIONS (AZRIEL X OC)- PART 2

Distractions is a collection of short stories whose main characters are Azriel and Nyra (OC).

It's established that there is some heavy tension between them (everyone suspects lol) and I decided to put into words a few visualizations I've had of the both of them just pining for each other, playing hard to get, flirting, a bit of angst, some fluff and overall just being HELLA CUTE OKAY.

Part 2 of the collections of short stories!! No specific reading order to be followed.

PART -1

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Summary: An unexpected surprise during a mission injures Azriel and puts him in a foul mood. Nyra gets worried and tries to get information out of him.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, lots of tension, angst

"What happened?" Nyra asked staring wide eyed at the blood staining most of Nikolai , her best friends, leathers. Cassian had brought her up to the House of Wind only mentioning that something had gone terribly wrong with the mission.

"I don't know. It was a blur. Just..." Niko rasped shaking his head as if trying to clear his head. Letting out a deep sigh and holding his arm to his side, he shuffled towards his room passing by Nyra. "Let me sleep it off. I need to gather my thoughts. I'll speak to you tomorrow okay?"

She was about to ask him about his injuries but noticed Madja beckoning Niko towards one of the rooms turned into a temporary healers room. So she just nodded and gave him a small smile not wanting to delay his healing any further.

Standing in heavy silence, Cassian and Nyra watched Niko limp his way to Madja. She was hoping Cassian would bring up the other male that had gone on the mission but since he didn't seem to show any indication of doing so , she took matters into her own hands.

"Az?" she asked in low voice , not meeting Cassian's eyes instead choosing to keep her eyes trained on the healers door.

"In his room. Refused to answer as well. Locked himself in there and denied Madja's request to see him. He didn't seem as bad as Nikolai so I left him alone."

She let loose a small sigh of relief knowing that he was safe. Nikolai would be better by tomorrow as well. It could have been much worse, she told herself as her mind shifted gears and started conjuring up explanations for what could've gone wrong.

"You should speak to him." Cassian said breaking into her thoughts putting an abrupt stop to her theories.

"I thought he wanted to be alone?"

"He does...but something is off. I've seen him come back from missions in pieces and yet he would report to Rhys immediately. This is the first time he's just...off."

The concern she'd buried came back in full force until all she could think about was making sure he was alright.

She turned towards the staircase leading up to Azriel's room and set a fast pace. Almost tripping over the last stair, she came to a standstill in front of his door and hesitated.

Would he even open the door?

There was no time for silly thoughts. She had to make sure he was alright. Ignoring the hesitation and anxiety that was starting to drown her, she rapped firmly on his door.

She waited....and waited..... and waited some more.

Nothing.

She knew he was inside , the same way he knew she was outside his door. Knew that he was ignoring her. She ignored the phantom prick of pain that bloomed in her chest. Not the time to be selfish about her own emotions.

"Az....just let me take a look. Please." Maybe it was the weakness of her voice or the desperation towards the end because a beat later the door opened wide. The breeze from the open balcony doors carried the smell of blood, sweat and Azriels scent of night chilled mist and cedar.

Standing bare chested with a hand placed on the door frame, he looked at her with a cold face. "I'm fine." His voice was hoarse and carried a hint of barely restrained anger.

Her eyes roved over him checking for injuries and settled on his knuckles that were still stained with blood. The cuts on his face and chest seemed to have healed but he hadn't bothered to wash away the stains of red yet.

Eyes softening, removing the cold edge that had blazed through them , Azriel watched her extend a hand towards his free one. She was approaching slowly, as if giving him time to move away or slam the door on her face.

Cold fingers brushed over his knuckles lightly as she gazed up at him through her eyelashes "Let me help."

They stood apart, their breaths the only sound, on either side of the door. It seemed critical, that moment. She sensed that if she crossed the threshold into his room, things would change forever. He would be giving her a part of him that she would keep with her selfishly. She wanted it more than anything. She let all her emotions seep through her eyes, showing him the things she that didn't have the courage to tell him.

