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illyrianbitch · 5 months ago

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Are We Still Friends? — Part Four

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: You navigate the aftermath of your confrontation. Azriel takes his first steps toward making things right.

Warnings: brief mentions of injury, bruises, and physical fighting. nyx being a cute baby. some fun introspection. reader is tired and overwhelmed. az is honest and open (hallelujah)

Word Count: 7k+

Part Three | Series Masterlist | Part Five

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Rhys was trying to be serious.

He truly, truly was.

From behind his polished desk, he looked every inch the High Lord—back straight, jaw tight, fingers drumming against the wood. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again, as though he couldn’t decide where to start.

You shifted in your seat, your body aching in strange places from the fight. The cut on your cheek throbbed and the bruising across your knuckles made every twitch of your fingers tender. But none of it compared to the strain in your cheeks—from holding back a laugh.

Feyre was perched on the arm of a chair beside you, Nyx cradled in her arms, his tiny fingers gripping the fabric of her flowy blouse. She wasn’t looking at you—refusing to, actually. Her gaze was locked firmly on her son, her lips pressed together in a trembling line, but you could see the corners twitching with suppressed amusement. You kept your gaze on her, waiting until the burn of your stare would render too hot for her to ignore.

It didn’t take long.

Feyre’s resolve crumbled as soon as her eyes met yours. She let out a laugh—sharp and bright and loud in the too-quiet room.

Rhys’s head snapped up. “Feyre, please. Not you too.”

Not you too. Morrigan had found the situation just as amusing.

Her laughter only grew, and Nyx joined in, making incomprehensible happy gurgles in response to his mother’s amusement.

“I’m sorry,” she said, though she didn’t sound sorry at all.

She passed Nyx to your open, offering arms, and crossed the room, wrapping her arms around Rhys’s neck. Her cheek brushed against his as she murmured—loud enough for you to hear, “You have to admit it’s funny.”

Rhys groaned, glancing at you. He opened his mouth, probably to protest, but you cut in, your voice laced with mock sternness as you bit back a smile. “Yeah, Rhys. You have to.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” he replied, fixing you with a look. “It is not funny.”

You gasped dramatically, adjusting Nyx in your lap and covering his tiny,pointed ears. “Don’t teach your son it’s okay to lie.”

Another groan. A hand dragged down his face, but his lips twitched as though fighting a losing battle. Finally, with a resigned shake of his head, he muttered, “Alright. Fine. It’s funny. But—

His words faltered.

“I am sorry,” you offered, filling the silence. You raised your free hand solemnly. “I lost my cool. That’s my bad. But in my defense, she really had it coming.”

Rhys casted a look at Feyre, who was leaning against the desk now, a smile still tugging at her lips. He shook his head again, sighing. “Maybe so,” he conceded, “But I can’t have our court’s emissary beating one of our citizens in broad daylight. It’s not a great look.”

“It wasn’t broad daylight,” you corrected, your attention shifting to Nyx as you untangled your hair from his iron grip, grimacing as the motion pulled at your scalp. “The sun was setting by the time we were done.”

Feyre let out another laugh, the sound powerful enough to pull a snort from her.

“And,” you added, “It was, at most, semi-private.”

“Unbelievable,” Rhys muttered, though there was no real heat in it.

Nyx babbled again, his chubby hand reaching for your hair once more.

“Okay, alright,” you said, straightening in your chair. The ache in your body flared as you moved, but you ignored it, your focus on Rhys. “You’re right, Rhys. I have a title and an image to uphold. I should’ve acted better. Tell me how to fix it, and I will.”

Rhys’s gaze lingered on you, as if the longer he stared at you, the easier words would come. Then he leaned back in his chair, his attention flicking to Feyre. They were in each other’s minds, you realized, talking in that way only they could. You could pick up the signs now, even subtle—a faint twitch of her lips, the softening in his gaze, even the rhythm of their blinks syncing up.

Finally, Rhys looked back at you, then down at Nyx, who was still babbling in your lap. When his gaze returned to yours, there was a thread of warmth beneath his voice. “You’re the most, objectively, rational of us all. If you say there was reasoning, then I believe you.”

You gave him a grateful smile.

“We just have to prepare for some damage control,” Feyre said. “It’s not exactly comforting for our citizens to see three of their highest-ranking officials fighting in the streets.”

“Three?” You frowned. “What—”

You were cut off as the door creaked open. All three of you turned as Mor stepped in, a large grin on her red painted lips. She was holding something small in her hand, and when she held it up, the light caught on the all-too-familiar jewelry.

“Don’t forget. She also found these,” Mor sang as she entered fully. She tossed two bracelets into the air, catching both effortlessly before holding them up again for emphasis. “So, I think that’s enough for a pardon.”

Rhys stood, crossing the room in a few long strides as Feyre followed. He took one of the bracelets from Mor, inspecting it carefully.

“What did you find?”

“What Y/n heard was right,” Mor said, rolling the other bracelet between her fingers. “It’s a simple listening charm. Very basic.”

Rhysand hummed. “And how does it work exactly?”

“It’s an anchored spell.”

“What does that mean?” Feyre asked, frowning. “An anchor?”

“It means the spell needs an anchor to function—a tether to keep it active and contained. Like a balloon tied to a string.” Rhys explained, his tone turning clinical. “It’s simple magic. The charm was designed to spy on whoever it was bound to.”

“And it was bound to who? Az?”

”Actually,” Mor said. She nodded towards you. “It was bound to Y/n.”

You weren’t paying full attention, not as you played a game of tug-of-war with Nyx and a strand of your hair. When the words finally hit you, you blinked, glancing between Mor and the bracelet in her hand. “What? On me?”

Mor nodded once more as Rhysand said, “Interesting.”

”And this was in Azriels room?” Feyre asked, looking over at you.

“One of them,” you confirmed. “The other Selene was wearing.”

Feyre’s gaze flicked to the cut across your cheek. “So she put it in Azriel’s room, but bound it to you?”

“No one tends to go into Az’s room.” Rhys frowned. “So she was only interested in conversations you were a part of.”

Of course. A bitter laugh bubbled up, but you clenched your jaw, forcing it down. You reminded yourself of what you’d seen earlier— the insecurity, rather than the malice you’d anticipated. Still, a certain annoyance lingered. Was her relationship with Azriel so fragile that she couldn’t talk to him? Were you so unapproachable that she couldn’t come to you? Instead, she planted a charm. To spy.

”Can I see it?” You asked.

Mor stepped forward, holding it out, and Nyx reached for it first, his tiny fingers desperately grasping at the shiny surface.

“This isn’t for you, buddy,” Mor cooed, crouching slightly. “This is Aunt Y/n’s special bracelet from her secret admirer.”

You shot her a flat look. “Secret admirer, my ass.”

Mor grinned, but her gaze flicked over you briefly, her teasing dimmed by something else—concern, maybe. Feyre stepped forward, lifting Nyx from your lap as you examined the bracelet.

“So what do we do with it now?” You glanced up at Mor.

“I can pay Helion a visit. Break the charm.”

“Alright,” Rhys said, the word accompanied by a considering hum. “But first, let me talk to Selene and Runa—Runa was the other one, right?”

Hearing her name sent a wave of irritation coursing through you. Your grip on the bracelet tightened instinctively as you nodded, the cool metal digging into your palm. You held it out for Mor to take, watching as she then took the second one back from Rhys. He studied you for a moment, his gaze drifting to your clenched fists.

“You’re just too great,” He said with a small grin. It was very father-like in its presentation, like he was trying to cheer up a sad child. “It’s intimidating.”

You rolled your eyes, but his attempt worked— the easy cadence chipping away at the tension in your shoulders, managing to coax a reluctant smile to your lips. “So I’ve been told.”

Your attention shifted to Feyre as she rocked Nyx gently in her arms. His soft breaths had already settled into the rhythm of sleep, and something in you softened at the sight. Your smile deepened, this time warmer, more genuine. Feyre caught your gaze, then glanced at her mate.

“It’s his bedtime,” she murmured, her attention returning to you. “And maybe you could use some rest too.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Mor cut you off, her hand already brushing against your arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said softly, though there was no room for argument in her tone.

“I’m fine,” you tried to insist, but she gave you a look, leading you out of Rhysand’s office. You gave both him and Feyre a quick goodbye.

“Walk or winnow?” Mor asked once you were in the hall, tilting her head.

You thought it over for a brief moment. “Winnow,” you replied.

She nodded in agreement, the corners of her lips curving upwards. “Probably for the best,” she said, “Wouldn’t want you to find another citizen to fight on the way home.”

You moved to swat at her arm in mock indignation, but she was already gone, her laughter echoing faintly as she winnowed away.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Mor was humming a small tune as she led you to your bedroom. She had a few more items in her hand since the last time you saw her, only a few moments prior.

“Sit,” she instructed, nodding towards your bed. Without waiting for a response, she pulled your chair from the small desk, its legs scraping sharply against the floor. Usually, you might've winced at the sound, but tonight it barely registered. You were too tired, too lost in your own thoughts to be fully aware of your surroundings.

You lowered yourself onto the edge of your bed, hands folded in your lap, watching as Mor set her haul on your bedside table: a first-aid healers kit and a small jar with a golden lid, the faint scent of herbs already wafting from it.

“Whats that?” you asked, motioning towards it as Mor sat down.

“I stopped by Majda’s earlier,” Mor replied, grabbing the jar and offering it to you.

You gingerly took it, running your fingers along the small glass. A healing balm, you gathered from the label, crafted and spelled to sooth the tenderness of injuries. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” she replied, fixing you with a look. She held her hand out in a silent request, and you granted it, placing the jar back in her soft palm. “I ran into Adrin while I was there, too.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. I think he has a crush.”

Your brows furrowed. “On you?”

“No,” Mor laughed. “On you.” She twisted the lid off, the scent growing stronger, fresher. “This was practically free when I mentioned your name. He says hello, by the way.”

You rolled your eyes at the tone of her voice, at the small quirk in her lip. “How generous of him.”

Adrin was one of Madja’s recent apprentices, a male from the Dawn Court. Over the past year, you’d developed a sort of friendship with him—inevitable, given how often you stopped by Madja’s for elixirs, balms, or to request healing for one of your family members. Adrin was sweet in a way that stood out, especially for someone of his stature and wealth. Humble, easy to talk to. You’d always enjoyed your small conversations with him, none of which had ever felt particularly flirtatious.

But Mor liked to do this—tease you about romantic prospects where there were none.

“He seemed very sad to hear you were hurt,” she teased, dipping her fingers into the balm. “Here. Give me your hands.”

Reluctantly, you stretched out your hands, knuckles bruised and raw. She took them, her touch gentle as she worked the balm into your skin. It stung at first, then cooled, easing the ache.

“He’s cute,” Mor said lightly, noting your silence. “You should consider it.”

“Mhm,” you replied, not really listening. “Maybe.”

Mor glanced up at you, her hands pausing briefly before she resumed. “What are you thinking about?”

You shrugged and stared down at your hands, tracing the patterns of Mor’s thumbs as she smoothed over the worst of the bruising. “I don’t know. The whole thing, I guess.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t just beat them both.”

A small laugh slipped from you, unexpected. You were quite proud of how diplomatic you’d managed to be given the circumstances— though, you were sure diplomatic wasn’t the word Runa would use.

“I think,” you began, “I just figured it wasn’t worth it. At least with Selene, it wasn’t personal. There’s nothing I could’ve said to her that’d be worse than what I imagine she already tells herself. Runa just… said the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

Mor nodded with an amused smile, tilting your chin up with a finger so she could dab the balm along your jaw. On a hit you hadn’t even noticed until it started throbbing an hour later.

“Still. A listening charm is kind of insane,” she said. Her tone was measured, but you caught the edge of anger beneath it. “Can you imagine what else she could’ve heard?”

Your chest tightened. You nodded. Although not to the extent you might usually have, you had thought about it—the implications of the bracelet, the act Selene had committed, the idea Runa had planted. It was almost laughable. Your court was condemned for its supposed cruelty, led by a High Lord as infamous as Rhysand, yet citizens still felt emboldened enough to pull stunts like this. In any other court, Selene and Runa would’ve faced very different—more permanent—consequences.

“I don’t want to think about it too much,” you replied after a moment. “I’ll just get angry, and I’m kind of over that. It’s exhausting.”

“You’re better than me,” Mor muttered.

“Not really. I’m just tired.” You said simply. “Selene did a bad thing. She’s lucky it didn’t cause a serious disaster. I don’t feel the need to play the Mother’s role. Rhys will deal with her.”

Mor sat back, a faint grin tugging at her lips. “And in the meantime, I get pretty jewelry.”

You raised a brow.

“What?” Her grin widened. “Like we told Rhys, it’s only a basic listening spell. If I’m in possession of both charms, and I’m not talking to you, then no one’s hearing anything.”

“And if you lose one?”

She raised an eyebrow, slowly twisting the cap back onto the jar. “I won’t,” she replied simply. And you knew that was the end of the conversation. Mor guided your head to the side, leaning in to inspect the cut across your cheek.

“That bitch got you good, though,” Mor muttered. She touched it gently, and you grimaced. “All this from that bracelet?”

“It was chunky,” you replied dryly. “And I think Runa split it open much further.”

Mor scowled. “If I see her, she's as good as d—”

“Mor.”

She sighed dramatically. “At least tell me you got her good.”

You gave her a look and her grin widened. “Gods, I love you,” she said, shaking her head. “You might be the most terrifying one of us all when you’re angry.”

A smile tugged at your lips, the faint pull of it brushing against the ache in your cheek. The sound of a laugh started to rise in your chest when a low voice cut through the moment.

“I would agree.”

You jumped, and your head snapped toward the doorway— where Azriel now stood.

Your chest tightened at the sight of him, the moment’s levity collapsing under his presence. Instinctively, your eyes ran over him, taking in every detail. He looked tense, wings drawn in tight to his back, his posture stiff. Shadows hung close to him, unnervingly still. Disheveled, too—his hair was a mess and faint bruises bloomed along his face. His hands were hidden by his shadows, but you’d bet they bore the same marks as yours. Three officials, Feyre had said. You now knew the second.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

Mor snickered beside you, drawing your attention just as her brows lifted in amusement. She turned away from him and faced you instead. “You hear that, Y/n? He’s sorry.”

You raised your own brows, gaze flicking back to him. “So those words do exist in your vocabulary.”

The bite didn’t feel as satisfying as it should have. It felt hollow, old. Azriel’s jaw tightened, his chest rising as he drew in a measured breath. After a moment, he stepped forward. His gaze lingered on you for another moment before he turned to Mor.

“May we have a moment alone?”

Mor’s eyes narrowed, the sharpness in her gaze dragging over him like a knife. She didn’t answer right away, looking back to you instead, searching your face for permission. Despite yourself, you gave her a small nod.

Her displeasure showed in the faint widening of her eyes, but she stood anyway, brushing her hand against yours in passing. Her touch was soft, careful not to press too hard against the bruises. “Love you,” she murmured. “Let me know if you need anything else tonight.”

You gave her a small smile, nodding again as she walked past Azriel. His shadows recoiled from her, drawing a dark outline along his arm. She casted one last glare over her shoulder.

“Idiot,” she muttered, loud enough for both of you to hear. Then she was gone.

The silence she left behind felt suffocating, a heavy thing that settled over the room. You avoided Azriel’s gaze, focusing instead on the healer’s kit sitting on the bedside table. You reached for it, but Azriel held up a hand to stop you.

“I can do it myself,” you said.

“I know,” Az replied softly. “But let me. Please.”

You hesitated. He looked troubled, guilt heavy in his expression, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The conversation had been inevitable, long overdue. Might as well get it over with while he tended to the cut on your cheek.

Besides, you were too exhausted to care.

“Fine.”

Azriel gave you a small, unsure smile—grateful, almost. He disappeared to the bathroom, and when he returned, he sat with a wet rag in hand.

You tried to hold on to your anger, to avoid his eyes, but your resolve began to falter the moment his shadows began to twist around your arms. They moved languidly, curling up your wrists and brushing your fingers as you played with your hands in your lap. You focused on them instead of him— on their quiet presence, the personality in them that so few ever noticed. You’d missed the way they felt like him.

Azriel began unpacking the kit—clean cloths, antiseptic. The smell made your nose scrunch. You took in the bruising on his face—on his cheek, a split near his eyebrow, even on his lip. Strange, strategically unplaced.

“What happened to you?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

“Cassian happened.”

And there it was— the third official. You wanted to probe for more details, were even tempted to make a joke out of his current appearance, but your irritation held you back. You stayed silent as he cleaned the wound, as he dried it. When he soaked another cloth with antiseptic, he looked at you.

“I owe you a big, proper apology.”

You didn’t look at him, even as his words pulled at you. “Yeah.”

He paused— like he was thinking, like he was ashamed— and took a deep breath before he said, “Many, actually.”

You didn’t respond. You just nodded, watching him from the corner of your eye. When the cloth touched your cheek, you winced. He grimaced, eyebrows furrowing in apology.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

Another pause.

“You were right,” he said, his focus staying on your cheek. “And I should have listened to you.”

This time, the pull of his voice was strong enough to draw your attention. As he leaned closer to begin cleaning the cut, you studied his face—the sharp line of his jaw, the crease in his brow as he worked with precision.

“I’m always right,” you muttered, and the words had more mirth than you’d expected. You supposed that was natural with Azriel, an instinct of sorts. Even when you were unhappy with him. “You’re going to have to be specific.”

Something softened in his expression—just for a second. But you saw it. You could’ve sworn you saw the faintest hint of a smile tug at his lips, heard a soft breath of amusement. His molten eyes met yours briefly.

“You were right about Selene.”

Your chest tightened. You didn’t know why, but his gaze burned. You couldn’t hold it for long and looked back down at your hands, letting the shadows weave between your fingers. You wondered what information Az knew— wondered who told him. If it was Mor who had talked to Cassian, if it was Cassian who then, in turn, had given Azriel the whole story. Had they fought beforehand? What for?

“I broke up with her,” Azriel added. “When I heard about what happened.”

You looked up, but Az’s gaze was no longer on you. “You did?”

He nodded. You tracked the bob in his throat as he swallowed.

“There’s no coming back from what she did.”

Azriel set the cloth aside, carefully wiping away the excess antiseptic. He seemed unnervingly calm for the situation—for the invasion of privacy from someone he’d been intimate with. You’d expected something more. Anger like you’d seen with Eris, confrontation like he’d shown Lucien. But, instead, he was gentle. Maybe it should’ve bothered you, that he seemed so unphased at your current state. It didn’t. If anything, you were grateful. You would’ve been too tired to deal with anything else.

You studied him closely. This side of him—tender, unguarded—wasn’t a side he let many see.

Your thoughts wandered back to Selene. It made sense, in a pathetic, strange way, why she might have done what she did. If she’d seen this side of him, this kindness, this care... how could she not have wanted to protect it? How could she not have gone to extremes to keep it?

You thought about it for a moment. Came to the realization that the love Azriel offered was probably worthy of madness.

“Because she spied on you?”

It was a stupid question. But the urge to ask had persisted, so you voiced it anyway. Azriel stilled, his hand pausing mid-motion. Slowly, he turned to look at you.

“No,” he said, his voice softer. “Because she hurt you.”

His words landed with a force that sent your thoughts spiraling.

“Although,” Azriel added quickly, “The spying was definitely a dealbreaker.”

He was making a joke, you realized. Or a small attempt at one. And somehow, it settled something restless in your chest.

“She didn’t mean to,” you heard yourself say before you could stop it.

The moment the words left your mouth, you cursed yourself. What the hell were you doing? You had no obligation. No reason. It was counterproductive, if anything. Rhys was bringing her in. You had every right to trash her, right here, to Azriel himself. To tell him over and over that you told him so.

But you didn’t. Maybe it was because she’d mattered to him—enough for him to trust her despite the flaws that had undone her. Even if that truth made your chest ache, you wanted him to make his decision with all the facts.

Your care for Azriel wasn’t something led by your pride.

“Selene didn’t mean to hurt me,” you said again, more certain this time. “It was an accident.”

His eyes softened as he observed you. You swallowed and shrugged. “Runa was the one who actually did.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Azriel said. “You were in that situation because of Selene.”

A beat.

“Because of me.”

The air between you thickened. You tried to focus on anything else, anything but the way your chest tightened, the way your heart thudded faster than it should. But you couldn’t. Your eyes stayed locked with his.

You thought about the past week, how something had shifted between you. The distance that had grown, how long it had taken him to reach out. Azriel was someone who didn’t apologize easily. You knew that. But it hurt in ways you didn’t expect because you’d always thought you were different. That your friendship, your bond, was worth the discomfort.

You thought he’d make it right. That he wouldn't have let it fester for as long as he did, wouldn’t have felt comfortable leaving you simmering in your hurt.

“Az?”

The name escaped your lips unguarded, and his face softened at the sound of it. His wings shifted too, just slightly, like tension bleeding out. You hadn’t said his name like that—without anger, without bitterness—for days.

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you actually apologize earlier?”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, and his gaze flicked down, as if the answer was there, somewhere in the floor. “I—I didn’t know how.”

You let out a breath—annoyance, defeat, something too messy to untangle. “It’s actually really easy,” you muttered. “You just open your mouth and say the words ‘I’m sorry for being a dick.’”

There was a soft shuffle as Azriel leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. He tilted his head, trying to meet your averted gaze.

“Y/n,” he said softly. “I’m sorry for being a dick.”

You let the words settle for a moment before sitting up straighter. Met his eyes once more. You raised a brow, unimpressed. “A bit late, don’t you think?”

Azriel didn’t move, his eyes meeting yours steadily. He was closer now—close enough that you could almost feel his presence like a tangible, heavy thing. His shadows stirred, curling around your fingers, then shifting toward his hand. They tangled between you both, like they were tying you together, threading through the space that separated you.

“It is,” Azriel said. He looked down the second his words hit the open air. It reminded you of repentance, like a sinner confessing to a priestess. His hands rubbed together before he clasped them into a fist, looking up again.

Even then, his thumbs kept moving, brushing over each other in a way that gave him away. He was nervous.

“I messed up,” he said. “I knew I did the minute I repeated what Selene told me. But I’d messed up so badly that I felt like an apology needed to be big enough to make up for it. I couldn’t think of anything.” He took a shallow breath. “I—I was embarrassed.”

You frowned. For Azriel, who stood in front of you, unwavering in the face of so many enemies, embarrassment seemed almost foreign.

“Embarrassed?”

“Yes.” His voice was quiet as he admitted it.

“What could you possibly have to be embarrassed about?”

Azriel’s face shifted, his eyes looking almost vulnerable, wide open, like you could see everything. Even his shadows slowed to a faint crawl. They seemed to be waiting for something. You weren’t sure what.

“That you were right. I was changing. For her. And I did it on my own.”

“What?” You barely breathed out, confused. “Why?”

“I just…” He hesitated, his eyes lowering. “I thought it might be for the better. That maybe this relationship, maybe Selene, could mold me into something else, something more…” He trailed off.

“More what?”

“Something—someone, more easy to love.”

Your breath faltered, and for a second, everything froze— like the sheer sadness in his voice was enough to freeze time. And then you were flooded with emotions, each different from the one that came before. Confusion. Anger. Pity. Heartbreak. You felt a deep, hollow ache at the idea that he truly believed he needed to change to be loved.

For the first time, you weren’t sure what the right thing to say was. If there was one at all. All you could do, in the most genuine tone you could muster, was say, “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Azriel’s gaze faltered, his expression shifting as though he wasn’t quite sure how to process your reaction. You glanced at his hands, pushing the rush of emotions back, then met his eyes again.

“You should never feel like you need to change. Not like that.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but his eyes softened, and you found yourself focusing on the crease between his brows. It made him look so tender. So young.

Finally, he spoke again. “I was having a bad day that night you came to talk to me. I didn’t realize how I’d hurt you. I thought I just pissed you off, that you were angry.”

“Well, you did piss me off,” you said, your anger bubbling up once more. His expression faltered slightly at that, but you continued, “I’m still angry. You were dismissive. You made me feel selfish, like I didn’t have the right to care about you.”

The words caught in your throat, threatening to stick, but you pushed them out. You’d spent centuries enduring criticism from males in Prythian politics—males who dismissed your input no matter how educated or experienced you were. You knew how to let their opinions roll off your back, not to let them settle. But you never thought Azriel would be the one to hurt you. Make you feel silly. Stupid. Small.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, and his eyes darted away as if he was trying to find the right words. “It was all so stupid. I can’t believe I entertained her ideas—that I let my desire to be needed make me accuse you of having ulterior motives when you were just being a good friend.”

A good friend.

That was exactly what you were trying to be—and yet, the word hurt you. It made you want to wince like you had when Azriel pressed that rag to your cut. You thought back, unwanted, to Selene’s words, and your chest tightened even more.

Was it possible for the room to be losing air? Maybe that would explain the stupid decisions you’d been making. The thoughts you could feel in the back of your mind. A lack of oxygen to your brain.

“So why did you believe her?” you asked quietly. Your voice sounded more tired now.

“I don’t know,” he admitted after a long pause. “It doesn’t change what I did. It was cruel. It belittled you. And I’m sorry.”

You stared at him, at the set of his shoulders, the faint downturn of his mouth. He was sincere—you could feel it in every word, in the way his eyes stayed fixed on you, like nothing else existed in the room. You didn’t think you’d ever had someone apologize like this before, so open and raw.

And yet, something inside you still simmered. The anger hadn’t disappeared. Not yet.

“Thank you,” you murmured, “For apologizing.”

Azriel didn’t move. He kept looking at you, really looking at you, and you felt pinned beneath the weight of his gaze. His eyes had more green than Cassian’s. It wasn’t something you usually noticed—how the colors shifted in the light, how clear and startling they seemed up close. Now, though, you couldn’t seem to stop noticing, like every detail of him was suddenly magnified.

You wanted to stay angry. You deserved to. He’d hurt you, and that kind of hurt didn’t just disappear because he finally decided to show up and say the right things. But then his gaze held yours a little too long, his voice a little too raw, and that tightrope you’d built for yourself began to fray. A sharp sting of guilt came, and you couldn’t shake it—couldn’t shake the growing realization that maybe you didn’t want to be angry at him. Maybe it wasn’t even anger anymore.

You cleared your throat as Azriel shifted his attention back to the kit, his shadows curling and shifting behind him. He grabbed a few butterfly bandages, his voice quiet when he spoke.

“You’re better to me than I deserve,” he said, almost to himself. “I think I convinced myself that it was a matter of time until the ball dropped—until you realized I wasn’t worth this friendship. I thought I’d finally reached that point. I almost just laid down and accepted it.”

You frowned at his words.

Azriel always carried that shadow of self-loathing like a second skin, like he couldn’t believe anyone could see him as more than his darkest thoughts. As much as you wanted to heal him, to assure him that none of it was true, you knew better. It hurt to know that, after everything, he still didn’t believe it. Because, the truth was, Azriel wasn’t hard to love. It wasn’t hard to support him, to be his friend. He had his moments, as anyone did, but he was always there. Which, you supposed, is why the way he treated you hurt in such a deep, unique way.

The thought that he’d believed, deep down, that your friendship—your loyalty—could be so easily withdrawn, made something inside you ache. Made you sad. Angry.

“I take back what I said earlier,” you murmured. “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Azriel’s lips twitched as he searched your face for any hint of a joke. His shadows perched on the apex of his wings, watching you both. Then, when his lips curled, just slightly, they began to move once more.

“I have my moments,” Azriel said, a half-smile playing at the corner of his lips. He glanced at you, checking if it landed. “Maybe one too many head injuries is getting to me.”

“Maybe,” you said, the hint of a smile brushing your lips. “In that case, we should keep an eye on Cassian.”

Azriel’s breath escaped in a quiet, almost relieved laugh. He carefully removed the butterfly bandages from their small packs, the silence settling around you once more. But the air felt heavy, like there was something unspoken hanging between you. Like you needed to say something to rid yourself of the pressure in your chest.

“You can’t just lay down and accept it, Az,” you said, your voice firm. His eyes snapped to yours. “That’s not what friendship is. Not ours.”

Azriel nodded, his expression softening. “I know. I’ll do better.”

You smiled faintly, nodding back. Watching as he turned his attention back to the bandages on your cheek, you took a slow breath. His scent washed over you as he leaned in, familiar and warm. For a moment, you almost let yourself close your eyes, just to breathe him in further, to let his scent linger. Had it always been like this? Or had Selene’s words made you overanalyze everything?

“I was shocked when Cassian told me what happened. I can’t believe that while I was busy kicking myself for not doing anything, you were trying to talk to Selene. Trying to be kind. Do you realize how crazy that is?”

His words weren’t disbelief—they were awe. As if he couldn’t comprehend why you’d chosen the harder path, the path of peace. You could barely believe it yourself, sitting with a scratched-up face and a mind full of unwanted revelations. But in the end, it had been simple.

You’d done it for Azriel.

You’d found sympathy for her because of Azriel. You’d set aside your anger, your pettiness, because you valued your relationship with Azriel more. Even after everything, after the way he’d treated you, you still believed in him. Believed in his ability to know what he wanted.

“Your happiness was worth it,” you said finally. “I didn’t want to be the one to stand in the way of it. To make things hard.”

Azriel stopped at that, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel exposed in a way you’d never felt before with him. You shrugged it off, trying to play it cool, and added with a dry chuckle, “Also, I figured if I did the noble thing, I’d get to hold it over you for a few centuries.”

Azriel laughed—a genuine, rumbling sound. His shadows fluttered around him. “Yeah, well, you can. More than a few centuries, actually, because you came out with some battle scars.”

You almost spoke again, but the breath left your lungs as you felt his fingers gently press the butterfly bandages to your skin. It was almost funny to think about how angry you’d been—rightfully so. But now, with the feel of his hands on you, it all began to ease. A specific sense of healing, like the betrayal you’d felt—at least in part—was being mended. That Azriel tending to you now, with the soft touch he so rarely granted, proved that he didn’t mean to hurt you. That he did care. And maybe you could give him a little grace for being a flawed male.

When Azriel turned back to the kit, you touched your cheek, feeling the cut deeper than you expected. You hadn’t realized how long it was. Mor’s earlier reaction made more sense now.

Azriel glanced at the wound, then back at you, brow furrowing. “Is it okay?”

You nodded slowly, a soft breath escaping as you winced slightly. “Yeah, just tender. Thank you.”

He nodded in acknowledgment and moved to place the last bandage. And then, almost too quietly, he murmured, “I’m sorry I hurt you. I really am.”

“I know.” You hesitated before adding, “But you’re going to have to make it up to me. You know that, right? This wasn’t enough.”

Azriel steadied his gaze on you, leaning back to face you fully. Suddenly, you weren’t sure if anyone had ever looked at you properly. Not like this. Not as he said, “I will. I promise. In ways that are better than some baked goods.”

“Well… I wouldn’t mind some croissants. They looked good.”

Azriel chuckled. “Oh really?”

Soft tendrils of his shadows weaved around you as you nodded, biting back a smile at the tone of his voice. Something so lively. So Azriel. Although you were used to them, you resisted the urge to shiver as his shadows threaded through the ends of your hair.

“That’s odd,” he said. “I seem to recall them looking untouched. Some even squished.”

The memory of how you’d grabbed the pastry in frustration, squeezing it in your hand, brought a small smirk to your face. You shrugged a little. “I was pissed. I couldn’t give in.”

“In that case, I’ll buy out the whole bakery.”

You rolled your eyes, but the hint of a smile was still there. It was probably obvious to Azriel. “The Spymaster supporting local businesses by single-handedly buying out a local bakery. How noble.”

He smiled at that, his expression lighter now—boyish, amused. But his words were sincere. “Whatever you need me to do. I’ll do it.”

“And if I told you to swim naked in the Sidra at night, when it’s cold and snowy?”

“I’d ask Rhysand to make an order for all the children to stay inside.”

You laughed at the thought, and the atmosphere shifted. For the first time in a while, it felt like the world had stopped turning its back on you. The anger, the grudge you’d been cradling like a newborn babe, didn’t feel so heavy now.

Azriel stood, folding the bandages and packing away the medical supplies, and you found yourself watching him without meaning to once more. You couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly… beautiful he was. There was something in the angle of his jaw, the way the light caught his features that made your breath suddenly catch. He was always handsome, of course, but this was different.

A sudden wave of curiosity bubbled up inside you. Before you could second-guess yourself, you spoke. You’d never noticed the sharpness of his eyes, the intensity in them, the way his wings twitched when his shadows curled against them.

“Can I ask you something?”

He paused, looking down at you with that soft gaze. “Always.”

“Why did you want to change into someone more loveable? Why stay with Selene?”

Azriel’s eyes flickered away, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I… I think I was jealous.”

“Jealous?”

Azriel nodded. Something sad washed through him, made him blink, made his wings fall an inch closer to the ground. “Everyone around us is finding love. They’re starting new lives.”

Something sharp jabbed at you, a bitter feeling you didn’t quite understand. Was there something wrong with you for not feeling the same need to fall in love?

“I’m not,” you said.

The expression that took over Azriel’s face was one you couldn’t describe, but there was a new kind of weariness in it. His lips parted as though to say something else, but instead, he simply shook his head with a small, wistful smile. “It’s only a matter of time, Y/n.”

You blinked. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re you. You’re amazing. It’s only a matter of time until you fall for one of your many suitors.”

You furrowed your brow, a bitter taste now settling on your tongue. You didn’t respond— didn’t know how to.

Azriel’s eyes darkened for a brief moment, his jaw tightening, but then his face softened. He exhaled slowly. When he spoke, his voice was quieter than before. “I didn’t think I could handle being alone when you moved on, too.”

The way he said it, the weight of it, made something ache inside you, like a deep hollow was opening up in your chest. You swallowed hard, wishing for something—anything—to ease the growing pressure behind your ribcage.

You wanted him to tell you more, to say something that would make sense of all this. But you didn’t know how to ask for that, didn’t even know what you wanted him to say.

“Because you don’t want to be the last one standing?”

The silence that followed was almost suffocating. Azriel’s shadows seemed to quiet around you both.

Then, he gave you a half-smile—sad, lopsided, but somehow more real than anything he’d shown you in a long time. Not for months. Not since he began dating Selene.

“Something like that.”

Before you could dwell on his words, on why they made you feel sad, disappointed even, Azriel finished packing up the kit and turned toward you.

“All done,” he said.

You blinked, pulled out of your thoughts, and nodded. “Oh. Cool. Thank you.”

You looked down at your hands, your fingers brushing over the growing bruises on your knuckles. Your hair fell forward, partially hiding your face, and before you could move it out of the way, one of Azriel’s shadows darted forward, tugging at the strand. You glanced up as he gently called the shadow back with a subtle motion.

“So... how do I look?”

Azriel's eyes flicked over you, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he reached forward, his hand brushing that same strand of hair from your face.

“Tough,” he said, slowly moving the strand back. “I think the bandages really bring out your eyes.”

And even though he’d done it a million times before, as Azriel tucked your hair behind your ear, something inside you cracked right open.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Part Five

authors note:

tending to wounds scene!!! tending to wounds scene!! mor has both bracelets??!? az and selene are done?!?! he's being weirdly calm abt the whole thing?!?! reader is THINKINNN...

now begins the fun time of reader wanting to let az grovel (bc he has entered his groveling era) but also overthinking everything and wanting him to just....go away. also fun time of reader having to prove to everyone that despite things she may...or may not... feel, her intentions with Az were neverr driven jealousy hehe

so fun!!! i have some fun ideas guys. thank yall for reading <3 i wonder if you can guess what might happen.... there are a few hints

permanent tag list 🫶🏻:

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@cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg @evergreenlark

@marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@feyretopia @ninthcircleofprythian @azrielrot @justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli

@mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound

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callsigns-haze · 4 months ago

Text

-ˋˏ The week it all went south ˎˊ-

Part 2

Part 1 here

Pairing: Azriel x Rhysand's sister!reader

Azriel has the perfect life. You as his wife. Kaia as his daughter. But him and the boys are stupid enough to challenge you for a week and then his perfect life might simply...disappear

Warning: FUTURE ANGST, mentions of past lovers, mentions of sex, cursing, kissing, mentions of injured child, drinking.

Word count: 27k

The cabin was cozy, nestled in the heart of the mountains, surrounded by towering pines and a blanket of soft snow that had recently fallen. The scent of wood and fresh air filled the space as the door swung open, and the sounds of excited footsteps echoed in the large entryway.

Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand stepped inside first, each of them carrying bags and supplies for the week ahead. Behind them came Nyx, Kaia perched on his back as he carried her effortlessly, while Cassian’s three boys, Torran, Emrus, and Calen, rushed in, their laughter and energy filling the cabin.

“Okay, okay, settle down,” Cassian said, his voice carrying a playful authority as he followed them inside. His eyes scanned the room, making sure nothing was out of place for the kids. “Nyx, put Kaia down—let her run around. Emrus, don’t touch that,” he added, reaching out to grab Emrus’s hand as he tried to explore one of the stone fireplaces.

Azriel was right behind them, his sharp eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger. His shadows moved around him like a second skin, guiding him to the far corner where he noticed a small table with some leftover supplies from the previous tenants. He set Kaia down on the floor, watching her immediately start fluttering her wings in excitement.

“Go ahead, Kaia. You can explore,” Azriel said softly, his voice filled with warmth as he crouched down next to her. Kaia, always quick to absorb everything around her, toddled off eagerly, her little wings fluttering behind her.

Rhysand and Nyx were the last to step through the door. Nyx had an amused look on his face, though there was a touch of apprehension behind his eyes as he let Kaia go to explore. His gaze met Rhysand’s for a moment, and a silent understanding passed between them. Rhysand gave a small smile before reaching down to ruffle Nyx’s hair affectionately.

“Looks like we’re all here,” Rhysand said, giving the room a sweep with his violet gaze. “It’s a good thing we got here early—plenty of time to get settled in before the chaos begins.”

Nyx chuckled, rolling his eyes as he turned to follow Kaia, who had already found a spot by the window to observe the falling snow. “This week’s going to be a mess,” he muttered, but there was a smile in his voice as he watched his little cousin.

Cassian glanced over at the group of kids, who were already finding ways to entertain themselves in the cabin. His sons were exploring the open space, trying to figure out the best spots to play. “Alright, boys,” Cassian called out. “This place might be ours for the week, but let’s remember there are rules. And that means no breaking anything.”

Emrus grinned at his father. “You can’t stop us, Dad!”

“Watch me,” Cassian teased, giving him a playful shove.

Azriel watched them interact with an affectionate smile, his shadows swirling around him in a comforting embrace. There was a comfort here, even in the midst of the chaos. For the first time in a long time, he felt at ease, his family together and safe, away from the pressures and expectations of the Night Court.

“Alright, let’s unpack and get settled,” Azriel said to the others, standing tall again. “We’ve got a week to enjoy this place. Let’s make it count.”

Kaia, having moved over to a chair in the corner, suddenly turned around and let out an excited squeal. “Dada! Dada!” she called, her voice filled with joy. “I see snow!”

Azriel smiled warmly, his heart swelling at the sound of her happiness. He moved over to her, kneeling down beside her to look out the window. “I see it too, sweetheart. We’ll go play in it later.”

Azriel stood up from the window, his eyes scanning the room as he noticed Kaia tugging at the hem of his tunic, looking up at him with her bright, eager eyes. A soft smile curved his lips as he bent down to her level, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“Ready to see your room, Kaia?” he asked, his voice gentle but filled with affection.

She nodded enthusiastically, her little wings fluttering behind her as she grinned up at him. “I wanna sleep with you, Dada!” she exclaimed in her sweet, toddler speech, her words still a little jumbled but full of intent.

Azriel’s heart softened at the sound of her words, and he held out his hand for her to take. “Of course, sweetheart. Let’s go see where we’ll be sleeping for the week.”

Kaia’s tiny hand gripped his fingers as he led her through the cabin, past the large living area and toward the hallway. The wood floors creaked softly underfoot as they walked, the warmth of the fire crackling in the background. Azriel could hear the sounds of the kids still exploring the other rooms, but his focus was entirely on Kaia.

As they reached the door to the room they’d be staying in, Azriel pushed it open with a soft creak, revealing a cozy space with a large, comfortable bed. A fluffy comforter in shades of deep blue and silver covered the mattress, and soft light filtered through the window, casting a peaceful glow across the room.

Kaia’s eyes widened as she stepped inside, looking around the room in wonder. “So pwwetty, Dada!” she exclaimed, her wings fluttering in excitement.

Azriel chuckled softly as he watched her take in the space. “I’m glad you like it, Kaia. This will be our room for the week.”

He guided her over to the bed, helping her climb up onto it. She immediately flopped down, her small body sinking into the softness of the blankets. Azriel followed, sitting beside her, his wings brushing the fabric of the bedding as he settled in.

Kaia rolled onto her back, her little hands resting on her chest as she stared up at the ceiling. “Dada, we pway in the snow now?” she asked, her voice filled with excitement.

Azriel chuckled, brushing a hand through her hair. “Soon, sweetie. We’ll go out there and play, but first, we need to get settled and rest a bit.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “You can nap here for a little while, and when you wake up, we’ll go outside together.”

Kaia’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, her soft breathing steadying as she relaxed into the bed. Azriel sat quietly beside her, his gaze lingering on her peaceful face. This, he thought, was the calm he needed—the precious moments of stillness before the chaos of the week began. The weight of the world could wait a little longer.

Nyx burst through the door, eyes wide and his face flushed from running. His breath came in quick gasps as he skidded to a stop just inside the room. His messy hair was wild, and he had that familiar look of someone who had been running away from something—more specifically, from someone.

“Close the door, Azriel!” Nyx shouted, glancing over his shoulder. His 13-year-old face was a mix of exasperation and amusement. “They’re coming!”

Azriel barely had time to react before Nyx rushed forward and made a beeline for the bed, practically diving under the blankets next to Kaia. Kaia, who had been resting quietly, sat up with wide eyes, looking over at her cousin in surprise.

Azriel, trying not to laugh at the sight of Nyx huddled next to his daughter as if he were some secret agent on the run, quickly moved toward the door. Just as he shut it, the sound of loud, excited footsteps could be heard in the hallway, followed by the unmistakable voices of Cassian’s sons calling after Nyx.

“Nyx! Where’d you go? We’ll find you!” Torran’s voice rang out, followed by Emrus and Calen shouting in a chorus.