After what seemed like eternity, he moved aside letting her in. She released a breath she didn't realize she was holding and stepped over the threshold. She half expected sparks to go off and almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Clamping her lips shut, she directly headed towards the bathroom and filled a metal basin with warm water.

Azriel had locked the door again and was sitting on the floor in front of his bed with his head dropped between his bent knees. Nyra's heart clenched at the sight before her. What had happened?

Placing the basin on the ground, she sat next to him, delicately taking his hand and placed in on her lap. They stayed silent as she scrubbed the blood off his hands and his shoulders. He hadn't moved an inch, letting her maneuver herself around him. The sound of their breathing, the drip of water as she wrung the wash cloth and the brush of his skin against the cloth were the only sounds that surrounded them.

Once she was done with his arms, she shifted to place herself in front of him. Placing her palms on either side of his face, she lifted it slowly and sucked in a breath at the emotion in his eyes. Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court, who had mastered impasiveness had let his shield down. She saw everything and yet could decipher nothing.

He stretched out his legs, widening them further so that she could place herself closer to him. She tried to ignore the thudding of her heart against her chest. He kept his eyes trained on her as she gently but thoroughly removed all evidence of what had happened.

Neither of them failed to notice her heavy breathing or his fisted hands by his side. Neither of them failed to notice the thin thread of restrain they were holding on to. Neither of them failed to notice the charge in the air around them. Yet, neither of them acted.

"All done." she said with a breathy voice preparing herself to move away.

"Thankyou." he murmured huskily, his jaw clenching.

That was it then. That was that. She wiped down her palms on her pants and braced herself to stand up.

In a flash of a movement, Azriel wrapped his arms around her and she stumbled onto his lap bracing herself with her arms on his shoulders. His warm breath brushed against her lips, her heart thundering as her mind tried to catch up.

She wasn't looking at him. She couldn't. Absentmindedly rubbing small circles on his shoulders, she traced his Illyrian tattoo with her eyes.

Beautiful.

"Look at me." The command in his voice made her eyes shoot up and latch onto his, a spear of excitement striking her core.

"Why are you here?" he asked tightening his grip on her hips. The unexpected question shook her out of the daze.

"What?" she asked softly still confused.

"You heard me." Bringing a hand to her face, he pushed back a strand of her caught onto her lip. Nyra had short circuited. She didn't know what to focus on or how to focus for that matter. It felt like she had been dipped in cold water immediately followed by a hot water bath.

She was hanging onto her sanity by a thread. Fortunately, that thread cut off when Azriel buried his face in her neck and took in a deep breath. She arched towards him subconsciously , a soft gasp leaving her lips.

"I need you to use your words Nyra." his muffled voice commanded , his lips brushing her skin as he spoke.

"You know why." Her hands travelled from his shoulders to his chest leaving a trail of fire underneath her touch. Azriel held back a shiver. It was getting too much. The feel of her, the way she smelled, the sound of her voice....it was enough to make him do things he had only imagined in the dead of the night.

He trailed a line of soft kisses from underneath her jaw and felt her body press against his. The scent of her arousal hit him and it took every ounce of his willpower to not take her right then and there.

"You need to go." he said suddenly, pulling back from her. He woudln't meet her eyes. He couldn't. Nyra wouldn't respond. She couldn't let him hear the wobble in her voice as she tried to think of what went wrong.

So she just stood up, turned around and left.

PART 3

[littlest-w01f]

Chapter Eight

Series Masterlist

CW: Mentions of blood

The sun was high up as Evelyn skipped into the forest, she couldn't believe it, the young female had managed to sneak away from her home without her father knowing. Her little rebel heart was beating wild, for breaking her father's rule.

Skipping through the lush greenery, Evelyn felt the warmth of the summer sun baking her fair skin. She looked up at the vast expanse of blue overhead as birds chirped merrily around her.

The woods held an air of enchantment, wildflowers peeked through dew-soaked grass while trees whispered secrets with every rustling leaf. Even with her busy mind racing with thoughts about getting caught sneaking out without telling her family where she went, it brought immense joy being alone with nature.

Suddenly, hearing faint sounds coming from ahead stopped her playful skipping, keeping her eyes peeled for any suspicious movement the young fae sensed an unfamiliar presence nearby. Splashing water ripples made by someone paddling through a shallow creek startled her but also curiosity piqued.

The Nagas were meant to be frightening, or so she had heard, but this one, he was a young male naga stuck between some broken boulders and trees, he was struggling under foliage, clearly hurt, completely vulnerable, didn't look scary at all.

With her instincts kicked into high gear, Evelyn rushed towards the distressed naga, her heart pounding in her chest. As she approached, she could see blood trickling down his scales, mixing with the muddy waters of the creek.

"Poor thing!" She cooed, crouching down beside him to assess the extent of his injuries. His serpentine body was entangled, making it difficult for him to free himself from the twisted vegetation. Evelyn relaxed herself with a single breath, pressing her hands flat on the ground, bringing the dead trees to life, the naga's tail flicked the second she used the tree and thorn vines to pick up the boulders off him.

"I'm here to help you," She assured him in a soothing voice the second everything was off him, her warm hands caressing his wounded scales. As she worked, she noticed the naga's slit-like snake eyes flutter open, fixated on hers with a mixture of pain and gratitude. "Just hang on, okay?"

She pressed her hand over his bleeding scales, putting pressure, the naga hissed in pain and Evelyn looked at him apologetically, "Sorry, this might hurt." She closed her eyes, and her hand glowed over his scales, threading his scales back together.

Sensing the subtle hum of magic emanating from Evelyn, the injured naga trembled slightly but trusted in her ministrations. Despite the searing sensation, he remained still as the Fae wove her delicate spellwork, gently lacing his damaged scales together again. Slowly but surely, they began knitting back into place, tissues mending, bleeding stilled, their unnatural shine slowly returning after having been obscured by gore, slightly brighter from Evelyn's healing.

Though it was clear it caused the injured reptile intense discomfort, he endured quietly, offering quiet hisses of acknowledgement. "Thank… You, High Fae" He said once she was done sealing his wounds, a simple sentence spoken low yet filled with sincere gratitude that touched Evelyn's heart despite it coming from someone so unfamiliar.

Evelyn nodded, helping him sit up, "How... How did you end up like that...?" She feared she didn't want to know the answer.

"A Bogge." The naga hissed, "I... I was thrown to it. Stupid prank."

"A prank?" Evelyn's face scrunched in genuine disgust, "Why would anyone pull such a prank?"

"Doesn't matter." The naga slithered fast, sitting up over his own coiled tail, his tail wasn't that long, a show of his young age, "He just would've been the leader of our Den if I wasn't born... I guess this was his way to get rid of the first in line."

Evelyn's expression softened as compassion filled her eyes. She reached out, gently touching the naga's scales in a comforting gesture. "That must have been terrifying for you," she said softly.

He nodded, his forked tongue darting out to wet his lips as he regarded her thoughtfully. There was something vulnerable about him now, his defences lowered due to his vulnerability. "I thought I was going to die out here," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "And then you found me. Thank you, High Fae."

Evelyn smiled warmly, her hand remaining on his scales. "Of course, my name is Evelyn, by the way," she offered, hoping to start building a connection with the injured naga. "And you are?"

With a small chuckle, the naga replied, "My name is Kaelin. And thank you, Evelyn. For saving me, and for your kindness. I will not forget it"

"Chocolate?" Evelyn asked out of nowhere, holding a little piece of the treat.

Kaelin tilted his scaly head, a little amusement in his expression, "What?"