Azriel grinned, shaking his head. “What did you do to deserve that?” he asked Nyx, who had now curled up under the blanket next to Kaia, trying to hide as much of himself as he could.

Nyx poked his head out from beneath the covers, his eyes darting to the door. “They’re relentless,” he muttered with a smirk. “They wanted me to show them how to use the dagger I found, but they’re way too reckless. I told them I’d rather live.”

Azriel chuckled, ruffling Nyx’s hair as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “I told you they’d be trouble. But I didn’t expect you to be the one running from them.”

Kaia giggled at the sight of her older cousin hiding, her wings fluttering a little in her excitement. “Nyxie funny!” she said, her voice high-pitched with joy.

Nyx gave a half-smile in return, his cheeks still flushed from his sprint. “You’re one to talk, Kaia. I think you’re the one who’s funny.” He stuck his tongue out at her, and Kaia giggled, reaching out to tug on the corner of his sleeve.

Azriel shook his head with a quiet laugh, glancing toward the door as he heard the footsteps grow quieter. “Looks like they’ve given up for now,” he said with a chuckle. “You might be safe for a little while, Nyx.”

“Good,” Nyx replied, settling back into the blankets next to Kaia, who had now decided to snuggle close to him. “I think I’ll stay here until they forget what they were chasing me for.”

-----

The sun hung high in the Day Court sky, its warmth streaming through the open terrace where you, Feyre, and Nesta lounged comfortably. You were settled on plush chairs, a pitcher of sparkling wine and three glasses between you. The scent of citrus and sea salt drifted on the breeze, blending perfectly with the laughter that filled the space.

Feyre leaned forward, her gaze sharp with curiosity as she swirled her drink. “Alright, I can’t take it anymore. You’re going to have to tell us about Eris.”

Nesta raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smirk as she tilted her head at you. “Don’t think we’ve forgotten, sister. You casually drop that you’ve slept with Eris, Lucien, and Tarquin, and expect us not to demand details?”

You sighed dramatically, leaning back in your chair as you looked between them. Their relentless pestering had started the moment you mentioned it yesterday, and it didn’t look like they’d let up anytime soon.

“Alright, fine,” you said, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “If you must know, Eris was my first.”

Feyre’s jaw dropped, her glass clinking against the table as she set it down quickly. “Eris?” she repeated, her voice somewhere between shock and disbelief. “The Eris Vanserra? High Lord of the Autumn Court, lord of insufferable arrogance?”

Nesta, on the other hand, let out a soft laugh, her cool demeanour masking the intrigue in her eyes. “I’m not surprised,” she said smoothly. “He has a certain… flair about him.”

You rolled your eyes at Feyre’s reaction, taking a sip of your drink before answering. “Yes, Eris. And he wasn’t as arrogant then as he is now. We were both young. He was charming, and I was… curious.”

Feyre shook her head as if trying to process the information. “I’m sorry, but you need to elaborate. How did that even happen?”

You leaned forward, resting your arms on the table, a small smile tugging at your lips as you recalled the memory. “It was centuries ago, long before the War. I was still finding my place in the Night Court, and Eris… well, he was already the future High Lord of the Autumn Court. He came to the court of nightmares with his father on some diplomatic nonsense. I was introduced as Rhysand’s sister, and Eris… he was bold.”

Nesta’s brow arched. “Bold how?”

You smirked, swirling the wine in your glass. “He cornered me at a party. Told me I was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen and asked me to dance. One thing led to another, and we ended up spending the rest of the night together.”

Feyre groaned, placing her head in her hands. “This is too much.”

Nesta chuckled, a rare, genuine sound. “Sounds like Eris knew what he wanted.”

You nodded, your smile softening. “He did. And despite what he’s become, back then, he wasn’t so bad. We parted ways amicably, and that was that.”

Feyre peeked at you from between her fingers. “And you just… never told us? Not even when we were dealing with him during the whole alliance mess?”

“Well,” you said, shrugging, “it didn’t seem relevant. And besides, you two are in your thirties. I’m over five hundred years old. You didn’t exactly ask for my full romantic history.”

Nesta scoffed, leaning back in her chair. “And yet here we are, prying it out of you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her response. “Alright, alright. For the record, yes, I’ve slept with more than just Azriel. Eris, Lucien, Tarquin—”

“Tarquin too?” Feyre interrupted, her voice an octave higher.

You nodded with a sly grin. “He was sweet, actually. Very attentive.”

Nesta exchanged a wide-eyed look with Feyre before turning back to you. “You’ve certainly had an interesting history.”

You raised your glass in a mock toast. “I’ve lived a long life. And every mistake, every fling, every relationship has led me to where I am now.”

Feyre shook her head, lifting her own glass. “I still can’t believe Eris.”

Nesta smirked, raising her glass as well. “To Eris, Tarquin, Lucien, and whoever else we haven’t uncovered yet.”

Feyre leaned forward in her chair, her gaze sharp with curiosity, the sunlight catching the mischievous glint in her eyes. "Alright, since we’re getting the full history… Helion. Twice, he said?"

Nesta arched a brow, her lips twitching as though she was trying not to smirk. "And he’s the truth-teller, so we know it’s true. Twice. What’s the story there?"

You groaned, leaning back against the plush cushions of the Day Court lounge. The scent of jasmine and citrus hung in the air, blending with the warmth of the midday sun. You sipped your wine slowly, stalling as Feyre and Nesta exchanged expectant glances.

"You two are relentless," you muttered, shaking your head. "Fine. Yes, Helion and I… had our moments. Twice."

Nesta tilted her head, a sly smile spreading across her face. "And what exactly sparked those moments?"

You set your glass down, resting your elbows on your knees as you smirked. "It was centuries ago—long before Rhysand being High lord so soon was even a thought in the Night Court's plans. Helion was young, charming, and absolutely insufferable. He loved to flirt, and I… well, I liked the attention."

Feyre snorted. "Sounds like him."

You chuckled. "The first time was during a diplomatic visit to the Day Court. We’d been dancing at one of their endless celebrations, and one thing led to another. He was persistent, and I was curious."

"And the second time?" Nesta asked, her tone neutral but her eyes gleaming with intrigue.

You sighed, tilting your head back as you remembered. "That was years later. I visited the Day Court to broker a trade agreement. Helion was even more insufferable by then, but gods, he knew how to get under my skin. He flirted shamelessly, practically challenged me to resist him. I didn’t."

Feyre leaned back in her chair, looking torn between amusement and disbelief. "So, twice. And neither time it became anything serious?"

You shook your head. "It was never serious. Helion and I were… friends, in a way. We enjoyed each other’s company, and that was that. No strings, no expectations."

Nesta tapped her fingers against the rim of her glass, her voice dry. "Well, at least we know why he called you the ‘loss of his life.’"

You laughed, raising your glass to her. "Helion’s dramatic. Always has been. But he’s a good male, and we’ve remained on friendly terms ever since."

Feyre narrowed her eyes playfully. "And you just forgot to mention this to us before?"

"Forgot? No," you replied with a grin. "I just didn’t think it was relevant. My past is… well, it’s my past. I’ve lived a long life, and I didn’t think you’d want to hear about all of it."

"Clearly, we do," Nesta quipped, her smirk widening.

Feyre leaned forward again, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Alright, and who was better—Helion or Eris?"

You burst out laughing, shaking your head as you lifted your glass. "That’s a secret I’ll take to my grave."

Nesta groaned in mock frustration. "You’re impossible."

"Am I?" you teased, grinning at both of them. "Or am I just keeping some mystery alive?"

The sun shifted lazily across the sky, casting golden hues over the Day Court’s sprawling terrace as you, Feyre, and Nesta lounged in your seats, the pitcher of wine now half-empty. The laughter and teasing had yet to cease since you admitted to your history with Helion, and your sisters seemed more determined than ever to get every last detail out of you.

Feyre leaned forward, her elbows on the table, her face a mix of exasperation and amusement. "I’m just saying, I don’t know why you won’t answer. We’ve been at this for hours. You slept with Helion twice. It’s not like we’re asking you to write a ballad about it."

Nesta, sitting across from you, swirled her wine with an exaggerated air of patience. "Exactly. All we’re asking for is a comparison. Was he better than Eris? Worse? Or maybe somewhere in between?"

You groaned, throwing your head back against the plush cushions of your chair. "You two are ridiculous. Why does it even matter?"

"It matters," Feyre said firmly, pointing at you with a grin, "because you’re our sister, and you’ve been holding out on us. Centuries of experience, and you’re just now letting us in on the good parts."

Nesta smirked. "You’ve lived five hundred years longer than us. The least you can do is share some wisdom. Especially if it involves Helion and Eris. And Tarquin."

You shot her a mock glare. "I am not giving you a ranking, Nesta."

She raised an eyebrow, the corners of her lips tugging upward. "Who said anything about a ranking? Although, now that you mention it—"

"Nesta," you groaned, cutting her off as Feyre snorted into her wineglass.

Feyre set her drink down, her face alight with mischief. "You know what’s killing me? The fact that Helion said it himself. Twice. Twice means something. Was it because the first time wasn’t good enough? Or was it so good you couldn’t resist a second time?"

"Feyre," you said, your voice exasperated but tinged with laughter, "you’re impossible."

Nesta crossed her legs, her sharp gaze fixed on you. "Don’t change the subject. What I want to know is if it was Helion’s charm or his… skills that made you go back for round two."

"Gods," you muttered, covering your face with your hands as they dissolved into laughter.

"Come on," Feyre coaxed, leaning closer, her eyes bright. "We’re your sisters. You can tell us. Was it the muscles? The golden glow? Or did he just talk his way into your bed again?"

"Both of you need to stop," you said, though the smile pulling at your lips betrayed your exasperation.

Nesta’s smirk widened. "We’re not stopping until we get answers. You’ve been teasing us all day."

"And what exactly do you want me to say?" you shot back, laughing despite yourself. "That Helion is charming? Fine, he’s charming. That he’s skilled? Fine, he’s skilled. Happy now?"

Feyre and Nesta exchanged a look, then simultaneously shook their heads.

"Not even close," Feyre said.

"We want details," Nesta added.

You groaned again, reaching for your wineglass as Feyre and Nesta started tossing out theories and questions, their determination unyielding. Hours had passed, and yet they showed no signs of letting up.

You could only laugh, raising your glass in mock surrender. "You two are relentless. Absolutely relentless."

"And you love us for it," Feyre teased, her grin wicked.

Feyre, her cheeks flushed from the wine, leaned forward with an impish grin. "Alright, alright. Let’s simplify this. Who was the best? Helion, Eris, or Tarquin?"

Nesta smirked, sipping from her glass like she had all the time in the world. "Yes, let’s settle this once and for all. You have to pick one."

You groaned, leaning back in your chair and rubbing your temples. "Why do I feel like I’m being interrogated by the Inner Circle’s most dangerous duo?"

"Because you are," Feyre said cheerfully.

Nesta raised an eyebrow, her expression cool but her eyes sparkling. "And don’t think you can distract us. We’ve waited centuries to hear this gossip. We deserve answers."

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to think of a way out of this. "I’m not ranking them. That’s final."

"Fine," Feyre said, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Then just tell us who surprised you the most."

You blinked at her, caught off guard. "Surprised me?"

Nesta tilted her head thoughtfully. "That’s actually a good question. Who was different than you expected?"

You considered this for a moment, swirling the wine in your glass. "Well… if I had to pick someone, I’d say Eris."

Feyre’s eyes widened, and Nesta leaned forward, clearly intrigued. "Why Eris?" Feyre asked.

You hesitated, then shrugged. "Because despite all his arrogance and fire, he was surprisingly gentle. He could be soft when he wanted to be, which wasn’t often, but it was enough to catch me off guard."

Nesta looked impressed. "That is surprising. I wouldn’t have guessed that about him."

Feyre rested her chin in her hand, a dreamy look on her face. "I can actually see it. He’s all rough edges on the outside, but maybe there’s something softer underneath."

"Don’t let him hear you say that," you said with a laugh. "He’d deny it until his dying breath."

"And Helion?" Nesta pressed, not letting you off the hook.

You sighed again, shaking your head with a small smile. "Helion is exactly who you think he is. Charming, confident, and very, very good at what he does."

Feyre fanned herself dramatically, laughing. "You’re not making this any easier for us, you know."

"And Tarquin?" Nesta asked, her tone even but her smirk giving her away.

Your smile softened. "Tarquin was sweet. Gentle, almost shy at times. But there was a strength to him too, a quiet confidence. He was… different."

Feyre and Nesta exchanged a look, then turned back to you with matching grins.

"Well?" Nesta said. "We still haven’t gotten a clear answer."

You threw up your hands in exasperation. "Because there isn’t one! They were all different, alright? Can we move on now? I've chose my husband, is that not enough!"

Feyre snorted, shaking her head. "Not a chance."

Nesta raised her glass, her smirk widening. "You’re stuck with us, sister. Might as well spill everything."

Helion strolled into the room with his usual air of confidence, his golden robes shimmering in the fading sunlight. His grin widened as he took in the three of you lounging with wine, clearly enjoying yourselves.

"Ah," he said, spreading his arms theatrically, "the beauties of the Night Court, still gracing my halls. What trouble have you been causing in my absence?"

Before you could say a word, Feyre and Nesta pounced.

"Helion!" Feyre exclaimed, her tone filled with mock scandal. "How did you manage to sleep with her twice?"

Nesta smirked, tilting her head as she added, "We’ve been trying to get answers out of her for hours, but she’s being terribly uncooperative. Care to enlighten us?"

Helion froze for a fraction of a second, then threw his head back and laughed, the sound rich and full. "Ah, so she’s finally told you about our little… history." His amber eyes gleamed with mischief as he looked at you. "And here I thought that was our secret."

You groaned, sinking deeper into your chair. "I’m going to kill both of you," you muttered, glaring at your sisters.

Feyre ignored you, her grin as wide as ever. "Come on, Helion. We’re dying to know. Twice? What did you do to manage that?"

Helion sauntered over, pouring himself a glass of wine as if he had all the time in the world. He took a slow sip, savouring the moment, before leaning casually against the edge of the table.

"Well," he began, his voice smooth and teasing, "I’d like to think it was my charm, my wit, and, of course, my irresistible good looks."

Nesta rolled her eyes. "Be serious."

Helion chuckled, setting his glass down. "Alright, if you must know… it was persistence. Your sister wasn’t easy to win over. The first time took weeks of courting—dancing, poetry, gifts. I had to work for it."

Feyre’s eyes widened. "Dancing and poetry? Really?"

You groaned again, covering your face. "Helion, stop."

"Why should I?" he teased, his grin widening. "This is far too much fun."

"And the second time?" Nesta pressed, clearly enjoying this far too much.

Helion shrugged, his tone casual but his eyes glinting with amusement. "The second time… well, by then, she already knew what she’d be getting. I’d say it was mutual curiosity more than anything else. A moment of weakness on both our parts."

Feyre burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. "I can’t believe this. You’re like an open book!"

Helion raised his glass in a mock toast. "A truth-teller, as they say. I have nothing to hide."

Nesta smirked, turning to you. "See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

You shot her a withering look. "I hate all of you."

Helion chuckled, reaching out to ruffle your hair. "Don’t be mad, my dear. It’s all in good fun."

Feyre and Nesta dissolved into laughter again, and you couldn’t help but join them, even as you plotted your revenge for the endless teasing. Helion, ever the showman, basked in the chaos he’d caused, clearly pleased with himself.

Nesta, never one to let an opportunity for drama pass, leaned forward with a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Alright, Helion, since you’re such a truth-teller, did you know she’s also slept with Eris and Tarquin?"

Helion, mid-sip of his wine, froze. He lowered the glass slowly, his golden eyes snapping to you with an expression of exaggerated betrayal. "Eris and Tarquin?" He placed a hand over his heart, his voice mock-wounded. "You wound me, my darling. I thought I was the only High Lord you graced with your affections."

Feyre and Nesta howled with laughter, and you groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Helion, don’t start."

But Helion, of course, ignored you entirely. "Eris, I can maybe understand. He has that sharp-edged allure, though I didn’t think you’d fall for his particular brand of arrogance." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "But Tarquin? I would have thought his gentle demeanour was too… tame for you."

Feyre leaned forward eagerly. "So, you didn’t know?"

Helion shook his head, his golden hair catching the sunlight. "Not a clue. This is news to me—and very entertaining news at that." He turned to you with a sly grin. "Darling, were you just collecting powerful men for your own amusement?"

"Apparently," Nesta said dryly, smirking at you.

You glared at all three of them, your cheeks heating. "You’re all impossible."

Helion laughed, clearly relishing the situation. "I feel like I should be offended, but honestly, I’m impressed. Eris, Tarquin, and me? That’s quite the trio. Did you have a checklist of traits you were trying to complete?"

Feyre nearly choked on her wine, laughing so hard tears streamed down her face. Nesta, trying to keep a straight face, asked, "Were they all… at different times, or was this some sort of power alliance you were building?"

"Gods," you groaned, sinking lower in your chair. "I’m leaving."

But Helion was grinning like a cat with cream, clearly enjoying every second of your discomfort. "Don’t leave now, darling. The best part of this story is just beginning."

Feyre leaned into Nesta, both of them giggling like conspirators. "You have to admit," Feyre said, "this might be the best thing we’ve ever learned about her."

"And the most entertaining," Helion agreed, raising his glass in a toast. "To our fiery Night Court beauty, who’s apparently been breaking hearts across Prythian for centuries."

You scowled at all of them but couldn’t suppress the small, begrudging smile tugging at your lips. "If you don’t stop, I swear I’ll tell Tarquin about the time you lost a bet to me, Helion."

That shut him up—momentarily, at least. Feyre and Nesta, however, were far from done, their teasing laughter following you long into the afternoon.

As the laughter finally began to settle, Feyre, still grinning, leaned forward with a curious glint in her eyes. "Alright, I have to know. With all these men in your past, how did you end up with Azriel in the end? What made him different?"

Before you could answer, Helion let out a booming laugh, nearly spilling his wine. He pointed at you with a playful smirk, shaking his head. "Ah, somehow, the beast won over the beauty."

You shot him a glare, but the corner of your lips betrayed the smallest twitch of a smile. "Helion, if you’re going to call him a beast, you should remember he has shadows that could very well find their way into your dreams."

"Let them," Helion said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "Perhaps they’ll give me insight into how the brooding warrior managed to claim the heart of Prythian’s most elusive treasure."

Nesta snorted, her arms crossed. "Honestly, I’d like to hear this too. What did he do to make you settle down after centuries of… well, you know?"

Feyre leaned in closer, her curiosity unmistakable. "It’s true. I mean, Azriel of all people? Don’t get me wrong, he’s wonderful, but he’s so quiet, so restrained. I can’t picture him chasing after you."

You sighed, swirling the wine in your glass as a fond smile crept onto your face. "That’s the thing. He didn’t chase me. Azriel isn’t the type to play games or put on a show. He just… was himself. Steady, patient, kind. I think that’s what got me. After centuries of grand gestures and fleeting flings, he was the first to make me feel like I could truly rest. Like I didn’t have to be anything other than me."

Feyre’s expression softened, a small smile tugging at her lips. "That’s… actually really beautiful."

Nesta arched a brow. "So you’re saying it was the quiet, brooding patience that won you over?"

You chuckled. "Pretty much. That, and the fact that he’s maddeningly stubborn. He saw through all my walls and didn’t let me push him away, no matter how hard I tried."

Helion sighed dramatically, raising his glass again. "Well, I suppose I’ll allow it. If anyone deserves you, it’s that shadowsinger of yours. But don’t think I’m not still jealous."

"You’ll live," you teased, rolling your eyes at him.

Feyre and Nesta exchanged a glance, both of them smiling now. Feyre’s voice was soft when she spoke. "I’m glad you found someone like him. You deserve that kind of love."

You nodded, a warmth blooming in your chest. "I do too."

Helion groaned, breaking the tender moment with a laugh. "Alright, enough of this sweetness. Where’s the scandal? The chaos? Surely Azriel wasn’t perfect all the time."

You smirked, tilting your head. "Oh, he’s far from perfect, but that’s a story for another time."

Feyre and Nesta groaned in unison, but you just laughed, taking another sip of your wine. Some stories, after all, were meant to be kept between you and Azriel.

-----

Kaia was bundled under a blanket in the middle of the large bed, her tiny wings shifting slightly as she napped. Azriel sat at the edge of the bed, his hand resting lightly on Kaia’s back as if to shield her from even the idea of the world outside. The soft rise and fall of her breathing filled the quiet room, her little face relaxed in the purest form of peace.

Nyx, sprawled in a chair by the window, watched her with a mixture of amusement and tenderness. "She sleeps like she owns the place," he murmured, his tone a little envious.

Azriel glanced at him, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. "She does. At least in her mind."

Nyx chuckled but stayed where he was, resting his chin in his hand. "You’re lucky she’s so small. If she were my age, you’d have your hands full trying to keep her from taking over the entire cabin."

Azriel’s smile widened, his gaze returning to Kaia. "She already has me wrapped around her finger. I wouldn’t even try to stop her."

They lapsed into silence, the comfortable kind that settled naturally between them. Kaia’s wings twitched slightly as she shifted in her sleep, a tiny sigh escaping her lips. Azriel adjusted the blanket around her, his movements practiced and gentle.

The door creaked open, and Rhysand’s unmistakable presence filled the room. He leaned casually against the frame, his arms crossed, an amused smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, there you are. I wondered where my son had gone."

Nyx glanced over his shoulder, his expression sheepish. "I’m not hiding. I’m… supervising."

Rhys raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. "Supervising? It looks more like lounging." His gaze shifted to Azriel, who hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed. "And you, Azriel? You’ve recruited my son into your world of quiet brooding already?"

Azriel didn’t look up, his attention still on Kaia. "I’m teaching him patience. A skill you seem to lack."

Rhys chuckled, stepping fully into the room. He looked down at Kaia, his expression softening. "She really is a little marvel, isn’t she?"

"She is," Azriel replied quietly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

Nyx stood, stretching lazily. "Well, if you’ve found me, I guess I’m free to go now."

Rhys gave him a pointed look. "Not so fast. If you’re leaving, you’re taking your cousins with you. They’ve been terrorizing Cassian since you vanished."

Nyx groaned but nodded, pausing to glance at Kaia one last time. "She’s lucky she’s a baby. No one’s expecting her to deal with any of this chaos."

Azriel smirked faintly, his shadows curling protectively around his daughter. "She’ll have her time. For now, this is enough."

Nyx rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, slipping past Rhys and out the door. Rhys lingered, his gaze settling on Azriel with a mix of amusement and fondness.

"You’re in deep, aren’t you?" Rhys said softly.

Azriel finally looked up, his golden eyes unwavering. "Deeper than I ever thought possible."

Rhys smiled, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Good. She deserves that."

With one last glance at Kaia, Rhys left, leaving Azriel alone once more with his sleeping daughter, his expression calm and utterly content.

As Kaia slept soundly, her tiny fists curled into the blanket, Azriel leaned back against the headboard, his gaze fixed on her. The room was quiet save for the soft rustle of her wings and the occasional creak of the cabin as the wind moved outside.

His thoughts, however, weren’t fully here. You had been gone with Feyre and Nesta for hours now, no doubt enjoying yourselves in the Day Court. He trusted you completely, but his mind always wandered when you weren’t within reach, especially with Helion around.

Azriel’s shadows stirred as if sensing his unease, curling lazily around his shoulders and wrists like smoke. He glanced at them, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Go," he murmured quietly. "Check on her."

The shadows seemed to ripple in acknowledgment before slipping from him, snaking out through the room and under the door, silent as always. He watched them disappear, his mind already imagining their path as they travelled across the cabin and beyond.

He shifted his focus back to Kaia, his fingers brushing over the edge of her blanket. She stirred briefly, one of her little wings fluttering, but then she settled again, a soft hum escaping her lips.

It didn’t take long before his shadows returned, curling around him with familiar ease. They brought back glimpses of your laughter, the sound of Feyre teasing Helion, and the faint scent of the Day Court’s jasmine-laden air.

"Enjoying yourself, are you?" Azriel muttered to himself, a soft chuckle escaping him. Despite his love for you, he couldn't help the small pang of longing to have you here, even in the midst of his joy at knowing you were having fun.

Kaia shifted again, and Azriel leaned forward, adjusting her blanket before sitting back, his expression softening as his shadows whispered their findings to him. At least you were happy and safe, and for now, that was enough.

The peaceful quiet of the room was shattered as the door suddenly swung open with a loud creak, followed by Cassian’s booming voice.

"Az, have you seen where—"

Before he could finish, Kaia stirred, her little nose scrunching as she let out a soft whine. Azriel shot Cassian a glare sharp enough to cut steel, his shadows coiling tighter around him in warning.

"Cassian," Azriel hissed, his voice low and dangerous.

Cassian froze mid-step, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he realized what he had done. "Oh, shit," he muttered, raising his hands in mock surrender.

Kaia’s whine turned into a soft, drowsy cry as her eyes fluttered open, her tiny wings twitching beneath the blanket. "Dada," she murmured groggily, her voice thick with sleep.

Azriel immediately leaned forward, his hand stroking her back soothingly. "It’s okay, Kaia," he murmured, his voice soft and calming. "Dada’s here."

Kaia blinked up at him, her big hazel eyes—so much like his—glistening with half-formed tears. She reached out a small hand, her fingers clumsily clutching at his tunic. "Too loud," she mumbled, her toddler speech slurring slightly.

Azriel shot another pointed glare at Cassian, who was still frozen in the doorway. "You woke her up," Azriel said, his tone clipped.

Cassian had the decency to look sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn’t realize she was napping," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "Sorry, Kaia."

Kaia, however, wasn’t so easily placated. She turned her head toward Cassian, her little brows furrowed. "Cassy bad," she declared, her tiny voice firm despite the sleepiness clinging to it.

Cassian blinked, then burst out laughing. "Oh, come on, kid. Don’t sell me out like that!"

Azriel gently scooped Kaia into his arms, her small wings drooping as she nestled against his chest. "You brought this on yourself," he muttered, his tone dry.

Kaia, already calming in her father’s arms, shot Cassian one last pout before burying her face in Azriel’s tunic. "No loud," she mumbled, her voice muffled.

Cassian held up his hands again in surrender. "Alright, alright, I get it. I’m the villain here."

Azriel sighed, rocking Kaia gently as she started to settle. "What do you need, Cassian?"

"Nothing that can’t wait," Cassian replied, stepping back toward the door with a sheepish grin. "I’ll let you get back to it. And, uh, sorry again, Kaia."

Kaia didn’t bother to respond, already drifting back into a doze against Azriel’s shoulder. Cassian gave a final wave before slipping out, closing the door much more quietly this time.

Azriel sighed, his shadows wrapping around him and Kaia protectively. "Troublemaker," he muttered, though whether he meant Cassian or his daughter, even he wasn’t sure.

Kaia shifted against Azriel’s chest, her little wings twitching under the blanket he had draped around her. She let out a soft, frustrated sigh, her tiny fists curling into his tunic as she blinked her wide hazel eyes up at him.

"Dada," she whispered, her voice barely louder than a breath, "no sweepy."

Azriel brushed a hand gently over her soft, dark curls, his expression softening. "You need to rest, Kaia," he murmured, rocking her slightly. "You’ve had a big day already."

She shook her head, her curls bouncing with the motion. "No sweepy," she insisted, her voice gaining a bit more strength. Her little hand tugged at his tunic, her pout forming as she looked up at him. "Cassy loud. Kaia wake."

Azriel sighed, his shadows curling lazily around them as if to create a cocoon of calm. "I know, love," he said softly. "But you’ll be tired later if you don’t sleep now."

Kaia wrinkled her nose, clearly unconvinced. "No sweep. Play?"

He smiled faintly, brushing a finger down her nose. "It’s not time to play, Kaia."

She huffed, her little wings fluttering in agitation as she shifted in his arms. "Kaia no tired," she declared, her tone bordering on stubborn.

Azriel chuckled under his breath, standing up from the bed with her in his arms. "Alright, let’s see if we can make you sleepy again."

He began pacing the room slowly, his movements deliberate and soothing. He hummed a low, calming tune, the same one he’d used to lull her to sleep since she was a newborn. Kaia rested her head against his shoulder, her eyes half-closing as the melody washed over her, but her little fingers still fidgeted with the edge of his tunic.

"Dada," she whispered after a moment, her voice softer now, "sing more?"

Azriel smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Of course, my star," he said, his voice gentle.

As he continued humming, Kaia’s breathing began to even out again, though her wings twitched every so often. Even as her eyelids grew heavier, she didn’t quite let herself drift off, as if determined to fight sleep as long as she could.

Azriel kept at it, patient as ever, holding her close and rocking her gently. Eventually, her small hand stilled, and her soft breaths fell into rhythm. He glanced down to see her eyes finally closed, her little body fully relaxed against his.

"Stubborn, just like your mother," he murmured with a fond smile, brushing another kiss to her forehead before settling her back onto the bed.

Azriel watched Kaia for a moment longer, ensuring she was completely settled. Her little wings lay still now, tucked neatly beneath the blanket, and her tiny hand rested loosely by her face. Her soft breaths filled the room, the kind of sound that brought a rare peace to Azriel’s ever-guarded heart.

Satisfied she was finally asleep, he leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her forehead, his shadows curling protectively around her as if to ensure no sound or disturbance would wake her this time. He straightened slowly, his steps deliberate and silent as he moved toward the door.

Azriel opened it just wide enough to slip through, closing it with a quiet click behind him. His sharp senses immediately attuned to the sounds of the cabin: faint laughter and the unmistakable hum of conversation coming from the main room where Cassian and Rhysand were.

He moved down the hallway with his usual grace, his boots making almost no sound on the wooden floor. His shadows lingered at the edges of the hall, stretching ahead of him as though scouting the way.

As he approached the room, Cassian’s boisterous laughter echoed, followed by Rhysand’s smoother, amused tone.

"You do realize that was entirely your fault," Rhys was saying, his voice carrying a hint of teasing.

Cassian’s retort was immediate. "How was I supposed to know she was napping? Az didn’t put up a sign."

Azriel stepped into the room, his expression calm but his gaze sharp. "You didn’t need a sign, Cassian. It’s common sense."

Cassian turned, his grin wide despite the reprimand. "Ah, the shadow master returns. Did you get your little princess back to sleep?"

Azriel moved to stand near the fireplace, his shadows flickering faintly in the firelight. "She’s asleep now. Don’t wake her again, or I’ll ensure you regret it."

Rhysand chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a knowing smirk. "Kaia has you wrapped tighter around her finger than I thought possible, brother."

Azriel shrugged, unbothered. "She’s two. What’s your excuse for Nyx?"

Rhys’s smirk widened, and Cassian let out a bark of laughter. "Touché," Cassian said, raising his glass in a mock toast.

Azriel sighed, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall. "What’s the status of the rest of the cabin? Any other disasters I need to know about?"

Cassian waved a hand dismissively. "The boys are fine—for now. Nyx is keeping them occupied."

"For how long?" Azriel asked dryly, his golden gaze shifting between them.

Rhysand grinned. "Long enough for us to enjoy the silence. Or what’s left of it, considering Cassian’s volume."

Cassian scoffed, throwing a cushion at Rhys, who dodged it with a laugh. Azriel shook his head, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in his expression as he watched his brothers.

"Let’s just hope this calm lasts," he muttered, though deep down, he knew better.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hall before Calen burst into the room, his face flushed with frustration. His dark hair was tousled, and his little wings fluttered in agitation as he stomped in, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

"Uncle Az! Uncle Rhys! Dad!" he exclaimed, his voice carrying the unmistakable tone of a boy who had reached his limit.

Cassian immediately straightened, his grin widening as he turned toward his youngest. "What’s wrong, champ? You look like you’ve just fought a battle and lost."

Calen shot his father a glare, his small jaw set in defiance. "Torran and Emrus won’t stop bossing me around, and Nyx keeps telling me I’m too little to play the game!"

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, lounging back in his chair with a smirk. "What game is this, exactly?"

"Some stupid hide-and-seek game, but they keep making rules that don’t make sense!" Calen huffed, his wings flaring slightly as he planted his feet firmly on the ground. "And they won’t let me hide where I want!"

Azriel’s lips twitched as he exchanged a glance with Cassian. "Sounds like they’re trying to stack the odds in their favour," he said evenly, his shadows curling lazily around his shoulders.

Cassian laughed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Ah, Calen, you’ve got to be cleverer than that. Outsmart them! You’re the youngest—that’s your secret weapon. They’ll never see it coming."

Calen frowned, clearly unimpressed by the advice. "But they don’t listen to me," he muttered, his lower lip jutting out in a pout.

Rhysand tapped a finger against his chin, his violet eyes twinkling with amusement. "You know, Calen, if you want to win, maybe you should team up with someone else. Divide and conquer."

Calen tilted his head, his young mind clearly working through the suggestion. "Like Kaia?"

Azriel, who had been watching quietly, arched an eyebrow. "Kaia is napping, Calen. And she’s not exactly old enough to strategize."

"But she’s sneaky," Calen insisted, his eyes lighting up with the beginnings of a plan. "She’s little, and she can hide really good!"

Cassian let out a hearty laugh, clapping a hand on his son’s shoulder. "Now that’s thinking like a true warrior! But maybe let Kaia sleep a bit longer before you recruit her to your cause."

Calen sighed dramatically, his wings drooping slightly. "Fine," he grumbled, though his mind was clearly still turning over ideas.

Azriel crouched down to Calen’s level, his golden eyes steady and calm. "You’ll figure it out, Calen. And if you really need help, come find me. I’m sure we can even the playing field."

The boy perked up at that, a small grin tugging at his lips. "Thanks, Uncle Az."

"Anytime," Azriel replied, straightening again as Calen turned and marched back toward the hall, clearly ready to face his brothers and cousin once more.

As the door closed behind him, Cassian chuckled, shaking his head. "That one’s going to give them hell when he gets older."

Azriel simply shook his head, a faint smile lingering on his lips as his shadows whispered faintly around him. "Let’s just hope he doesn’t wake Kaia in the process."

The sound of measured footsteps approached the room, and moments later, Nyx leaned casually against the doorway, his expression a mix of amusement and mild panic. His dark hair was slightly mussed, and his eyes—the same striking shade as his mother’s—sparkled with mischief and just a hint of guilt.

"Uh, heads up," Nyx announced, crossing his arms and glancing between his father, Cassian, and Azriel. "There’s a broken vase on the second floor."

Rhysand’s brow lifted, his smirk fading as he sat up straighter. "A broken vase? Which vase, Nyx?"

Nyx hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. "You know, the one mom really likes. The blue one with the gold pattern."

Cassian groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "You’ve got to be kidding me. That thing is practically an antique!"

Azriel’s gaze sharpened, his arms crossing over his chest. "How did it happen?"

Nyx shrugged, the picture of nonchalance, though the way he avoided direct eye contact betrayed his nerves. "Well, Torran and Emrus were throwing a ball, and Calen tried to catch it, but he tripped, and... smash."

Rhysand pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a slow breath. "And where were you in all this?"

"Supervising," Nyx replied quickly, though his sly grin faltered when his father gave him a pointed look.

"Supervising," Rhys repeated dryly. "And did it occur to you to stop them before they destroyed something your mother treasures?"

Nyx raised his hands defensively. "Hey, I tried! But you know how they are—they don’t listen to me half the time. Besides," he added with a smirk, "it’s kind of funny when you think about it."

Cassian let out a short laugh, but it quickly turned into a cough when Azriel shot him a warning glare.

"You do realize," Azriel said in his calm, deadly tone, "that not only is Feyre going to be furious, but Y/N will probably be even worse. You know how she feels about people not respecting the house."

Nyx grimaced, his playful demeanor faltering entirely. "Yeah, I figured. That’s why I’m warning you. I thought you might want to... I don’t know, soften the blow or something."

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, a weary sigh escaping him. "Nyx, you’re going to help clean it up, and then you’re going to explain to your mother and Y/N what happened. Understood?"

Nyx groaned, his shoulders slumping. "Do I have to? Can’t you just—"

"Understood?" Rhysand repeated, his tone firm.

"Yes, sir," Nyx mumbled, dragging his feet as he turned to leave. But just as he reached the doorway, he glanced back over his shoulder.

"Good luck with Mom and Aunt Y/N," he added with a sly grin. "I’m sure they’ll both be... understanding."

And with that, he disappeared down the hall, leaving the three men in heavy silence.

Cassian was the first to break it, shaking his head with a rueful laugh. "This is why I always say we should have fewer breakable things in the house. Kids and antiques don’t mix."

"Maybe," Azriel muttered, his jaw tightening slightly, "but I doubt that’s going to help us right now."

Rhysand chuckled darkly, his violet eyes narrowing in amusement. "If Y/N and Feyre walk in before we figure out a plan, we’re doomed."

The trio made their way up to the second floor, their footsteps echoing faintly through the quiet hall. As they rounded the corner toward the room where the vase had once sat, the sight of shards scattered across the floor greeted them.

Cassian winced, crouching down to survey the damage. "Well, that’s... something," he muttered, examining the pieces of the vase. But his voice faltered as his gaze swept over the floor and landed on Emrus, who was crouched nearby, his hand pressed tightly against his side.

Azriel was the first to react, his expression hardening as he moved quickly toward the boy. "Emrus?"

The young boy flinched but didn't immediately pull his hand away. Blood trickled between his fingers, dark against the pale skin of his hand, and when he lifted his eyes to meet Azriel's, they were wide with fear.

"It... it’s not bad," Emrus stammered, though his voice wavered with pain. "I just... I didn’t mean to—"

Azriel gently pried Emrus’s hand away from his side, and a sharp intake of breath escaped him as he saw the small shard of ceramic lodged in Emrus’s palm. The cut was deep enough that the piece had embedded itself into the wound.

"How did this happen?" Azriel asked, his voice low and controlled, though there was a clear edge of concern.

Emrus swallowed hard. "I—uh—I was trying to pick up the pieces, and I didn’t see it. It... just happened."

Cassian crouched next to him, examining the cut with a frown. "This isn’t something you can just ignore, kid. We need to get that out and clean it."

Azriel nodded, his expression shifting to one of determination as he carefully reached for the piece of ceramic embedded in Emrus’s hand. "This might hurt," he warned, his voice softening to reassure the boy.

Emrus winced as Azriel gently tugged at the shard, and the pain caused his body to stiffen, but he didn’t cry out. Azriel, with his expert hands, slowly removed the piece and then pressed his palm over the wound to staunch the bleeding.

Cassian immediately stood, his voice low but urgent. "I’ll get some supplies. We need to clean it properly."

Azriel remained crouched next to Emrus, his shadows swirling around them protectively. "Stay calm, Emrus," Azriel murmured, his eyes never leaving the boy’s face. "You’re going to be fine."

Emrus nodded weakly, his face pale but determined. "I’m sorry about the vase, Uncle Az. I didn’t mean to break it."

Azriel’s gaze softened, his voice gentle. "I know you didn’t. Just focus on breathing. You’ll be alright."

Cassian returned a moment later with a small first-aid kit, and Azriel quickly got to work, cleaning the wound and applying a bandage. Once he finished, he met Emrus’s eyes. "All done."

Emrus flexed his fingers experimentally, then gave Azriel a tentative smile. "It doesn’t hurt anymore."

"Good," Azriel said, offering him a small nod. He looked up at Cassian, who was watching from a few feet away. "Make sure he doesn’t try to go back to playing until that heals, alright?"

Cassian waved a hand dismissively, though there was no hiding the worry in his eyes. "Of course, of course. I’ll make sure he takes it easy for the rest of the day."

Azriel stood up, glancing once more at the broken vase before looking back at Emrus. "Are you alright to sit for a while?"

Emrus nodded again, holding up his now-bandaged hand. "Yeah. I’ll stay here."

Azriel nodded, his eyes flicking back toward the door as he stepped away, glancing at Cassian. "Let’s clean up the mess before the others get up here. They won’t be pleased."

Cassian grinned, clapping Azriel on the back. "Oh, I’m sure they’ll understand. At least once we show them the bleeding hand, they’ll feel sorry for you."

Azriel smirked. "I think they’ll just be mad that we didn’t prevent it in the first place."

"True," Cassian replied with a chuckle. "Alright, let’s get to it."

As they bent down to start cleaning the shards, Azriel’s mind wandered briefly to the children—so full of energy, always finding ways to get into trouble. But despite it all, he knew he would do anything to protect them. Even if it meant dealing with broken vases and wounds along the way.

-----

The three of you were sprawled across an opulent chaise in one of the Day Court’s sunlit sitting rooms, golden light pouring in through the high windows. The wine bottles scattered across the table were almost empty, and the haze of tipsiness made everything funnier, everything lighter. Nesta and Feyre were giggling uncontrollably, their cheeks flushed a deep pink.

“You know,” Feyre slurred, swirling the last of her wine in her glass, “I have to say... I was worried when I first got with Rhys. I mean, he talks such a big game—”

You cut her off with a loud groan, throwing a pillow at her. “Don’t. Stop. No!” You held up a hand as if warding off some invisible evil. “Feyre, that’s my brother. My brother. I don’t want to hear anything about him in bed!”

Nesta burst out laughing, nearly spilling her drink. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You can’t tell me you’ve never wondered—”

“No!” you shrieked, grabbing another pillow to chuck at her this time. “Absolutely not! I’m disgusted you’d even suggest it. I’d rather rip out my own wings again than hear about Rhysand’s—” You shuddered dramatically, cutting yourself off.

Feyre, in tears from laughing so hard, managed to gasp out, “Fine, fine! I won’t bring him up again. But just so you know... amazing. Amazing.”

Nesta let out a cackle as you groaned loudly, grabbing the wine bottle and drinking straight from it to erase the mental image.

“Alright,” Nesta said after catching her breath, leaning back smugly. “Since Feyre can’t talk about Rhys anymore, let’s talk about Cassian.”

You snorted. “This should be good.”

Nesta smirked, twirling a strand of her dark hair around her finger. “Oh, he’s exactly what you’d expect. Loud, commanding, cocky. He thinks he’s the best at everything—and honestly? He’s not wrong.”

Feyre and you burst into laughter, but Nesta wasn’t done. She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a devilish grin. “But there’s this one thing he does with his wings—”

“No, no, no!” Feyre groaned, covering her ears with her hands. “I don’t need to hear about my brother-in-law like that!”

You, meanwhile, were doubled over, tears streaming down your face as you laughed. “Nesta, you’re going to kill her!”