Evelyn frowned slightly, "Wait, do your people not have cocoa? Sorry... I didn't mean to be ignorant-"

"No no," Kaelin raised his hands straight up to soothe her, "We can have cocoa, just... Why? I guess, would be a better question."

"Well, cocoa makes everything better." With the way Evelyn smiled, Kaelin couldn't help but take the treat she offered.

Kaelin hissed softly in pleasure of the sweet treat, his scales beginning to feel hot and sickly against his body, feeling healthy again. "I should probably head back to my den soon," he explained, "It's not safe for me to stay out here too long."

Evelyn sighed sympathetically, realizing that her good deed might only be a temporary relief for Kaelin. "I understand," she said gently. "But before you go, can I walk with you? Just until we reach the edge of the woods? That way, I can make sure nothing else happens to you on your way."

A look of surprise crossed Kaelin's face at her offer. "Really?" he asked, sounding genuinely grateful.

They heard a rustling behind them, and both of them froze, they knew they shouldn't turn around, the Bogge seemed to have wanted to complete the job.

"We shouldn't acknowledge it... It can't hurt us that way." Evelyn whispered, trying her best to fight the urge to look at it.

Kaelin nodded, hissing softly in agreement. "We need to keep moving," he urged, starting to slither forward cautiously, Evelyn matching his pace, her hand still resting on his scales for comfort and support.

The forest grew eerily silent around them, the usual birdsong and rustling leaves replaced by an unsettling stillness. Yet, neither of them dared to break the silence, focusing instead on putting as much distance between themselves and the unseen creature following them.

As they neared the edge of the woods, Kaelin suddenly stopped, turning to face Evelyn. "You should run," he whispered urgently, his eyes wide with fear. "Now, while you still can!"

Evelyn made the mistake of turning to face Kaelin behind her, and the Bogge stepped out from a silver slit, she had made it come out. Her body chilled with fright, "You run. Just run. I'll manage my own way." She didn't want him to be around for when the Bogge lunged at them, not when it was her fault it was able to be free to kill them. "You should leave before my father sees you and you get into more trouble."

Before Evelyn could respond, the Bogge let out a chilling screech, its presence overwhelming as it spread its long, skeletal arms wide. Kaelin had a pained look in his eyes, but his eyes widened as he couldn't help but want to follow her order, he then knew she was royalty, a child of the High Lord.

In a flash of movement, he turned and bolted, his serpentine body undulating rapidly as he vanished into the underbrush. Evelyn stood frozen, her heart hammering in her chest as the Bogge began to advance towards her, its bony feet crunching through the decaying leaves. It was a choice between death and her father's punishment.

With lungs full of breath, as the Bogge rushed towards her, she screamed enough to shake the ground, "DADDY!!!"

Even before her shriek subsided, a growl was heard, but the Bogge was frozen from it, getting knocked over by the High Lord twice its size, maw ripping its neck, claws digging over and over in its chest till it stopped moving, the High Lord of Spring covered in blood looked up with fury in his eyes to meet the emerald of his daughter's.

Evelyn groaned, face pressed in her hands, "The damn Suriel! That was your plan to bring Tamlin and Feyre together? You sent Feyre after the damn Suriel?" Evelyn asked Lucien when he barged into her room.

Lucien sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "Feyre wanted to ask questions, and Tamlin… Well, he needed to stop being so damn stubborn. It sounded like a good idea."

"But sending her after a Suriel?" Evelyn shook her head in disbelief. "What were you thinking?!"

"She'll survive," Lucien pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest. "She'd scream if she needs us.."

"You sound so casual about it!" Evelyn exclaimed, throwing a pillow at Lucien’s face. "The fact that it was dangerous to begin with makes me nervous!"