Nesta raised her glass in triumph, her grin widening. “I’m just saying, he’s got stamina. And creativity. What more could I ask for?”

Feyre looked like she might pass out from mortification, and you took the opportunity to change the subject—or so you thought.

“Alright, Y/N,” Nesta said, turning her sharp gaze on you. “Your turn. Spill. What’s Azriel like?”

You froze mid-sip, choking slightly as you set the glass down. “Oh, no. I’m not doing this. No way.”

Feyre and Nesta both leaned in closer, their eyes glittering with mischievous glee. “Come on,” Feyre urged, her voice lilting with the wine. “We told you about ours. Fair’s fair.”

Nesta smirked. “Don’t be shy. We all know Azriel’s got... talents.”

You flushed, shaking your head furiously. “Nope. Not happening. I’m not feeding your curiosity again.”

“Please,” Feyre said, drawing the word out into a whine. “We’re your sisters! We deserve to know!”

You sighed, giving them a half-hearted glare. “Fine. I’ll say this: Azriel is... thorough.”

They both burst out laughing, and you quickly held up a finger. “That’s all you’re getting. Thorough. Nothing else.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “You’re no fun. I was hoping for something juicy.”

“Yeah, well,” you shot back, smirking, “I’ve got to preserve some mystery. Unlike you two, apparently.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes, her competitive streak kicking in as she leaned closer, her voice low and conspiratorial. "You’re holding out on us, Y/N. ‘Thorough’ doesn’t cut it. You’ve got to give us something."

Feyre nodded in agreement, her cheeks flushed with wine and mischief. "Exactly. You can’t just leave us hanging. Spill, sister."

You groaned, rubbing your temples. "You two are relentless, you know that?"

Nesta smirked, crossing her arms. "And you’re stubborn. But we’ve got all day and another bottle of wine. So talk."

Feyre chimed in, waving the almost-empty bottle in your direction. "We’ll even pour you another glass if it helps."

You narrowed your eyes at her. "Bribery? Really?"

"Whatever it takes," Feyre said, her grin widening.

With a dramatic sigh, you threw your hands up in defeat. "Fine! Fine. But if Rhysand or Cassian ever hear about this, I’m blaming both of you."

Nesta’s smirk widened as she refilled her glass. "They won’t hear it from us. Promise."

You took a long sip of wine, stalling for time. Finally, you set the glass down and crossed your arms. "Alright. Azriel... is quiet. Not in a boring way, but in this... intense, focused way. He pays attention to everything. He notices the little things—like the way my breath hitches when he touches certain places or the exact moment to slow down or speed up. He’s—"

Feyre’s eyes widened, and she nearly choked on her wine. "Oh, Mother. Keep going."

Nesta raised an eyebrow, her smirk practically predatory. "I knew it. All that control he has? Bet it all comes undone in the bedroom."

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. "Sometimes. But even when it does, it’s still... deliberate. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s enjoying every second of it."

Feyre fanned herself dramatically, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "No wonder you look so smug all the time."

Nesta laughed, leaning back in her chair. "I always figured he’d be good, but damn, Y/N. You hit the jackpot."

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t suppress the small, satisfied grin on your face. "Happy now?"

"Ecstatic," Feyre said, raising her glass in a mock toast.

Nesta clinked her glass against Feyre’s, her smirk firmly in place. "We’re definitely bringing this up next time the guys think they’re the superior ones."

You groaned, already regretting giving them anything to work with. "You two are impossible."

Feyre grinned, her cheeks still flushed with laughter and wine. "And you’re married to a Shadowsinger. Who knew you were the wildest one of all of us?"

Nesta snorted, leaning in closer with a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Alright, next question: How does he use his shadows—"

"NO!" you shouted, cutting her off as you reached for the wine bottle and poured yourself another glass. "This conversation is over. Forever."

But the laughter that followed made you realize you’d walked right into their trap—and you were never going to live it down.

-----

The cabin was finally quiet, the day’s chaos simmering down to a peaceful hum. The fire crackled softly in the stone hearth, casting a warm, golden glow over the living room. All five kids—Nyx, Torran, Emrus, Calen, and little Kaia—were snuggled up on the massive couch, each dressed in their pyjamas. For the first time all day, they were calm, their boundless energy having finally run its course.

Nyx, ever the eldest and self-proclaimed “responsible one,” sat on one end of the couch, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He was pretending to read a book, though his eyelids were drooping. Next to him, Torran and Emrus were leaning against each other, their earlier squabbles forgotten as they shared a blanket. Calen was curled up near Emrus’s side, clutching a small stuffed dragon he insisted was his lucky charm.

Kaia, the tiniest of them all, was tucked securely between Nyx and a pile of pillows, her wings fluttering slightly as she fought to stay awake. Her chubby hands clutched her favourite soft toy, a well-loved plush bat Azriel had given her. She yawned, her big hazel eyes—so much like her father’s—blinking slowly as the warmth of the fire and the coziness of the moment lulled her.

Azriel stood quietly by the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest as he took in the rare sight. His shadows swirled lazily around him, their usual restlessness mirroring his relief that, at last, the house was still. Rhysand was seated in one of the armchairs, a cup of tea in hand, his head leaning back against the chair as he watched the children with a faint, contented smile. Cassian, sprawled in another chair, was grinning like a proud father, even as his eyes drooped with exhaustion.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen them this still,” Cassian muttered, his voice low so as not to disturb the moment.

Rhysand chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It’s a miracle. Someone write this down.”

Azriel allowed himself a small smile, his gaze lingering on Kaia as she yawned again, her wings twitching before she snuggled deeper into the pillows. “Kaia’s usually asleep long before this,” he murmured, his voice gentle.

Cassian grinned. “She’s a fighter, that one. Just like her dad.”

Azriel huffed a quiet laugh, stepping further into the room to drape another blanket over the children. Kaia’s tiny hand reached out instinctively to clutch the edge of the blanket, pulling it close to her chin.

“You think they’ll actually stay down this time?” Rhysand asked, raising an eyebrow.

Azriel glanced at the sleeping children, his expression softening. “They’re done for the night. Even Kaia can’t fight sleep forever.”

Cassian let out a contented sigh, resting his head back. “Peace at last. Let’s not jinx it.”

Nyx stretched his arms over his head, his book slipping onto his lap as he yawned. He glanced at the younger boys, Torran and Emrus, who were beginning to nod off under their shared blanket. With the air of someone much older than his thirteen years, Nyx stood and tapped Torran’s shoulder.

“Alright, time for bed,” he said softly, though his tone left little room for argument.

Torran groaned, pulling the blanket tighter around him. “But it’s warm here...”

Nyx rolled his eyes but smiled. “You’ll be warm in bed too. Come on, before Uncle Cassian carries you like a baby.”

Emrus chuckled sleepily, nudging his brother. “He will, you know.”

That got Torran moving, albeit slowly. He stretched and stumbled off the couch, dragging Emrus with him. Together, the three boys shuffled toward their room, their footsteps soft against the wooden floor.

Cassian, watching from his chair, smirked as he stood. “That’s my boys. Go on, Nyx, make sure they brush their teeth.”

Nyx waved him off, already leading the way. “I know, I know. Night, Uncle Cassian. Night, Uncle Az.”

“Goodnight,” Azriel said quietly, his gaze still on Kaia, who was now fully asleep on the couch.

Cassian turned his attention to Calen, who was still clutching his stuffed dragon and blinking groggily. “Alright, little warrior, time for you too.”

Calen pouted but held up his arms for Cassian to lift him. “Carry me?” he mumbled sleepily.

Cassian’s grin softened as he scooped the six-year-old into his arms, dragon and all. “Of course, buddy. Let’s get you to bed.”

Calen rested his head against Cassian’s shoulder, his eyes already drooping shut as they headed toward the boys’ room. Cassian glanced back at Azriel before disappearing down the hallway.

“You’ve got it good with just one,” he teased lightly.

Azriel’s lips twitched in a faint smile as he adjusted the blanket over Kaia one last time. “For now.”

The house grew quieter as the boys settled into their room, leaving only the crackle of the fire and Kaia’s soft breathing in the living room. Peace, for now, reigned in the cabin.

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, swirling the remnants of his tea in his cup as he watched Azriel fuss over Kaia. A sly smile spread across his face as he crossed one leg over the other, his posture relaxed but his tone laced with mischief.

“You know, Az,” Rhys began casually, his voice low to avoid waking Kaia. “I never thought I’d live to see the day when the great Shadowsinger—silent, brooding, and deadly—would be tucking a toddler in on a couch like a doting father.”

Azriel shot him a sideways glance, his expression unreadable. “What’s your point, Rhys?”

Rhys’s grin widened. “Oh, no point. It’s just amusing to see how utterly whipped you are by someone who weighs less than a loaf of bread and calls you ‘Da-da’ with half her words missing.”

Azriel huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head as he adjusted the blanket over Kaia once more. “She’s two. What’s your excuse for Nyx still calling you ‘Rhysie’?”

Rhys feigned offense, placing a hand over his chest. “That’s different. Nyx calls me that out of love and respect.”

“Or to annoy you,” Azriel countered smoothly.

Rhys chuckled, conceding the point. “Fair enough. But seriously, look at you. The mighty Shadowsinger reduced to a pile of mush every time she looks at you with those big eyes.”

Azriel finally sat back, his arms resting on his knees as he glanced down at Kaia’s sleeping form. The faintest smile tugged at his lips. “Can you blame me?”

Rhys tilted his head, studying his brother-in-law with a rare softness in his gaze. “No, I really can’t. She’s got you wrapped around her little finger, and honestly, it’s a sight to behold. Who would’ve thought Azriel’s greatest weakness would be a pint-sized Illyrian with wings?”

Azriel’s shadows curled lazily around him, their movements mirroring his contentment. “She’s not my weakness, Rhys,” he said quietly, his voice firm. “She’s my strength.”

Rhys’s teasing smile faltered for a moment, replaced by something deeper. He gave a small nod, his voice quieter now. “You’re a good father, Az. Kaia’s lucky to have you.”

Azriel looked back at him, his expression softening in gratitude. “Thanks, Rhys.”

But, true to form, Rhys couldn’t let the moment stay too serious for long. He leaned forward, the mischief returning to his eyes. “Still, if she starts bossing you around like Y/N bossed me, I reserve the right to laugh.”

Azriel smirked, leaning back in his chair. “She already does, Rhys. But don’t worry—I’ll make sure to remind her that her ‘Rhysie’ uncle is always available for tea parties.”

Rhys groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Why do I get the feeling that’s going to come back to haunt me?”

Azriel’s smirk widened as he leaned back, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Because it will.”

Cassian returned to the living room, his heavy footsteps signalling his arrival. In his hand was a folded piece of parchment sealed with the mark of a messenger. His expression, though not overtly grim, carried a weight that made both Rhysand and Azriel glance up immediately.

“Looks like we’ve got a situation,” Cassian said, holding up the letter. He handed it to Rhys, who broke the seal and quickly scanned the contents, his brows knitting together.

“What’s wrong?” Azriel asked, his posture straightening, shadows stirring slightly around him.

Rhys sighed as he folded the letter back up. “There’s trouble at one of the camps—an argument that’s spiralled out of control between a couple of the commanders. It’s threatening to disrupt training for the younglings, and the emissary is asking for our intervention before it escalates further.”

Cassian crossed his arms. “I would go, but I can’t leave Torran, Emrus, and Calen here without one of us. They’ve finally calmed down, and I don’t trust them not to burn this cabin to the ground if I’m gone.”

Rhys nodded, rubbing his temple as he considered the situation. Then his gaze shifted to Azriel. “Az, do you think you can handle this? I’d go myself, but I promised Feyre I’d keep an eye on Nyx this week, and you’re... well, you’re better suited for delicate diplomacy when it comes to these camps.”

Azriel hesitated, glancing over at the couch where Kaia was still curled up, sleeping peacefully. His brow furrowed as he weighed the request. “It depends on how long I’ll be gone. I don’t want her to feel unsettled without me here.”

Rhys leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “She’ll be fine, Az. We’ve got this. You know we’ll take good care of her—Kaia adores Cassian and me.”

Cassian grinned, thumbing toward himself. “She adores me more than you, Rhys. Don’t lie to the man.”

Azriel shot him a dry look before turning back to Rhys. “How bad is the situation? Will this just be a quick visit, or am I looking at days of negotiation?”

“According to the letter, it shouldn’t take more than a day or two to resolve,” Rhys said reassuringly. “You’d fly out tomorrow morning, handle the situation, and be back before Kaia even has time to miss you too much.”

Azriel still looked reluctant, his fingers tapping lightly against his thigh. His shadows curled protectively around him, their movement reflecting his unease.

“Az,” Cassian said, his voice softer now. “We’ll take care of her like she’s our own. You know that. And if anything happens—anything at all—you’ll be the first to know.”

Rhys nodded in agreement. “She’s in good hands, brother. Go sort out the camp mess and come back to her. She’ll be fine.”

Azriel exhaled deeply, his gaze softening as he looked at Kaia once more. After a long pause, he gave a small nod. “Alright. I’ll go. But if anything happens, I expect to know immediately.”

“Of course,” Rhys said, clapping a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Now, get some rest tonight. You’ll need it if you’re flying out first thing tomorrow.”

Azriel’s gaze lingered on Kaia as she slept peacefully on the couch, her tiny form curled into the blanket. He could feel the weight of his decision to leave, the protective instinct that surged through him, but he knew the task ahead was necessary. He stood slowly, intending to lift Kaia and carry her to her room for the night, his heart heavy with the thought of being away from her.

Just as he stepped forward, Rhysand’s voice broke the silence.

“Az,” Rhys said, his tone soft but firm. “Leave her. We’ll take care of her while you get some rest. You need to be at your best tomorrow.”

Cassian, who had been quietly observing from the doorway, added with a reassuring grin, “We’ve got this, Shadowsinger. Go sleep. Kaia’s in good hands with us.”

Azriel paused, his gaze flicking between his brothers. He opened his mouth to argue, but the fatigue he’d been pushing aside all day hit him like a wave. His shoulders slumped slightly as he realized they were right. He hadn’t slept much, and the journey tomorrow would require all of his focus.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice tinged with doubt. His gaze drifted back to Kaia, still wrapped in the warmth of the blanket, completely unaware of the growing distance between them.

Rhys stepped forward, giving his brother a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “We’re sure, Azriel. You can’t be at your best if you’re exhausted. Let us take over for tonight. You’ll be back before you know it.”

Cassian’s grin widened. “Besides, I’m pretty sure Kaia’s getting more comfortable with me than you these days.”

Azriel’s brow furrowed, and he turned his gaze back to his daughter. She was resting soundly, her breathing even and calm. It wasn’t easy to leave, but he knew the safety of the camp depended on him.

Finally, he gave a small nod, stepping back reluctantly. “Alright. But if she wakes up…”

“We’ll handle it, Az,” Rhys said firmly. “Go rest. You’ll be back before you even miss a beat.”

Azriel hesitated for a moment longer before turning toward the stairs. As he made his way to his room, he cast one last glance over his shoulder, his shadows curling protectively around him even though he trusted his brothers completely.

“I’ll be back before she knows I’m gone,” he murmured to himself, his heart heavy but determined.

Once Azriel disappeared up the stairs, Rhysand and Cassian exchanged a glance. The room was quiet now, save for the soft sound of Kaia’s breathing and the occasional crackle from the hearth. Cassian leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs out and folding his arms behind his head, a thoughtful expression settling over his face.

“You know,” Cassian began, his voice low to avoid disturbing Kaia, “I never thought I’d see Azriel like this. Completely head over heels for that little one. It’s... different.”

Rhys chuckled softly, leaning against the edge of the table. “Different is an understatement. Did you see the way he was looking at her just now? Like she’s the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.”

Cassian smirked, shaking his head. “I don’t blame him. She’s adorable. And she’s got his eyes—those big, soulful eyes that just make you want to give her the world.” He paused, his tone turning teasing. “Not to mention, she’s got him wrapped around her little finger. Did you notice how he didn’t even argue when she demanded two bedtime stories last night?”

Rhys raised a brow, his lips curving into a mischievous smile. “Az? Not arguing? That’s a first. Kaia might be the only person who can command him without a single word of protest.”

Cassian laughed quietly, his broad shoulders shaking. “Honestly, it’s a little terrifying how much power she has over him. But it’s good for him, you know? Az needed something—or someone—to break through that wall of his. Kaia did that without even trying.”

Rhys nodded, his expression softening as he glanced at the sleeping toddler. “She’s brought out a side of him we never thought we’d see. A side even Y/N couldn’t fully reach. Don’t get me wrong, she’s his world, but Kaia... she’s something else entirely.”

Cassian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Do you think he worries too much about her, though? I mean, the way he hesitated about going to the camp tomorrow—it’s like he can’t bear to be apart from her, even for a day.”

Rhys sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Of course he worries. She’s his daughter, and she’s so small, so fragile compared to what we’ve dealt with with the boys. But that’s just Azriel. He’s always been the protector, the one who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. Kaia’s just added to that weight.”

Cassian nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, but she’s also lightened it in a way. You can see it in his eyes—he’s happier now. More at peace. Even with everything going on, he’s... softer.”

Rhys smirked. “Softer, yes. But don’t tell him that. He might actually throw you out the window this time.”

Cassian chuckled, leaning back again. “Noted. Still, it’s good to see him like this. And if he’s trusting us with her tonight, it means he knows we’ll take care of her.” He tilted his head toward Kaia, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “She might be tiny, but she’s already got the Shadowsinger’s stubborn streak.”

Rhys laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, she’s definitely her father’s daughter. We’re in for it when she grows up, that’s for sure.”

They both fell silent for a moment, their gazes drifting to Kaia. Despite their teasing and banter, there was an unspoken understanding between them. Azriel’s devotion to his daughter was something they both respected deeply, and they’d do whatever it took to protect her in his absence.

Cassian broke the silence with a smirk. “So, what are the odds she’s awake in five minutes, asking for a snack?”

Rhys chuckled, glancing at the clock. “Oh, I’d say pretty high. Better get ready—Az will never let us hear the end of it if we mess this up.”

Cassian grinned. “Bring it on. I’ve faced worse than a grumpy toddler. I think.”

Rhysand let out a low, amused chuckle, his shoulders shaking as he leaned back against the table. His violet eyes gleamed with mischief as he looked over at Cassian, who was now trying—and failing—to untangle one of his sons’ cloaks from the back of a chair.

“Cass, you can barely keep your three in line,” Rhys teased, his grin widening. “And you think you’ll be fine with Kaia added to the mix? Let’s be honest, she’s smarter than all three of your boys combined—and probably smarter than you too.”

Cassian groaned, finally yanking the cloak free, only to find it ripped slightly at the seam. He held it up with a sheepish grin. “First of all, this was already torn. And second, I’ll have you know I’m an excellent multitasker. Handling three boys and one tiny shadowling is a piece of cake.”

Rhys raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “Right. The same multitasking that led to Torran and Emrus turning the entire second floor into a battlefield last week? Or was it the time Calen painted your leathers because you ‘weren’t paying attention’?”

Cassian waved him off, though his cheeks tinted slightly. “Minor hiccups. Kids are kids, Rhys. They’re supposed to make a mess. Besides, Kaia’s an angel compared to my boys. How hard can it be?”

Rhys snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “An angel? Did you miss the part where she stole Azriel’s daggers last month and tried to hide them under the couch because she thought they were ‘shiny’? She’s not just an angel—she’s a sneaky little shadowling with more cunning than all of us combined.”

Cassian shrugged, unfazed. “She’s two, Rhys. How much trouble can she really cause?”

Rhys threw his head back and laughed, the sound rich and echoing through the room. “Oh, Cass. Famous last words. Let’s just hope she doesn’t team up with Calen. I’m not sure the cabin—or you—would survive.”

Cassian smirked, tossing the ripped cloak onto the nearest chair. “If that happens, I’ll blame you. You’re the one who convinced Az to leave her with us, after all.”

Rhys grinned, his eyes sparkling with humor. “You’re on your own, brother. Just don’t come crying to me when Kaia outsmarts you and the boys band together to take over the cabin.”

Cassian chuckled, shaking his head as he glanced toward Kaia, still sleeping soundly. “She’ll be fine. I’ve got this.”

Rhys gave him a knowing look, his grin never faltering. “If by ‘got this’ you mean you’re about to be completely outmatched by a toddler, then yes, Cassian. You’ve definitely ‘got this.’”

Kaia stirred under the blanket, her tiny body shifting as she blinked her sleepy eyes open. Her dark lashes fluttered, and for a moment, she stayed still, her little face scrunching as if debating whether to wake fully. Then, with a soft yawn that revealed her tiny teeth, she wriggled out of the blanket, her dishevelled curls sticking up in every direction.

“Dada?” she murmured groggily, her voice soft and still thick with sleep.

Cassian and Rhys exchanged a glance, both freezing like guilty children caught in the act. Rhys crouched down to her level, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“Hey, little shadowling,” Rhys greeted her softly. “Your dad went to get some rest. You’re stuck with us for now.”

Kaia blinked up at him, her tiny face thoughtful as if processing his words. Then she rubbed her eyes with her fists and let out another yawn.

“No Dada?” she asked, her tone slightly indignant now.

Cassian stepped forward with a grin, crouching beside Rhys. “Don’t worry, Kaia. We’re here to take care of you. You’ve got me, Uncle Cassy, and Uncle Rhysie. What more could you need?”

Kaia tilted her head, her sharp, Azriel-like eyes narrowing in clear suspicion. “Dada betta,” she mumbled, clutching the blanket to her chest as if it offered some sort of protection from these two uncles.

Rhys chuckled, his shoulders shaking as he glanced at Cassian. “Well, she’s not wrong.”

Kaia’s gaze flicked between them before she reached her tiny hands out toward Rhys, her bottom lip jutting out in a slight pout. “Up, Rhysie,” she demanded, her toddler voice firm despite her small size.

Rhys, unable to resist her, scooped her up into his arms, settling her on his hip. “Alright, shadowling. What’s the plan? Are we going to sit quietly, or are you going to join your cousins in their chaos sleeps?”

Kaia laid her head on his shoulder, her eyes half-lidded with sleepiness. “No chaos. No loud,” she murmured, her voice muffled against his shirt.

Cassian laughed loudly at that, earning a sharp look from Kaia. “Too loud!” she scolded, her tiny hand patting Rhys’s shoulder as if to emphasize her point.

“See?” Rhys teased, smirking at Cassian. “She’s already taking charge. I told you she’s the smartest one here.”

Kaia hummed sleepily, snuggling closer to Rhys. “Dada come back?” she asked quietly, her small hand fisting his shirt.

Rhys rubbed her back soothingly. “He’ll be back soon, Kaia. But for now, you’re stuck with us.”

Kaia didn’t respond, but the way her eyes drifted closed again suggested she wasn’t too upset about the arrangement—for now.

Rhys smiled softly as he looked down at Kaia, who was now dozing lightly on his shoulder, her tiny fingers still clutching his shirt. He brushed a stray curl from her forehead, his expression unusually tender.

“You know,” he said quietly, careful not to wake her, “I’ve always kind of wanted a daughter. There’s just something about them. They’re...different. Softer, maybe. Or maybe it’s because they can wrap you around their little fingers in a heartbeat.”

Cassian snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t let Feyre hear you say that. She’ll be dragging you to the Healer’s to reverse what she made you do.”

Rhys chuckled, glancing over at him with a smirk. “As if. Feyre would murder me before she let me suggest another kid. She barely handled Nyx as a toddler.”

Cassian barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “Nesta wouldn’t even entertain the idea. The second Calen started running, she told me I was done. And not just done—snipped. She practically dragged me to the Healer’s herself.”

Rhys’s laughter deepened, his shoulders shaking. “At least Feyre pretended it was my idea. Said something about how ‘three Illyrian warriors in the house is enough for one lifetime.’”

Cassian shook his head, grinning. “Cowards. They couldn’t handle another one of us.”

Rhys grinned, his eyes flicking down to Kaia, who stirred slightly but remained asleep. “Not sure I blame them. One Nyx is plenty of trouble. But...I don’t know. Something about having a daughter feels different.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow, his grin teasing. “Starting to sound like you’re jealous of Azriel.”

Rhys smirked, but there was a warmth to it. “Maybe I am. Kaia’s going to be trouble when she grows up, though. She’s got that look in her eye—sharp and calculating, just like her dad. And with Az’s temper? She’ll be unstoppable.”

Cassian grinned, leaning back and folding his arms behind his head. “Good thing she’s got us around to spoil her. If Az isn’t careful, I might just claim her as my fourth.”

Rhys chuckled, shaking his head. “Good luck convincing Nesta to let you bring her home. Kaia’s got enough sass to go around—she might just turn your whole house upside down.”

Cassian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his grin mischievous as he gestured toward Kaia, still nestled against Rhys’s shoulder. "You think Az and Y/N are going to have another one?"

Rhys raised an eyebrow, adjusting Kaia slightly to keep her comfortable. "You mean after this little shadowling? They might need a breather first. She’s only two."

Cassian smirked. "Sure, but you know how Az is. He’s obsessed with that kid. If Y/N even hinted at wanting another, he’d be on board in a heartbeat."

Rhys chuckled, shaking his head. "True, but have you met my sister? She’s not exactly the most patient when it comes to sleepless nights. I think Kaia already takes up enough of her energy."

Cassian leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. "Yeah, but she’s got that soft spot for Az. All he’d have to do is give her one of those brooding, puppy-dog looks, and she’d be done for."

Rhys laughed, a deep, rich sound. "You’re probably right. Azriel could convince her of anything with that quiet persistence of his. And let’s be honest, Kaia’s adorable enough to make anyone consider giving her a sibling."

Cassian tilted his head, considering. "If they do have another, what do you think? Another girl or a boy this time?"

Rhys tapped his fingers on the armrest, his expression thoughtful. "Knowing Az, it wouldn’t matter. He’d adore them either way. Though...a little boy with Y/N’s temper? That would be entertaining to watch."

Cassian barked out a laugh. "Can you imagine? A mini-Azriel running around but with Y/N’s attitude? The kid would have the entire Night Court wrapped around their finger before they could even talk."

Rhys smirked, a glint of humor in his eyes. "Or Kaia would just boss them around like she already does with everyone else. Either way, they’d have their hands full."

Cassian stretched, his wings flexing behind him as he grinned. "I say we place bets. If they have another, how long before the new kid starts causing trouble? Kaia set the bar high—stealing Az’s daggers before her second birthday."

Rhys shook his head, laughing. "I’m not betting on my sister’s family planning. But if they do have another, I’m sure it’ll be chaos—and hilarious to watch from a safe distance."

Kaia stirred against Rhys’s shoulder, her tiny fists rubbing at her eyes as she let out a sleepy little whine. Her dark lashes fluttered open, and she blinked blearily at the room. For a moment, it seemed like she might settle back down, but then she wiggled, her small hands tugging at Rhys’s shirt.

“Rhysie,” she murmured, her voice soft but insistent.

Rhys glanced down at her, his expression fond. “What’s wrong, little shadowling? You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Kaia shook her head, her curls bouncing slightly. “No sweep. Wanna go ‘side,” she said, her toddler speech firm despite her grogginess.

Cassian snorted from across the room, trying to hide his laugh behind his hand. “She wants to go outside? At this hour? She’s got Az’s stubbornness, all right.”

Kaia turned her sharp gaze on Cassian, her little brow furrowing. “Not Cassy. Talkin’ to Rhysie,” she declared, her tone almost scolding.

Rhys bit back a laugh as he shifted her in his arms. “Outside? It’s night-time, Kaia. There’s snow everywhere. It’s cold.”

Kaia nodded enthusiastically, her little hands patting his chest. “Snow! Wanna pway in snow!”

Cassian leaned forward, his grin wide. “She’s persistent. What do you say, Rhys? Midnight snowball fight?”

Rhys shook his head, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “I’m not letting her freeze out there. Azriel would kill me.”

Kaia’s lip wobbled at his refusal, her big, teary eyes locking onto Rhys’s face. “Pwease, Rhysie? Wanna pway,” she said, her voice trembling just enough to tug at his heart.

Cassian leaned back with a laugh. “Good luck saying no to that. She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

Rhys sighed dramatically, pretending to be defeated. “Kaia, it’s cold and dark. But how about this? If you go back to sleep now, I’ll take you out to play first thing in the morning. Deal?”

Kaia considered this, her little face scrunching in thought. “Pwomise?”

Rhys nodded, holding up a hand. “I promise. First thing in the morning, snowball fights and snow angels.”

Kaia finally seemed satisfied, snuggling back against his shoulder. “Okay...but Rhysie better not forget.”

Cassian shook his head, chuckling softly. “She’s got you, brother. Good luck living up to that promise.”

Rhys smirked, patting Kaia’s back as she drifted off again. “Just wait until morning. We’ll see who wins the snowball fight.”

Kaia shifted in Rhys’s arms, her little body restless as she tried to find a comfortable spot. She let out a soft sigh, her dark lashes fluttering as she attempted to settle.

But after a few moments, she squirmed again, her tiny fists rubbing at her eyes. “Can’t sweep,” she mumbled, her voice quiet but full of frustration.

Rhys looked down at her, his brows raising in amusement. “Can’t sleep, huh?”

Kaia shook her head, her curls brushing against his chest. “No sweep. Eyes no close,” she explained, her toddler logic making perfect sense to her.

Cassian chuckled from across the room, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall. “She’s too stubborn, just like her dad. She’s going to wear you out, Rhys.”

Kaia shot him a glare, her little nose scrunching. “No stubborn. Wanna pway!”

Rhys smirked, adjusting her in his arms. “You know, Kaia, it’s very late. Even the snow is sleeping.”

Kaia’s eyes widened, and she tilted her head at him. “Snow sweep?”

Cassian nearly choked on his laughter, turning away to compose himself.

Rhys nodded solemnly, fighting back his own grin. “Oh, yes. Snowflakes need rest too. They work hard falling all day.”

Kaia seemed to ponder this for a moment, her tiny fingers fidgeting with the fabric of his shirt. “But...but I no tire,” she finally said, her voice a little quieter now, as if trying to convince herself.

Rhys pressed a kiss to her curls, his tone soothing. “How about we try, just for a little bit? Close your eyes, and if you’re still not sleepy after a while, we’ll think of something else. Deal?”

Kaia hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “Deal...but no sweep yet.”

Rhys cradled her a little closer, gently rocking her in his arms. “We’ll see, little shadowling. We’ll see.”

Cassian leaned back in his chair, grinning. “I’m betting she lasts five more minutes before she’s out again.”

Kaia’s eyes narrowed at him, her little voice firm. “No sweep!”

Both males laughed softly as Kaia huffed, snuggling closer to Rhys but still determined to stay awake.

Rhys sighed, bouncing Kaia lightly as she continued to fidget. “All right, little shadowling, since you can’t sleep with me, let’s see if Cassian’s big, loud arms can tire you out.”

Kaia blinked up at him, her dark eyes narrowing. “No Cassy,” she protested, her tiny hands clutching at his shirt.

Cassian, sitting sprawled in a chair nearby, grinned and opened his arms dramatically. “Come on, Kaia. Uncle Cassy’s warm and cozy. I promise not to be too loud.”

Kaia turned her head to glare at him. “You too noisy. No want Cassy!”

Rhys chuckled, shaking his head. “Too noisy, huh? Well, maybe you’ll make him quiet down for once.”

Ignoring her protests, he carefully shifted her over to Cassian. Kaia squirmed, her wings fluttering weakly as she pouted. “Rhysieee,” she whined, reaching back for him as Cassian scooped her up with ease.

Cassian held her snugly against his chest, feigning offense. “Hey, I’m fun! You just don’t know it yet.”

Kaia huffed, crossing her little arms and burying her face against his shoulder. “No Cassy. Want Rhysie.”

Rhys smirked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “You’ve got her wrapped around your finger, Cass. Let’s see if you can keep her entertained.”

Cassian grinned down at the stubborn toddler. “All right, Kaia, how about this? If you stay with me for five minutes and still want Rhys, I’ll hand you right back. Deal?”

Kaia peeked up at him suspiciously, her brow furrowed. “Pwomise?”

Cassian held up his hand solemnly. “I promise. But I’m pretty sure I can win you over before then.”

Kaia didn’t look convinced, but she let out a resigned sigh, settling against him begrudgingly. “Okay...no loud,” she warned, poking his chest with her tiny finger.

Rhys laughed softly, shaking his head. “Good luck, Cassian. She’s tougher to win over than the Illyrians at camp.”

Cassian smirked as he began rocking her gently. “Oh, please. I’ve got this. By the end of the night, she’ll be asking for Cassy instead of Rhysie.”

Kaia made a disbelieving noise, muffled against his shirt, and both males chuckled, the sound filling the room as she began to relax slightly in Cassian’s arms.

As Kaia settled reluctantly against Cassian’s broad chest, her little fingers fidgeted against his shirt. She let out a soft huff, still pouting about being handed over.

Cassian, ever the charmer, gave her a grin. “What’s the matter, Kaia? I’m way comfier than Rhysie. Don’t you think?”

Kaia looked up at him, her dark brows knitting together in toddler indignation. “No.”

Cassian laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Tough crowd. All right, what can Uncle Cassy do to make you smile?”

Instead of answering, Kaia raised her small hand and grabbed a lock of his dark hair, giving it a gentle tug.

“Hey!” Cassian exclaimed, his grin widening as he leaned back slightly. “What’s that for, little shadow?”

Kaia’s lips twitched, as if she was trying not to smile. “Hair funny,” she mumbled, giving it another playful tug.

Rhys, watching from his spot against the wall, smirked. “Looks like she’s testing your patience, Cass. Maybe she thinks you need a new hairstyle.”

Cassian glanced at Rhys, feigning offense. “Oh, please. My hair is flawless, thank you very much.”

Kaia, clearly unimpressed, tugged again, this time letting out a tiny giggle. “No. Funny.”

Cassian chuckled, reaching up to gently take her hand. “All right, little troublemaker. Let’s keep the hair-pulling to a minimum, huh? Uncle Cassy’s hair isn’t as strong as daddy’s.”

Kaia tilted her head, considering this, before giving a final, cheeky tug. “Cassy hair no strong!”

Both males burst into laughter at her declaration, and even Kaia let out a small giggle, finally relaxing in Cassian’s arms.

As Kaia snuggled deeper into Cassian’s arms, her little body began to stiffen, her face scrunching in a way that suggested something was bothering her. Her small fingers, which had been fidgeting with his shirt, slowed to a halt, and she let out a soft whimper.

Cassian paused, looking down at her with a raised brow. “What’s wrong now, little shadow?”

Kaia’s lip trembled slightly, her eyes filling with an unspoken sadness. “Want mama,” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper, but it was clear as day to Cassian.

Cassian’s heart softened, and he gently ran a hand over her dark curls. “You miss her already, huh?” he asked, his voice gentle, though his teasing nature faded as he saw the way her little face crumpled.

Kaia nodded, the whimper turning into a small sob. “Mama...” she repeated, sniffling.

Rhys, still leaning against the wall, watched the scene with an understanding look. He stepped forward, his tone quiet as he addressed Kaia’s distress. “She’s not far, little shadow,” he said softly. “She’s probably just taking a break with Aunt Feyre and Nesta. We’ll bring her to you in just a week.”

But Kaia’s tears continued to spill, her small voice rising in sadness. “Want mama now...”

Cassian exchanged a look with Rhys, and though he was used to being the loud and boisterous one, he softened as he held Kaia closer. “You’ll see her soon, I promise,” he said, his voice calm and soothing. “She’ll be right back here, snuggling you, okay?”

Kaia hiccupped, her tiny body still trembling in his arms. “Want mama,” she repeated, more urgently this time, her little face pressing against his chest in an attempt to calm herself.

Rhys sighed quietly, shaking his head with a small smile. “She’s just like Azriel—stubborn to the core. You better get used to it, Cass. It’s gonna be a long night.”

Cassian shot Rhys a mock glare, but there was a softness in his eyes as he rocked Kaia gently. “Yeah, I’ve got this. Go get Azriel, will you?”

Rhys nodded and disappeared from the room, leaving Cassian with Kaia as she continued to whimper softly, still missing her mother.

Rhys carefully stepped into Azriel’s room, the shadows creeping along the walls as they adjusted to the dim light. Azriel was sprawled out in bed, a faint snore escaping from his lips as he slept, his wings tucked neatly around him. Rhys hesitated for a moment, then, with a wry smile, he knelt down beside the bed and shook Azriel's shoulder gently.

“Az, wake up,” Rhys said quietly, but firmly.

Azriel let out a gruff sound, his eyes flickering open and narrowing as he adjusted to the light. He blinked a few times, clearly not yet fully awake. “What’s going on?” he murmured, rubbing at his face with one hand as he yawned.

Rhys chuckled softly, folding his arms across his chest. “Kaia’s upset. She’s asking for you.”

Azriel’s expression softened instantly at the mention of his daughter. He sat up quickly, his tiredness forgotten. “Is she okay?” he asked, his voice thick with concern.

“She’s missing her mom. I think she needs you.” Rhys stood and gave him a small, knowing smile. “Come on, I’ll take you to her.”

Azriel nodded, running a hand through his messy hair as he rose from the bed. He was still in his sleep clothes—dark pants and a loose shirt—moving with a sense of urgency as he followed Rhys out of the room. His wings shifted restlessly behind him as if they too could feel his concern for Kaia.

They made their way down the hallway, the soft sound of their footsteps echoing in the quiet cabin. As they entered the living room, the soft whimpering from Kaia could be heard faintly.

Cassian was still holding her, but Kaia’s distress hadn’t settled. She was curled up against his chest, her face buried in his shoulder, and every few seconds, another whimper would escape her. Her small body was trembling slightly, the sadness evident in her posture.

Azriel’s heart clenched as he saw his daughter’s misery. He hurried over to Cassian, in front of him. “Kaia,” he said softly, brushing a few strands of her dark hair from her face.

At the sound of her father’s voice, Kaia’s eyes fluttered open, and her little face twisted with frustration. She reached out with one small hand, her voice shaking. “Dada…” she whimpered, her arms reaching toward him.

Azriel’s chest tightened as he gathered her into his arms, her tiny body pressing against his as he held her close. “I’m here, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

Kaia sniffled, still not fully comforted, but her sobs began to subside as she snuggled against her father. She shifted in his arms, her tiny hands clutching his shirt tightly. “Want mama,” she said, her voice soft and broken.

Azriel closed his eyes for a moment, his heart aching for his daughter. He held her tightly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “I know, baby,” he whispered. “But mama’s resting right now. You’re safe with me, I promise.”

Rhys and Cassian exchanged a quiet glance, knowing how much Azriel’s presence would help calm Kaia. Rhys stepped back, crossing his arms with a smirk. “She’ll be asleep in no time now,” he said.

Cassian nodded, though his usual mischievous grin was gone. “You’re the only one who can calm her when she’s like this.”

Azriel didn’t say anything at first, his full attention on Kaia as she snuggled closer to him. He gently rocked her, murmuring reassurances as she finally relaxed in his arms. He glanced up at his friends, his voice quiet but steady. “Thanks, both of you. I owe you one.”

Rhys chuckled softly. “No need for that. Just make sure she doesn’t give us any more trouble tonight.”

Azriel smiled faintly, his attention back on Kaia as her breathing slowly evened out. “I’ll try my best,” he said quietly, knowing full well that with his daughter in his arms, everything would be fine.

As Kaia’s breathing evened out in Azriel’s arms, Cassian and Rhys exchanged a glance. There was something so natural about the way Azriel cared for his daughter, the quiet tenderness that softened his usual stoic demeanour. It was a side of him they rarely saw, and it prompted Cassian to speak.

“You’re a damn good father, you know that?” Cassian said, his voice low so as not to wake Kaia.

Azriel glanced up from where he was rocking his daughter, his shadows curling faintly around her like a protective cocoon. “I’m just doing what she needs,” he replied quietly.

Rhys leaned against the doorframe, a thoughtful look on his face. “Have you ever thought about having another?” he asked casually, though there was genuine curiosity in his tone.

Azriel’s hands stilled for a moment as he adjusted Kaia’s blanket. He looked down at his sleeping daughter, his expression unreadable. “I’ve thought about it,” he admitted after a moment, his voice soft. “But… it’s not that simple.”

Cassian frowned slightly, leaning forward. “What do you mean? You and Y/N are incredible parents. I can’t imagine anyone better to handle another little shadow like her.”

Azriel let out a quiet sigh, his wings shifting restlessly behind him. “Kaia’s birth wasn’t easy,” he began, his voice tight. “She came three months early. Y/N was… in bad shape. The healers weren’t sure if either of them would make it.”

Cassian and Rhys exchanged a grim look, the memory of those tense weeks flashing through their minds. Azriel had been a shadow of himself during that time—distraught, restless, and consumed by worry.

“I’ve never been so scared,” Azriel continued, his gaze distant as he gently stroked Kaia’s hair. “Holding her for the first time… it was the best and the worst moment of my life. I was terrified of losing her. Of losing Y/N.”

Rhys stepped closer, his tone softer now. “We remember,” he said. “You were in hell during those weeks. But look at her now, Az. She’s strong, just like her mother.”

Azriel smiled faintly, his fingers still brushing over Kaia’s curls. “I know. She’s my everything. But I don’t know if I could put Y/N through that again. The risk…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

Cassian placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, his voice steady. “It’s your decision, Az. No one can tell you what’s right for your family. But I can tell you this—whatever you and Y/N decide, you’ve got us. Always.”

Azriel nodded, his gaze softening as he looked back down at Kaia. “Thank you. I just… I want to give her everything. And I know Y/N would love another child. She’s mentioned it before.”

Rhys smiled knowingly. “She has. I’ve heard her tell Feyre how much she’d love to give Kaia a little brother or sister. But you’re right to consider the risks. It’s a decision you both need to make together.”

Azriel’s voice dropped to a whisper, as if speaking his thoughts aloud for the first time. “Sometimes, I wonder if we’re meant to have just Kaia. She’s more than enough.” He paused, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “But then I think about what it would be like to hold another baby. To see Kaia as an older sister.”

Cassian grinned. “You’d kill it, Az. You’ve already proven that.”

Azriel’s smile grew as he looked down at Kaia, her tiny form peaceful in his arms. “Maybe,” he said softly. “Maybe one day. But for now, she’s everything I need.”

Rhys and Cassian nodded, their respect for their brother deepened by his unwavering devotion to his family. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the soft crackle of the fire the only sound, as Azriel held Kaia close, his love for her evident in every gentle movement.

-----

The bright sun filtered through the luxurious curtains of your room in the Day Court, casting golden streaks across the bed where you, Feyre, and Nesta lay tangled in a mess of pillows, blankets, and regret. The faint hum of distant birds outside did little to soothe the pounding in your head. You groaned as the sound of the door creaking open sent a sharp pulse through your temples.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Helion’s smooth, amused voice filled the room. “Or should I say, good evening? It’s already past two in the afternoon.”

A collective groan rose from the bed as Feyre buried her head under a pillow, Nesta flopped onto her stomach with a muffled curse, and you blinked blearily at Helion, who stood at the door with a smug grin and an air of smug satisfaction.

“Helion,” you croaked, your voice scratchy from the night before. “Why are you so loud?”

“Loud?” Helion placed a hand over his chest as if wounded. “I’m being positively gentle for a man who had to endure your drunken antics last night.”

Nesta peeked out from under her arm, her hair a disheveled halo around her head. “What antics?” she grumbled.

“Oh, you don’t remember?” Helion leaned casually against the doorframe, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Let’s see… there was dancing on the tables, a rather heated debate about who had the best wingspan in Prythian—”

“Stop,” Feyre mumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow.

“And, of course,” Helion continued, ignoring her, “the grand declaration from you, Y/N, that you could outdrink me any day of the week.”

You winced, rubbing your temples as fragmented memories of the previous night began to resurface. “Did I win?”

Helion chuckled. “Let’s just say the three of you are lucky you’re still alive after the amount of wine you consumed.”

Nesta groaned, reaching blindly for the glass of water on the nightstand. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

“Of course I am,” Helion said, stepping fully into the room and crossing his arms. “It’s not every day I get to see the great Night Court ladies reduced to this state.”

“Why are you even here?” Feyre muttered, finally sitting up and squinting at him.

“To wake you,” Helion replied with a theatrical flourish. “You’ve slept the entire day away, and there’s an entire court waiting to be graced by your hungover presence.”

You flopped back onto the pillows, groaning. “I don’t think I can move.”

“Nor should you,” Helion said, his grin softening into something almost kind. “You had your fun, and now you’ll suffer for it. But, if it’s any consolation, I’ll have food sent up to help with the hangover. Consider it my charity for the day.”

Nesta muttered a quiet thanks as Feyre reached over to squeeze your hand. “We’re never drinking that much again,” she said firmly.

“You say that now,” Helion said with a smirk, already heading for the door. “But give it a week.”

As the door closed behind him, the three of you exchanged weary looks before collapsing back onto the bed, the promise of food and a quiet afternoon the only solace for your throbbing heads.

You groaned as you rubbed your temples, the pounding in your head relentless. “I miss being in my hundreds,” you muttered, your voice hoarse. “I could drink like this and wake up feeling fine. What happened to that?”

Feyre snorted, even though she winced at the sound of her own laugh. She was propped up against a mountain of pillows, her hair sticking up in every direction. “I don’t know if that’s age or just poor choices. And I hate that I can’t remember which.”

Nesta rolled over onto her back, staring at the ornate ceiling of the room. “What exactly did we even do last night? Helion mentioned dancing on tables, but I don’t remember that.”

“Neither do I,” Feyre admitted, frowning. “Though I do have a vague memory of someone challenging someone else to a drinking contest.”

“That sounds like me,” you groaned, burying your face in a pillow. “Why do I always do this? Every time I think, ‘Oh, I can keep up with Helion,’ and every time, I end up half-dead the next day.”

Nesta laughed softly, but it turned into a hiss of pain as she clutched her forehead. “Do you think he was exaggerating? Dancing on tables feels a bit dramatic.”

Feyre grimaced. “Honestly? Knowing us, probably not.”

You sat up slowly, squinting as the light streaming through the window hit you directly in the face. “What do we even do from here? How do we recover from whatever disaster last night was?”

Feyre shrugged weakly, resting her head on her hand. “Step one: figure out what we drank. Step two: never drink it again. Step three: try to piece together the chaos.”

Nesta sighed, pulling the blankets up to her chin. “I’m not sure I want to know. If Helion’s smirk was any indication, we embarrassed ourselves.”

“Embarrassing myself in front of Helion isn’t even my biggest concern,” you muttered. “What if we made promises? Or said something incriminating? I don’t remember anything after, what, the third bottle of wine?”

Feyre groaned, flopping back onto the pillows. “I don’t remember anything past sitting in that sunroom. Did we even make it back to our rooms on our own?”

“Barely,” Nesta replied, shielding her eyes with her hand. “I vaguely remember Helion carrying someone. Was it you, Feyre?”

Feyre made a face. “Don’t remind me. I think he was laughing the whole time.”

You shook your head slowly, trying to push through the fog in your brain. “We need answers. But first, we need food. And maybe another century of sleep.”

Nesta smirked faintly, even through her hangover. “Agreed. But let’s make a pact: if Helion ever offers us another bottle of wine, we refuse.”

“Deal,” Feyre and you said in unison, though all three of you knew it was a promise unlikely to be kept.

You flopped back against the plush pillows, pulling a blanket over your face to block out the daylight streaming through the curtains. “Do you think they’re still alive?” you mumbled, your voice muffled by the fabric.

Nesta let out a low chuckle, though it was tinged with exhaustion. She adjusted her position, settling deeper into the bed. “Depends. How long do you think it took for the chaos to start?”

“Five minutes,” Feyre guessed, her eyes already fluttering closed again. “Nyx probably started something with Cassian’s boys, and Kaia probably got into something she shouldn’t.”

You groaned softly, turning your head to the side. “Poor Az. He was probably up all night. Kaia doesn’t sleep well when everyone is not home.”

Nesta hummed in agreement. “If anyone can handle it, it’s him. Though Rhys and Cassian… I’m not so sure. The three of them together with the kids is a recipe for disaster.”

“Disaster,” Feyre murmured sleepily. “It’s probably already happening. But honestly? Not our problem right now.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, though the sound came out weak and tired. “They’ve got it covered. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.”

“Even if they don’t,” Nesta added, her voice already fading, “we earned this.”

The three of you sank deeper into the comfort of the bed, the soft hum of the Day Court’s tranquillity lulling you back to sleep. Whatever chaos might have been unfolding back at the Velaris could wait. For now, the thought of dealing with anything beyond your pounding heads was impossible.

-----

The next morning at the cabin, a thin blanket of snow coated the ground, shimmering in the sunlight. The boys had already left for camp, their excited chatter and stomping boots long gone, leaving a peaceful quiet in their wake. Outside, Rhys and Cassian stood with Azriel near the edge of the clearing, their breath visible in the crisp air as they discussed his upcoming trip to the Illyrian camp.

Kaia played nearby, bundled up in a tiny fur-lined coat, her small wings peeking out from the back. Her boots crunched in the snow as she toddled around, scooping up handfuls of powder and tossing them into the air with delighted giggles.

Azriel kept glancing toward her, his shadows hovering protectively nearby. His jaw was tight, his eyes flickering with hesitation. “I don’t like leaving her,” he said, his voice low.

“She’s going to be fine,” Rhys reassured him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve got this. She adores us.”

Cassian grinned. “She’s got me to entertain her. What more could she need?”

Azriel shot him a flat look. “If she so much as cries, you’ll regret it.”

Rhys chuckled, shaking his head. “You worry too much. Go handle the camp situation, and we’ll make sure Kaia is happy and safe. Promise.”

Azriel let out a reluctant sigh, his gaze drifting back to Kaia. She had plopped down in the snow, her tiny hands patting together an uneven mound that was supposed to be a snowman. As if sensing her father’s attention, she looked up, her bright hazel eyes—so much like his—lighting up.

“Dada!” she squealed, scrambling to her feet. Her wings flared slightly as she ran toward him, stumbling a little in the snow but determined to reach him.

Azriel crouched down just in time to catch her as she barreled into him, her tiny arms wrapping tightly around his neck. “What is it, love?” he asked softly, holding her close.

“No go, Dada!” she said, her voice muffled against his coat. “Stay wif me.”

Azriel’s heart clenched as he pulled back to look at her. “I’ll be back soon, Kaia. Uncle Rhys and Uncle Cassian will take care of you while I’m gone.”

Kaia’s lower lip stuck out in a pout. “No like it,” she mumbled, her little hands clutching his shoulders.

Rhys stepped closer, crouching down beside them. “Kaia, sweetheart, we’re going to have so much fun. You’ll see.”

Kaia turned her head to glare at him, her pout deepening. “No fun wif you. Too bossy.”

Cassian barked a laugh, earning a glare from Azriel. “She’s got you figured out already, Rhys.”

Azriel kissed the top of Kaia’s head, his lips lingering against her soft hair. “I’ll miss you too, my star,” he murmured. “But I’ll be back before you know it.”

Kaia sniffled, her small hands framing his face as she leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Miss you, Dada.”

He hugged her tightly one last time before standing, reluctantly placing her back on the ground. Kaia tugged on his coat, her hazel eyes wide with emotion. “Dada, hug ‘gain?”

Azriel smiled softly and knelt again, wrapping her in his arms for one more hug. “Always, Kaia,” he whispered.

Rhys finally stepped in, scooping Kaia up into his arms to distract her. “Come on, little star. Let’s go make some hot chocolate while Dada gets ready.”

Kaia clung to Rhys, watching over his shoulder as Azriel straightened and adjusted his coat. Her small hand waved frantically. “Bye, Dada! Wove you!”

“Love you too, Kaia,” Azriel called back, his voice steady despite the ache in his chest.

As he turned to leave, his shadows trailed after him, but his thoughts lingered on the tiny, determined girl who had stolen his heart.

As Azriel disappeared into the tree line, Kaia’s hazel eyes stayed glued to where he had been, her little face pouting in concentration. She wriggled in Rhysand’s arms, tugging at his collar.

“Uncle Rhysie,” she said, her toddler voice firm, “go lake now?”

Rhys glanced at Cassian, eyebrows raised. “The lake? Kaia, it’s cold out here. Don’t you want to go inside for some hot chocolate?”

Kaia shook her head vehemently, her curls bouncing around her face. “No choc’late. Lake!” She stretched her arms out dramatically, pointing toward the path that led to the frozen lake just beyond the cabin. “Pwease, Uncle Rhysie!”

Cassian chuckled as he leaned against the cabin’s railing, arms crossed. “She’s got her mind made up. You’re not winning this one.”

Kaia turned her big eyes on him. “Uncle Cassy, pwease? Wanna see da water.”

Cassian laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “You mean the ice, kiddo. That lake’s frozen solid.”

Kaia tilted her head, her lips pursing in thought. “Ice pretty!”

Rhysand sighed dramatically, bouncing her slightly in his arms. “Fine. But we’re just looking, Kaia. No running, no touching the ice, and absolutely no going out on it. Got it?”

“Got it!” she chirped, her wings fluttering with excitement.

Cassian shook his head, amused. “You’re going to regret giving in, Rhys.”

Rhys shot him a playful glare. “If you’re so sure, you’re welcome to come supervise.”

Kaia clapped her hands, thrilled. “Uncle Cassy come too!”

Cassian groaned but grabbed his coat. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go before you sweet-talk us into something even worse.”

Kaia giggled, wiggling out of Rhysand’s hold as soon as they reached the snow-covered path. She toddled ahead, her tiny boots crunching in the snow, her wings flaring for balance as she followed the trail to the lake.

Rhys jogged to keep up with her, shaking his head with a smile. “Kaia, you’ve got us wrapped around your little finger.”

She looked back at him, grinning cheekily. “Like Dada!”

Cassian laughed loudly, following behind them. “She’s not wrong!”

The three of them soon reached the lake, its surface gleaming with a layer of frost and ice. Kaia’s eyes widened in awe as she clapped her hands together. “So pwetty!”

Rhys and Cassian stood nearby, watching her as she crouched to inspect the snow around the edge, her little fingers brushing against it.

“She’s too much like Azriel,” Cassian muttered, smirking.

Rhys nodded, his expression soft. “She’s going to be a force to reckon with one day.”

Kaia looked up at them with a beaming smile, completely unaware of the pride and affection shining in their eyes.

Kaia’s hazel eyes lit up as a small brown rabbit darted across the snowy clearing near the edge of the lake. She gasped, her wings fluttering with excitement. “Bunny! Bunny!” she squealed, pointing at the little creature as it paused to twitch its nose.

Rhys chuckled, crossing his arms as he watched her. “Looks like she found a friend.”

Kaia crouched low, mimicking the rabbit’s position. Then, with a delighted giggle, she began hopping up and down in the snow, her boots barely leaving the ground. “Hop, hop, hop! Wike bunny!”

Cassian leaned against a nearby tree, laughing as Kaia’s curls bounced with each jump. “She’s got the hopping down, but she’s a little noisier than that rabbit.”

“Bunny hop!” Kaia shouted, flapping her tiny wings as she hopped again. Her balance wavered, and she landed on her bottom in the snow, but she quickly scrambled back up, undeterred. “Hop ‘gain!”

Rhys rubbed a hand over his face, trying to hide his grin. “You’re going to tire yourself out before lunch, Kaia.”

Kaia spun around to face him, shaking her head so vigorously her curls flopped side to side. “No tire! Hop more!” She crouched again, springing up with an exaggerated bounce. “Hop, hop, hop!”

The rabbit twitched its ears and scurried further away, disappearing into the trees. Kaia stopped, staring after it. “Bunny gone…” She pouted, her big hazel eyes turning to Rhys and Cassian.

Rhys crouched down, holding out his arms. “Come here, Kaia. The bunny went home, but you’re still our little hopper.”

Kaia toddled over to him, giggling as he scooped her up. She pressed her cold little nose to his cheek. “Rhysie hop too?”

Cassian snorted. “Oh, I’d pay good money to see that.”

Rhys raised an eyebrow at him, then looked back at Kaia. “How about Uncle Cassian hops instead?”

Kaia’s face lit up as she turned to Cassian, clapping her hands. “Uncle Cassy hop! Pwease!”

Cassian groaned, shaking his head. “You two are troublemakers.” But he pushed off the tree and gave a dramatic hop in place, earning a squeal of delight from Kaia.

“‘Gain! ‘Gain!” she cheered, bouncing in Rhys’s arms.

Cassian sighed, hopping a few more times before throwing his hands up. “That’s all you’re getting, little miss.”

Kaia giggled, leaning against Rhys’s shoulder with a content sigh. “Bunny hops fun…” she murmured, her energy finally waning as the excitement wore off.

Kaia squirmed in Rhysand’s arms, her wings flapping slightly as she pushed against his chest. “Down, Rhysie! Down!” she demanded, her tiny voice insistent.

Rhys tilted his head, giving her a mock-serious look. “You’re going to run off as soon as I put you down, aren’t you?”

Kaia giggled mischievously, avoiding his gaze. “Noooo…” she dragged out, not sounding convincing at all.

Cassian smirked, crossing his arms. “She’s got that look. You know the one Azriel has when he’s about to disappear into the shadows?”

Rhys sighed, setting her down gently on the snowy ground. “Alright, go ahead. But stay close, Kaia.”

As soon as her boots touched the snow, Kaia took off in a full toddler sprint, her little legs pumping furiously and her wings flapping for extra speed. She let out a triumphant squeal, her curls bouncing wildly as she bolted toward the edge of the clearing.

“Kaia!” Rhys called after her, already starting to jog.

Cassian burst into laughter, watching her waddle-run like her life depended on it. “She’s quick for someone so tiny!”

“Quick and reckless,” Rhys muttered, though his tone was full of amusement.

Kaia didn’t respond, too focused on her self-declared adventure. She ran in zigzags, her little boots crunching the snow as she tried to follow the faint tracks left by the rabbit from earlier.

Rhys finally caught up, scooping her up mid-run. She let out an indignant squeak, wriggling like a fish out of water. “No! Wanna run, Rhysie!”

Cassian joined them, laughing as he ruffled her curls. “That wasn’t running, Kaia. That was flying with your feet!”

Kaia pouted, folding her arms as Rhys settled her back against his chest. “Wanna fly…”

Cassian chuckled. “You’ll fly plenty when you’re older. For now, let’s stick to running in safe places, alright?”

Kaia sighed dramatically, her little shoulders slumping. “Okay… but next time, I win.”

Rhys exchanged a look with Cassian, both stifling their laughter at her determination.

Kaia began to wiggle in Rhysand’s arms, her tiny wings twitching as she pushed against his chest with her small hands. “Rhysie…” she whined softly, her voice carrying the unmistakable tone of a toddler who had been confined for too long.

Rhys adjusted his hold, pressing her back to him more securely. “Kaia, I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not happening,” he said, his voice calm but firm.

Kaia squirmed harder, her little feet kicking lightly against his sides. “Nooo! Down, pwease!” she pleaded, her hazel eyes glinting with frustration. She twisted, trying to look up at him with her best pout, her bottom lip sticking out dramatically.

Rhys sighed, shaking his head. “That look might work on Azriel, but not on me, little one.”

Cassian, walking a few steps ahead, turned around with a grin. “You’re fighting a losing battle, Rhys. She’s persistent—Azriel’s kid through and through.”

Kaia’s wings flapped again, and she leaned as far as she could to one side, trying to force Rhys’s grip to loosen. “No fair! Wanna down!” she declared, wriggling like a fish.

Rhys adjusted her again, tightening his hold slightly so she couldn’t slip away. “Kaia,” he said patiently, “the last time I let you down, you sprinted off like a wild rabbit. Do you think I’m going to fall for that again?”

Kaia’s brows furrowed as she huffed, blowing a small puff of air through her lips. “Pwease…” she tried again, softening her voice. When Rhys didn’t budge, she flopped her head dramatically against his chest. “Rhysie mean…” she mumbled, her voice muffled by his shirt.

Cassian laughed outright, shaking his head. “She’s got you pegged. Rhys, you’re officially ‘mean.’”

Rhys raised an eyebrow at Cassian, smirking. “I can live with being mean if it means she’s safe. Nice try, though, Kaia.”

Kaia let out a long, exaggerated sigh, her little hands gripping Rhys’s shirt tightly. “Fine,” she muttered, though she squirmed once more for good measure before finally going limp in his arms, clearly realizing she wasn’t going to win this round.

Rhys kissed the top of her curly head, his amusement evident. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured.

Kaia grumbled softly under her breath, her head resting against him as she gave in to the temporary defeat, though the glint in her eyes promised she wasn’t done trying.

As the crisp winter breeze started to pick up, Cassian pulled his coat tighter around himself and glanced at Rhys, who was still holding a now-quiet but visibly restless Kaia. The snowflakes had begun to swirl in the air, carried by the increasingly sharp gusts of wind.

Rhys shifted Kaia in his arms, noticing how her small wings trembled slightly in the cold despite her thick coat and scarf. “The wind’s picking up,” he said, his tone laced with concern. “It’s probably time to head back. I don’t want her wings getting stiff or chilled.”

Cassian nodded in agreement, brushing snow off his shoulders. “Yeah, the cold up here isn’t great for her. Little Illyrians aren’t built for this until they’re older.” He glanced at Kaia, who was now nibbling on her mitten-covered fingers. “She’s a tough one, though. Already lasted longer than I expected.”

Rhys looked down at Kaia, her curly hair peeking out from beneath her hat. “What do you think, Kaia? Ready to go back to the warm cabin?”

Kaia scrunched up her nose and shook her head. “Nooo! Wanna pway!” she declared, her voice muffled slightly by her mittened hands.

Cassian chuckled, crouching slightly to her eye level. “Kiddo, as fun as it is out here, that wind’s going to get too strong for your wings. We’ll come back out tomorrow, okay?”

Kaia’s pout deepened, and she turned her head to bury her face against Rhys’s chest. “No wind! Stay!” she mumbled stubbornly.

Rhys sighed, his expression softening. “I know you don’t want to leave, but we have to think about keeping you safe, little one. I promise we’ll come back out when it’s warmer.”

Kaia peeked up at him, her hazel eyes filled with a mix of defiance and understanding. “Pwomise?”

“Promise,” Rhys replied firmly, brushing a stray curl from her face.

Cassian straightened up and stretched. “Alright, let’s get moving before the storm decides to really hit. I’m not looking forward to carrying a cranky Calen back from the camp if it comes to that.”

Kaia let out a small, resigned sigh, her wings drooping slightly as she gave in. “Okay…” she said softly, snuggling closer into Rhys for warmth.

As they turned to head back to the cabin, the wind picked up again, blowing snow around their boots. Rhys held Kaia securely, shielding her as much as possible from the chill. Cassian walked ahead, breaking the path through the snow, his laughter occasionally ringing out as he teased Rhys about his “clingy sidekick.”

By the time they reached the cabin, Kaia’s earlier stubbornness had melted into quiet contentment, her small body relaxed against Rhys. Once inside, the warmth of the fire greeted them, and Rhys carefully set Kaia down, helping her out of her snow-dusted coat.

“There we go,” Rhys said gently, crouching down to her level. “Safe and warm. What do you say we find something cozy to do inside?”

Kaia nodded, her earlier disappointment forgotten as she toddled toward the couch, where her favourite stuffed animal awaited. “Pway inside!” she declared, her wings giving a small, happy flutter.

Cassian grinned from the fireplace where he was stoking the flames. “There’s my brave little snow angel. Welcome back to the warmth, Kaia.”

She beamed at him, seemingly ready for her next adventure, even if it was indoors.

Kaia grabbed her favorite stuffed animal—a plush dragon with soft wings and a mischievous grin stitched onto its face—and clutched it tightly to her chest. Her small fingers gripped it as if it were her most prized possession.

Without warning, she bolted from the living room, her wings giving a tiny flutter as she launched herself into a toddler sprint. Her curls bounced with every step, and her laughter echoed through the cabin as her bare feet padded rapidly on the wooden floors.

“Kaia!” Rhys called after her, his voice laced with a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Where are you going?”

Cassian turned from the fireplace, watching her dart out of sight. “Oh, no. She’s on the move again.”

Rhys pushed himself up from the couch, shaking his head. “She’s too fast for her own good. Did you see which room she went to?”

Cassian shrugged, a grin spreading across his face. “No clue. She’s like a tiny shadow, just like her dad.”

Rhys sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We can’t let her run loose in here. She’ll end up climbing something she shouldn’t.”

The two of them quickly started checking the rooms, opening doors and peeking inside. “Kaia?” Rhys called, his tone more playful now. “Where’d you go, little one? You can’t hide forever.”

Cassian poked his head into a small bedroom, scanning for the toddler. “Not here. I swear, she’s got Az’s stealth gene.”

A giggle echoed faintly from somewhere down the hall, followed by the soft thump of her tiny feet as she scampered further away.

“There!” Rhys pointed toward the end of the hallway. “She’s heading that way. Go left, I’ll go right.”

They split up, searching the cabin for the runaway toddler. Cassian checked the kitchen, glancing under the table and even in the pantry. Rhys peeked into another bedroom, opening the closet just in case she’d decided it was the perfect hiding spot.

Finally, they heard a faint creak from one of the rooms upstairs. Rhys looked at Cassian and raised an eyebrow. “Did she make it up there?”

“Apparently,” Cassian replied, already heading for the stairs. “We’re dealing with a master escape artist, clearly.”

As they climbed the stairs, they could hear her little voice singing softly to herself. When they reached the top, they found her sitting in the middle of a guest room, completely content as she played with her dragon toy.

“There you are,” Rhys said, his voice a mix of relief and amusement. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re causing, little miss?”

Kaia looked up at them with wide, innocent eyes, clutching her toy tightly. “No twouble,” she said with a small smile, her voice sweet and certain. “Kaia pway!”

Cassian laughed, shaking his head as he leaned against the doorframe. “You’re lucky you’re cute, kid. Otherwise, you’d be in so much trouble.”

Kaia just giggled and went back to playing, clearly not concerned about her brief escape.

As Kaia stood up, her wings flared out slightly, her tiny feet eager to run again. The moment she started moving, Cassian rushed toward her, eager to catch her before she made another escape.

"Gotcha!" he said with a grin, reaching out to scoop her up. But in his haste, he didn’t quite grab her the way he intended. His hands landed too roughly around her waist, one brushing too close to her delicate wings.

Kaia let out a sharp gasp, her body tensing as pain shot through her. A tiny squeak of distress slipped past her lips, followed by a wail of pain as her wings flared involuntarily, stretching in response to the discomfort. The pressure around her wings made her feel trapped, causing her to cry out.

“Ah, Kaia—!” Cassian immediately froze, his face going pale as he realized what he’d done. He had been too quick, too careless. He quickly set her down gently, his hands trembling slightly as he checked her face for signs of further injury.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” Cassian murmured, kneeling beside her as Kaia hiccupped between sobs, clutching her wings protectively. The pain was sharp but not enough to have caused any lasting harm, but it was enough to make her feel vulnerable and scared.

Kaia's little hands rubbed at the base of her wings where the pain had flared. She whimpered softly, her tears making her cheeks glisten. “It huwt...” she sniffled, her voice trembling.

Cassian’s heart dropped, and he looked over at Rhys, who had been standing nearby, watching in horror as the situation unfolded. Rhys stepped forward immediately, his expression full of concern.

“Kaia, sweet girl,” Rhys said softly, his voice soothing. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Cassian didn’t mean to hurt you, did he?”

Kaia looked up at him with big, tear-filled eyes, still rubbing her wings. “Huwts, Rhysie... wanna see mama...”

The sight of her in so much pain tugged at both of their hearts. Rhys quickly picked her up, cradling her carefully, his arms supporting her without touching her wings. He gently kissed her forehead. “Shh, it’s okay. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

Cassian stepped back, his face filled with guilt. “I didn’t mean to, I swear. I just wanted to stop her from running.”

“I know,” Rhys said, his tone gentle but firm. “Just... be more careful next time. Her wings are still delicate, Cass. Especially when she’s running around like that.”

Kaia nuzzled into Rhys’s shoulder, her crying slowly tapering off as she felt the comfort of being held. She looked at Cassian, a small frown on her face. “Kaia fwu... hurt...”

Cassian’s heart sank. “I’m really sorry, little one. Please forgive me.” His voice was soft, remorseful.

Rhys sighed, gently rocking her as he rubbed her back. “Let’s get you settled, little one. We’ll take care of those wings.”

Kaia nodded, her little hands still clutching Rhys’s shirt as she hiccupped softly. “Wings... hurt...” she mumbled again, sounding exhausted.

Cassian stood in the doorway, watching them carefully, promising to be gentler next time. He felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility to protect her, and in that moment, the weight of it hit him harder than ever.

Rhys watched as Cassian stood in the doorway, his shoulders slumped, his expression pained. It was clear that the moment Kaia had cried out in pain had hit him harder than he'd expected. Cassian, usually full of energy and wit, now seemed small and weighed down by the guilt of his actions.

Rhys sighed, moving slowly towards him as he continued to hold Kaia gently. “Cassian,” he began softly, his voice more calm than usual. “It was an accident.”

Cassian didn’t meet his eyes at first, instead running a hand through his hair, his gaze still lingering on Kaia. He was chewing at his lip, clearly replaying the moment in his mind. “I didn’t mean to hurt her, Rhys. You know that, right? I just... I didn’t think.”

Rhys stepped closer, now standing beside him, watching as Kaia snuggled further into his arms. She had already started to settle, though the trace of her tears was still visible on her little face.

“I know you didn’t,” Rhys said gently, his voice carrying a quiet authority, as if trying to ease the weight Cassian was carrying. “But you have to remember, her wings... they’re not like ours. They’re delicate, Cass. We all need to be careful when we’re handling her, especially with how young and fragile she is.”

Cassian swallowed hard, nodding slowly, his eyes still on Kaia. “I know... I just... I just wanted to stop her from running off again. She’s so fast, and I didn’t think.” He paused, his voice quieter now. “I really hurt her, Rhys. Look at her.”

Rhys glanced down at Kaia, who had fallen mostly silent now, resting against him, her little fingers still clinging to his shirt. The pain had faded, though she still seemed a bit shaken, her wings tucked close to her body for comfort.

“She’ll be okay, Cass,” Rhys reassured him. “You didn’t do it on purpose. It was an honest mistake. I did it way more than once with Y/N.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “And don’t forget, you’re not alone in this. We’ll all make sure she’s taken care of. You don’t need to carry that guilt.”

Cassian finally met his eyes, his shoulders still heavy, but the tension in his face easing slightly. “I just... I don’t want to be the one who hurts her, Rhys. She’s just a little thing.”

Rhys smiled softly, understanding the weight of his words. “None of us want that. And we won’t let that happen. But you can’t beat yourself up over every little thing. Kaia knows you didn’t mean to hurt her.” He paused, giving Cassian a small, reassuring pat on the shoulder. “We’re family, Cassian. We all look out for each other, especially for the little ones.”

Cassian nodded, his breath coming out in a slow exhale as he glanced down at Kaia once more. Rhys could see the relief start to seep in, even if only a little.

“She’s strong, Cass,” Rhys said with a slight chuckle. “And so are you. Just... be a little more careful next time, yeah?”

Cassian managed a weak smile, though his eyes still held that hint of guilt. “I will.”

As Rhys cradled Kaia, her big, teary eyes locked onto Cassian, who was still standing near the doorway, guilt written all over his face. Her tiny hands gripped at Rhys’s shirt for a moment before she reached one out toward Cassian, her lip trembling.

“C-Cassy?” she said softly, her toddler voice wobbly from leftover sniffles.

Cassian’s head snapped up, his hazel eyes wide with surprise. “Kaia?” he asked gently, his voice breaking slightly.

She squirmed in Rhys’s arms, her little wings giving a faint twitch as she leaned toward Cassian. “Not mad?” she asked, her words barely a whisper, as though she feared the answer.

Cassian’s heart twisted painfully. He immediately stepped closer, holding his hands out toward her. “Oh, sweetheart, no,” he said quickly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m not mad at you. Never. I promise.”

Rhys, sensing the moment, carefully handed her over to Cassian. Kaia settled into his arms, her little fingers clutching at his shirt as she rested her head against his chest. “Cassy not mad,” she repeated softly, her voice muffled against him.

Cassian wrapped his arms around her securely, his hand instinctively going to her small back to avoid her wings. “No, Kaia. I’m not mad,” he said firmly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her dark hair. “I could never be mad at you. You’re my favourite little troublemaker.”

Kaia pulled back slightly, her wide, tearful eyes searching his face. “Pwomise?”

“I promise,” Cassian said, his voice full of warmth. “You don’t ever have to worry about that, okay?”

She seemed to consider this for a moment, her tiny brows furrowing in a way that was so Azriel-like it made both Rhys and Cassian chuckle softly. Finally, she gave a small nod and snuggled back against his chest, her little wings twitching slightly as she calmed.

Rhys watched the scene unfold with a soft smile, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Looks like someone forgives you, Cass,” he teased lightly, though his tone held nothing but affection.

Cassian let out a relieved laugh, holding Kaia a little closer. “Thank the Mother for that,” he muttered, his hand gently brushing over her back.

Kaia, now more relaxed, let out a tiny yawn, her small hand patting Cassian’s chest as if reassuring him in return. “Cassy good,” she murmured sleepily, already starting to drift off.

Cassian’s chest tightened, his guilt easing as he held her close. “Yeah, Kaia,” he whispered. “You’re pretty good too.”

-----

The midday sun warmed the ornate balcony of the Day Court palace, casting soft golden light over the intricately carved table where you, Nesta, and Feyre sat. Plates of vibrant dishes—exotic fruits, fresh-baked bread, and delicately spiced meats—were spread out between gleaming goblets of water and pale wine.

Feyre leaned back in her chair, her golden-brown hair catching the sunlight as she sliced into a piece of honey-glazed pastry. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in one sitting,” she admitted, her voice tinged with laughter. “Helion’s chefs are showing off.”

Nesta, sitting to her right, raised an eyebrow as she delicately sipped from her wineglass. Her steel-blue eyes scanned the table, unimpressed. “They certainly know how to lay out a feast,” she remarked dryly, spearing a slice of fruit with her fork. “But I wouldn’t call it showing off until they bring dessert.”

You smirked, stretching your arms over the back of your chair. “I don’t know, Nesta. I think it’s already better than anything we’ve had in Velaris,” you teased, popping a tart berry into your mouth.

Feyre gasped in mock offense. “Traitor,” she accused, pointing her fork at you.

You shrugged, grinning. “I’m just saying, when was the last time someone in Velaris served us peaches soaked in starlight syrup?” You gestured to the glittering dish at the centre of the table, its contents shimmering faintly.

Nesta chuckled, finally breaking a smile. “Fair point.”

The three of you fell into comfortable conversation, the light breeze carrying the faint scent of lavender and citrus from the gardens below. Feyre told a story about Nyx’s latest attempt to climb a tree, which had resulted in both him and the poor tree landing in a fountain. Nesta shared an amusing account of her struggles getting Calen, Torran, and Emrus to sit still during a family dinner.

“You know,” you said between bites of bread dipped in herbed oil, “this is the first time in months I’ve eaten a meal without having to cut it into tiny pieces for Kaia.”

Feyre laughed. “I remember those days,” she said, her expression softening. “It’s nice to have a moment for yourself, isn’t it?”

Nesta’s lips twitched into a rare, genuine smile. “If by ‘moment’ you mean a full day without anyone yelling or crying, then yes, it’s very nice.” She reached for another slice of bread, her tone lighter than usual.

As the meal went on, the conversation drifted to lighter topics—plans for the afternoon, teasing guesses about what chaos the men and children might be causing back at the cabin. Feyre tilted her head toward the sun, closing her eyes for a moment. “We should do this more often,” she said softly.

You and Nesta exchanged a glance, both nodding. “Agreed,” you said, raising your glass in a small toast.

“Next time,” Nesta added, a hint of mischief in her voice, “we’re going to make them pack us lunch before we leave.”

The three of you laughed, the sound mingling with the warm breeze as you leaned back in your chairs, savouring the rare peace and the perfect company.

Nesta was the first to break the silence, tilting her chair back slightly as she gazed out over the sprawling gardens below. “Do you think they’ve burned Velaris down yet?” she asked dryly, though her lips twitched in amusement.

Feyre snorted, shaking her head. “If they have, Nyx is probably the one who lit the match. That boy has a knack for trouble.”

You chuckled, swirling the last of your wine in your glass. “Kaia probably helped. She’s in that ‘curious about everything’ phase right now. If there’s a disaster, she’s either in the middle of it or watching with fascination.”

Nesta arched an eyebrow. “Doesn’t that sound familiar?” She shot a pointed look at Feyre, who rolled her eyes with a smile.

“Oh, don’t start,” Feyre said, tossing a grape at her sister, which Nesta effortlessly caught. “Besides, I distinctly remember you setting Father’s study on fire when you were ten.”

“That was an accident,” Nesta replied coolly, though the faintest hint of pink crept up her neck. “I was trying to read by candlelight.”

You laughed, the sound ringing out over the balcony. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”

A soft knock on the doorframe interrupted the conversation, and you all turned to see Helion leaning against the doorway, his ever-present grin firmly in place. “Ladies,” he greeted, sweeping into the room with the grace of a predator. “Still lounging about, I see.”

“Helion,” you said, sitting up straighter but not bothering to hide your smirk. “Here to check if we’ve completely drained your wine reserves?”

He placed a hand dramatically over his heart. “Perish the thought. Though I must say, it’s almost three in the afternoon, and you’re still in your nightclothes.” He tsked playfully. “I expected more from such esteemed warriors.”

Nesta glared at him, though it lacked her usual bite. “I’ve had three children. Let me have my moment.”

Feyre nodded in agreement, raising her glass. “Seconded.”

Helion laughed, the sound warm and rich. “Far be it from me to argue with such formidable women.” He pulled out a chair, sitting with the ease of someone completely at home. “Though I must admit, I’m curious—what exactly did you three get up to last night? The palace staff have been whispering about it all morning.”

The three of you exchanged glances, trying to piece together the hazy memories of the previous night. Feyre groaned, pressing a hand to her temple. “I think we were… gossiping? And then someone brought out another bottle of wine, and after that…”

Nesta shook her head. “Don’t ask me. The last thing I remember is laughing so hard I fell out of my chair.”

You sighed dramatically, leaning back in your chair. “Whatever happened, I’m sure it was nothing Helion hasn’t seen before.”

Helion’s grin widened. “True, though I must say, it’s a shame I wasn’t invited. It sounds like it was quite the spectacle.”

“Next time, Helion,” you promised, raising your glass. “Next time.”

-----

Cassian crouched down in front of Kaia, holding out her little boots as she stomped her tiny feet on the floor, giggling. “Okay, little troublemaker,” he said, his voice unusually gentle. “One foot in, then the other. Let’s get you bundled up before you drag us all into the snow again.”

Kaia, her brown eyes sparkling like Azriel’s, lifted her foot and immediately pulled it back, wiggling her toes with a mischievous grin. “Nooooo! Tickles!” she squeaked, collapsing into giggles.

Rhys chuckled from where he stood by the door, holding Kaia’s tiny, fur-lined coat. “Cass, you’ve been outsmarted by a two-year-old. Again.”

“Don’t start, Rhys,” Cassian grumbled, finally managing to slip Kaia’s foot into the boot. “You’re not exactly winning any points, standing over there like a statue.”

Kaia’s laughter softened as she noticed Cassian’s focus on her. She reached out with her small hands, patting his face lightly. “Cassy not mad?” she asked in her soft toddler voice, her brow furrowing.

Cassian paused, his expression melting as he met her gaze. “No, sweetheart, I’m not mad. Never at you.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his voice low. “I’m sorry I hurt you earlier, okay? I’ll be more careful.”

Kaia tilted her head, studying him intently before giving him a big, toothy grin. “Cassy funny!” she declared, breaking into another fit of giggles as she patted his cheek again.

Rhys snorted, walking over with her coat. “At least she forgives you.” He crouched down, draping the coat around her tiny shoulders and fastening the buttons. Kaia squirmed a little but eventually settled, her eyes darting between the two men. “There we go,” Rhys said, standing and brushing his hands off. “One very bundled-up little girl.”

Cassian stood, scooping her up into his arms before she could make a break for the door. “And where do you think you’re taking us this time, hmm?”

Kaia pointed a tiny finger toward the door. “Snow! Big snow! Wanna find bunnies!”

Rhys raised an eyebrow. “Bunnies? I thought we were making snow angels.”

Kaia shook her head so hard her little curls bounced. “Bunnies first, then ‘angels. Then—” She paused, her toddler mind clearly working overtime. “Then cookies!”

Cassian laughed, adjusting her on his hip as he grabbed her scarf. “You’ve got your priorities straight, kid. Let’s go before you change your mind.”

As they stepped toward the door, Kaia leaned toward Rhys, reaching for him with her little arms. “Rhysie, carry!” she demanded.

Rhys raised his hands in mock surrender. “All right, all right. You’re the boss.” He took her from Cassian, settling her against his chest. She immediately grabbed at the edge of his scarf, tugging it playfully.

Cassian shook his head, pulling his own coat on. “She’s got us wrapped around her little finger.”

“Completely,” Rhys agreed, smiling down at Kaia as she babbled excitedly about the snow. “But honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As they trudged through the snow toward the base of the hill, Rhys adjusted his grip on Kaia, who was leaning forward with wide eyes, staring at the glittering blanket of white that stretched in every direction. Cassian followed close behind, his boots crunching through the icy crust, while they chatted about the boys’ training schedules.

Just as they were about to begin the climb, a figure appeared in the distance, running toward them with urgency. Rhys narrowed his eyes and held up a hand to pause their ascent. Cassian stepped forward slightly, his posture straightening, while Kaia, oblivious to the shift in mood, reached up and tugged on Rhys’s collar.

“Rhysie,” she said in her sing-song toddler voice, poking at his jawline with her little fingers. “Down! Wanna walk!”

Rhys glanced down at her, hesitating for a moment. “All right, but don’t wander too far, Kaia,” he warned, crouching to set her gently on the ground. “Stay where we can see you.”

Kaia nodded earnestly, her curls bouncing, and immediately began toddling through the snow. She hummed to herself as she went, her tiny boots leaving uneven prints in the powder as she stomped in circles.

The messenger reached them then, panting heavily. He was dressed in standard Illyrian gear, his wings visibly trembling from the strain of his journey. “My lord,” the man said, addressing Rhysand with a quick bow. “There’s trouble at the nearest camp—an argument has broken out over land disputes, and tempers are flaring dangerously. They’re requesting immediate intervention.”

Rhys frowned deeply, exchanging a look with Cassian. “How bad is it?”

“Bad enough that there’s been a physical altercation,” the messenger admitted, his expression tight. “We fear it may escalate further if someone of authority doesn’t step in.”

Cassian let out a low sigh, his breath misting in the cold air. “Sounds like we’ll need to head out sooner than planned.”

Rhys nodded grimly. “Agreed. Azriel’s already at another camp, so it’s on us.”

As the two began discussing the logistics of leaving the cabin to address the issue, Kaia wandered further from them, her tiny hands outstretched as she admired the way the snowflakes melted on her palms. She crouched near a patch of untouched snow, giggling softly to herself as she poked at the white expanse.

Neither Rhys nor Cassian noticed her subtle movements. Their focus remained on the messenger and their impromptu planning. Cassian suggested a strategy, while Rhys debated whether or not to inform Azriel of the situation immediately.

Kaia, meanwhile, had spotted a small cluster of icicles hanging low from a nearby tree branch. With the stubborn determination of a toddler, she began toddling toward it, her steps uneven but deliberate. The cold breeze tugged at her scarf, but she paid it no mind, too enthralled by her frosty discovery.

It wasn’t until the messenger left and Rhys turned back to continue their walk that he noticed Kaia wasn’t where he had last seen her. “Kaia?” he called, his voice calm but sharp enough to draw Cassian’s attention.

Cassian turned, his brows furrowing as he scanned the area. “Where’d she go?”

Rhys’s heart sank as he realized they had been so caught up in the conversation that they’d let her slip from their sight. “Kaia!” he called again, louder this time, his tone more urgent as his eyes darted around the snowy landscape.

Rhysand’s voice cut sharply through the crisp winter air. “Kaia! Come back here, sweetheart!” His violet eyes scanned the snow-covered ground, seeking the trail of her tiny boot prints.

Cassian immediately joined in, his deep voice echoing across the empty expanse. “Kaia! Where are you, little one?!” His tone was firm but edged with worry.