She settled back down on her bed, hugging one of her many pillows close to her chest. "Do you really think Feyre wouldn’t panic?" she questioned Lucien sceptically. "Because last time I checked, our fearless, angry human hasn't been around faeries, especially not one like the Suriel. So now we're just supposed to hope that Feyre doesn't get herself killed?"

Lucien let out a sigh, looking a bit weary himself as he finally entered the room properly, making himself comfortable on the bed opposite hers. "Look, the girl managed to survive growing up in that hovel," he said. "Besides, Tamlin would hear with her too."

Evelyn sighed, nodding, she knew well enough the High Lords had quite the ear on them.

"When you said damsel in distress, I didn't think this is what you meant…" She started with another exasperated huff, tucking some loose strands of hair behind her ear. "If anything bad happened because of what we’ve set in motion..."

With an awkward shuffle, Lucien moved closer, laying beside her and offering a weak smile in her direction. "Eve…" He began, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. "If something does happens… It won't be your fault, only mine."

"It sounds terrible, though…" she murmured, chewing on her lower lip as she looked down at the cover of her current book. Even if things worked out fine, and Feyre somehow emerged unscathed from her encounter with the dreaded Suriel, there was no denying how risky Lucien's decision truly was. The idea of something happening to Feyre was worrisome and downright scary to Evelyn.

There was silence for a moment before a whisper of a scream was heard, Feyre, the sound came from deep in the forest and Evelyn stood up in an instant, she ran in a second.

Winnowing in from where she had heard the sound, the second her bare feet touched the ground, everything froze, letting herself take the scene. Feyre was trapped under a naga, Lucien's knife lodged into the naga's chest, bleeding all over Feyre. with a wave of her hand, vines grew from the ground, gripping the naga and throwing him against a tree. "ENOUGH!" Her voice was commanding, not a hint of anything else.

"Evelyn?" She heard a hiss and turned around to find Kaelin slithering behind her, "You know this human? What is it doing on this side of the boarder!"

"Kaelin?" Evelyn whispered, catching his snake-like eyes, she hadn't seen the male in centuries. "Why are you-"

The naga beside him opened his mouth to talk but they heard a roar, Tamlin had indeed heard Feyre's scream as well, launching on the naga, his claws digging into his chest.

"No, Tamlin stop!" Evelyn said sternly, her brother looked up, the same anger in his eyes she'd seen plenty of times, in their father's eyes, but he hesitated to let him go, "Please, let him go."

With a growl, Tamlin let the naga go, and he slithered behind Kaelin, with the other injured naga, "You will not hurt the human," Evelyn spoke, no denying the dominance in her tone, "The human belongs to me, to us. She's in our protection."

The ground seemed to tremble at her words and Tamlin moved to kneel in front of a shaking Feyre, clearly unable to hide how scared she had been, Tamlin picked her up gently, letting her stand on her feet, covering her entirely from the three nagas by his body.

"It's a human, you'd protect their kind?" Kaelin hissed, slithering close to Evelyn till he was nearly at arm's distance, leaning in still. Both of them had grown plenty from the last time they had seen each other centuries ago, Evelyn's showed with her powers, and height, her face slightly mature, while Kaelin's tail was at least ten times the size, his face and humanoid part of him rough from years. "They used to hunt our kind in groups, take out scales to make their silly armours!"

"Not this single one! She's innocent. You don't get to hunt her because of what humans when she wasn't even born did." Evelyn said right back, she was never one to back down, "You can't hurt her."

Kaelin was slightly taken aback by her tone, but then smiled, "I did not know the human was protected by the your kin, Princess Spring, consider this our apology." Kaelin sighed, forked tongue slipping out as he hung his head slightly in a bow, "Leave us!" He commanded the nagas, and they slithered away fast in front of their eyes, Kaelin remained.

"I see you're the leader now." Evelyn smiled, "Thank you, for sending them away."

"Of course, anything for the lady," Kaelin hissed with a grin of his own, "And yes, I could be the leader after this young High Fae healed me back when I was little."