They both moved quickly, their heads swiveling as they searched for any sign of her. Cassian crouched briefly, studying the snow for fresh tracks, but the crisscrossing prints from earlier in the day made it hard to distinguish hers.

“She couldn’t have gone far,” Rhys muttered, though his tone betrayed his growing concern.

“She’s quick for her size,” Cassian replied, his brows knitting together. His hands flexed at his sides, and he cursed under his breath. “We shouldn’t have let her wander.”

“Kaia!” Rhys called again, his voice carrying more urgency now. The calm façade he usually maintained was slipping.

The biting wind whipped past them as they moved further from the hill, scanning between the trees and behind snowdrifts. Rhys’s shadows began darting out instinctively, swirling and stretching in every direction to assist in the search.

“Kaia, come on, baby!” Cassian called, his tone softening despite the edge of panic. “Where are you?”

A faint rustling noise reached their ears, and Rhys’s head snapped toward it, but it was only the wind shaking a low-hanging branch. His jaw clenched.

“She’s too small to be out here alone,” Cassian muttered, his eyes narrowing as he moved toward a line of bushes. “We need to find her now, Rhys.”

“I know,” Rhys snapped, his calm veneer cracking entirely. He lifted his hand, sending his shadows farther into the surrounding forest. “Kaia! Answer me, sweetheart!”

The silence that followed was deafening, save for the crunch of their boots and the occasional gust of wind.

Cassian straightened, his chest rising and falling heavily. “She wouldn’t just wander into the trees, would she?”

“She’s curious, Cass,” Rhys replied tersely. “If she saw something interesting, she might have.”

The thought made his stomach churn. Rhys lifted his chin and released another shout. “Kaia! Come back to us!”

The echoes of their voices faded into the vast, snowy landscape, and for the first time, a genuine pang of fear struck Rhys’s chest. They couldn’t lose her—not here, not now.

-----

Kaia’s tiny boots crunched softly against the snow as she followed the hopping bunny deeper into the woods. Her wide hazel eyes, so much like her father’s, sparkled with excitement. She giggled, toddling after the small creature, her chubby hands outstretched as if she could grab it.

“Bun-bun!” she squealed, her toddler speech barely forming the words. “Wait! No hop—stay!”

The bunny stopped briefly, its nose twitching as it turned to look at her, then bounded further into the trees. Kaia puffed out a little breath of frustration, her wings fluttering slightly as she continued her pursuit.

“Kaia get you!” she declared determinedly, stumbling slightly over a hidden root before regaining her balance. The cold nipped at her cheeks, turning them a rosy pink, but she didn’t seem to notice.

The trees began to close in around her, their branches forming a canopy that blocked some of the afternoon light. Kaia didn’t mind; she was too focused on her game.

The bunny paused again, just ahead, and Kaia crouched as if mimicking the creature. “Hi, bun-bun!” she whispered, her voice carrying a mix of excitement and awe.

When it hopped away again, she gasped, jumping to her feet. “Nooo! Come back! Pwease!”

She stumbled after it, her tiny wings flaring with the effort of trying to catch up. The ground was uneven, and though she tripped here and there, Kaia was relentless.

A cold breeze blew through the forest, ruffling her dark curls, but she was too enthralled by the bunny to notice the growing distance between her and the hill where her uncles were.

As the bunny disappeared behind a larger snowdrift, Kaia slowed, her little legs tiring. She looked around for it, turning in circles.

“Bun-bun?” she called softly, her voice trembling slightly. The forest suddenly seemed bigger, quieter. The playful giggles she had carried moments ago were gone.

She shivered, her small hands wrapping around herself. “Kaia find you…” she mumbled, her voice unsure now.

But the bunny was nowhere to be seen. The woods were silent, except for the faint whistle of the wind, and Kaia’s tiny face scrunched in confusion. For the first time, she realized she couldn’t see her uncles anymore.

“Uncle Cassy?” she called, turning toward where she thought the hill had been. “Rhysie?”

When no answer came, her lower lip trembled. She clutched the little stuffed animal she’d carried with her, holding it close to her chest.

“Dada?” she tried, her small voice barely above a whisper. The towering trees around her felt suddenly much larger, and the cold began to seep in through her thick coat.

Kaia sniffled, her brave pursuit of the bunny forgotten. “Kaia… cold…” she whispered, tears beginning to well in her big, hazel eyes.

Kaia wiped her little face with the back of her mitten, sniffling as she shuffled through the snow. Her tiny boots sank with each step, but she was determined to keep moving. In her toddler mind, staying still wasn’t an option.

She clutched her stuffed toy tighter, the familiar softness bringing a small sense of comfort. “Bun-bun?” she murmured again, her voice quivering. “Kaia find… Kaia not scared…”

Her small wings fluttered uselessly against her back, a reflex whenever she felt nervous. The forest seemed darker now, the trees casting long shadows that danced in the fading light....

And sadly for Kaia a forest is not a safe place for a child whose father has many enemies.....

Part 3

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel spymaster #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel imagine #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #az

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flickering-chandelier · 11 months ago

Text

Snow on the Beach

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Summary: As soon as Cassian and Reader run into each other, she feels the bond snap into place. But feeling unworthy next to the famed Cassian, she keeps it to herself, assuming that he would never find out the truth. Before long, she finds that she was very wrong.

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: insecure reader

Word Count: 4k

While walking Nyx to school on an early autumn morning, Cassian was certainly glad that the Illyrian soldiers could keep themselves in line for a day or two, giving him a respite to come home to Velaris and spend time with his nephew. It seemed to him that the boy was growing up far too fast; he could hardly believe that he was already in school.

“So kid,” Cassian said, gently steering Nyx away from the street with a hand on his back, “tell me about school. Have you made any friends?"

Little Nyx grinned. “Yeah!”

“I bet the other kids think it’s cool that your parents are the High Lord and Lady, huh?”

He nodded, “At first, they all thought it was really cool. I think they’re getting used to it now, though. Now everyone is talking about how Astrid’s mom opened that new restaurant by the rainbow.”

Cassian laughed, unable to resist ruffling Nyx’s hair. “Well, they do have good food.”

Nyx agreed, and Cassian took the tiny hand in his own once the boy started veering toward the street again. “Do you like your teacher?”

“She’s really nice,” he said. “She barely even gives us any homework.”

“Now, that’s a good teacher,” Cassian agreed.

Nyx chatted idly with Cassian until they got to school.

Cassian was surprised to see a beautiful young woman standing near the front door, greeting the kids as they filtered in through the building.

You smiled at Nyx as he and Cassian approached. “Good morning, Nyx! Who did you bring with you today?”

“This is my uncle Cassian,” Nyx said proudly, before turning back to Cassian and informing him, “This is my teacher!”

Teachers did not look like that when I was in school, Cassian thought.

“Hi,” Cassian smiled, extending his hand. You took it, your eyes widening slightly when your hand touched his.

“Nice to meet you,” you said. Cassian thought you sounded a bit out of breath. “Are you picking Nyx up today?”

Cassian said, “I am,” and was suddenly very glad for it.

You nodded, still looking somewhat dazed. “Okay, we’ll see you this afternoon then.”

Nyx said goodbye and bounded into the building, but Cassian couldn’t help but feel like something was off. “Are you okay?” he asked. “You look… a little pale, maybe?"

“I’m fine,” you said hurriedly. “Thank you.”

Cassian nodded. “Okay. Good.” Cauldron, why was he flustered now? “This afternoon, then. Have a good day. Good luck with the little ones.”

You laughed, thanking him, before Cassian turned away.

---

You could hardly breathe. And he had known it too, which made everything so much worse.

The last thing you were expecting today was to meet your mate three minutes before school started.

Cauldron. How could the Cassian be your mate?

You were fairly sure you recognized him as he was walking up, but didn’t want to assume. The High Lord and his inner circle were well known here, of course, but you had never met any of them besides Rhysand and Feyre, and that was only because Nyx was in your class.

Cassian was unlike any male you’d ever seen before. His biceps were the size of your head. He could snap you in half like it was nothing. And yet he was holding little Nyx’s hand in his, walking him to school.

Gods.

You were nervous enough about having the High Lord’s son in your class, but then a member of his trusted inner circle shows up, touches your hand, and the bond snaps into place?

And just like that, the commander of the High Lord’s army, the one that they’ve written entire books about, was your mate.

Yet, here you were, teaching arithmetic to a classroom full of tiny children.

It didn’t make sense. You had never heard of the Mother making mistakes before, but surely this was one. Why would someone that powerful have a schoolteacher for a mate?

Cassian didn’t seem to feel it when you had. Surely you would have noticed if it had snapped for him at the same time.

So, he didn’t know. And you figured it was better to keep it that way. You would sound foolish, telling this war hero that you were his mate.

And it wasn’t likely that you would see him again after today, anyway.

You just had to get through the day, and pretend that everything was normal.

By the time parents were back picking up their kids, you had managed to put Cassian out of your mind.

That is, until he showed up again, his massive wings tucked in closely behind him, his shirt spread tightly across his chest and his arms. Your heart leaped as you watched him make his way to the door.

Your mate. He was yours. Or at least the Mother thought he should be.

He smiled brightly when he saw you, and you immediately felt a pull on that invisible string that tied you to him.

It was an effort to steady your breathing when he finally stood in front of you.

Before you could say anything, one of your students ran into your legs from behind at full speed, causing you to stagger forward, into Cassian. He steadied you, his strong hands holding your waist, as your own hands involuntarily came to rest on his broad chest.

Cassian looked into your eyes for a moment, the side of his mouth tugging up into a smile. You got lost in him for a moment, in those hazel eyes that you felt you could see the world in.

Thankfully, you finally remembered where you were, and turned around and narrowed your eyes at your student. “Jan, buddy, we’ve talked about this.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, taking a step back. “I forgot.”

“I know you did, it’s okay,” you said, gently patting his back. “Why don’t you go play until your dad gets here, okay?”

You turned back to Cassian as he happily scampered off. Cassian’s eyes were bright as he smiled at you. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“Do what?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

He laughed, gesturing around, to the dozens of squealing children. “This. Stay so calm, being in charge of all these kids while they’re yelling and knocking into you.”

You shrugged, unable to keep the smile off your face, being so close to him. “It’s not that bad. It’s nothing like what you do.”

Cassian smiled, glancing around at the chaos that surrounded you both. “Well, you might be surprised.” His gaze landed back on you and you felt it like a shock down to your toes. “If you ever want to help me out with the Ilyrians, let me know. You might be better at keeping them in line than I am.”

“I highly doubt that,” you laughed. “With kids, you just need to give them a snack and they’ll love you forever.”

He pursed his lips slightly, seemingly thinking this over. “I might have to try that.”

You laughed. “Let me know how it goes.”

“Promise,” he smirked.

In that moment, you knew you could spend all day looking at him and never get bored. It scared you, that thought. You couldn’t allow yourself to fall for him. There was no possible outcome that wouldn’t break your heart.

You cleared your throat, taking half a step back. “You’ll probably want to find Nyx.”

He nodded, as if he too had forgotten why he was actually there.

As if on cue, Nyx bounded up, throwing his arms around Cassian’s legs. “Uncle Cassian!”

Cassian grinned down at him. “Hey, kid. Were you good for your teacher today?”

Nyx smiled shyly. “Yes.”

Cassian turned back to you, raising an eyebrow in question.

You smiled, nodding. “He was.”

“Good,” Cassian said, ruffling Nyx’s hair, before turning his attention back to you. “I’ll see you around?”

You nodded, though you doubted you would see him again. You tried not to dwell on that, on the fact that you had finally, finally found your mate, and you knew deep down that you could never have him.

Cassian glanced back over his shoulder, smiling at you once more after he had left and your heart missed a beat.

You desperately hoped that you would be able to go back to your real life, to forget about him.

---

Cassian couldn’t get you out of his mind after that day. The way you were looking at him…

Maybe it was just that you recognized him. You certainly weren’t the only woman who had looked up at him with big doe eyes.

So, why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?

It wasn’t just that though, he knew, as you danced around his mind once again. You were clearly incredibly kind and sweet. And you were funny.

He found himself smiling as he thought about you, and schooled his features back into his stern, commanding expression as he focused his attention back onto the warriors training in front of him.

But before long, he was thinking of you again, wondering what kind of snack would make the stubborn, bull headed Illyrians slightly less annoying to work with.

He would just have to focus, he told himself, until he could see you again.

Rhysand had given him a questioning look when he had asked to take Nyx to school again, but agreed.

It had only been a few days, but he was already itching to see you again.

He wondered if it was possible that you felt the same way.

---

Before school, you always took it upon yourself to usher idle children into the building, making sure they got where they needed to be while parents were busy dropping them off and making plans for pick up.

When you caught a glimpse of massive, outstretched wings, you felt a shock spark through your entire body.

Again? He was really dropping Nyx off again?

It had only been a few days since you had last seen him. Not nearly enough time to catch your breath, to force thoughts of him out of your mind.

That tug in your chest, that string urging you closer to him, was relentless.

You understood now, how people had been driven to madness after their mating bond had been rejected. It took everything you had in you to stay put, to keep yourself from running to him.

His bright smile as he approached, his eyes locked on yours, made your heart hurt.

“Hey,” he said, ushering Nyx into the building with a gentle nudge.

“Hi,” you said quietly, noticing now that nearly everyone had already gone inside or left. You were alone with Cassian.

He cleared his throat, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet. Was he… nervous?

“So,” he said, then laughed lightly, turning his face to the mountains surrounding the city, scratching the back of his neck.

“Cassian?” You asked, confused, and honestly, slightly impatient. You only had a few minutes to get to your class.

He leveled his gaze back to you again, his eyes twinkling in the sun. “Do you want to get dinner?”

That had not been what you were expecting, and you felt like your breath was completely caught in your throat.

Cassian seemed to take your surprise for something else because he started talking again, quickly, like he couldn't get it out fast enough, “Unless you don't want to. It's not a big deal, I was just thinking --”

“Yes,” you cut him off, and he looked relieved, his taut shoulders visibly relaxing.

“You're sure?”

You couldn't keep the smile off your face. “Very sure.”

His face lit up with a grin then, and you had to bite your lip to keep from grinning yourself. You balled your hands into fists at your sides, worried that if you didn't, you would launch yourself at him.

The two of you agreed on a time and a place, and then he was off, and you once again, had to go teach a classroom full of kids as if nothing remarkable had just happened.

By the time dinner with Cassian rolled around, you had convinced yourself that it was definitely not a date. Probably.

Just… casual dinner between two people who barely knew each other. Acquaintances went out for dinner all the time, right?

You forced yourself to take a deep breath as you waited outside the restaurant, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress that you had finally decided on, after trying on nearly every piece of clothing that you owned.

It was a habit of yours to always arrive early, and yet, you only waited a few minutes before Cassian sauntered up to you, like he didn’t have a care in the world. For about the millionth time, you wondered how it was possible that the two of you had been chosen as mates. You couldn’t be more different.

Cassian’s smile was bright when he was finally towering over you, greeting you with the usual pleasantries before placing his hand on the small of your back and leading you inside.

Your heart pounded in your chest at the contact. He hadn’t touched you since that first handshake, the touch that made the bond snap into place for you, like nothing you had ever felt before.

You wondered if it would do the same for him someday. What would his reaction be if he knew?

Disappointed, surely. Confused. Upset?

It was one thing to ask someone to dinner, but to be mates? To be tethered to somebody for life? You suddenly couldn’t bear the thought of him finding out.

Your mind was spinning by the time the two of you took your seats, and his brow furrowed in concern as his gaze settled on you. “Are you alright?”

You tried to brighten your expression, cursing your face for always being so easy to read. “Fine,” you said, and the smile became easier, more genuine, the longer that you looked at him. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, I guess. It’s hard to shut it off.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I understand. Do you want to talk about it?”

You winced. “Not really. It’s not that interesting, anyway,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “How are you?” you asked, before you could accidentally reveal something you would regret.

The corner of his mouth turned up into a small smile, his gaze locked on you. “Why do you do that? Dismiss yourself so casually?”

“What do you mean?”

“You act like what you do isn’t important, or like your feelings don’t matter.” He leaned in closer, bracing his forearms on the table in front of him. “But it’s not true. You have one of the most important jobs… ever. And from what I can tell, you’re really good at it.”

He relaxed his stance, leaning back in his chair again, his eyes never wavering from yours. “You don’t have to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you. But, I won’t let you act like it doesn’t matter, because it does.”

Stunned, you opened your mouth, completely unable to form a response. How could he read you so clearly? And why did he care so much?

Finally, all you could say was, “You don’t even know me.”

Cassian’s smile grew slowly. “I know enough. And I’d like to know more.”

The look on his face, the gravel in his voice, the words that he spoke, made heat rush to your cheeks. His smile only widened.

“What do you want to know?”

---

Cassian couldn’t wipe the grin off his face after that date with you. You had talked for ages, the two of you, and he didn’t think he had ever been so enamored by somebody. You told him all about your family, your friends, how you grew up, your favorite hideout in Velaris, when you just needed to get away from it all. And he had done the same, admittedly, showing off a little with stories from being in Rhysand's trusted inner circle.

But you didn’t fawn over him like some women did. You sat and listened, your eyes widening at all the right times, but it was like you really saw him. Not the version of him that people talk about in battle, but just… Cassian.

And he really liked that.

For weeks, you had consumed his every waking thought and, frankly, several of his dreams. The way you blushed when he smiled at you, the slight tilt of your head when you watched him animatedly tell stories, the way your eyes lit up when you saw him… all of it was driving him completely mad. He saw you as much as he could in those weeks, and though you seemed reluctant to show it, he could tell that you were excited to see him, too.

Winter was almost upon Velaris, and the air was crisp, but the sun was bright as Cassian sauntered up to the school, hoping that your afternoon was free and he could steal you away for lunch.

The sun's rays were shining on you like a beacon and he couldn't help but stare as you crouched down to be face to face with a kid, your smile bright as you undoubtedly said something encouraging to him.

In that moment, he felt like the ground was swaying beneath him as the bond snapped into place.

The bond that tethered you to him, that confirmed what he had been feeling all these weeks, that proved you were meant to be his.

For a moment, he was ecstatic, but that moment ended quickly as he suddenly remembered that first time you met, the way your eyes widened in shock as he touched you for the first time… you knew. You had known this whole time and you hadn't told him.

Did you not want to be his mate? Did you think it was a bad match? If that were the case, why on earth had you been spending so much time with him?

He stood frozen in place until the crowd of parents and kids had mostly cleared, his thoughts whirling.

Your eyes lit up when you noticed Cassian, but your face fell when you noticed his expression.

He could tell that you figured it out. That he knew. And that he knew you knew.

His heart broke as your eyes flooded with panic, and you turned from him, hurrying away without another glance.

Cassian followed, half debating flying above the city so he could see easier where you were going.

But before long, he knew your destination anyway.

You had told him weeks ago about the beach that you often went to when you needed to clear your head.

When he approached, you were sitting facing the river, your arms wrapped around yourself. The rocks beneath his boots cracked together and alerted you immediately to his presence, but you didn't turn around.

He sat next to you, wincing a bit as a rock dug into his thigh, careful to tuck his wings in so they wouldn't brush against you.

Your eyes remained on the water for a few moments, a storm inside them.

Finally, Cassian said, “Why didn't you tell me?”

Thinking, you bit your lip, and despite everything, it made his heart swell.

“I didn't think you would want to know,” you said, your voice small.

It took an effort not to physically reel back like you had slapped him. He fought to keep his voice calm. “Why not?"

You let out a humorless laugh, still not so much as glancing in his direction. “Why do you think?”

Cassian furrowed his brow, wracking his brain for any indication he may have accidentally given you that would make you think he wouldn't want to be your mate, but he came up with nothing. “I don't know,” he finally said. “Did I do something?”

Your eyes finally met his then, and he felt the urge to cry for the first time in centuries. You looked so defeated, so pained. What had he done to make you react this way?

“No, it's not that, it's…” you bit your lip, your brow furrowed as you held his gaze. “Cassian, you're a warrior. You're in charge of armies, you're one of the most powerful Illyrians of all time, you've literally made history. And I'm…” you gestured to yourself, “I'm nothing compared to you.” You shook your head, facing the water again. “I hid it from you because it doesn't make sense. It must be a mistake.”

Cassian's heart pounded in his ears as he tried to make sense of it. “How could you think it's a mistake?” He said, his voice wavering, but he pushed past it. “How could you think that way about yourself?”

His heart broke when he heard you sniffle, still avoiding his gaze.

Gently, he took your chin between his fingers and urged you to look at him. “It's not a mistake,” he said quietly. “I haven't been able to get you out of my head since the moment I saw you. Do you know why?”

Your bottom lip trembled and you shook your head as much as you could while he was still holding your chin.

“You're incredible. You're endlessly kind and patient. You dedicate your life to helping kids and teaching them how to be who they're meant to be. There wouldn't be armies to lead or healers to fix us after battle, or anything else, if we didn't have teachers leading us along the way.”

Your eyes softened then, and Cassian nearly sighed with relief but he kept pushing, to be sure you would believe what he was telling you. “And gods, you're beautiful,” he smiled, stroking his thumb across your bottom lip. “You drive me crazy.”

A laugh bubbled from your throat and his heart leaped. He shifted his hands so they were cupping your face. “We're meant to be together, you and me. It's not a mistake. And I don't want to hear you talk about yourself like that again.”

You nodded, smiling, looking up at Cassian with stars in your eyes. “I just can't believe you want me.”

“Well, believe it, because it's true,” he murmured, leaning in so his lips brushed the shell of your ear, “I want you more than I've ever wanted anything.”

He felt your breath hitch, and just then it started to snow lightly, the small flakes sticking to your eyelashes and in your hair.

“I want you too, Cassian,” you said quietly before cupping your hand around the back of his neck and pulling him closer, bringing your lips to his.

Cassian couldn't stop his groan as he pulled you closer, kissing you the way he'd been wanting to for weeks.

When you finally parted to catch your breath, he pulled you to his side, and you rested your head on his shoulder as the two of you looked out across the water, the snow still gently drifting down.

It didn't feel real, that he had finally found his mate, the one he was meant to be with. And it was you, who had been consuming his thoughts since the moment you met.

He felt so, so unbelievably lucky and he prayed that you felt the same way about him.

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @ecliphttlunar @melmo567 @headacheseason @sillysillygoose444 @halibshepherd @cigvrette-dvydrevms @lilah-asteria @marina468 @evergreenlark @bookloverandalsocats @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02 @azrielshadows1nger @andreperez11

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prythianpages · 1 year ago

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A Field of Dandelions | Azriel

azriel x green witch reader | Your High Lady calls upon you. requesting a remedy that only you know how to make. It requires specific ingredients found between the courts of spring and autumn and you're in need of an escort. Unfortunately for you, she assigns her Shadowsinger to accompany you. The Shadowsinger who hates you...or so you thought.

“Please don’t talk to me like that.”

“Why?”

“It’s cruel and heartless and you don’t even realize.”

warnings: angst but with fluff at the end, mentions of self-hate/abuse. pretty much Azriel thinking he's not worthy of a mate.

a/n: I've been re-reading the Shatter Me series and there's a scene between Aaron and Juliette that drove me to make this along with the song Dandelions by Ruth B. The dialogue above is directly from the book Unravel Me. I used them as a writing prompt along with the general gist of the scene and added my own twist to it. I just wanted to put that disclaimer out there.

The door opens before you can even knock and your dear friend and High Lady pulls you into a warm hug. She beckons you inside with a smile and your eyes dart around the various paintings adorning the walls, finding that some are new.

Surprise etches onto your features when your eyes land on the Night Court’s Spymaster. He stands at the end of one of the winding staircases with his usual stoic expression. Still as devastatingly handsome as always. You drop your gaze as quickly as you had met his and if he notices it, he doesn’t let it show. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge your presence.

Your ears pick up on faint crying. It grows louder and louder. Turning your head toward the source, your eyes land on Nyx. Despite being in the comfort of his father’s arms, his little features contort in pain. You greet your High Lord with a bow of your head, noticing the exhaustion on his face that mirrors Feyre’s.

“Is Mor on her way?” You ask, adjusting the strap of your bag. It’s full with all necessary tools and equipment you need for your venture.

Feyre had requested if you could make a tonic to sooth Nyx’s aches while he’s teething but your apothecary shop was unfortunately out of the main ingredient. Dandelion root. Not just any dandelion root but the ones that grow in the soil between the courts of Spring and Autumn and given the current tensions in Prythian and your status as a former Spring court inhabitant, it was not safe for you to go alone.

“Oh,” Feyre says as she takes the babe into her arms. You coo at Nyx and he blinks up at you, his crying coming to a stop. His lips tug up into a small smile and he wraps a tiny hand around your finger. “She is unfortunately caught up in Vallahan.”

“So then Cassian is to escort me today?” You ask again, looking up at your friend.

You catch the way she looks at Rhysand. They share a look and you know they’re communicating to each other through their mind. It’s Rhysand who answers you this time.

“Cassian isn’t fond of the spring, allergies and all.”

The Shadowsinger steps forward and your smile falls. You turn back to your friend, who gives you a sheepish smile in return.

“Azriel will be escorting you today.”

You almost want to say no. The thought of being alone with Azriel makes your stomach churn with unease and something else that you can’t quite discern at the moment. But Nyx begins to squirm in his mother’s arms with a pout and Feyre’s eyebrows knit in concern.

“Okay,” you sigh.

“Thank you so much for doing this,” Feyre says.

“Our son’s life is in your hands.”

Feyre slaps her husband’s arm with a roll of her eyes. “He’s not dying, Rhys,” she grumbles. “He’s just in some discomfort from teething.”

She then turns to Azriel with a stern look. The corner of her lips threatened to betray her. “Be nice.”

Azriel’s shadows envelop you both, whisking you away to the forest of the Spring Court. It was the safest of the two courts to winnow directly to. The air in the dense woods hangs heavy with the scent of blooming blossoms and you’re thankful for the muffled sounds of nature as it provides a soothing background noise, saving you from the awkward silence between you and the impassive Shadowsinger.

Azriel walks ahead, his movements graceful and quiet. His shadows cling to him like the loyal companions they are but some hover over your boots, silencing your own steps.

He finally breaks the silence. “You’re staring.”

You shift your gaze immediately and wonder if he can also sense the pink that dusts your slightly flustered face. “I’m just surprised you’re the one escorting me,” you answer honestly.

“It’s not like I had much of a choice,” he responds cryptically.

A slight tension settles between you, your heartbeat quickening as you follow him through the forest. “Right,” you say, your face growing pinker.

You shift the weight of your bag to your other shoulder and Azriel comes to a sudden stop. He turns, his hazel eyes scanning you for a moment. Without a word, he takes the bag from your arm, effortlessly hoisting it over his shoulder.

The unexpected gesture catches you off guard, and a quiet "thanks" escapes your lips. “You’re being awfully nice today,” you can’t help but observe, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in your tone “I think this is the most you’ve talked to me since we met.”

Azriel’s lips curve into an almost-smile. A rare sight that sends a flutter through your chest. “My High Lady told me to be nice.”

“Right,” you repeat quietly to yourself as you exhale, a futile effort to calm your fluttering nerves. It’s almost embarrassing the effect Azriel has on you and as the butterflies in your stomach stir, you hope that the rest of the day unfolds quickly.

Mates. Two individuals predestined to be together, brought together by unseen forces and an irresistible bond. Azriel once wondered if he had a mate but after centuries of living, he began to wonder if he was simply destined to be alone.

When his brothers found their mates and he still hadn’t found his, he started to think he was far beyond the reach of love. It was a blessing he could not have. He didn’t need a mate, so he convinced himself he didn’t want one. Romance was not part of his duties and he was starting to come to terms with the fact.

That is, until, he met you.

Nestled right on the outskirts of the area known as the Rainbow of Velaris was a quaint shop. The wooden sign above, engraved with dark letters spelling out Nightrose Apothecary, swayed gently in the cool morning breeze. Azriel had ignored the frenzied whirlwind of his shadows as he stepped into the shop.

Shelves made of twisted vines and wood were neatly arranged with rows of glass jars containing colorful powders, dried herbs and exotic roots. A friendly black cat, lounging on the sunlit windowsill, blinked at him in greeting. As he stepped further into the shop, his senses became overwhelmed with the prominent scent of lavender and chamomile.

Behind a worn, wooden counter is where you stood. You hummed to yourself, immersed in the book in front of you. He found himself unable to take his eyes off of you as you skimmed over the rough edged pages, your fingertips carrying an enchanting green glow and eyes filled with darkness.

You were a witch but it was no surprise to him. He had heard about you. You were a good friend of Feyre’s. One of the few people she could trust during her time in the Spring court. When the Spring Court fell into chaos, Feyre had brought you with her and helped you open up this shop.

His steps were silent and he’s sure you’re unaware of his presence, so he shifted, parting his mouth to speak–

“Hello, Shadowsinger.”

His steps faltered, eyes widening for a fleeting moment.

When you finally lifted your gaze to meet his, his eyes locked with yours and something deep within him awakened. An exhilarating feeling like no other. He felt light. He felt alive. And he was almost afraid to blink, not wanting the feeling to end.

His shadows peeked out from behind his limbs, curious to see what had their master in a chokehold. They dispersed from his body in a thrilled dance as the darkness left your eyes, revealing their natural color. They’re beautiful and sparkling with kindness, even as his shadows disobey his silent orders and slither up your arms in a cool greeting.

“I’m sorry,” he found himself apologizing, a slight tint in his cheeks. “They usually don’t do that.”

“It’s okay,” you brushed off his worry and he felt lightheaded and bewitched at the smile you directed toward him. “What brings you here?”

Azriel can’t help but feel that you already know why he’s there. He pulled his gaze away, choosing to focus on the crystal orbs on the counter instead. “My High Lady recommended I come to you. I’ve been having trouble…sleeping.”

The green glow returned to your fingertips as you beckoned a small clear vial from one of the shelves behind you. It’s filled with a silver liquid that glistened as it moved, mirroring the twinkle of the stars that light up the night sky.

“This should help.” You told him as you held out the vial to him. “Take a sip before you’re ready for bed and it should quickly pull you into a restful slumber. Some say it even brings forth sweet dreams.”

Azriel nodded his head, taking the small vial from you with a gloved hand. He stored it carefully into the chest pocket of his leathers. His hands then dug into the pockets of his pants but you held out a hand to stop him.

“It’s on the house.”

“But–”

“Any friend of Fey–the High Lady’s is a friend of mine.”

His throat tightened as he realized it’s time for him to leave and he doesn’t want to. He’s caught in a whirlwind of emotions and finds himself torn between hope and fear. Or maybe he fears what it means to be hopeful because for once in his life, he wants something.

He wants you. His mate.

But as he thanked you for your kind gesture, he realized that the bond must have not snapped for you as it had for him. So he reluctantly went on with his day and when the sky darkened and stars awakened, he took a sip from the small vial. He had the best sleep of his life that night and dreamt about you.

The next morning he asked Rhysand and Feyre about what he had experienced because he couldn’t believe it himself. They confirmed his suspicions and they were both delighted. Feyre even more so as you were her dear friend.

She had taken it upon herself to bring you two together. Her first attempt was a family dinner. It was going well until Elain had spotted a spider and upon the small scream she let out, Nesta had rushed to kill it for her. Your distress was impossible to turn a blind eye to and Feyre quietly asked if you were alright.

“It didn’t need to die,” is all you quietly said, your eyes lined with silver.

Witches were one with nature and given your niche with herbs and creation, Azriel realized the depth of your admiration for all life that night. Then, another harrowing one. You were so innocent, so pure. He was guilty, hands tainted and stained red. He didn’t deserve you.

The Cauldron must’ve made a mistake.

Feyre was undeterred so she gave it another attempt, despite Azriel’s protest. She arranged a night out at Rita’s for the Inner Circle and invited you. Azriel didn’t plan on going but Rhysand had made sure his schedule was clear and when Feyre had sent him an image of you in a skin tight dress, he came as quickly as he could.

But it was too late.

He arrived to find a high fae leaning toward you in interest and you were smiling at him. A smile Azriel wanted reserved just for him. The male had placed a hand at your waist and Azriel felt his stomach churn when you laughed at something he had said. A sound he wished to be the cause of. You seemed happy and who was he to stand in your way?

The male was everything Azriel was not. Blond, blue eyed and perfectly smooth hands–hands that were all over you and welcomed by you. He unconsciously hid his scarred hands behind his back and when your gaze met his across the room, he looked away.

Azriel was not worthy of you. He didn’t deserve to have you as his mate. So he reminded himself that romance was not part of his duties and convinced himself that the Cauldron, had indeed, made a mistake.

He couldn’t bear the thought of being just a friend to you. The mere idea pained him so much that he pushed you away. He didn’t return to your apothecary when he finished the vial you’d given him–not even when his nights became restless again and dark circles appeared beneath his eyes. When he’d see you walking along the streets of Velaris, he’d turn the other away and when you would visit Feyre and he was there, he’d find an excuse to leave.

But there was one thing he couldn’t shake off–the primal instinct to protect you. It was the least he could do for you as he felt indebted to you for the Cauldron’s mistake.

So when he heard you needed an escort to the border between the Spring and Autumn courts, he was the first to volunteer, despite Mor and Cassian also offering.

It’s as if the ground beneath you comes to life in your presence. Birds fly over you, chirping and singing a beautiful melody. As you pass, buds blossom into beautiful flowers as if enchanted by you. Even the animals emerge from their hidden abodes. The squirrels playfully dart between branches while a family of deer gracefully emerges from the trees.

It becomes evident that nature itself is captivated by your presence. and it extends beyond nature, weaving its magic onto Azriel as well. It reaches into the very heart of the Shadowsinger, casting an enchanting spell that even he cannot escape.

A blue butterfly dances playfully around Azriel. It startles him, pulling him out of his trance and you can’t help the small laugh that escapes from you. You raise a finger and the butterfly lands on it softly.

“Hello, little one,” you coo softly. You turn to Azriel, holding out your finger to him. “Would you like to hold it?”

“No.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Are you scared of a butterfly?”

Azriel does not answer your question. Instead, his eyes dart around the forest that still stirs with liveliness around you. “What happened to keeping a low profile?”

“Sorry,” you apologize, even though it��s not your fault. The butterfly grants you one last flutter of its wings before flying away. “I can’t help but be admired by many.”

Azriel lets out a hum. You’re too distracted to pick up on the subtle resonance of agreement, your eyes widening as the meadow finally comes into view in the distance.

You inhale deeply, flooding your senses with the sweet and delicate fragrance surrounding you. Time seems to slow and your worries dissipate away as you kneel down, gently touching the soft sea of green, white and yellow. The gentle sway of the dandelions is mesmerizing almost, their feathery plumes catching the morning breeze like wishes aching to be set free.

Azriel watches you and his eyes are a reflection of an adoration deeper than any meadow bloom. There’s a bittersweet ache in his chest. You close your eyes, a serene expression on your face. Strands of sunlight weave through your hair, creating a halo of warmth and Azriel finds it hard to breathe when your lips bloom into a tender smile.

Your eyes open and meet his hazel eyes and suddenly, he’s looking away. He clears his throat, eyes looking around the field. “What’s so special about this place?” He asks, a desperate attempt to reclaim the distance between desire and reality.

“All life is a delicate balance of give and take. Spring brings forth new life and beauty, new beginnings. Autumn leaves showers of gold, recognizing the temporary nature of all things. “ You answer as if it's common knowledge and upon the bewildered expression on Azriel’s face, you offer the simpler explanation: “The soil between Spring and Autumn is very potent.”

“These are weeds. They’ll grow anywhere.” Azriel deadpans. He regrets it immediately at the slight frown that forms at his casual dismissal.

“You may see a weed,” you begin, plucking a single dandelion from the ground as you rise to your feet. You approach the Shadowsinger. “But I see wishes.”

You extend the dandelion to him with a softness in your eyes that he’s never been on the receiving end of. “They say a single dandelion possesses the power to grant one-hundred wishes. But their beauty lies in their resilience because when they fall apart, they simply start again. A reminder to us all of boundless hope.”

Azriel hesitates, his gaze fixed on the dandelion. His gloved fingers brush against yours and for a fleeting moment, he wonders what your skin would feel like against his. The mere thought dares to send a shiver through him but he swiftly pushes the thought away.

You smile at him as he carefully accepts the stem from you. His shadows remain dispersed around the field but from where he stands, he can feel them vibrating joyfully. Your smile is so bright, so dazzling and for the first time since he met you, it’s all for him.

A sudden warmth floods through him, a sensation he never anticipated, and he finds himself utterly captivated.

“Make a wish,” you whisper to him, your voice a gentle prompt that lingers in the air like a spell waiting to be cast.

Azriel is not one to believe in things like this but he finds himself surrendering to the magic of the moment. For you.

Under the tender gaze of a field of dandelions, he closes his eyes. He lets out a silent breath, and makes a wish. A breeze courses through you both in that moment. The dandelion’s wispy seeds take flight, unraveling into a fine constellation of possibilities.

The soft bristles of hope travel through the air and find their way to you and a laugh escapes from you in response to the tickling sensation as they caress your face.

Azriel’s heart feels strangely gentle–as if the weight that often accompanies his existence has momentarily dissipated. His entire body seems to soften in the glow of your laughter and a rare smile forms on his face.

He’s stuck in a trance, mesmerized by you, failing to catch the sounds of the creatures approaching.

Before he knows it, there are arrows whistling around you both. He barely has enough time to respond as one hisses by his ear and darts to you. He immediately raises his hand up, his shadows rushing to the rescue and forming a protective shield around you both.

Your eyes are wide as you stare at the tip of an arrow that is a couple of inches away from you. It’s coated with blood. Azriel’s blood.

Your breath hitches at the sight. There's an arrow embedded into his gloved hand and if it weren’t for Azriel’s other hand at the small of your back, you would’ve fallen backwards.

“Are you alright?” His gaze is examining you carefully, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

You blink at his words. “Are you alright?”

“Well, well, well.” A voice drawls followed by deep, rumbling growls from the hounds that surround you. They’re kept at bay by Azriel’s shadows. “What do we have here?”

Azriel turns around, ready to face the threat head on. His shadows remain at your side protectively. Some slither up and down your arms, their touch aimed at offering comfort and reassurance.

“Eris.”

The red head smirks and his teeth flash when he catches the sight of the Shadowsinger’s injured and bleeding hand. “My apologies,” Eris sneers. “If I had known it was you, I would’ve aimed for the heart.”

A sound escapes from you–one you didn’t know you were capable of making and you step out from the shadows. It draws Eris’s attention to you. His amber eyes drink you in and you feel Azriel stiffen beside you. The Autumn’s male’s eyes land on the obsidian necklace around your neck and they narrow.

“What is a witch doing in my lands?” His hounds that are still surrounding let out another growl, prompted by their master’s tone of voice. They snap their teeth menacingly.

But you’re unfazed.

Perhaps, it’s Azriel’s protective shadows or the overwhelming anger set alight by Eris’s words that grant you the confidence and push you forward. Your eyes fill with darkness, resembling a night sky without any stars and Azriel can feel the energy coursing through your veins as you call upon your magic.

“Keep wasting the air with that breath of yours and I might just cur–”

A hand comes over your mouth, stopping you from saying anything else and you’re being pulled flush into Azriel’s chest. You grimace at the taste of leather and squirm only for Azriel’s arms to tighten around you.

“Cute,” Eris remarks with a hint of amusement but there’s an unmistakable fear that flashes in his eyes for a short lived moment.

“We’re just passing through,” Azriel states, his voice void of emotion.

Eris observes you both in contemplative silence. He must discern something in Azriel that prompts him to stand down. With a thoughtful hum, he gracefully turns away. His hounds follow suit and as he walks away, he calls over his shoulders: “Make it quick.”

You watch as Eris disappears into the forest, still wrapped tightly in Azriel’s arms. It isn’t until Eris is completely out of view that you squirm again and without thinking, you bite on his gloved hand. Hard. Azriel flinches and finally releases his grip on you.

You turn to him with a glare that he returns.

“Threatening to curse the heir to Autumn? Are you out of your mind?”

“I should curse you for stopping me!” You exclaim, crossing your arms with a scowl. Your gaze then softens as you quietly add: “He hurt you.”

“Gods,” Azriel breathes, stepping away from you and tilting his head backwards. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

“You mean besides piss you off by merely existing?” You huff as you snatch your bag away from him to get the jars you brought. “Can’t imagine it gets any worse than that.”

The walk to your apartment is silent and you begin to wonder if you should apologize for your outburst earlier. It was not within your nature to raise your voice at anyone…or harbor anger toward someone. But Eris had tried to hurt you, hurt Azriel and then shamelessly sneered about it.

Azriel follows you into your home, watching as you set the ingredients you collected down. He expects you to bid him farewell and kick him out but as you turn to him and your gaze falls to his injured hand, you sigh.

“Come on,” you offer, reaching out for his hand and he recoils. You frown. “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

You know he’s lying by the way his jaw clenches and you can’t help but notice that he appears to be repelled by your touch. You almost laugh. “I promise I won’t curse you. I actually never cursed anyone before.”

Azriel’s expression remains unreadable.

“Just let me see. I can help you.”

“I’m fine.” He says through gritted teeth.

“You’re bleeding all over my floor.” You say in hopes to get him to accept your help and when it doesn’t, you cross your arms against your chest. “Do you really hate me that much? To be repulsed by my touch?”

“I don’t hate you.” Azriel confesses and his voice is much quieter, much softer when he speaks again. “I could never.”

Azriel holds your gaze in contemplation for a long moment. Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see his shadows pushing him toward you so you try again. This time, when you step forward, your hand reaching for him, he doesn’t pull away.

“Sit,” you tell him, nodding your head at one of the chairs in your kitchen.

With a hard swallow, he does. He is entirely still as you hold his gloved hand in yours. Even his shadows are eerily still as if holding their breath. His eyes are boring into you with an intensity that heats your skin. You bring your other hand up, a soft green glow emitting from your fingertips. With the help of your magic, you carefully take the arrow out, drawing a sharp gasp from him.

“Sorry,” you say, turning your attention to his glove next. You use your magic to remove it as well, not wanting to cause him any more pain or discomfort.

As the green mist of your magic dissipates, revealing the scarred skin beneath, your eyes widen. The scars are extensive, streaking around his fingers and the palm of his hand and the bleeding gash in the middle is nothing compared to them. You lift your gaze to meet his only to find his eyes are dead of emotion.

“Azriel.” You breathe and it’s the first time you’ve ever addressed him by his name and it sounds so pretty, so beautiful but the way you’re looking at him…

“Don’t.” His throat feels tight and he starts to withdraw his hand from yours but you stop him. You want to know who hurt him this deeply. Today was a day of firsts for you–first smile from Azriel, first time you ever felt so angry, first time you growled at someone and you were more than willing to add another first to that list. Cursing someone.

But Azriel looks like he’s about to break so you push your rage aside. Realization dawns on you as you now understand why he’s always wearing gloves around you, why he avoided you at all costs before. Your heart aches.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” you say softly as you begin to heal his hand. “Your scars may forever carry their stories with them but they do not define you. Your heart does and I can see it now. It’s bright and beautiful. You’re beautiful and–”

“y/n,” he almost begs. “Please don’t talk to me like that.”

The gash on his palm is now completely healed and you tighten your hold on it. “Why?”

“It’s cruel and heartless and you don’t even realize.” His voice drops to a pained whisper and his eyes are fluttering shut, body trembling. Shadows cling on to him, embracing him in an attempt to comfort their master. You’ve never beheld anything more heartbreaking.

“Do you think that lowly of me?” You begin, your voice quiet. “That I would be put off by your scars?”

When he doesn’t answer, your free hand reaches for his face, lifting his chin up. But his eyes are still closed and deep lines form on his forehead because your skin is so soft, so warm and he’s not worthy.

“Azriel,” you steady your breath. “You’re my mate.”

His eyes shoot open, hazel orbs glistening with tears as he looks up at you. “You know?”

“I’ve known since the moment I met you.” You confess with a pained smile. “I wanted to tell you right away but I didn’t want to scare you and when I was ready to tell you, you were avoiding me. I thought you hated me because, well, I’m a witch and not everyone is fond of them.”

“But that night at Rita’s–”

“My stupid attempt at making you jealous,” you explain to him sheepishly. “I thought it would prompt you to talk to me but it backfired immensely.”

Silence falls over you two.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “For what?”

“For being your mate.” Azriel responds. “I don’t deserve you. My hands are not only scarred but stained red. I’ve tortured many. I’ve killed many. You value life but I take it.”

“I value innocent life. It’s my duty to protect nature–to protect those that cannot speak for themselves.” You clarify. “I understand that it’s your duty to protect this court. I don’t see you any different for it.”

The hand at his face drops and you use it to remove the glove from his other hand. Your hands grasp onto his larger ones and you lace your fingers with his, embracing the thickened and roughened skin. Azriel’s breath hitches.

“This can’t be real,” he murmurs to himself, dropping his gaze. “In that field of dandelions, I wished upon every one of them. For you.”

“Magic doesn’t work that way,” you tell him with a smile as an overwhelming rush of tenderness comes over you. “It cannot create or destroy love. It can only heighten what is already there.”

Azriel’s expression softens and he looks back up at you. Half terrified. Half hopeful. “So this is real?”

You decide to show him instead by leaning down and kissing him.

Azriel’s body relaxes and then he’s using his hands to tug you forward and onto his lap. He kisses you back. Deeply and desperately. He places his hands on your face, your neck and then they’re at your waist, slipping under your shirt. He wants to feel your skin, all of you and you welcome it, arching into him because his touch feels so good.

It stirs a light of desire in you–a desire so bright that it rivals the sun and blossoms flowers of its own. A desire to love and be loved.

“What else did you wish for?” You gasp out when you both pull away for air. His hands are right under the curve of your chest and he leans his forehead against yours.

His breath is heavy but he smiles at you and you engrave the image into your mind because you’ve never seen anything so beautiful. You’re inclined to ask Feyre to paint it for you later.

“My only wish was for you to be mine.” He confesses, pressing a kiss to your nose.

“Done.”

And then he’s kissing you again.

Azriel has heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime–he’s seen it come to his brothers. He never thought it would come to him but he’s pretty sure that you are that love of his and he was a fool to push it away. He knows this now because when he gazes into your eyes, he can see forever in them.

here's an alternate scene, where y/n is the one who says "please don't talk to me like that" instead of az: read here

here's a scene if you're curious about feyre's reaction: read here

if you're interested in reading more about this au you can find the masterlist for this series here

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel fluff #azriel angst #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #azriel x y/n #acotar x you #az!dandelions

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sirenpearldust · 5 months ago

Text

Found you

Baby Daddy Azriel!

Series masterlist ⋆ Part one ⋆ Part two

Pair: Azriel x Spring Court! Reader

Word count: 1.993

Warning: none

Azriel was perched high in the branches of a sturdy oak, the warm spring air brushing against his wings. He was ordered by Rhysand to observe Tamlin’s movements, the task proving far less engaging than he had hoped.

The silver ring in his hand spun idly between his fingers, glinting in the sunlight as he surveyed the lands below. Distant rustle of leaves and the water splashing from a waterfall nearby were his only companions until a sound broke through the monotony.

A laugh, light and sweet, unmistakably a childs floated up to him. Tilting his head, he scanned the bloomy landscape for its source, curiosity piqued. A rare smile ghosted across his lips as he thought about Nyx.

Azriel shifted silently on the branch he sat on, his gaze fixed on the scene before him.

The child, a boy, chased a small cat through the tall, swaying grass. But it wasn’t the laughter or even the playful scene that rooted him in place.

It was the wings. The boy had wings. Illyrian wings.

Azriel’s breath caught as he studied the child more closely. The size, the structure they were unmistakable, a testament.

But how? How could an Illyrian child end up here, deep in Spring Court territory, so far from their mountain homes?

He leaned forward slightly, his shadows curling around him protectively, as his mind raced. Was this an accident? A trick? Did he get lost or was it something far more troubling? Whatever the answer, he couldn’t walk away now.

Azriel watched as the boy’s shadow stretched across the grass, curling and mingling with his own shadows. The sight tugged at something deep within him, a faint, unshakable unease. Shadowsingers were rare.

Slowly, he stepped forward, his movements careful, deliberate. The boy turned at the sound of his approach, his laughter vanishing in an instant. Wide, startled eyes met Azriel’s and the boy’s small wings twitching as if preparing to flee.

His gaze on Azriel.

Azriel stopped in his tracks, his heart tightening in his chest. Those eyes, he had seen them before. Years ago. In this very court.

The boy’s shadows rippled as if echoing his unease, ready to attack Azriel if he made a wrong move. He simply stood there, his fists clenched, his wings half-flared. And those familiar eyes, bright and piercing, stared at Azriel with something that felt like both a question and Curiosity.

“Where are your parents?” Azriel asked, his voice soft, not to scare the child.

The boy tilted his head. “Mommy’s busy,” he replied simply, relaxing a little, kicking at a tuft of grass with his bare foot.

Azriel’s shadows stirred restlessly, their unease mirroring his own. “And your father?” he pressed.

The boy shrugged, petting the white cat that had positioned itself between them.

“Mommy said he’s gone.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched tightly, his teeth grinding together, unease blooming in him. He didn’t want to finish the thought forming in his mind, didn’t want to follow the thread of suspicion unraveling before him.

Gone. That single word hung in the air, heavy with too many meanings. And Azriel just hoped, prayed, it wasn’t what he feared.

Azriel’s jaw tightened as memories he had long buried resurfaced.

Four years ago, in the Spring Court, he had been tangled in a fleeting, passionate affair with a noblewoman. It hadn’t meant much, not to him, at least. Their connection had ended in bitterness and harsh words. He hadn’t thought of her since.

But now, as he looked at the boy with Illyrian wings and familiar eyes, he did not want it to be true. His shadows pressed closer.

It can’t be, Azriel thought, though the pit in his stomach kept tightening with doubt. There was another explanation for this child’s existence. He hoped the boy wasn’t his son. Because if he was…

He needed answers, and he needed them now.

The boy tilted his head, watching Azriel with wide, curious eyes. There was no fear in his gaze anymore, only fascination, innocence.

Azriel’s stomach twisted as he took in the details he couldn’t ignore. The boy’s dimples, so faint yet unmistakable, mirrored his own. His skin was the same deep shade of brown and then there were the shadows swirling faintly around the boy, just as protective of him as his own.

The boy smiled tentatively. It was like staring into a reflection of himself, a reflection smaller and unshaped by the cruelty of this world yet. It was starting to freak him out.

“Amias!”

The voice cut through the stillness, edged with worry. Azriel turned sharply toward the sound, his heart stuttering in his chest as you came running into view.

The boy lit up, squealing with happiness.

“Mommy!”

You swept the boy into your arms clutching him tightly against your chest as though you’d feared he’d vanish. Azriel stood frozen, watching as you smoothed a hand over the boy’s hair, voice scolding, soft but firm.

“Did I not tell you to stay inside?” you said, tone a mixture of relief and frustration.

“What were you thinking, wandering out here alone?”

Amias squirmed a little in your grasp, clearly unfazed by the reprimand. Adjusting your hold on him, shifting him onto your hip you turned and began walking back toward the house.

Azriel blinked, completely thrown off. You hadn’t even looked at him. Not a single glance, not a flicker of acknowledgment. As though he weren’t standing there at all.

“Y/n”

You kept walking, your steps steady, your soft blue dress swaying in the wind. But Azriel didn’t miss the way your body tensed, the slight shudder that rippled through your frame. You’d heard him.

“Wait,” he called, his voice firm. When you didn’t stop, he winnowed directly in front of you.

You didn’t falter, stepped around him as though he were a ghost, attention fixed solely on the boy in you arms, your son. His son, Azriel realized with a jarring certainty.

His jaw clenched as he watched you, ignoring him, the way you pretended he wasn’t standing right there. As if he was invisible.

But he wasn’t about to let you slip away. He reached out, his fingers wrapping gently around your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

Your steps faltered, and Amias looked up at him. The happiness that had lit his young face moments before drained away, replaced by wide-eyed fear. He clung tighter to his mother, his tiny wings twitching nervously. His shadows curling around the both of you.

Azriel’s focus shifted to the sound of movement nearby. A servant stood at a distance, observing the scene with a wary eye. His sharp gaze caught the subtle shift of their hands, reaching for the hilt of a blade.

Azriel released your arm, his fingers lingering for a moment. He stepped back, his eyes finally met your angry, guarded eyes, filled with a familiar coldness he’d seen once before. The same expression you’d worn the last day he left, the day everything had ended between you.

He had never expected to see you again, at least not like this.

Without a word, you gently placed Amias on the ground, your hand lingering on his small shoulder before you spoke.

“Lex, take Amias and tell Nara to get him ready for bed.” Your voice was firm, smooth, like he had remembered. The servant from before stepped forward and ushered Amias away with a soft murmur.

Azriel watched them go, his heart sinking as the boy kept glancing back to them, eyes full of confusion and fear. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the way the child reacted to him.

He watched them disappear into the house.

He turned back to you, you were already facing him, your eyes cold and unreadable.

“So, you’re not going to say anything?” His voice was quiet, the words sharp, but you detected hurt.

Your expression remained impassive

“Are you done trespassing into my court?”

“Is he my son?” His voice was low, strained, as he finally asked the question that had haunted him since he first saw the boy’s face.

Your gaze didn’t waver, eyes locking onto his with an icy clarity.

“Our laws state any Spring Court citizen is allowed to kill any trespassers” you said flatly.

“Are you here to die?”

You were daring him to make a move, daring him to test your resolve. It wasn’t just a threat, it was a challenge, one he wasn’t sure he was prepared to meet.

”I am here to know if he is my son!”

You didn’t answer right away, but the smirk that crept onto your lips made Azriel’s gut twist. It was a look he knew too well, too familiar. One that reminded him too much of Eris.

You shrugged, clearly unbothered by his insistence.

“Let me rephrase,” he said. “Did you fuck another Illyrian after me?”

The laugh that followed was like a slap. It took everything in Azriel not to let his anger flare, but he couldn’t help the tightening in his jaw, out of frustration. You really had a way to make him angry.

He had hoped for answers, serious answers and instead he was met with mockery.

He had to bite back the words he wanted to say. He didn’t expect what you said next.

“He’s yours.”

He and his shadows froze, momentarily stunned, as if they, too, were caught off guard by the blunt honesty in your voice. Azriel couldn’t move for a moment.

Now that the truth was out there, raw and plain, one question still lingered on his tongue.

“Why did you hide him from me?”

“He’s safe. Do not bother caring or playing house now.”

Azriel’s heart twisted at your words.

“He’s my son. I have a right-“

“You don’t have any rights,” you snapped, your anger flaring like a sudden storm. Eyes blazing, full of fury “He’s my son, my heir, and a citizen of this court.”

The finality in your tone struck him like a blow. Azriel recoiled slightly, his breath catching in his throat. The woman he remembered was not there, in her place stood someone entirely different.

You turned away from him, back rigid with anger. The woman he had known had been soft, kind. This woman? She was a warrior, someone shaped by cruelty and far, far more dangerous then he remembered.

You had shut him out, made it clear that any claim he thought he might have on his son was nonexistent. He had no rights here, not in your eyes, not in this court.

“He’s still Illyrian,” he continued. You kept walking, ignoring him again.

“He needs to learn how to fight, fly and control his shadows.”

Azriel’s fists clenched at his sides, but before he could say anything, you waved your hand dismissively.

“Do not worry about his education,” you said, voice sharper now.

“He’s fine and he will not be sent to the camps you were raised in.”

Azriel’s feet moved before his mind could catch up, his long strides closing the distance between you in seconds. He grabbed your arm, halting you.

“Stop this nonsense,” he said, his voice low but forceful. Your skin soft under his rough, scarred hands.

You turned to face him, expression as cold as ever.

“What do you exactly want?” Your words were clipped, as though you had already decided this conversation was over.

He wanted to know his son.

You could read his mind. Your lips curled into a cruel smile.

“Fine, but you will get to know him on my terms. No discussion.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed as he followed your steps, the frustration building in his chest.

“What conditions? He is my son I should see him whenever I can!”

But you didn’t answer him. Just kept walking, pace never slowing.

Your silence gnawed at him, driving him insane with every unanswered question. You wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t speak beyond the bare minimum.

Main Taglist: @bubybubsters @lilah-asteria

#azriel fic #azriel fanfiction #azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #azriel shadowsinger #spring court #azriel acotar #azriel angst #azriel x reader #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar angst

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pellucid-constellations · 4 months ago

Note

hi kathie! any cassian fics coming? :( cassian girls survive off crumbs in the fanfic community 😭

I know I said I was going to study and not post anything buuut I have to give a little something to the Cassian girls ;) (I'm also avoiding studying)

Cassian x reader drabble (w/ a quiet mate <3)

Masterlist

"What about this one?" Cassian posed, holding the wrinkled paper up to meet your gaze. You narrowed your eyes and scanned the document, pursing your lips before shaking your head with a small smile.

Cassian nodded. "You're right, too small."

Feyre watched the interaction from the other side of the small library in the river house. The fire was roaring in the hearth beside her mate and Nyx was babbling in her lap.

"Do you think this makes sense?" Cassian spoke up again, tightening his hold on your waist to bring you that half-a-centimeter closer. You knocked your head back to rest it on the flat plane of his shoulder, humming and giving a soft maybe not.

Cassian grunted. "But that was what you said last week."

Feyre leaned in closer to her mate, voice low by his ear. "She's not actually saying anything."

Feyre had considered—a few times now that there was peacetime and calm in her life—that you and Cassian might share the same Daemati abilities that she and Rhys did. When Cassian spoke, you often did not. And still, Cassian responded as if you did.

Rhys softly pinched his son's cheek as the one-sided conversation continued across the room. "She's quiet. Always has been."

Cassian let out a chuckle. Feyre watched you shake as his chest moved, your face a shade darker as your mate craned his neck to gaze down at you. "Always so shy," he hummed, adoration making his voice impossibly thick.

"But he knows exactly what she's thinking. She just looks at him and he has a response for her," Feyre mused.

Rhys tugged his own mate closer as warmth lulled the room into tranquility. "They've been together for a long time."

"And she's still shy?"

"No," Rhysand laughed. "She's quiet. Cassian's... not quiet. His teases are just more vocal."

"I'm hungry," you sighed, eyes drooping.

Cassian pressed a kiss to the side of your head and abandoned his handful of papers on the center table. "I know. You told me earlier. Let's take a break."

As the couple bid their goodbyes and shuffled out of the library, Feyre mulled over the possibility that you hadn't really told Cassian you were hungry. He probably just knew.

#cassian x reader #cassian x fem!reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cassian acotar #cassian #acotar #acotar fanfiction #cassian fluff

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qwimblenorrisstan · 11 months ago

Text

Kindred Spirits | Azriel x Rhys’daughter!Reader

Summary: Amidst Starfall, Azriel discovers that he has a mating bond with you, Rhysand’s daughter, and after pleading his case, he gets to spend some quality time with you at the cabin.

Word Count: ~ 4.2k

Warnings: Age gap, smut, p in v penetration, fingering, wing play, shadow play, you get the dea

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: Couldn’t get the idea of Rhys’ daughter with Az out of my head so I decided to write it down, hope you enjoy<3

Masterlist | Next

Requests are open!

From the moment he’d laid eyes on you, a newborn still covered in the blood and fluids of Feyre, cradled gently in her arms, he’d known you would be special.

Not just special to him as a family member, in the same way your older brother, Nyx, was, but something deep in him, more ancient and wise, had known.

He’d watched you grow up, always watching quietly along with everyone else as you slowly grew.

When you’d started crawling, large blue eyes peering up at Rhys as you had giggled and cooed, legs and arms moving clumsily in tandem to your father, who was kneeling, arms open and beckoning you to come closer. Feyre had been sat down on the edge of the couch, Nyx, only four years old, sitting on her lap as she’d raked fingers through his dark curls.

“There’s my pretty girl,”

Rhys had murmured to you in a soft tone as you’d finally made your way into his arms, he’d picked you up and began gently giving you little kisses as your pudgy little hands grabbed at him, hooking onto his bottom lip and tugging.

Cassian’s hearty laughter could be heard from across the room as he walked in to find you pulling on every part of your father you could get your hands on. He had plopped down on the couch next to Feyre, leaning back slightly and settling as Nyx crawled into his lap.

Azriel had been there when you’d taken your first steps. When your tiny little legs had slowly, unsteadily begun moving, arms thrown out to balance as your fuzzy little wings had been stretched to the side to hopefully keep you from falling.

What had been the thing that had made you finally walk after all of your parents failed attempts to entice you into it?

A beetle.

It sounded ridiculous, and looking back on it, it was.

Nyx had originally brought it in, hoping to scare you and make you run away from it, with Feyre hot on his heels trying to make him put it back down.

Whether it had been the way its wings had flapped so quickly, or the shiny, rainbow iridescence of its shell that reminded you of the rainbows that formed over the Sidra after light rain, you’d been fascinated. Feyre had let out an ear-piercing squeak as soon as she’d seen you start walking, and towards a live bug no less.

Rhys was there in an instant, clearly wondering what had caused his mate such distress when he caught the sight of it and grinned larger than ever before, maybe. Nyx got closer to you, the bug still squirming in his hands, but before he could get it to the babbling baby, Azriel calmly stepped in and gently grabbed the shiny insect, releasing it out of an open window.

He remembered your first word, which, unsurprisingly, had been “mama”. He remembered your first day of school, where you had been shy and almost shed a few tears when separating from your parents.

And gods, he definitely remembered your first day of middle school, when you’d come home sniffling and his first instinct had been to murder whoever had made you feel such a way.

It had been happy tears, apparently, when a friend you’d lost contact with long ago after leaving your elementary school early had met back up with you, in the same grade and class.

High school had also been a nightmare, for the entire family because of your frequent mood swings, not to mention the never-ending drama and gossip surrounding the High Lord and Lady’s daughter and son. Nyx had been a Senior when you’d first gone in as a Freshmen.

Due to your generally quiet and reserved temperament, there was little dating from you to deal with, luckily, but Nyx had been a nightmare. The boy was a player, to say the least, not to mention how he made it his personal mission to annoy you to death anytime you were having sleepovers or hangouts with your closest friends.

“Get out…!”

You had half-yelled, half-whispered from inside your pillow fort, your friend quietly giggling beside you. It was midnight and Nyx still wouldn’t leave you alone. One hand swatted the blanket entrance to the side, and Nyx’s smirking face met yours as he then lay on the floor, chest down, legs playfully swinging.

“Don’t be shy, spill all the drama.”

He drawled, eyes dancing with amusement. Your friend giggled, hiding behind you, apparently finding your brother incredibly funny. Annoyingly funny.

“I’ll call Cassian.”

You threatened, giving Nyx a look. He simply raised a brow, smirk widening.

“You wouldn’t dare interrupt his beauty sleep, would you?”

You huffed, the knowledge that Cassian was asleep this early making you not want to wake him. You were always like that, worrying about others, and caring for them. Suddenly, an idea hit you, and a small smile curled on your lips, one that seemed to make Nyx nervous as his eyes widened.

“Don’t even-“

He got that far before you called out for Azriel, his shadows most likely carrying the yelled whispers out to him, and in a moment he was there, oddly quick for your call. He took one look at the pillow fort, the scent of you and your friend inside, and Nyx’s intrusion, and grabbed him, carrying him easily out of the room and nodding at your giggled thanks.

From then on, something seemed to shift between you and your shadowsinger.

The way he looked at you had changed, but it wasn’t overly obvious. Nothing had been added, it was still respectful as ever, even when he’d spied your prom dress, or your graduation dress, a beautiful mixture of light and airy but still tight in the right places, fabric cascading down your body in shades of rich purples, highlights of a gentle yellow reflecting the glow of the stars amidst a dark skylight.

That dress had nearly brought him to his knees. It had been one of the many that Rhysand’s mother had made before her death.

Still, he’d never let his gaze linger, never had a hint of anything darker or longing in his hazel eyes, but something had changed. The familial connection you had with him seemed to have fallen more into that of a friend, or almost an authority figure, but not quite. What it was, you couldn’t ever figure out.

However, the Cauldron had its own plans, ones that nobody in the family could’ve expected.

*********************************************************

It had been the night of Starfall, coincidentally only a few days after your eighteenth birthday. Rhys always liked to tease you, saying if you’d only waited a few more days then you could’ve shared your special day with one of the most special days of the year in Night Court.

Azriel had taken extra time to get ready for tonight, dressing himself comfortably, but also regally. It wasn’t too much, and it wasn’t too little. He liked teetering on the balance between the two, it often let him blend into the background while his brothers enjoyed their mates.

When he arrived, he’d first seen Nyx slip off into a dance with another woman of Night Court, not too uncommon for the male at these parties.

Nesta danced with Cassian, playfully teasing him about something as he laughed and retorted, all the while Feyre and Rhys slowly danced between sipping on glasses of wine, content to bask in this moment together.

Family dances weren’t uncommon, which was why you didn’t think much of it when Azriel offered you his hand for a dance. It was almost a habit at this point, as you two ended up lumped together now since everyone else seemed to have found their happy ending.

“If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but leave her alone.”

Rhysand had told him. And he had left Elain alone.

Now, weeks, months, and years later, Elain was happy with Lucien, basking in his warmth and domesticity as they both shared a home in Day Court, Lucien now the proclaimed heir of Helion after his heritage was discovered and revealed.

Mor was still “single”, but Azriel knew better, with the way she still gave eyes to that one waitress at Rita’s who always touched and looked at her longer than necessary. That was Mor’s decision on whether to reveal it to the family or not, and he understood it.

Nyx was still…hopping from female to female, happy with the cheap thrills the Night Court ladies could give him. According to his shadows, the boy had recently caught the eyes of a specific girl, his usual pattern of getting bored and moving on crumbling in the face of her.

However, it was just you and Azriel, surrounded by mated couples and lovers as he gently pulled you closer to him, hands intertwining with his with a practiced ease, while you both began a slow, gentle dance to the rhythm of the music. Your eyes were on the stars, the ones which your father had always told you were spirits migrating, or traveling on this day in particular, for whatever reason.

His eyes were on you, watching as your deep blue eyes, freckled with what looked like stars amidst an aurora haze observed the night sky. No matter how many times you saw it, it always seemed to amaze you. Something he was a bit jealous of.

Your black hair, midnight as your father’s, fell in waves against your tanned skin, a fair mixture between your mother and father. The dark wings, courtesy of your father, were tucked neatly in on your back, as they usually were during events like these, though they slowly relaxed as you got lost in the music and cool atmosphere of this night.

It was then that it had happened.

You had turned to look at him, blue eyes full of the quiet appreciation and confidence that mirrored his own in some ways, meeting his dark hazel ones, that sparks seemed to fly in both of your veins.

His eyes widened, something you had seldom seen before. The shadows around him tightened, agitated, before going to your side and some wrapping around you, their whispered touches cold against your warm skin.

Both of your feet faltered, hands that were intertwined loosening, but staying together. It was only the two of you in that moment, everything else seemed to be drowned out by the roaring in your ears.

That was what he had been to you, never an uncle like Cassian, never a full authority figure, not a friend, but your mate.

The realization of what had just happened hit like a brick. You and Azriel were mates. It had taken your father almost five centuries to find his mate, the same for Cassian, and you were lucky enough to find him this early in life. You mentally wrapped tender hands around the golden thread in your chest, tying you both together, and very hesitantly pulled on it.

Based on the way he jerked and twitched, before pulling on his end, making you do the same thing, colliding with his chest with a small ‘oomph’, confirmed everything for the both of you.

He hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, watching painfully close for any tiny sign of fear, pain, anger…, anything he didn’t want to cause. You could only wrap your arms around him in return, too enamored with the male in front of you to care about the two of you embracing like lovers at Starfall, for all to see.

They could see, you didn’t mind.

*********************************************************

From the moment the bond had snapped, and overwhelming heat and affection had flooded his being, Azriel knew he was fucked.

Wrapping his arms around you felt like the best thing he’d ever experienced, filling that empty, hollow space inside of him. It felt as if you were melting into him, slowly filling every hole, sealing every crack and crevice, except for the one thing left; accepting it.

He would die before putting pressure on you. You would accept it when you were ready. Even then, as much as he hated the thought of Rhys throwing around his status again, he knew he had to do this carefully or he could very well be banned from seeing you until you were deemed ‘ready’.

Even now Rhys was watching, eyes narrowing in what looked like curiosity as he watched the scene before him, his daughter and shadowsinger, both reserved, slightly shy people, openly embracing and seeming utterly lost in each other. If that hadn’t given it away, then the tears that seemed to well up in Azriel’s eyes, and the ones already running down your cheeks, did.

He murmured something quietly to Feyre, slipping off with an apologetic glance as he walked quickly over to you, trying to gently pull you into his arms. That always worked. To his surprise, you clung to Azriel like he was a lifeline, turning to him, crying silently as you sniffled.

His first urge was to slaughter Azriel for whatever he’d done to upset you, but he knew that wasn’t reasonable.

“What’s-?”

He began to ask, before meeting Azriel’s gaze. His eyes were welled with what looked like tears, pure desperation and pleading so strong in his eyes, something he hadn’t seen before from his Spymaster.

“We’re mates.”

The two words were almost a whisper, but as soon as he heard it, his heart nearly stopped. From the way you clung to Azriel, he could tell that you probably wouldn’t reject the bond whatsoever, and the way Azriel held you, his touch desperate but also so loving and gentle, he knew that it would be hopeless to try and separate you two.

His hand went to rub the bridge of his nose for a moment, before his eyes went to you again, then glancing up at Azriel, a silent question in his gaze.

‘Can you control yourself around her?’

Azriel seemed almost relieved at that, nodding almost imperceptibly. He had amazing control over himself, Rhys knew that about him, but with a mate, and his daughter at that? He was anxious, which wasn’t common for the High Lord. With a sigh, he spoke again.

“Have fun, but don’t rush anything. We can talk through this in the morning.”

Your father said, another sharp glance at Azriel, before he returned to Feyre’s side, no doubt informing her on what had happened. His violet eyes burned into the two of you all night as you danced and laughed and Azriel even managed to get you to take a little sip of wine, at which you deemed it “gross” and poured it out.

The night didn’t last nearly long enough, as Azriel finally escorted you back to your room, embracing you one last time in a way that made him feel complete, before leaning down and murmuring into your ear.

“Sleep well. We have plenty to do tomorrow.”

The tips of your ears turned pink at the implication, but he was gone before you could even get a word in. You reluctantly crawled into bed, trying to get at least a wink of sleep in, and barely succeeding.

*********************************************************

The next morning was a bit awkward, not to mention nerve-wracking.

Your parents looked worried, and your father seemed a bit stern, unusual for him this early in the morning. Azriel was already seated on the couch, scarred fingers twitching as they drummed against his thigh when you walked in, sitting right next to him.

His wing curled instinctively around you, with him not giving a damn about what Rhys or Feyre thought of it.

With a heavy sigh, Rhys turned to face you, meeting your gaze.

“Do you want to-”

“Yes.”

You replied, not an inch of hesitation or uncertainty in your usually quiet tone. Gods, you wanted to accept the bond, all you needed was for your parents to give their permission, and hopefully approve of it.

Rhys’ eyes narrowed, studying you and Azriel, before softening. His little girl was all grown up, and it was unfair to try and pull rank or any other bullshit to keep her from her mate, or to keep Azriel from his equal.

“You can use the cabin, I’ll…be checking on you.”

He said, voice rough with emotion. Azriel nodded, a silent thanks before his hands gently pulled you onto his lap. In a swirl of darkness and shadows, you were both sitting on the couch of the cabin in Illyria, your mother’s paintings still bright and fresh in the warm cabin.

“You know what to do, right?”

He asked, the words quiet but affectionate.

You gave a little nod. Offer him food. That was pretty much it.

“I’ll just go get an apple or something. Also, could you start the fire? It’s freezing.”

He chuckled quietly, the sound rich and deep, before pressing a kiss to your forehead and reluctantly getting up to go light the wood in the fireplace.

You walked over into the kitchen, pulling a fresh apple from what looked to be a fruit bowl, before eagerly chopping it up into pieces with a knife. You could hear the fire crackling before you saw it, walking back in to meet Azriel in the living room where he stood patiently.

You offered him a slice of the apple, already chewing your own, and he smiled softly, accepting it with a quiet,

“Thank you.”

Before popping it into his mouth, chewing slowly, and savoring it while maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. You felt the bond split open, all sorts of feelings and thoughts both coming from your mind and coming from his, flooding your brain.

You didn’t try to filter your thoughts, no matter how embarrassing they got. He got to have all of you. He seemed to feel the same way.

It was so quick that you barely even noticed him moving, but in a matter of moments and the swirling of shadows, you were both on the bed in a room, his lips moving eagerly against yours as his body slotted into place above you and between your legs. His tongue nudged at your lips, before slipping inside your mouth and dancing with yours, the lingering taste of the apple still there.

Your hips began slowly grinding against his clothes cock, already feeling it through his pants and how it throbbed. You could’ve sworn you even felt a pulse.

He let out a guttural groan at that, only pulling away from your mouth to breathe, taking in hot, heavy pants that had your pussy drooling. Whether he felt it through the bond or smelled your arousal, you could see his eyes widen and nostrils flare, before his lips quirked up at the corners.

“Az, please-“

You whined, already needing more of him. You needed more than friction, you needed touching and contact. He only nodded and began pulling your dress off, surprisingly carefully, his limbs trembling with restraint.

“I know, sweet girl.”

His shirt and pants were soon to go, and his boxers were then tossed to the floor. Your eyes widened as you saw his cock, long and thick as it was, the tip was an angry red and leaking, as soon as it was released it slapped against his stomach. He caught you staring, seeing the slight fear and hesitation in your gaze.

“Are you sure that’s going to..fit?”

You asked, voice more timid and meek than you wanted it to be. Your panties joined the pile of clothes on the floor while his hands began rubbing your tender breasts, kneading them and rubbing your pert nipples between his thumb and finger.

He chuckled lowly at your question.

“It will, I promise. I’m going to use my fingers first to stretch you a bit if that's alright?”

He asked, one finger brushing gently through your folds as he bit his tongue, trying to keep groaning at how wet you already were. Barely any stimulation and you were already writhing under him. So sensitive it was adorable. As much as he wanted to take his time and drag this out, to make you beg and plead until you were a mess, he didn’t have the patience, not now.

You nodded.

“Please.”

The word slipped from between your lips before you could even think, already whimpering as one finger gently began slipping into you. He marveled at how tight you were, thoughts already wandering as his fingers began curling, thumb massaging your clit. As you moaned and cried out, legs already trembling and trying to close, he held them open, settling between them as another finger was scissored into your cunt.

A white, hot heat had begun building in your body before you could begin to process what was happening, moans spilling from your lips like water flowing from a waterfall. More fingers slipped in, his thumb still running circles with just the right amount of pleasure on your clit.

It was too much.

“Az- Az, please, I’m gonna-“

And then it felt like everything exploded.

He watched you fall apart around his fingers, the three of them working in tandem, curling against that spongy spit in your walls as his thumb worked your clit sinfully good. His cock was aching as he tried rubbing it against your leg for at least some friction, which didn’t succeed.

“It’s okay, you’re alright, you’re doing perfect for me, okay?”

He murmured to you, slowly watching as you came down from your high, thighs trembling, tears already drying. Your body wanted more. The frenzy demanded more.

One of your hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, at which he curiously watched. You whined, glancing at his cock and gesturing to it.

“Words, honey. What do you want?”

He asked gently, looking down at you with enough affectionate lust to make you melt on sight as you opened your mouth to speak.

“Your cock. Want it inside.”

You mumbled, cheeks flushed red as you sniffled, giving him a pleading gaze he couldn’t do anything but give in to as he leaned forward, hovering just above your body, his arms braced on his elbows on either side of your head after he’d lined himself up with your entrance.

“Just take a deep breath for me and relax, sweet girl.”

He spoke softly to you, taking a deep breath of his own before nudging the tip in, slowly letting inch after inch go in, watching your expression for any hint of pain and slowing down at any sign of it.

Your face was contorted in a mixture of pain and pleasure, hips bucking up as you gasped at him being pushed deeper, his raw groaning an easy answer to it.

“Cauldron, you’re big.”

You whined against the skin of his chest, nose buried in the nook of his shoulder. He let out a strained laugh, not at you, but at your words.

“I take great pride in it.”

He teased back, before letting out a sigh of relief as he bottomed out.

“Need a minute, hold on-“

You said, breathless as you tried to adjust to the feeling of Azriel splitting you open. You’d never felt anything this big in you before, only having the liberty of your fingers or occasionally a toy doing the trick. He was nestled so deep that it felt like he could easily rearrange your organs if he wanted to.

“Tell me when,”

He managed to say back, every muscle in his sculpted body taught as he held back, that was, until, you began rocking your hips into his after a few minutes longer. His eyes almost rolled back in his head as he, Azriel, Spymaster of Night Court, let out the sluttiest whimper you’d ever heard as he began slowly pumping in and out.

“I’m not going to last,”

He rasped, and after a few minutes he was already about to fall apart completely, the feeling of your- his mate’s tight heat squeezing his cock like a vice grip, had him so, so close already. You managed a loose, breathy laugh.

“Me neither,”

You got out, the pleasure from earlier already building again into a giant wave, your sensitivity now threatening to overtake you as the world turned into a blur of movement, colors, and shadows. Whether by his command or their own free will, you felt the cold tendrils wind around your clit, circling and rubbing while others gave attention to your pert nipples.

What was really your undoing was when some began playing with your wings, stroking right over the insanely sensitive spot that had you arching and writhing beneath Azriel, moans and cries and sobs of pleasure echoing through the room.

As soon as your pussy fluttered around him and clenched, it fully succeeded in milking him of his cum as he came in thick spurts, bucking his hips wildly into you with a groan. It was only after that, that he settled ever so gently on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight.

The sounds of panting were the only ones for a few minutes before your bodes began screaming for more, more, more…

“Again.”

Part 2

#acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #writers on tumblr #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #acotar fluff #azriel fluff #azriel smut #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel x rhys’daughter #wingplay

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daycourtofficial · 1 year ago

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Gingerfucker - Eris x Rhys’s Sister!reader Masterlist

Banner by @milswrites | Note: these are in chronological order by content, not by posting date. This is an ongoing series and will be updated.

Summary: no one is more surprised than Eris Vanserra to find that he is capable of much more than just political ambition

Some art of the babies: (Nyx and Atlas) (All the gingersnaps) (Atlas and Leif) (Atlas) (the family)

Art by @dawneternal: Eris during the events of Cold was the steel of my axe to grind, portraits of the gingersnaps, art of Eris and Atlas

Gingerfucker week 2024 blurbs

Moodboard

It’s just to satiate the bond - an agreement to have sex just to satiate a mating bond neither party wants is a great idea. Surely no one will get hurt, right?

Insatiable you - immediately following the events of it’s just to satiate the bond - Eris’s sudden disappearance when you saw him last has left you in a foul mood for weeks. Unwilling to admit to the source of them, they aren’t as one sided as your mate wants you to think they are.

One single thread of gold tied me to you* - Eris accepts the mating bond and is incredibly touched by the effort you put into cooking him the meal from scratch

All’s well that ends well to end up with you - fears and doubts cause you and Eris to do your first irrational act together: a secret mating bond ceremony

I am ash from your fire - Surprising Eris one evening, you’ve turned up in the dead of night to let him know that your brother had figured out your secret relationship, offering you an ultimatum.

Cold was the steel of my axe to grind - centuries of plotting and scheming come to a head when his mate unexpectedly arrives in Autumn and Eris is desperate to set his plans in motion, least she become a piece for Beron to use against him

Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons - Eris leaves his mate alone in the Forest House, telling her to trust no one but his mother. The two women are ill-equipped to provide frontline fighting, but surely they can help Eris in their own way. *companion piece to ‘Cold was the steel of my axe to grind’

Hell was the journey but it brought me Heaven - in the immediate aftermath of Beron’s death and the thrum of power in his veins, Eris’s mate forces him to, at the bare minimum, bathe

Secret exchanges - a few weeks after the aftermath of Rhys’s banishment, your mate, the new High Lord of the Autumn Court, has a secret meeting with someone from your family.

Blood moon in Autumn - fae cycles are no joke, but your mate is always there to provide you comfort in the best way possible: by being your personal heating pad

Have I found you, flightless bird? - a reflection of a life of secrets and expectations and how, despite it all, a flightless bird found home in an unlikely place

Ferocious beasts with soft bellies - Eris’s hounds know you’re pregnant before either of you do, driving the two of you wild with their newfound devotion to you.

Starfall in Autumn - based on the prompt for Starfall week “characters a and b realize they won’t make it to Starfall. They make the most of what they have to celebrate”

Laborious anxieties - Eris is riddled with anxiety leading up to your labor, but what happens when some of his worst fears come to fruition?

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed - your relationship with Rhysand had been icy at best, but your attempts to reconcile are quick to be shot down. A rash decision leads you to endangering your life - can Eris find you in time? Can he save your infant son?

Amber eyes, looking into mine - Eris finds something in his study that triggers him into a frozen state of panic. Who better suited to pulling Eris from his past than his future?

We started alone, in the end we’re okay - on a rare night alone, Eris reflects on his long life and the lonely nights that haunted his youth. And how he’s a long way from the person he was and the person he had to be.

Fireling - every father’s dream is to be there the day his son first uses his powers. Luckily for Eris, he gets just that.

Let’s play restaurant - your son’s version of playing is confusing, but Eris is surprisingly good at any games he wants to play

How the kingdom lights shine just for me and you - Eris tells his sons a story, letting them know how a strong knight defeated an evil dragon and saved the kingdom.

Loving parents, harmless fun - Modern!Gingerfucker - slice of life where Eris takes his family on a roadtrip and is only slightly annoyed at his son’s choice of car game

* = smut

#gingerfucker #acotar fanfiction #acotar writing #eris vanserra fanfic

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bat-boys · 1 year ago

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besotted

pairing: Azriel x fem reader

word count: 3.7k

warnings: none, just tooth rotting fluff

summary: Rhys and Feyre have asked you to babysit Nyx for the day, meaning you get to spend the whole time enjoying one of your favourite weaknesses: your mate cuddling cute babies.

a/n: thank you so much for the love, it's been so lovely 🫶🏻. this fic is completely self-indulgent - I don't even want children but the thought of handsome men with babies? lord have mercy. My inbox is always open for a chat or fic suggestions /requests. Enjoy loves.

Velaris was truly stunning in every season, every weather, at any time of day, but for you, your favourite time in the city was during the height of summer. When the weather was perfect, the warmth not too stifling, and the evenings cool, the sun glistened on the smooth water of the Sidra, and the air was filled with the soft chattering and laughter of its citizens that lasted well into the evening.

A soft grin played on your lips as you strolled through the streets of the city you had grown up in, the warm breeze gently blowing the gauzy material of your trousers and licking at the stretch of skin exposed at the waist due to the cropped top you wore - the beautiful outfit a gift from your close friend Amren who shared your sense of style. Your confident and sure steps took you past familiar shops, filled to the brim with their exquisite wares as you approached the handful of shops you needed to visit.

As you neared the first shop you needed to visit, you turned your head slightly when you felt one of those familiar shadows that followed you everywhere. It slipped up your arm and affectionally curled around the skin between where your shoulder met your neck. The darkness cooled your warm skin, causing a soft smile to fall on your lips when you thought of the man to whom they belonged. Since being mated to Azriel, a handful of his shadows were always with you, and you had grown very fond of your own little shadows. According to the spymaster, they had left him on their own accord, feeling as protective of you as their master did. They acted almost as a messenger service between you and your mate.

"Are you okay, babe? One of your shadows just tapped me on the shoulder." As you entered the small shop, you spoke gently through that sparkling, glimmering thread you shared with your favourite person in the whole wide world.

"When are you heading back?" His deep, midnight-laced voice slipped into your mind, and you had to hold back the involuntary shudder as you touched one of the children's toys hanging on a rack before you.

"Why are you missing me already, Az?" Judging by the chuckle you heard that echoed in your head, he could practically hear the teasing smirk in your words.

"Always, sweetheart." There was a pause, and your eyebrows furrowed. You realized that something was actually amiss, and he wanted you home. "Nyx is fussing, and I don't know what to do."

This time, you chuckled out loud as you grabbed the toy from the rack and took it to the counter at the back of the shop to pay for it. You smiled gently at the shopkeeper, who warmly greeted you.