Evelyn turned on her heel, "Must be a really nice High Fae..." She smiled, looking at Tamlin who was looking at her with his brows raised, "We're leaving as well Tam."

Tamlin offered Feyre his hand who took it soon, and the three winnowed out from the middle of the woods. Evelyn was the last to leave, giving Kaelin a gentle smile.

Dinner was always awkward after Feyre had arrived in Spring Court, but tonight it was more so, and Evelyn sat up as Feyre entered.

"Good evening," Feyre greeted, exchanging a look with Lucien.

"I heard you three had a rather exciting afternoon, I wish I could have been there to help," Lucien leaned back into his chair, with a little softness, he added, "Well you still look lovely, regardless of your Hell-sent afternoon."

"I thought faeries couldn't lie." Feyre snorted.

Tamlin choked on his wine while Lucien smiled his signature smirk, Evelyn felt concerned for the human, she'd blindly trusted everything they had said, "Who told you that?"

"Everyone knows it." Feyre piled her plate up with food, sitting down on her seat.

"Of course, we can lie." Lucien had a feline grin on his lips, "We find lying to be an art, and we lied to those aientient mortals that we couldn't speak an untruth. How else would we get them to trust us and do our bidding?"

Evelyn couldn't help but smile, Feyre's reaction to learning their secrets was nothing short of amusing, then Tamlin told Lucien off from spilling any more secrets.

The more Evelyn observed Feyre, the more she realized just how different the human was from other beings she had encountered. Feyre's resilience, her courage, her determination, and the slight stupidity that she would jump into anything without a single thought, It was all so refreshingly unique. And yet, Evelyn also noticed the subtle signs of exhaustion, the slight tremor in Feyre's hands as she lifted her fork that she was trying to hide, the faint shadows under her eyes. Despite her strength and spirit, Feyre was still very much mortal, vulnerable in ways that the High Fae weren't.

Watching Feyre, Lucien nudged Evelyn under the table with his foot, when she looked towards him he simply motioned with his head and the two of them excused themselves from dinner before dessert.

Once outside, Evelyn grabbed Lucien's arm, pulling him away from the dining hall and towards the quiet privacy of the garden.

"Well I hope you don't pull this shit with your children and their love life." Evelyn chuckled lightly.

Lucien snorted, wrapping an arm around her, "Our child," he corrected.

"My babe will not be your first," She rolled her eyes, "That was a joke we made."

"Sure... Sure..." Lucien teased.

Evelyn playfully pushed Lucien's chest, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You're impossible sometimes," she muttered, shaking her head in amusement.

Lucien grinned, leaning in "And you love me for it," he whispered his hand holding hers.

Evelyn smiled, her heart fluttering at his touch. "Sometimes," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But most of the time, I just want to throttle you."

Lucien chuckled, "That's the spirit," he murmured,

Evelyn raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a small smile. "Don't push your luck," she warned, although the playful spark in her eyes suggested she was far from serious.

Lucien laughed softly, pulling her closer until she was pressed against his chest. "Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured, his voice low and warm. His fingers traced gentle patterns over the curve of her waist, drawing her further into his embrace.

"I actually forgot this thing I used to do till I saw the naga." Evelyn whispered softly, leaning into Lucien's side.

Luicen simply hummed, "What might that be?"

Evelyn closed her eyes and opened her palm flat facing the sky, and a treat appeared in her palm, "Here."

"Chocolate?" Lucien echoed, taking the piece of it.

"Chocolate makes everything better." Evelyn spoke softly with a smile.

The world around them faded away as they stood beneath the stars, enveloped in each other's warmth and comfort. Lucien's touch was soothing, and reassuring, like a balm against the worries that plagued Evelyn's mind.

But even amid the intimacy of their embrace in her gardens, the looming concern over Feyre lingered at the edges of Evelyn's consciousness the feeling that something wasn't right stuck to her gut.

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