"He's probably hungry, babe; give him one of those bottles Feyre left. They're in the fridge." Rhys and Feyre had to attend a last-minute meeting today with the Court of Nightmares and Eris from the Autumn Court. They politely asked if you and Azriel could babysit Nyx on short notice. Initially, Azriel had put up a bit of a fuss, arguing that he needed to be there at the meeting, but Rhys had reasoned that Cassian would be there, as would Mor and Amren. Plus, he would show Az everything through his daemati ability. Feyre had sweetened the blow by telling Az you and him were Nyx's favourite aunt and uncle and that they trusted him the most to look after their precious son.

You had beamed at Azriel's shocked face, winking at Rhys as you had shared in your amusement. Azriel was absolutely besotted with the tiny babe and would protect him with his life if needed. You had no doubt Azriel would immediately sacrifice his life for Nyx, no questions asked. Privately, you had agreed entirely with the idea of you and Azriel protecting Nyx from a security perspective - both of you ready to use your extensive abilities to protect the tiny fae - but also because it meant you could watch Azriel cuddle the baby. In the last couple of months, it had become one of your favourite weaknesses when it came to the shadowsinger.

"Oh yeah, ok." Relief washed down the bond as he moved towards the kitchen and grabbed the bottle from the fridge, remembering how to warm it and test its temperature.

"You've babysat Nyx before, Az; you're a natural at this—trust your instincts, babe." You assured him as you passed the money over to the shopkeeper, gave her a warm smile, thanked her, and took the small bag she set on her counter. Wishing her a goodbye, you left the shop and stepped back into the warm streets of Velaris, heading towards the next shop.

"I've never babysat him before on my own!" You could practically hear the panic in his voice, and you shook your head absentmindedly at his lack of confidence in something he was exceptionally good at.

"You're his favourite uncle for a reason, Az! I won't be long, promise."

"Hurry back, sweetheart. I miss you too." A warm caress reached you through the bond, accompanied by the feeling of his shadows sliding up your thigh, the phantom feeling of his hands on your skin causing you to jolt ever so slightly. Wicked little things.

You had been hesitant to leave the Town House, which you and Az now called yours, this afternoon, but with Nyx arriving at such short notice, you needed more time to get some supplies in. You desperately needed some baby stuff and food for both yourself and your mate. You were just exchanging money with the butcher when you felt another frantic pulse through your bond.

"Babe, he's crying again! He's had the whole bottle." You sent your mate a pulse of affection through his bond, trying to calm him down as you slid the package of food you had just brought into one of your bags.

"Sweetheart, you need to burp him now." You gently reminded him.

"Oh shit yeah." You laughed at your mate, drawing some strange looks from passersby, which caused a slight blush to rise on your cheeks.

"No cursing around the baby!" This time, you felt Azriel's amusement through the bond, a warm beat of laughter that you would spend forever trying to coax from him - his laughter, deep, rich and full, was one of your favourite sounds.

"He can't hear me." He reasoned, his voice now calm now that you had given him a plan of action. He thrived in coordination and planning, able to adapt in times of chaos, but he preferred a detailed and methodical approach to everything. Even in the bedroom.

As you stepped out of the final shop, your purchases swinging from your hands, your face turned up to catch the afternoon rays as they gently warmed your face, you felt another shadow creep up your arm to practically tap on your shoulder.

"Fuck, now he's crying so loud I think he might bring the roof down!" Azriel was panicking again, and you could imagine him running his slender fingers through his hair - tuffs of midnight black standing up in a messy array as he started to pace.

"Az, calm down - he needs to sleep." In the Town House, Azriel felt a wave of calm wash over him as he listened to your levelled voice. No hint of irritation or annoyance in your voice. Even after all these years, he still had to fight his instincts that told him you would get tired of him and his pestering, overprotectiveness or panic, but you had been steadfast the entire time. Making sure he felt supported and loved through everything, and he could never be so grateful for the connection you had built together, the love you shared and the life you had crafted with each other.

"I've tried putting him down, but he screams louder." He sounded tired, and you had to stop yourself from teasing, knowing that wasn't what he needed right now.

"Pick him up. He probably wants you to cuddle him while he falls asleep." If you were being honest, you couldn't blame Nyx. Nothing, and you mean absolutely nothing, compares to Azriel's cuddles. You always felt so safe, so protected, and so comforted in his arms.

"Ok, yeah, I can do that. Gods, why are you so good at this love." You chuckled at the exasperation in his voice. Azriel must have been so agitated because, through the bond, he sent you images of him gently picking up a crying Nyx, his sweet face red and crumpled as he cried, and holding him to his chest. You tried so hard not to focus on those broad, beautiful, strong, scarred hands as they firmly held Nyx, thoughts of how he had held you last night entering into your mind unbidden and causing you to stumble on the uneven cobblestones of the path you were walking, "Careful love." You felt Az chuckle.

"Ass." You felt his amusement through the bond and his relief as Nyx began to calm down and snuggled into Azriel. "You're a natural at this, Az, though. I'm nearly home."

"See you soon, love." At the sound of his husky voice, filled with love, you felt your pace pick up as you made your way towards the beautiful home you shared, eager to get home to your waiting mate.

…

The Town House was quiet and bathed in darkness when you stepped inside. Trying to make as little noise as possible, you carefully set your bags on the entryway floor and slipped your shoes off, the cool wooden floor of the house soothing your hot feet.

A handful of shadows flew through the air towards you, darting around your body and playfully getting tangled up in your hair and clothes. They whispered at you to be quiet and told you that Azriel and Nyx were in the main living room.

With a grin on your face, you tip-toed over to the doorway to the living room and leaned against the frame as you took in the heartwarming scene before you. You had to physically stop the tears brimming in your eyes as you gazed at your mate, gently napping on the sofa with a content and fast asleep Nyx resting on his chest, softly snoring in the way only babes can.

The scene before you was so soft and sweet that you indulged yourself for a moment, picturing your own child fast asleep on your mate's strong chest. You stared for a while, marvelling at the beauty of Azriel. His strong arms were exposed due to his sleeveless top, his Illyrian tattoos proudly swirling around his dark skin - arms you know would hold you close in the dead of night, keep you standing when you were weak and protect you until the ends of the earth. His soft, slightly curled, midnight hair gently fell on his proud forehead, making him look almost boyish and not the formidable man he presented to the rest of the world. His soft, full lips that were parted slightly in sleep. His strong jaw and proud nose, his sculpted body and thick thighs. He truly was heaven-sent.

"I can feel you staring." He mumbled through the bond, and you had to stifle a soft laugh. Of course, Azriel wouldn't be entirely asleep - he rarely was; at least some part of him was always awake and alert. You think the only times Az had ever wholly given in to peaceful sleep was those precious weeks after you had accepted your mating bond when he was so tired and content to be next to you and holding you close that he couldn't resist falling into a deep slumber. But only after he had made sure the wards protecting the secluded cabin were still secure, ever the spymaster.

You pushed away from the doorframe and padded towards where your mate was sitting. He opened his eyes slightly, still sleepy from his brief nap, and his lips curled into a warm smile as you approached.

"Hi, love." You whispered as you bent over the back of the sofa to grip his face and press your lips to his in a sweet kiss. Kissing Az was something you would never get over, even after decades together. The feel of his plush but slightly chapped lips against yours, his delicious taste and scent enveloping your senses, had your toes curling against the cold wooden floor.

"I'm so glad you're back." You beamed at him as you stared at his upside-down face, gently stroking his jaw and feeling the slight stubble against the soft skin of your hands.

"Seems like you've got it handled," you teased as you turned your attention to the sleeping child on Azriel's chest. You reached out a hand to gently brush Nyx's soft hair off his forehead, desperately holding in the coo that threatened to leave your lips as he let out a soft sigh and nestled further into Az's chest. Who could blame him, you thought? You had the exact same favourite sleeping position.

"You're definitely better at this than me," he mumbled as you skirted around the sofa to sit beside your mate. He ever so slowly and ever so gently shifted so as not to wake Nyx so you could tuck yourself into his side. His arm curled around your shoulders to bring you closer, planting a gentle kiss on your temple.

"How long has Nyx been asleep?" you whispered as you snuggled closer to your mate, hand reaching out to gently stroke up and down Nyx's back in a soothing manner you knew he liked.

"About 20 minutes." You hummed, proud of Azriel for handling the situation. He had been so nervous around the babe when he was first born—so conscious of the tiny, breakable fae he now felt some reasonability for.

"I'd say you've had it completely covered, babe." Nyx stirred ever so slightly, and you knew from experience that you had exactly 5 minutes before he woke up and was agitated again due to not sleeping enough.

A soft hum filled the quiet air as you got up and gently took the sleeping child from Azriel, whispering soothing noises. He stirred slightly as you manoeuvred him into your arms. You bounced ever so slightly on your toes, continuing to hum a lullaby you had heard Feyre singing to him the other day as you walked over to the travelling crib Azriel had set up next to the sofa. Ever so gently, you lowered Nyx into the plush mattress, stroking a finger down his cheeks in a way you knew he liked as you watched him settle back to sleep.

Azriel just sat back, arms spread out on the back of the sofa behind him, as he watched you so expertly soothe Nyx. He could practically feel his eyes turning into hearts as he watched you, almost unable to control the all-consuming feeling of love that was threatening to spill from him. He loved you so much and had done so for hundreds of years, but in recent months, watching you become so enamoured by your nephew, a new tentative love grew.

You turned around, and Azriel offered you one of his sweet smiles before holding out an outstretched hand and silently bidding you to return to his side. With a matching grin, you took his hand and let him pull you in beside him before shifting you both, so you were lying down on the sofa, both facing Nyx as Azriel wound his arms around you to pull you flush against his chest.

A feeling of absolute contentment flooded Azriel as you lay there, breathing in your sweet scent and kissing your soft hair. You shifted closer to him, fingers stroking over his hands wrapped around your waist, holding you close. Mirroring smiles danced on your lips as you watched your nephew and enjoyed the comfortable silence that had settled over the Town House.

"I love seeing you with Nyx Az." You whispered into the soft silence, and you felt a pulse of utter adoration through the thread you both shared.

"Hmmm, do you, love?" He mumbled into your hair, an ear-splitting grin stretching on his lips. He was unable to deny that primal part of him that basked in the glow of your words—that you had admitted enjoying seeing him with children.

"It's my ultimate weakness." He chuckled softly.

"Seeing you with him is mine, too," he confessed back, his arms loosening as you turned around to face him. For a minute, you just looked at him, eyes drinking in his handsome face, flitting over his lips and his nose before settling on his hazel eyes, which were gazing at you with such emotion that a lump formed at the back of your throat.

Slowly, lazily, you brought your hand up to trace the features of his face before gently pushing a soft curl of his hair that had fallen over his forehead. The ring he had gifted you nearly 60 years ago glinted in the dim light.

"Have you ever considered it?" You whispered shyly. It wasn't a topic you had discussed with Azriel much; there simply hadn't been enough time. Shortly after the bond had snapped for the both of you - after years of pining and yearning for each other - Rhys had gone under the mountain. You had spent those long years trying to hold everyone together, and then Rhys had returned, and you had been focused on bringing him and Feyre back from that dark place where they had found themselves. Then, the devastating war you had all been plunged into. It had not been an environment you could ever bring a child into.

"What?" He knew what you meant, but he wanted to hear the words come from your lips.

"Having children of our own?" The words felt fragile between you. Deep down, you knew you were both on the same page, but still, this was not a conversation you had had before. The soft smile dancing on Az's lips soothed you, however, as he, too, brought his hand up to delicately trace your features.

"I didn't think I would ever get the opportunity to be a father, certainly didn't think I would be a good one. But seeing you with Nyx these last couple of months…yeah, I have." His confession was soft, and you couldn't help yourself as you closed that small distance between you two to press your lips to his in a kiss that held a promise and contained all of the love you could ever feel for the male. His arms wrapped tightly around you again as he held you close and lost himself in the delicious feeling of your lips on his.

You broke away gently, slowly, languidly, eyes still closed as you leaned in to press short kisses to his lips. Resting your forehead against his, you stayed there, breathing him in, hands softly caressing his face. "You will be such a good dad, Az. You will be patient, kind and considerate. Fun when you want to be, firm when you need to be, and comforting when they're sad or frustrated. I've thought about it too." You made sure you delivered the words whilst looking him in the eyes, conveying just how much you meant the words.

"Yeah?" His voice was hoarse, and you spotted tears brimming in his beautiful eyes, your heart breaking in your chest at the fact that he had so desperately needed to hear the words. You leaned in to kiss his lips again, hand resting on his chest to feel his thundering heart as he breathed in a shaky breath.

"I don't think I'm ready just yet. I still want to experience life with you," you whispered, an amused smirk playing on your lips. You hadn't had enough time with Az yet. There was still so much of the world to see, so many things you wanted to explore with just your mate before you put down roots and grew a beautiful family of your own.

"I feel the same." He reassured, pulling you closer again, desperate to make sure not a single inch of space was between you two.

"But when the time is right, when we are ready. It would bring me nothing but joy to have children together." A stunning smile you had not seen before stretched across Azriel's face, and you gasped at the powerful pulse that reverberated down the bond from your mate. It was pure light—beautiful, gleaming light—such happiness radiating from between you two that you imagined both of your skins glowing with it.

"I love you so much, Y/N." He said reverently.

"I love you too." The distance between your lips closed again as you placed a sweet kiss on his lips, tilting your head slightly to deepen in - determined to convey just how much you love him, how thankful you are to the Mother and the Cauldron for giving you, Azriel as your mate. You felt him moan softly as you slipped your tongue past the seam of his lips, gently licking into his mouth as you swallowed the soft sounds you were both making. You pulled away with a mischievous grin dancing on your lips, "Gods, our kids would be cute."

"Do you think so?" He asked, pushing your hair behind your pointed ears so he could see your face clearly.

"What, you don't?" You asked in mock shock and horror, causing another chuckle to rumble through his chest.

"As long as they take after you, sweetheart, they will be the cutest children Prythian has ever seen." You laughed at him, but secretly, you hoped they looked nothing like you and took after the incredible man you had been mated to for all of these years—that they had his kind eyes, gentle smile, and luxurious locks of soft midnight hair.

"I can't wait." You whispered as you laid your head down beside him, nuzzling into his neck and breathing in his scent of mist and cedar, the smell of home.

"Neither can I, my love." He whispered back to you as he held you close, kissing your hairline and temple. You both let your heavy eyelids droop as your limbs tangled on the sofa. Nyx continued to sleep softly beside you. One day soon, it would be your child in that crib, you promised yourself and Az through that golden thread deep in your heart before you both fell peacefully asleep.

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brunettemarionette · 22 days ago

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Hello you wonderfully talented being that has graced my page!! I hope you are doing well and I absolutely love your writing!! I think you are just fantastic!!! Might I please request the soa boys getting in an argument with their fem s/o who flashes them their tatas to try and get out of the argument?

Take your time, live your best life, and may you always find something to read that hits just right!!

Thank you so much for you kind words! I hope you enjoy reading this.

𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐛𝐬 𝐀𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐓𝐨 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐎𝐮𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐀𝐧 𝐀𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

☾‧₊˚ ⋅ ― female reader. no description of features. no mentions of size, race or age.

𝗝𝗮𝘅 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

You’re in the middle of a heated argument with Jax in the clubhouse, his blue eyes flashing as he leans against the bar, jaw tight. “Darlin’, you can’t just keep pullin’ this reckless shit!” he snaps, voice low but sharp, his hands gripping the counter.

You’re tired of his overprotective streak, so you cross your arms, glaring back. “I can handle myself, Jax!” The tension spikes, and you can tell he’s about to double down—until you smirk, lift your shirt, and flash him.

His words catch in his throat, eyes widening as he stares, a slow grin creeping across his face. “Well, damn,” he drawls, stepping closer, argument forgotten. “That’s one way to shut me up.” He pulls you into a kiss, his hands already wandering, the fight dissolving into heat.

𝗢𝗽𝗶𝗲 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Opie towers over you in the garage, his deep voice rumbling as he glares, arms crossed. “You went behind my back, Sweetheart. That’s not how this works.” His intensity makes your heart race, but you’re not backing down.

“I did what I had to, Ope!” you fire back, hands on your hips. The argument’s getting nowhere, so you decide to play dirty. With a mischievous glint, you lift your top, flashing him.

Opie freezes, his scowl softening as his eyes drop to your chest, then back up to your face. “Really?” he says, voice low, a faint blush creeping up his beard. He steps forward, grabbing your waist. “You’re trouble,” he mutters, pulling you close, the argument buried under a hungry kiss.

𝗛𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Happy’s staring you down in the dimly lit safehouse, his raspy voice cutting through the silence. “You don’t listen, girl. That’s gonna get you hurt.” His dark eyes are unreadable, but the edge in his tone sets you off.

“I’m not some damsel, Hap!” you snap, pacing. The argument’s intense, his silence louder than words, so you decide to shake him up. You yank up your shirt, flashing him with a defiant smirk.

Happy’s eyes narrow, a dangerous glint flashing as he steps closer, voice dropping to a growl. “That’s your move?” He grabs your hips, pinning you against the wall. “Argument’s over,” he says, his lips crashing into yours, all heat and no mercy.

𝗝𝘂𝗶𝗰𝗲 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Juice is pacing in the clubhouse, hands running over his shaved head as he argues. “Babe, you can’t just go off like that! What if something happened?” His worry’s sweet, but it’s driving you nuts.

“I’m fine, Juice! Stop babying me!” you retort, exasperated. He’s about to lecture again, so you cut him off with a bold move, lifting your shirt to flash him.

His jaw drops, eyes wide as he stumbles over his words, cheeks flushing. “Uh… damn, Baby,” he mumbles, scratching his neck, a shy grin breaking through. He steps closer, argument forgotten. “You win,” he says, pulling you into a soft, needy kiss, still blushing.

𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗯𝘀 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Chibs leans against his bike, his thick Scottish accent sharp as he glares at you. “Lass, ye can’t be pullin’ stunts like that. Club’s got enough trouble.” His scarred cheeks are flushed with frustration, and you’re just as fired up.

“I’m not your kid, Chibs! I can handle it!” you snap, hands on your hips. The argument’s going in circles, so you decide to end it. With a cheeky grin, you lift your shirt, flashing him.

Chibs’ eyes widen, a low chuckle rumbling out. “Well, now, that’s not fair,” he says, stepping close, his hands finding your waist. “Ye’re gonna make me forget me point.” He kisses you deeply, argument lost in the heat.

𝗧𝗶𝗴 ☾‧₊˚ ⋅

Tig’s in your face at the clubhouse, his wild blue eyes flashing as he gestures wildly. “Doll, you keep pullin’ this crap, I’m gonna lose it!” His voice is all growl, but you’re not intimidated—you know Tig’s bark is worse than his bite.

“I’m not scared of you, Tiggy!” you shoot back, smirking. He’s about to rant again, so you lift your shirt, flashing him with a wicked grin.

Tig freezes, eyes locked on you, then lets out a low whistle. “Well, hell, sweetheart,” he says, grinning like a predator. “Argument’s done.” He grabs you, pulling you into a rough, hungry kiss, his hands already roaming.

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moonfawnx · 1 year ago

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Hands touching, fingers entangling

Nyx Archeron x reader

Series Masterlist

summary: When looking for a gift for his aunt, Nyx stumbles upon a strange girl, who even more strangely, has no idea who he is. What happens when a few days after he meets her, guards bring her to his parents claiming she’s a human that got past the shields?

prologue

Chapter one

Chapter two (coming soon)

Chapter three

#acotar #nyx acotar #nyx archeron #nyx x reader #feysand son #feyre archeron #rhysand #a court of thorns and roses

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velaris-fic-repository · 18 days ago

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Starry Night Orchids | Chapter 1

Nyx x Eris’s Daughter!Reader

A/N: This was so fun to write oh my goodness!

Nyx stared at the hound with wide eyes. “Does she bring that thing fucking everywhere?”

Merrick, Tarquin’s son, heir to Summer, and Nyx’s honorary cousin by way of Amren and Varian’s common-law marriage, gulped beside him, “since he was big enough to go with her, yes.”

The terrifying terror of a hunting dog heeled at your feet had been a present from your father several years ago. A hound you could raise yourself for whatever purpose you wished. Many in your court - remnants from the days of the grandfather you never had the misfortune of meeting - had expected you to raise the pup as an adorable furry friend like the foxes you had a habit of feeding. Something they thought befit their opinion of what a High Lord’s daughter should be.

You had raised a furry friend alright, just one more suited for physical and social battles than walks through the woods.

In secret you babied Wolfe, but he was a smart dog. He understood that while you loved him, and behind closed doors would give him all the scritches and kisses he wanted, there were times and places for different kinds of work. This Autumn Equinox ball was one of them.

Your father, Eris, had done a great deal of work in the Autumn Court after the truly unfortunate demise of your grandfather. Not that you were alive to see those immediate changes.

He’d told you that he wanted to make the court a better place for many people. Your grandmother - though she lived in Day now - your Uncle Lucien, your mother, you.

But while Autumn had mostly turned from a court of teeth and fire to one more focused on the glories of your season, there was still a reputation to uphold. Many of the High Lords suspected that Beron’s rule had not ended peacefully. And as much as they may prefer Eris to your late grandfather, they were still just a bit wary of your family.

Your father never wanted you, his heir and beloved daughter, to ever bow or shrink for anyone. So posturing and baring your teeth, as it were, is what you did. Many in Prythian were mildly unnerved by you and Wolfe, and you liked it that way. Their momentary apprehension fueled you, made you feel confident in the power you already had.

Even if, often, you wished someone would see the heart of you. The way your mother had with Eris.

You looked up from your assessment of the room, eyes alighting on Nyx and Merrick watching you from across the crowded hall. You grinned at them scratching behind Wolfe’s ear, relishing in the discomfort in the Summer Court heir.

Nyx however, knew a little more about your family history than Merrick. Your uncle was his mother’s close friend even if the bond with his aunt didn’t pan out. And he knew exactly how your father got the throne, and how different a male Eris was from what he showed most of Prythian.

There was a deadly edge to your smile, but Nyx found himself unbothered by it. He knew the roles his family has played before. He’d come to recognize similar performances in others.

He scrunched his nose up skeptically your way. If you wanted to throw him off kilter, you’d have to work harder than that.

For some unexplainable reason - one that totally, absolutely escaped him - Nyx had taken to watching you at events like this one.

He watched as a tall blond male, dripping with smarm, dressed in a mortifying shade of orange, approached you. He recognized the male and ground his teeth. Complicated history between Autumn and Night aside, there was no one at this party he’d rather you not talk to than Oleander.

“Hi boys,” a female voice purred behind Nyx and Merrick. Nyx had been halfway into marching over to you, when his shoulder was touched - wings blessedly tucked away - drawing his attention behind him.

With one hand each on his and Merrick’s backs, the twin to the male talking to you, was grinning coyly up at them.

Amaryllis and her brother Oleander, the terrible twin heirs to Spring. Tamlin’s simpering and backhanded children.

Nyx pivoted immediately, removing her hand from his back, Merrick a step behind. Amaryllis was wearing a puffy purple dress that was darker than her usual shades, coming across almost as the color of a night dark sky or ocean. Nyx and Merrick shared brief, similar looks of disdain. Merrick’s was gone faster and was far more subtle, however.

One of the Spring twins’ favorite things to do at parties like this was to taunt people not just with their conversational slings and arrows, but in their dress as well. Often, they wore colors specifically to signal one thing or another to whoever their chosen target of the evening was. It never made sense to Nyx but most of what Spring got up to didn’t make sense to him.

Nyx couldn’t keep himself from rolling his eyes, “what do you want?”

Amaryllis’s eyes turned big, pitiful and doe-like and both boys knew every bit of it was fake as could be. “I can’t just want to talk to someone?”

“In my experience, Amaryllis,” Merrick said, voice diplomatic, “you don’t often make-“

“You don’t talk to somebody unless you want something,” Nyx said, not having enough patience with the female in front of him to let Merrick finish. “So what do you want?”

“Would either of you care to offer the lady a dance?”

Nyx snorted. Merrick stayed quiet.

After a beat Nyx said, “you’re serious?”

Amaryllis’s eyes bubbled with crocodile tears. “Yes.”

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,’ Nyx thought in Merrick’s direction.

Merrick sighed, “there are plenty of other males to dance with Amaryllis, why not ask them?”

Amaryllis began to sniffle and blubber.

‘Cauldron, how old is she?’ Nyx quietly said again. Had it been anyone else, Nyx wouldn’t have denied a pretty girl the chance to dance. He loved dancing in settings like this. It was always fun, a little flirtatious, and always entertaining.

It was a shame that the potential partner this time was a female he positively could not stand.

‘She’s going to make a scene if one of us doesn’t do something,’ Merrick thought back. It appeared he didn’t want to dance with her anymore than Nyx did.

Merrick had a massive crush on Kallias and Viviane’s daughter. He wanted to court her properly, he just hadn’t worked up the nerve to ask her yet. The last thing he needed was rumors swirling around about him and the female heir of Spring. The relationship would be over before it even got the chance to start. Amaryllis, conniving little snake that she was, likely knew that. She was banking on Nyx’s hatred of her to spell doom for Merrick’s romantic prospects.

��Fine,” Nyx said, “If I dance with you once will you leave us both alone?”

“Nyx, you don’t,” Merrick began but the terror in purple cut him off.

“Sure, Nyxie.” A feral, satisfied smile, assuring him that she’d gotten exactly what she wanted. Nyx fought the urge to vomit.

Nyx’s usual play was bowing and offering a hand to his prospective dance partner. Once the hand was taken, he’d gaze up at them and softly kiss the back of it. Then he’d smile - a mix of genuine joy and mischievous glee - as he watched the reaction.

Instead, this time, he stiffly held himself in a dancing position, waiting for her to take his hands.

She glommed onto him, wrapping herself around him in a hug, hands brushed his shoulders where his wings would be if they weren’t magically concealed. Firmly, he grabbed her hands and pulled them back where he wanted them.

Merrick sent Nyx the most apologetic look he’d ever seen.

‘Finally ask your girl to dance, and we’re even, okay? Don’t feel sorry for me, I’ll manage.’ Nyx stiffly spun Amaryllis around, out of Merrick’s view. ‘Go now before she sees.’

Then Merrick was gone.

The music swirled around them and the other dancers, and Nyx quickly decided he hated this piece.

“The way people rave about your dancing, I wouldn’t have thought you’d be so stiff, Nyxie,” Amaryllis cooed with a coquettish little laugh.

Nyx really was starting to feel sick, perhaps that last spin had been a mistake.

“My dancing is entirely dependent on the company I do it with,” he said.

“Aww, you don’t mean that!”

Twelve different disarming comments danced on the tip of Nyx’s tongue but he forwent them all in favor of another stiff spin.

Commotion to the side of the ballroom halted all dancing and conversation. Nyx dropped Amaryllis’s hands as his head whipped over to where the sound had come from.

Over in the last place Nyx had seen you, Oleander stood - a raging image of his father. He held his hand aloft, a bit of blood dripping from small puncture wounds. You were gone, the faint sent of smoke wafting over to Nyx. Wolfe, however, stood dropped low in a crouch a pace away from Oleander, growling, with faintly red teeth.

“The fucking thing bit me!”

Amaryllis surged over to her brother, pulling him away from Wolfe like he was the greatest monster known to faekind, all the while fretting over the tiny puncture marks that clearly were a warning nip more than anything else. For Cauldron’s sake, he could tell from where he stood the wounds wouldn’t last the hour.

Nyx walked over, cautiously but firmly approaching Wolfe, who was still faintly growling up at Oleander.

“Someone needs to put that thing down!” Oleander shouted.

Nyx held his hand out for Wolfe, who paused his snarling to look up at the Night Court’s heir. Wolfe sniffed the offered hand, looking at Nyx with indifference.

“He doesn’t seem too bad to me,” Nyx responded, “he was trained to protect his owner, seems to me he was just doing his job.”

Amaryllis dramatically gasped, something a bad actress in one of Velaris’s many theaters would have thought to accurately portray horrific betrayal.

Nyx ignored her, staring down her brother. He received a similar look of contempt from Oleander.

Nyx shrugged, placed one hand in his pocket, carefully scratched Wolfe behind the ear and whispered, “let’s go find your mom, huh?”

Wolfe looked at Oleander one final time before plodding after the smoke smell to the door, Nyx following after, pausing only to open the door and step outside after the dog. He didn’t care that the ballroom remained silent the entire time, he had an Autumn Court princess to find.

“Nyx!” Amaryllis, the brat that she was, whined, “we haven’t finished dancing yet!”

Nyx quickly, without looking back, gestured to the silent ballroom, “Sounds like the song’s over.”

He swore he heard his uncle’s booming laugh just before the door closed.

Outside the Forest House, on the exterior walkways, it was beautiful. Soft golden light flitted out through the windows, partially lighting the darkened balcony. Nyx would give Autumn this, it was gorgeous at night. The reds and oranges of the leaves turned shades of blue and purple in the dark, the only lights being the golden red of a hearth or campfire. Looking up, Nyx noticed that the moon was almost perpetually golden here. An ever harvest moon for the seasonal court built on yields of abundant crops.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” He heard a hushed, sweet voice further away, followed by a sigh of relief. He blinked in the dark, glancing in front of him to find you. Hidden away from the light of the windows, visible only where you’d knelt down to inspect your prized pooch.

Nyx, even though he’d suspected some of what he saw now, was surprised to see you like this. Kneeling in front of your beloved furry friend, your hair haloed where the golden light from inside just managed to reach you. There were drying tear tracks on your face, he realized with a start.

You looked small, cracked slightly to his eyes, as you hugged Wolfe to you.

“I’m so sorry, bud,” you said, even through your own discomfort, “I’m sorry I left you there.”

“You really should see the other guy,” Nyx said stepping closer, “I thought Amaryllis was going to faint.”

You looked up, recognizing who stood before you, and stiffened. Where Wolfe had been licking at your tears, he stopped, heeling to sit at your feet as you stood up. He sat regally beside you, watching Nyx with a sharp eye.

“It’s you.”

“It’s me.”

“What do you want?” You wiped as subtly as you could at what evidence of your tears remained on your face, but Nyx had seen it and it appeared you recognized that. Classified the information he now had on you. Nyx found he didn’t like how unsettled you seemed by it.

“I, uhm, I was helping Wolfe find his way back to you. Oleander looked about ready to-“ Nyx realized that what he was about to say would likely be unhelpful, and stopped.

You beat him to the thought though. “If he even thinks of laying a finger on Wolfe, I’ll kill him. I- I don’t care what anyone says.”

Nyx noted the stumble in your words, that little pause that could say so much if he figured out what it was for.

“Well,” you said, still sounding a little shaken, “was there anything else you needed? Anything hospitality wise is inside” The edge hadn’t left your voice, but Nyx decided he’d try his luck tonight.

He leaned his arms on the railing, looking cautiously at you, not unlike approaching a wild animal. “Actually, I wanted to check and see if you were okay.”

“Well, I’m fine, alright, I don’t want your help, and I certainly don’t want your pity,” you bit at him.

Nyx pushed forward, “What did he say to you?”

You said nothing.

“I know he said something, or the ballroom wouldn’t have smelled like a barely contained inferno. What did he say?”

The balcony doors eased open a crack, allowing another figure to step out onto the walkway.

“There you are,” a familiar, smooth voice said as your Uncle Lucien swept over to stand between the two of you. “I’ve been looking everywhere. You are a remarkably difficult female to find, young lady.”

For the first time all evening, Nyx watched a real smile spread across your face. Like starlight in the darkness. It was…

“You’ve been hunting with me before,” you said to Lucien, “you shouldn’t be surprised.”

Lucien smiled rakishly at you, shaking his head fondly. His expression shifted to a more serious one as he asked, “are you alright?”

Nyx expected some bite, some comment to your uncle to mind his own business, but instead, you seemed to melt like candle wax. As if Lucien held the magic words to loosen your tongue.

You looked down to save yourself some amount of embarrassment, but you answered him. “I’ve been better.”

Nyx shifted, remaining quiet. It was like you’d forgotten he was there. The sharp-toothed, sharp-clawed Princess of Autumn was gone. This was Lucien’s niece, and she’d been hurt tonight.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You looked up at Lucien with a sharp eye, the word ‘no,’ etched into every inch of you.

“Okay,” Lucien said, “answer a question or two for me first, little flame?”

“Fine.”

“Did Oleander approach you, or did you approach him?”

“He came to me.”

“And Wolfe-“

“I didn’t tell him to do anything, I just left. I assumed he’d follow me. Oleander must have done something. He can say whatever lie he wants, but we didn’t do anything to him that he didn’t earn.”

Wolfe, as if to help, barked.

Lucien looked down at the dog and nodded sagely. That got a laugh out of you, and an unbidden soft smile out of Nyx.

“There she is,” Lucien smiled.

The balcony doors opened once again, your father’s broad shadow stretching out to meet you all before the door shut behind him.

Eris frowned at you and shared a brief look with his little brother. He sent one quick side glance at Nyx as well before he said, “I’d like to speak with my daughter. Alone.”

“Where’s-“ Lucien began but he didn’t have to say your mother’s name for any of you to know who he was asking about.

“Inside, handling it,” Eris responded.

Eris’s tone didn’t sound angered, at least not at you, but Nyx watched as you dropped your head, suddenly very interested in your boots and Wolfe’s paws.

“And no,” Eris said, a touch of his customary dry humor leaking in, “she does not need your help, brother. We’ll be inside shortly.”

Lucien nodded, sending a sympathetic smile your way before walking to the door.

“Alone means you too, boy,” Eris said when Nyx didn’t move.

Nyx locked eyes with you, then looked over his shoulder at Lucien, who stood waiting for him by the door.

Not entirely wanting to, Nyx turned and followed Lucien inside.

“Let’s go find Cassian,” Lucien suggested, “the least we can do for the High Lady is ensure he doesn’t aggravate the situation.”

“Is she going to be okay?” Nyx asked. He didn’t have to specify he was talking about you.

Lucien paused, looking down at his friend’s son, at the concern on his face. “She’ll be alright, I’m sure. I don’t know what happened, but if she is every inch her mother and father’s daughter - and she is - she will be just fine. Thank you, Nyx, for checking on her before we could.”

Nyx nodded then with a sour expression, “What makes Oleander and Amaryllis think they can get away with treating people like this?”

Lucien sighed, “Those children are products of their environment. Tam… Their father did not shield them from his worst courtiers and the two of them learned by example.”

“That doesn’t make it right,” Nyx argued.

“No,” Lucien said, patting the younger male’s shoulder, “No it doesn’t. Come on.”

Nyx frowned, sending one last look back over his shoulders, hoping to catch a glimpse of you and Eris through the window.

Outside, Eris studied you momentarily. He waited for you to start, but once he realized you would not, that you would continue staring at the ground, he sighed and tilted your head up to meet his eyes.

“Darling, what’s wrong?”

“Pretty sure the whole ballroom saw.”

Eris tilted his head, waiting.

You grabbed Wolfe and hugged him, resting your chin on his head. The affection had him wagging his tail softly into your side, but he whined for both of you.

“Darling, please,” Eris said, his voice like a breaking heart.

You mumbled your answer into Wolfe’s fur.

“What?”

“I failed you,” you said.

Now Eris’s heart truly did break. He didn’t balk at the dog in between you, pulling the both of you closer, wrapping his arms around the two of you, studying your face.

“Failed me how, fawn?”

You growled your frustration. “Today was mine. Ours. Our equinox. And I let him take it from me, I let him ruin it. I let him win. I let him beat me.”

“And you’ll be ready for him next time, little vixen,” Eris said, comfortingly.

“Is mother-“

“She’s talking to Tamlin now, things will be fine, darling. You did everything right.”

You sighed, rubbing your thumb through Wolfe’s fur.

“I have to ask, however,” he began, dangling the end of his sentence, waiting for your answer.

Oleander’s words echoed in your head, a million back-handed little comments.

Interesting that no one wanted to dance with a vicious little thing like you.

Everyone knows what your father did.

Shut up, you’d said.

What are you going to do, kill me?

Nothing serious, but every tiny jab had been delivered with such a sadistic sneer that they stuck in, penetrated your armor and illuminated everything you feared. All you’d ever wanted was for someone to love you. Oleander highlighted your most devastating what-if. What if no one trusted you enough to try?

“I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to sleep,” you responded.

Eris nodded, “alright.”

He stood and offered his arm to you.

“I can walk there myself, father,” you groaned.

Eris smiled softly, “someone needs to escort the lady home.”

You faintly smiled back, linking your arm with his and fell onto his broad arm. Leaning into your father’s steady support the whole way, your best friend with four paws trailing behind you.

A/N: Ah! Super proud of this one! I had a lot of fun with names in this! Looking forward to the next one! Let me know what you think and if you want to be tagged! Have a good night!

P.S. Did you know orchids are spring and fall blooming flowers?

#acotar x reader #nyx archeron x reader #nyx x reader #nyx archeron #adult nyx #eris vanserra #platonic!lucien vanserra x reader #platonic!eris vanserra x reader #acotar #lucien vanserra #x reader fic

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callsigns-haze · 4 months ago

Text

-ˋˏ The week it all went south ˎˊ-

Part 1

Pairing: Azriel x Rhysand's sister!reader

Azriel has the perfect life. You as his wife. Kaia as his daughter. But him and the boys are stupid enough to challenge you for a week and then his perfect life might simply...disappear

Warning: FUTURE ANGST, mentions of past lovers, mentions of sex, cursing, kissing.

Word count: 13937

Rhysand's office was dimly lit, the soft glow of faelight casting long shadows over the dark mahogany furniture. The air smelled faintly of leather, ink, and the rich tang of spiced wine. Cassian leaned back in one of the armchairs, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, while Azriel sat with his customary stillness, though his eyes betrayed the warmth of someone entirely at ease. Rhysand, perched on the edge of his desk, held his own drink with the casual elegance he always seemed to exude.

“Remind me again,” Cassian said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Why do we still have to deal with these Illyrian males who think they’re gods’ gift to training camps? I’ve been dealing with one this week who couldn’t even hold his sword properly, and he still had the audacity to call himself a warrior.”

Rhysand snorted, taking a sip of his drink. “Because if we don’t, they’ll tear themselves apart—or worse, decide to revolt again. You’re good at handling them, Cass.”

“Good at handling them?” Cassian scoffed. “I’ve got three sons at home who listen better than most of those arrogant bastards.”

Rhysand smirked. “That says more about Nesta than it does you.”

Azriel chuckled softly, the sound rare but genuine. “How are your boys doing, anyway?”

Cassian’s face softened instantly, a smile tugging at his lips. “Torran’s growing too fast. He’s already outpacing me in drills. Emrys is still too young to care about swords, which drives Torran insane. And little Calen—” He shook his head, laughing. “That one’s going to be the death of me. He’s climbing everything he sees. Nesta caught him on the roof last week.”

Azriel raised a brow. “The roof?”

Cassian nodded grimly. “Nesta nearly burned the house down when she found him. I don’t know whether to be proud or terrified. Probably both.”

Rhysand laughed, tipping his glass toward Cassian. “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

“And you don’t?” Cassian shot back. “How’s Nyx? Still giving you and Feyre a run for your money?”

Rhysand sighed dramatically. “Thirteen is...a challenge. He’s inherited Feyre’s stubbornness and my sharp tongue, which is a dangerous combination.”

Cassian snorted. “Sounds like poetic justice to me.”

Rhysand ignored him. “He’s growing into his powers faster than we expected. Sometimes I don’t know whether to be proud or worried. Feyre’s convinced he’s going to be stronger than both of us one day.”

“He probably will be,” Azriel said simply, his voice laced with quiet confidence.

Rhysand tilted his head, considering. “Maybe. But I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Azriel shook his head slightly, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Nyx will outpace you before you know it.”

Cassian grinned. “And then you’ll know what it feels like when your kids don’t need you to teach them anymore.”

Rhysand rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He turned to Azriel. “Speaking of kids, how’s Kaia?”

Azriel’s expression softened instantly, the shadows around him retreating. “She’s...perfect. Curious about everything. She spent half an hour today chasing after her own shadow, trying to figure out why it wouldn’t go away.” His voice was tinged with amusement and an unmistakable love.

Cassian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “And YN? Is she keeping up with her?”

Azriel gave a quiet laugh. “Barely. Kaia’s too quick for her own good. YN says she’s going to start making me run after her when she gets tired.”

Rhysand smirked. “You always were the fastest, Az. Seems fitting.”

Azriel shot him a look, though it lacked any real venom. “I’ll remind you of that when you’re chasing Nyx through Velaris at two in the morning.”

Cassian laughed, raising his glass in a mock toast. “To fatherhood. The most exhausting battle we’ve ever fought.”

The other two raised their glasses, the clink of crystal filling the room.

Rhysand’s gaze flicked between them, his expression uncharacteristically soft. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”

Cassian nodded, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “Yeah, we have.”

The door to Rhysand's office creaked open just enough for a small, tousled head to peek inside. Azriel’s sharp gaze flicked to the doorway, his eyes softening as Kaia’s little feet padded across the stone floor. Without hesitation, she ran straight to him, her tiny wings fluttering in a haphazard attempt to take off.

“Dada!” she squealed, her voice high-pitched and filled with excitement. She launched herself into his arms with a giggle, and Azriel caught her effortlessly, pulling her close.

“Kaia,” Azriel murmured, pressing a kiss to her messy hair. “What are you doing up, sweetheart?”

She tilted her head, big amber eyes that mirrored his looking up at him with feigned innocence. “I no want bath,” she said, wrinkling her little nose in distaste. Her chubby arms wrapped around him tighter. “Mama say I need bath... but I hide!”

Azriel’s lips twitched at the sight of her determination. “You hid from your mama to come find me?”

Kaia nodded vigorously, her curls bouncing with every movement. “Ye! I run real fast! Hide so no bath! No bath, Dada!” Her words were still jumbled with her toddler speech, but the meaning was clear enough.

Cassian leaned forward in his chair, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “What about me, huh? I don’t get a hug?”

Kaia squinted at him, brows furrowing as if trying to understand. After a moment, she shook her head and pointed a finger at him accusingly. “You too loud!” she declared with absolute certainty, her little lips pouting. “You talk all da time. I no like.”

Cassian laughed, throwing his head back. “Too loud? I’m the fun one, Kaia. You can’t just pick favourites like that.”

But Kaia was already halfway out of his reach, shifting in Azriel’s lap as she snuggled in closer to him. Her tiny hands reached up and tugged at Rhysand’s dark hair, as if the pull of his long strands was just too tempting.

“Rhysie,” she said with a giggle, her toddler voice softening the name into something both endearing and mischievous. Rhysand chuckled, allowing her to yank on his hair without complaint.

“You’re a little troublemaker, Kaia,” Rhysand said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as she pulled harder, then instantly snuggled back into Azriel’s side.

“Don’t pull on Rhysie’s hair, sweetling,” Azriel said gently, though there was a fond smile on his face. He wrapped an arm tighter around her as she cuddled against his chest, clearly not bothered by his warning.

“No bath!” Kaia protested again, her speech barely coherent as she pouted. “Mama no get me! I run! I hide!” She giggled again, clearly proud of herself. “Mama say I need clean. I say no! I say no bath, no bath, no bath!”

Azriel shook his head, chuckling softly as he ran his fingers through her dark hair. “You’re very clever, little one.” He looked at the others, sharing a silent understanding that there was no way Kaia was going back to the bath tonight.

Cassian grinned. “Alright, no bath. But only if you tell me a secret first, Kaia.”

She leaned back in Azriel’s lap, her tiny face scrunched up in thought. “A secret?” she asked, sounding very serious for a two-year-old.

“Yes, a secret,” Cassian insisted. “Tell me something nobody else knows.”

Kaia looked around the room, her eyes narrowing as she thought harder. Then, after a long pause, she smiled brightly. “I cookies,” she whispered loudly, leaning in to make sure Cassian heard. “I no share cookie.”

Everyone laughed, even Rhysand shaking his head with a smile. “That’s a secret?” he teased.

Kaia nodded vigorously. “Big swecret!” she insisted, then looked up at Azriel with all the sweetness in the world. “Dada... no bath?”

Azriel kissed the top of her head. “No bath tonight, sweetheart. But you’ve gotta let me have a drink with the guys now, okay?”

Kaia looked at him seriously, her little brows furrowing. “I no want drink. I want you,” she said, her tone pleading.

Azriel’s heart softened. “I’m here,” he whispered. “Always.”

Kaia settled back into his arms, clearly satisfied. “Okay, Dada. You stay.”

Kaia, content and warm in Azriel’s arms, relaxed into him, her little body soft and pliable as she burrowed closer. Azriel’s wings adjusted slightly, folding around her like a protective cocoon as she curled up against his chest, her tiny hands clasping at the fabric of his tunic. Her hair—so dark and wild—spilled across his arm, and her breath came slow and steady as she began to doze off, her toddler body relaxing against the weight of his warmth.

The low murmur of conversation from the men around them filled the air, but Kaia wasn’t paying attention. Instead, her tiny fingers traced the markings on his arm absentmindedly, her face nuzzled into the crook of his neck. She was already half asleep, the soft and steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling her further.

Cassian was leaning back in his chair, hands folded behind his head, giving Azriel a teasing look. "You know, I thought Azriel was the quiet one," he said, glancing toward Rhysand with a raised brow. "But now we’ve got the next generation in here, and she’s already taking after her dad. Quiet as a shadow."

Azriel chuckled softly, a quiet sound that only made Kaia snuggle deeper into him. “She doesn’t stay quiet when she wants something,” he murmured, though his voice held the tenderness that came with his love for her.

Rhysand, ever the calm presence, took a slow sip of his drink. “She has a strong will,” he said thoughtfully. “Wonder where she got that from? You or my sister?” He shot a playful glance toward Azriel.

Azriel only gave him a quiet look of warning, his fingers running through Kaia’s soft hair as her breath deepened, little snores just beginning to escape her. He spoke in a low, affectionate tone. “She’s more than just willful. She’s clever. She knows how to get what she wants.”

Cassian grinned. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger already, doesn’t she?”

Azriel’s gaze softened as he looked down at her, his wings fluttering lightly in the quiet, the weight of her trust settling over him. “She knows exactly how to work her way around me.”

“She’s two,” Cassian teased. “Wait until she’s ten, and she’ll have you wrapped up in knots.”

“I’ll be ready,” Azriel said with a soft smile, though the idea of her growing up so quickly left a bittersweet taste in his mouth. He kissed her forehead gently, almost imperceptibly, as she murmured something unintelligible in her sleep.

The conversation drifted away from him as he allowed himself to enjoy this brief, peaceful moment with his daughter, the calm of the room enveloping them. But as the men continued to talk, there was a soft shuffle of footsteps, and Kaia’s small head jerked up from Azriel’s chest, her sleepy eyes blinking rapidly.

“Dada,” she whispered, her little voice thick with sleep. “Mama?”

Azriel stroked her hair gently, reassuring her. “It’s alright, sweetheart. Go back to sleep.”

But Kaia’s curiosity had already taken over. She sat up suddenly, rubbing her eyes as she looked around the room. "Mama? I hide!” she said with a gleam of mischief in her voice, suddenly more awake and alert. Her eyes darted across the room as if calculating the best place to hide from YN. Without warning, she hopped off Azriel’s lap, her tiny wings fluttering in excitement. She scampered to the couch and dove under the blanket with an exaggerated puff of air, pulling it over her head, only her little feet sticking out.

Azriel watched her with a fond, amused expression, shaking his head slightly. “Kaia, you can’t keep hiding from Mama,” he warned softly, though there was no real reprimand in his tone.

Kaia’s voice came from under the blanket, muffled but still clear. “Mama no find me,” she said with utter confidence. Her tiny legs wiggled, her feet kicking the blanket in her excitement. “I hide, Dada! I good at hide!”

Cassian and Rhysand both chuckled at the sight. Rhysand’s eyes twinkled as he looked over at Azriel. “Looks like she’s more like you than we thought. You used to hide from your problems too.”

Azriel gave him a pointed look. “I don’t hide.”

“Of course not,” Rhysand said smoothly, though there was an unmistakable smirk on his face. “Kaia certainly doesn’t.”

Kaia, apparently content with her decision to hide, made little giggling noises from beneath the blanket. Azriel’s wings unfolded slightly in amusement, and he reached for her, gently pulling back the blanket to find her face all scrunched up in concentration as she tried to remain hidden.

“I see you, little one,” Azriel said softly, and Kaia’s giggles broke free as she peeked out, eyes wide with a mix of delight and mischief.

“I’m good hide, Dada!” she announced, her tiny hands still clutching at the blanket.

Azriel smiled, brushing a lock of hair from her face as she crawled back onto his lap, snuggling against him once more. “You are, sweetheart. But no more hiding from Mama. She’s coming.”

Kaia frowned for a moment, but the promise of staying with her daddy seemed to cheer her up. “No Mama. No bath,” she muttered, her speech still jumbled but full of intent. “Hide more!”

Azriel chuckled, knowing full well that this little one would give her mama a run for her money.

The soft sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway before the door to Rhysand’s office creaked open, and you stepped inside. Immediately, your eyes flicked to the sight before you—Azriel, seated comfortably in one of the chairs, his dark wings enveloping his daughter, who was curled up in his lap, asleep but still warm from the lingering glow of her playful energy.

You smirked as you took in the scene. Cassian and Rhysand were deep in conversation, but both looked up at you the moment you entered, the tension of their talks easing into an unspoken amusement. They’d seen that look before—the one where you were hunting for something (or someone) you didn’t want to admit was far too skilled at evading capture.

“I’m searching for a runaway,” you said with a teasing lilt to your voice, crossing your arms. Your gaze fell onto the small figure tucked against Azriel’s chest, her hair a wild halo of dark curls, her little body completely at ease despite her escape attempt.

Azriel’s head tilted slightly as he met your eyes, and a soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He knew exactly what you were talking about.

“You mean Kaia, don’t you?” Rhysand’s voice was dry, but the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. “I’m sure she’s hiding from you because she knows exactly what’s coming.”

“I’m sure she’s just lost in thought,” Azriel replied, though the way he shifted Kaia gently in his arms suggested he was trying to keep her in her comfortable cocoon. “She was really adamant about not needing a bath.”

“Oh, she’s very good at that,” you said, walking further into the room. “I thought I’d check in with you guys, but it looks like you’ve got her well in hand.” You looked pointedly at Azriel, whose face had softened as he ran his fingers through Kaia’s hair.

Kaia shifted in Azriel’s lap, her eyes half-lidded, but she was still awake, and the moment she heard your voice, her little face scrunched up in exaggerated suspicion. She slowly lifted her head, her tiny wings fluttering behind her as she tried to blink the sleep from her eyes.

“No Mama!” Kaia protested, throwing her arms over her face as if it would somehow shield her from the inevitable. “Hide! I hide, no bath!”

You sighed dramatically, taking a step closer, feigning exasperation. “Kaia, sweetheart, don’t you want to be all nice and clean for the night? I was just coming to check on my two favourite people, but I see that one of them is being a little troublemaker.” You crouched down in front of her, smiling at her defiant little pout.

She peeked from beneath her arms, and her lip trembled, her voice barely a whisper. “No Mama. No bath. I hide. I hide from Mama, Dada.”

Azriel chuckled softly, his voice low and soothing. “She’s good at hiding, love. I’ve tried to tell her it’s not going to work.”

“Oh, I know it won’t work,” you said, reaching out to pull the blanket off her tiny form. “But it’s adorable to watch her try.”

Kaia giggled as the blanket was pulled away, exposing her to you. Her small hands shot up to her face again in an attempt to shield herself. “No, no, no bath! I hide. I good hide!”

“You are a very good hider, sweetheart.” You reached down to scoop her up gently, ignoring her protest. She squirmed a little but melted against you when she realized there was no escape. “But no more running. It’s time for a bath.”

Kaia, however, wasn’t about to give up so easily. “I no need bath,” she declared with a loud puff of air. “I already clean! I clean!”

Rhysand’s laugh echoed through the room. “I believe that’s a no, then.”

You shot him a quick, amused glance. “A very determined no, at that. I think she might be more stubborn than any of us.”

Azriel’s eyes softened as he gazed at Kaia, still nestled against you. “She gets that from her mother.”

“She might also get it from her father,” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you shifted Kaia onto your hip.

“Not that much,” Azriel protested, though the warmth in his voice made it clear he didn’t mind at all.

“I’ll let you both deal with her when she’s three,” you said, already walking toward the door with Kaia clinging to you like a tiny koala. “For now, she’s still in the stage where she’s cute enough to get away with anything.”

Cassian laughed. “Good luck with that, YN. I’ve had a lot of practice with troublemakers, but I’m pretty sure Kaia’s going to be next-level.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “I’m well aware, Cassian.”

Azriel’s eyes followed you as you walked out the door, Kaia’s arms wrapped tightly around you. “You sure you want to take her?”

You glanced back at him and smiled, a playful glint in your eyes. “She’s your daughter, Azriel. I think you’ve had your turn.”

Kaia let out a loud whine, her small hand tugging at your collar. “No bath!” she repeated, her toddler words still as adorably clear as ever. “I no bath, Mama!”

“I know, sweetheart. I know,” you said, kissing her forehead.

As you carried Kaia toward the door, her little protests still filling the air, you paused and turned back to the three men lounging in the office. Cassian was leaning so far back in his chair it looked like he might tip over, Rhysand was swirling his drink with all the leisure of a man who had nothing but time, and Azriel—well, Azriel was looking at you with that calm, unruffled expression, even though you knew he was just as guilty as the other two.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “You know, I have a theory,” you said, bouncing Kaia slightly as she rested her head against your shoulder.

“A theory, hmm?” Rhysand drawled, one brow arching as he took another slow sip of his drink. “Do enlighten us.”

You smirked. “It’s funny how every time Feyre, Nesta, and I are up to our necks with the kids—” you glanced at Azriel meaningfully, “—all of you somehow end up here. Drinking. Relaxing. Laughing like life is oh-so-easy.”

Cassian snorted, his grin widening as he set his drink down. “We’re strategizing,” he said, far too defensively to be believable. “Important things. Illyrian training. You know, for the next generation.”

“Right,” you said, shifting Kaia to your other hip. “Strategizing. Because obviously, the best way to deal with a horde of screaming children is to sit in Rhysand’s office with a glass of whiskey.”

“I think it’s working,” Rhysand chimed in smoothly, giving you a wink. “Look how relaxed we are.”

Kaia, as if on cue, perked up just enough to lift her head and point a chubby finger at Rhysand. “Rhysie no help!” she declared, her toddler voice loud and certain.

You grinned. “Exactly, Kaia. Rhysie no help.” You turned toward the door, raising your voice just enough to carry down the hallway. “Nesta! You’ve got to come see this. The boys are in here strategizing while we’re busy running after all the kids.”

A moment later, you heard footsteps approaching, quick and purposeful, and then Nesta appeared in the doorway, her sharp gaze sweeping over the room. “Let me guess,” she said, crossing her arms and tilting her head. “Drinking and lounging while we’re doing all the work?”

Cassian, who had the audacity to look pleased to see her, leaned back even further in his chair. “We’re taking a much-needed break, sweetheart. You know how exhausting strategizing can be.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Strategizing, huh? And what exactly have you been strategizing, Cassian?”

“Training,” Cassian replied smoothly. “The future. Our sons.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Of course. You’re strategizing, and we’re dealing with three boys who’ve decided that walls are optional for flying practice.”

Cassian sat up straighter, a smirk playing at his lips. “That sounds like good training to me.”

Nesta shot him a look that could have frozen the Sidra. “It’s destruction, Cassian.”

Kaia, catching onto the tension, buried her face against your shoulder, peeking out just enough to whisper, “Cassy in trouble?”

“Yes, Kaia,” you said, grinning. “Cassy’s in big trouble.”

Azriel, who had been quietly observing the exchange with an amused smile, finally spoke up. “To be fair,” he said softly, “the boys did ask for a break.”

“Of course they did,” you said, shaking your head. “Meanwhile, Feyre and I had to chase Nyx off the roof again, and Nesta’s youngest is trying to figure out how to set a trap for the twins.”

Rhysand chuckled, raising his glass toward Nesta. “To the mothers of the Inner Circle. The true warriors among us.”

Nesta raised a brow but didn’t take the bait. “You’re lucky we haven’t strung all of you up yet.”

Cassian leaned forward, grinning as he motioned toward the empty chair next to him. “Why don’t you join us, sweetheart? You deserve a break, too.”

Nesta sighed but finally walked over, claiming the chair with a regal grace. She glanced at you as you shifted Kaia again, who had started to drift off once more. “I’m not doing this alone, YN,” she said. “Feyre deserves to see this, too.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you replied, smirking as you moved toward the door. “I’m going to send her in next. Let’s see how long your little strategy session lasts once the rest of us are here.”

Azriel’s quiet laugh followed you out, and you heard Cassian groan, “She’s bluffing, right?”

Rhysand’s amused voice was the last thing you heard before you turned the corner. “You know better than that, Cassian.”

You didn’t make it far before you paused, a smirk creeping across your face. “You know what? Feyre does need to see this now.” Adjusting Kaia on your hip, you turned back toward the hallway and called out, “Feyre! You might want to come take a look at this.”

The sound of footsteps echoed moments later, and Feyre appeared, her hair slightly mussed, her expression one of mild exasperation. “What is it now? Did Nyx try to jump off something again?”

“Not this time,” you said, gesturing toward the office. “But you’ll want to see what our fearless mates and brothers are up to while we’re busy chasing after their children.”

Feyre raised a brow and stepped into the room, her gaze sweeping over the scene—the three men lounging in comfort, glasses of whiskey in hand, all looking far too pleased with themselves.

“Well, well,” Feyre said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. “What do we have here? A secret meeting?”

Rhysand’s lips curved into a slow smile as he gestured to the empty seat next to him. “Join us, darling. We were just discussing the intricacies of basic Illyrian training.”

Feyre scoffed, striding further into the room. “Basic Illyrian training, hmm? Is that what you call this little boys’ club?”

“I think it’s cute,” you chimed in, bouncing Kaia slightly as she started to squirm. “They’re pretending they’re doing something important while we’re out there making sure their children don’t destroy Velaris.”

Nesta, still seated beside Cassian, smirked and gestured toward Feyre. “Take a seat. I’m sure they’ll explain how their ‘strategizing’ is critical to the survival of the Night Court.”

Feyre shook her head, but there was amusement in her eyes as she looked at Rhysand. “You know, Rhys, I’m starting to think we deserve a break.”

“A break?” Rhysand echoed, tilting his head. “From what, darling? Surely you’re not suggesting life with our children is anything less than a joy.”

You snorted. “Oh, it’s a joy, alright. Especially when Nyx decides to start a game of tag on the roof, or Cassian’s boys decide to see if they can break through a wall with their wings.”

“They’re learning structural integrity,” Cassian said defensively, though his grin betrayed him.

“And how exactly is that helping us?” Nesta asked, her tone sharp as she fixed him with a glare. “Do you know how many walls we’ve had to repair this month?”

Azriel stayed quiet, his hand lightly rubbing Kaia’s back as she snuggled against him, but his lips twitched in amusement.

Feyre stepped closer to Rhysand, placing her hands on the back of his chair. “You know, I think we deserve a week off. No kids. Just us. Let’s see how well you three manage without us.”

Rhysand arched a brow, his voice smooth as silk. “A week off? Are you implying we can’t handle our own children?”

“I don’t know,” you said, shifting Kaia again as she started to doze off. “Can you handle Kaia’s nightly escape attempts? Or Nyx’s tendency to challenge gravity at every opportunity?”

Nesta smirked. “What about when the twins decide they’re inventing a new game that requires smashing furniture?”

Cassian leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Please. We’ve handled far worse.”

“Oh, really?” Feyre asked, her tone dripping with challenge. “Then let’s make it official. One week. No help. No Feyre, no YN, no Nesta. Just the three of you and all the kids.”

Rhysand leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he gave her a slow, considering smile. “And what would the three of you be doing during this week of freedom?”

“Anything we want,” you replied immediately, grinning. “No schedules. No messes to clean. No nightly tantrums.”

Nesta’s voice was firm. “And no repairing walls.”

Azriel glanced down at Kaia, his gaze softening. “You’d really leave us alone for a week?”

“Yes,” you said, though your heart warmed at the way he was glancing at your daughter. “And you’d survive. Maybe.”

Cassian grinned, leaning toward Azriel and Rhysand. “Come on, boys. How hard could it be?”

Rhysand’s gaze flicked toward Feyre, full of mischief. “Challenge accepted.”

Feyre smirked. “You’ll regret that by the end of the first day.”

You laughed, Kaia stirring slightly as you kissed the top of her head. “We’ll pack our bags tonight. Good luck, gentlemen. You’re going to need it.”

You grinned, shifting Kaia onto your hip as you leaned against the doorframe. “You know, Feyre, Nesta, and I could always go to the Day Court for the week. Helion would love to take us in. No kids, plenty of sunshine, and a lot less chaos.”

Cassian sat up straight, feigning offense. “The Day Court? You’d betray us like that?”

“Oh, it’s not betrayal,” Nesta said with a smirk, tapping her fingers on the armrest of her chair. “It’s survival. And besides, Helion has excellent taste. He knows how to treat his guests.”

Rhysand arched a brow at Feyre, his expression amused. “You’d run off to Helion? Really, darling? Aren’t I enough?”

Feyre tilted her head, pretending to consider. “Well, Helion does throw very good parties. And he doesn’t make me chase a child off the roof.”

Before Rhysand could respond, a loud, familiar voice interrupted.

“NO!”

Nyx came barreling into the room, his curls bouncing as he skidded to a stop in front of you. His eyes were wide with panic, and his wings flared slightly behind him as he planted himself firmly in your path.

“You can’t leave them in charge!” Nyx declared, pointing dramatically at his father, Cassian, and Azriel. “Not again! They’ll ruin everything!”

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his expression equal parts amused and offended. “Excuse me, young man. What exactly are you accusing us of?”

Nyx turned on him, his hands on his hips. “The last time you were in charge, Uncle Cassian said I could ‘fly like an Illyrian,’ and then—” He flapped his arms wildly for emphasis. “And then I broke my arm!”

Cassian burst out laughing, clapping a hand on his chest. “That was a learning experience, Nyx. Every Illyrian has to learn how to fall at some point.”

“I didn’t fall!” Nyx shouted, glaring at him. “You threw me!”

“I did not throw you!” Cassian protested, though his grin was far too wide to be convincing.

Nyx crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. “You threw me, and then you told Mama it was an accident. I’m still not allowed to go anywhere with you by myself!”

Feyre pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering under her breath about reckless behavior and bad influences. “He’s not wrong, Cassian. You did throw him.”

“I helped him fly,” Cassian corrected, raising his hands defensively.

Nyx turned to you, his expression pleading. “You can’t leave us with them! Uncle Azriel doesn’t even let me hold his knives, and Dad just makes me sit and listen to boring stories about being High Lord.”

Azriel chuckled quietly from his seat, his hand still resting protectively on Kaia’s back as she began to doze. “I’m not letting you hold my knives, Nyx. You’re thirteen, not thirty.”

Nyx huffed, his wings twitching in frustration. “I can fight! I’m strong!”

“You’re also grounded,” Feyre said firmly, cutting off whatever argument he was about to make. “And if you’re trying to talk us out of going to the Day Court, it’s not working.”

Nyx’s eyes widened as he looked between you, Feyre, and Nesta. “You’re really going to leave me with them? Mama, you can’t!”

Rhysand smirked, leaning forward to ruffle Nyx’s hair. “Don’t worry, son. We’ll take excellent care of you.”

“That’s what you said last time,” Nyx muttered darkly, stepping away and turning toward the door. “I’m telling Aunt Amren. She’ll stop you.”

Nesta snorted, shaking her head. “Amren’s the one who suggested this in the first place. She said we’ve ‘earned’ it.”

You grinned, watching as Nyx stormed off, muttering under his breath about unfair treatment and irresponsible adults. Turning back to the three men, you tilted your head. “Well, there you have it. Even your own son doesn’t trust you to handle this.”

Rhysand sighed dramatically, lifting his drink. “Clearly, I’ve raised a traitor.”

Cassian laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “It’ll be fine, Rhys. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Azriel didn’t say a word, but the slight twitch of his wings and the quiet laugh that escaped him said everything.

You smiled sweetly, adjusting Kaia on your hip. “Let me know how that attitude works out for you when we’re gone. We’ll be sure to send Helion your love.”

Feyre and Nesta smirked in unison as you all turned to leave, already planning the week of freedom ahead.

-----

The house was quiet, the kind of stillness that only came after all the children had finally settled into sleep. Kaia had been tucked into her bed hours ago, her tiny wings carefully draped over her blanket as she drifted off without a care in the world. The boys had stayed up later than usual, their laughter echoing through the halls until Azriel finally sent them off to their rooms with firm but gentle reminders about the chaos they’d already caused today.

Now, it was just you.

You stood in the bedroom, a soft glow from the bedside lamp illuminating the suitcase open on the bed. You were methodically folding clothes—light dresses, comfortable shoes, and a few things Feyre and Nesta had sworn were “perfect for the Day Court.” A small smile tugged at your lips as you thought about the week ahead. The idea of a break, of sunshine and relaxation with no children demanding your attention, felt like a dream.

The door creaked open behind you, and you didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

“Still packing?” Azriel’s voice was soft, laced with that calm, steady warmth you adored.

You glanced over your shoulder, catching sight of him leaning against the doorframe. His hair was slightly tousled, his shoulders relaxed now that the day’s chaos had come to an end. His gaze swept over the room, lingering on the suitcase before meeting your eyes.

“You know,” he said, pushing off the doorframe and walking toward you, “I could still talk you out of this.”

You smirked, turning back to the suitcase as you folded another dress. “Oh, you could, could you?”

He came to stand beside you, his wings rustling slightly as he leaned against the bedpost. “Absolutely,” he said, his tone low and teasing. “Just say the word, and I’ll convince Feyre and Nesta that this trip isn’t necessary.”

You raised a brow, glancing up at him with a playful smile. “And how exactly would you do that? Bribery? Threats? Or are you planning to charm us into staying?”

Azriel’s lips twitched, his hazel eyes shining with amusement. “I was thinking charm, actually. It usually works on you.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you placed another item in the suitcase. “Not this time, Shadowsinger. I’m going, and there’s nothing you can say to change my mind.”

He watched you for a moment, his expression softening. “You deserve it,” he said quietly. “All of you do. But… Kaia’s going to miss you.”

You paused, your hands stilling on the edge of the suitcase. “Kaia’s going to miss me?” You looked at him, raising a skeptical brow. “She spent the entire day glued to your side, Az. If anything, she’s going to forget I exist.”

Azriel chuckled, his wings shifting as he straightened. “She loves her mama. Even if she’s too stubborn to admit it sometimes.”

You smiled, your heart warming at the thought of your daughter. “She gets that from you, you know.”

He stepped closer, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. His fingers lingered, his touch gentle as he studied you. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” you said, your voice softer now. “She’s lucky to have you.”

Azriel’s gaze held yours, his hand dropping to rest on your waist. “We’re both lucky to have you.”

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the weight of the day melting away. His hand was warm against your side, grounding you in a way only he could.

“You’re really okay with this?” you asked quietly, your fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt. “Me leaving for a whole week?”

He smiled, a rare, genuine thing that made your heart flutter. “I’ll miss you,” he admitted, his thumb tracing small circles against your hip. “But I’ll survive. And so will Kaia. Somehow.”

You laughed softly, leaning into him as his wings folded slightly around you. “I don’t know who I should be more worried about—her or you.”

“Definitely me,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But I’ll try to manage without you.”

You tilted your head up, meeting his gaze. “You’ll do more than manage. You’ll be amazing. You always are.”

Azriel leaned down, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that was both comforting and full of promise. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice a low murmur.

“Don’t worry about us. Just enjoy yourself, YN.”

“I will,” you promised, your heart swelling with love for the man before you.

As the silence stretched between you, Azriel’s gaze flickered to your lips, a familiar glint of mischief lighting his hazel eyes. His hand on your waist tightened slightly, pulling you just a fraction closer.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, velvety tone that always sent a shiver down your spine, “we still have some time before you leave.”

Your lips curved into a teasing smile as you tilted your head. “And what exactly are you suggesting, Shadowsinger?”

Azriel’s wings flared slightly, brushing against the edges of the room as he leaned in. His lips ghosted over yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath, but he didn’t close the distance. Not yet.

“I’m suggesting,” he said, his voice a soft rumble, “that maybe you should stay here and let me remind you of all the reasons you shouldn’t go.”

Your breath hitched as his free hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheekbone. He dipped his head, his lips barely grazing your jaw as he whispered, “Starting with how much I’ve missed having you to myself.”

“Az,” you said softly, trying to keep your tone steady even as heat pooled in your chest. “You’re not playing fair.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm as his lips trailed along the curve of your neck. “I never said I would.”

Your hands found their way to his chest, the fabric of his shirt bunching under your fingers as you tried to catch your breath. “You’re not going to win, you know. I’m still going.”

His lips paused against your skin, and you felt the smirk that formed there. “Oh, I don’t need to win. I just need to make sure you remember me while you’re gone.”

Your laugh was breathless, and you tipped your head back, giving him better access as his kisses turned more insistent. “As if I could forget you.”

Azriel hummed, his wings curling slightly around you as his hands slid to your hips, holding you firmly in place. “Good,” he murmured, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, full of the kind of intensity that made your knees weak.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “One more thing,” he said, his voice rough with affection.

“What’s that?” you asked, your voice just as soft.

His lips curved into a smirk as his thumb brushed against your lower lip. “Make sure Helion knows you’re mine.”

You laughed, the sound light and full of warmth as you leaned into him. “I think he already knows, Az.”

“Good,” he said again, his tone playful yet possessive as he kissed you once more, this time with no intention of letting you go anytime soon.

Azriel didn’t let you pull away—not that you wanted to. His lips moved against yours with that perfect blend of softness and urgency, his hands anchoring you firmly in place as though daring you to remember anything but him.

The suitcase on the bed was all but forgotten as he coaxed a sigh from you, his mouth tilting into a knowing smirk at your reaction.

“Az,” you murmured against his lips, your voice half-scolding, half-breathless.

“Hm?” he hummed, his tone utterly unrepentant as he kissed the corner of your mouth, then trailed down your jaw.

“You’re distracting me,” you managed, though your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt betrayed just how little you minded.

“Good,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and rough in a way that made your pulse flutter. “You’ve been so focused on everyone else, shadow,”—his favorite term of endearment for you, spoken so softly it made your heart ache—“it’s time someone focused on you.”

Your heart squeezed at the tenderness in his words, even as his teasing lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“You know,” you said, your breath hitching when his teeth grazed your skin, “if you keep this up, Feyre and Nesta are going to show up in the morning, and I’m not going to be ready.”

Azriel chuckled, the sound low and sinful as he lifted his head to meet your gaze. “You don’t need to pack for the Day Court. You could stay here. I’ll make it worth your while.”

You arched a brow, pretending to consider it even as you traced slow circles on his chest. “And what exactly would you do to make it worth my while?”

His hazel eyes darkened, and the corners of his mouth twitched as though he were holding back a full grin. “I’d start,” he said, his voice a silken promise, “by reminding you how much I love you. And then…” His wings flared slightly, his fingers tightening on your hips as he leaned in again.

“And then?” you pressed, your voice soft, unable to stop yourself from smiling at the way his gaze lingered on your lips.

“And then,” he murmured, his forehead brushing against yours, “I’d spend the whole week making sure you never want to leave my side again.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, though it was breathless and tinged with heat. “Azriel,” you said, shaking your head even as your hands slid up to wrap around his neck, “you are completely incorrigible.”

“I’m your incorrigible husband,” he said, his lips curving as he kissed you again, slow and deep, until all thoughts of the Day Court faded into nothingness.

When you finally pulled away, your breathing uneven and your cheeks flushed, Azriel’s hands stayed firm on your waist, holding you close. His hazel eyes sparkled with satisfaction, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, shaking your head as you tried to regain your composure.

“And you love me for it,” he teased, leaning down to brush another soft kiss to your temple.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “Unfortunately for me.”

Azriel chuckled, his wings shifting as he stepped back just enough to give you space. “I’ll leave you to finish packing—if you insist on going, that is.”

“If I insist?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

His smirk deepened, and he lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Go to the Day Court. But don’t be surprised if I show up halfway through the week to bring you home.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you turned back to the suitcase on the bed. “Kaia would never forgive you if you left her for that long.”

“She might forgive me if I brought her to you,” he countered, his voice softening at the thought of your daughter.

“She’d love it,” you admitted, glancing over your shoulder at him. “But I think you can handle a week without me. Besides, Helion’s already promised Feyre, Nesta, and me the royal treatment.”

Azriel’s wings twitched, a subtle flicker of something possessive crossing his face before he hid it behind a playful smile. “You’ll be back before you know it.”

“Miss me already?” you teased, folding the last of your clothes and placing them in the suitcase.

“Always,” he said simply, and the sincerity in his voice made your heart stutter.

You paused, turning fully to face him. For a moment, you just looked at him—the man who had been your partner in everything, who had stood by your side through chaos and calm, who adored you and your daughter more than anything in the world.

Stepping closer, you reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw. “I love you,” you said softly, the words carrying all the weight of your feelings.

Azriel leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly. “And I love you.”

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, the quiet of the night wrapping around you like a cocoon. Then, with a final lingering kiss, Azriel stepped back, his hands falling to his sides.

“I’ll check on Kaia before I head to bed,” he said, his voice low.

You nodded, your heart swelling as you watched him leave the room, his shadows trailing after him.

And as you turned back to the suitcase, you couldn’t help but smile, already counting down the days until you’d be back in his arms again.

-----

The morning light filtered gently through the curtains, bathing the room in soft, golden hues. You stirred slowly, the warmth of Azriel’s arms wrapped securely around you, his chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breathing. For a moment, you just lay there, savoring the feeling of being tucked against him, his wings sprawled protectively around your form.

His face was relaxed in sleep, the lines of tension from the previous days gone, and you couldn’t help but smile softly at the way he looked—vulnerable and at peace. You pressed your face against his chest, breathing in the scent of him, a mix of sandalwood and something distinctly Azriel—earthy, comforting, and home.

But as much as you wanted to stay there forever, the thought of the day ahead pulled you from the warmth of his embrace. You sighed quietly, trying not to disturb him as you shifted slightly, careful not to wake him. The soft rustle of the blankets seemed to stir Azriel’s senses, and you felt him shift behind you, pulling you closer as though trying to keep you there.

“Five more minutes,” he murmured against the back of your neck, his voice thick with sleep.

You chuckled softly, turning your head to plant a kiss on his jaw. “You know I have to go, right?”

Azriel groaned, his arms tightening around you. “I know,” he mumbled, but there was a hint of reluctance in his tone. “But I can’t let you leave yet.”

You laughed, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll be back soon. Besides, Feyre and Nesta will never let us hear the end of it if we’re late.”

“Mm, they’re already too excited to get away,” he muttered, nuzzling against your neck with a final sigh of contentment. But after a moment, he released you, the warmth of his body leaving a cold spot on the bed.

Reluctantly, you slid out of bed, the cool air of the room instantly making you miss the heat of his touch. You moved to the closet, pulling out your outfit for the day, but as you dressed, you could feel Azriel’s eyes on you, his presence heavy and comforting.

Once you were dressed, you turned back to the bed. Azriel had propped himself up on his elbow, his gaze fixed on you with that dark, intense look he always wore when he was lost in thought.

“You’re really going to leave me?” he asked, his voice soft but with an undercurrent of affection.

You smiled, walking over to him and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I have to. I’ll miss you, too, though.”

He nodded, and for a moment, you stood there together, soaking in the last few moments before the day began in full force.

After a final kiss, you left the bedroom, stepping out into the hall. The house was already stirring, and as you walked toward the stairs, you heard the sound of voices below. When you reached the kitchen, you found the familiar sight of Cassian, Rhysand, and your little Kaia sitting at the table.

Kaia’s tiny feet dangled from the chair as she babbled happily, her wide, bright eyes sparkling up at Rhysand, who was teasing her with a piece of fruit. Cassian sat beside her, his boisterous laugh filling the room as he ruffled her hair. His sons were still nowhere to be seen, probably still asleep, which seemed to be a rare luxury in the chaos of their usual routine.

“Well, well,” you said, leaning against the doorframe with a smile. “Look who’s in charge of the kids this morning.”

Cassian looked up, grinning ear to ear. “Someone has to keep an eye on them while you take your luxurious break.”

Rhysand glanced up from where he was sitting next to Kaia, a teasing glint in his eye. “You’re welcome. Though, I don’t know why you’re so eager to leave us. Kaia seems pretty happy here.”

Kaia giggled, reaching up to grab at Rhysand’s hair, tugging on it with all the strength her tiny hands could muster. “Rhysie!” she said, her voice lisping around the word as she giggled.

You shook your head with a small laugh. “She really is a handful, isn’t she?”

“She’s a delight,” Rhysand said, his tone dry as he pulled his hair out of her grasp. “I’m just glad I’m not the one who has to deal with her tantrums.”

Cassian threw his head back with a laugh. “I can’t wait to hear what happens when it’s Azriel's turn to watch her this week.”

Before you could respond, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching from behind, and you turned to find Feyre and Nesta walking into the kitchen, both already fully prepared for the trip.

“We’re ready to go,” Feyre announced with a grin, her bags slung over her shoulder.

“You two really can’t wait, can you?” you teased.

Nesta crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “We deserve this, YN. Don’t try to ruin our excitement.”

Feyre grinned. “I’ll second that. I think it’s about time we leave the chaos behind for a bit.”

You laughed, crossing the room to grab a cup of tea before setting your gaze on Rhysand and Cassian, who were now clearly in full babysitting mode.

“If any of them come back with bruises or broken limbs, I’m blaming you three,” you said, teasing.

Cassian held up his hands in mock defence. “We’ll be just fine. I promise, Kaia’s in good hands.”

“Besides,” Rhysand added, “you’ll be back before you know it.”

As the four of you gathered your things, laughter and light-hearted banter filled the air. But in the back of your mind, you knew Azriel would be there to handle everything while you were away. You just hoped the boys wouldn’t get too out of hand.

-----

The moment the last of the girls left, a tense silence descended over the room, hanging thick in the air. Cassian, Rhysand, and Azriel stood there for a moment, exchanging glances as they mentally prepared themselves for what was about to unfold. They’d been through this before, but that didn’t make it any less challenging.

Azriel shifted on his feet, his wings barely brushing against the table. “Are we sure we can handle all of them?” he asked, though it wasn’t a question of doubt—more like a quiet observation.

Cassian grinned, clearly relishing the chaos. “Of course, we can. How hard can it be? It’s just kids, after all,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. He shot a glance at Rhysand. “And don’t you dare try to say it’s ‘too much,’ Rhys. You’ve survived worse.”

Rhysand sighed but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “True. But we’ve never had this many all at once.”

The sound of little feet padding into the room interrupted the conversation, and soon the three boys—Torran, Emrus, and Calen—came stumbling in, their messy hair and sleep-rumpled faces betraying that they had just woken up. Their eyes were still half-lidded as they slowly blinked at the scene before them: three fully-grown men standing in a kitchen, attempting to look responsible.

“Dad?” Torran rubbed his eyes sleepily, looking at Cassian. “What’s for breakfast?”

Emrus yawned loudly, his hand rubbing his face. “I’m hungry,” he mumbled, barely opening his eyes as he looked at Rhysand, trying to look as cute as possible to get out of a scolding.

Calen, who was the youngest of the three, immediately latched onto his father’s leg, hiding behind it and peering up at the three men. “Daddy,” he said quietly, a bit unsure of the situation. “Where’s Mom?”

Cassian ruffled his hair affectionately. “She’s off on a much-needed vacation, remember? It’s just us today. And don’t worry, we’ll take care of you.”

Azriel gave a small, half-amused smile, glancing toward Rhysand and Cassian. “This is going to be fun,” he muttered under his breath.

The sound of more footsteps followed soon after, as Nyx walked in, still looking half-asleep but clearly already aware of the shift in the atmosphere. His eyes immediately flickered from Azriel to the boys, and then he gave a soft sigh, knowing exactly what his father was about to ask him to do.

“Dad, I’m not babysitting them,” Nyx grumbled, clearly tired of the routine.

Azriel raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Rhysand. “You’re not. You’re the oldest; it’s your job to make sure they don’t set the house on fire.”

Rhysand snorted, shooting Azriel a knowing look. “He’s right, Nyx. Just keep an eye on them for now. You’re the only one who can make sure Cassian doesn’t let them eat their weight in pastries before noon.”

Cassian threw his hands up in mock offense. “I don’t always spoil them,” he said dramatically. “But I do know what the kids like.”

Nyx rolled his eyes but nodded, knowing he was essentially outnumbered. He moved to sit at the table and begin slouching in the chair, obviously dreading the next few hours.

Just then, Kaia—Azriel’s little two-year-old—wobbled around room, her hair a wild mess of dark curls, her wide, curious eyes scanning the scene before her. She let out a cheerful giggle when she saw her dad and immediately ran toward him.

“Dada!” Kaia called, her baby voice high-pitched and full of excitement as she tried to climb onto his lap.

Azriel’s face softened as he scooped her up, settling her on his knee. “Hey, little one,” he said, his voice tender as he brushed a stray curl from her face. “What are you up to?”

“I want pannycake!” she declared loudly, bouncing on his lap as if that would make her demand more convincing.

“Of course you do,” Azriel said, half-amused and half-resigned. “We’ll see what we can do.”

Rhysand, with a resigned sigh, stepped over to the counter and grabbed the breakfast supplies. “Looks like it’s up to us to feed the masses today,” he muttered. “Anyone want to help?”

Cassian clapped his hands together, standing up with a grin. “You bet. Let’s make this an event.”

Torran, Emrus, and Calen started to gather around the counter, already too excited by the idea of food to care about their previous grumpy moods. Kaia, now securely in Azriel’s arms, pointed enthusiastically at the pancakes and asked, “Can I have bwuebewwies?”

“You can have whatever you want,” Azriel replied with a smile, brushing a kiss to the top of her head. He could already see that he was going to be wrapped around her little finger for the foreseeable future.

As the group settled into their roles, Rhysand began heating up the pan, Cassian retrieved various ingredients with unnecessary enthusiasm, and Nyx slouched in his seat, trying to act like he wasn’t already mentally preparing himself for the chaos ahead.

“Should we make this a competition?” Cassian asked, his tone light as he bounced between tasks. “See who can get the kids fed and settled fastest?”

Azriel rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at his lips. “You’re insane. But I’m in.”

Nyx groaned. “I’m too old for this.”

Cassian barely had time to react before Torran, Emrus, and Calen launched themselves at him, a unified flurry of arms, legs, and battle cries.

“Attack!” Torran shouted, his voice ringing with the authority of the eldest as he tackled Cassian around the middle.

Emrus scrambled to climb onto his father’s back, giggling uncontrollably. “We’ve got you now, Dad!”

Calen, not wanting to be left out, latched onto Cassian’s leg, his little hands gripping tightly as he added his own gleeful shout to the chaos.

Cassian staggered under the weight of all three boys, laughing as he tried to fend them off. “You think you can take me down?” he bellowed dramatically, his voice booming through the kitchen. “I’m a General! You’ll never defeat me!”

“You’re outnumbered, Dad!” Torran crowed, attempting to wrestle Cassian to the ground.

Azriel leaned casually against the counter, Kaia still perched on his hip, her little hands gripping his tunic as she watched the spectacle unfold with wide eyes. “Should we help him, sweetheart?” Azriel asked, his tone amused.

Kaia tilted her head, considering it for a moment before shaking her head firmly. “Nope. Cassy too loud,” she declared, her baby voice cutting through the noise.

Rhysand snorted from his spot near the stove, where he was flipping pancakes. “Looks like you’re on your own, Cassian.”

Cassian shot Rhysand an exaggerated glare. “Some High Lord you are, Rhys. Aren’t you supposed to lead by example?”

“I am,” Rhysand said smoothly, gesturing to the pancakes with a flourish. “I’m feeding your troops. It’s called strategy.”

As Cassian’s boys continued their assault, Nyx, who had been watching with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, got up from his chair and walked over to Kaia. He crouched down so he was at her eye level, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey, Kaia,” he said gently, reaching out to brush a stray curl from her face. “You wanna get out of here before things get even crazier?”

Kaia blinked at him, her tiny hand clutching Azriel’s sleeve as she considered his offer. “We go?” she asked, her voice curious.

“Somewhere quiet,” Nyx replied, standing up and holding out his hand to her. “Trust me, this week is going to be a mess. We’ve got to stick together, okay?”

Kaia looked up at Azriel, her big dark eyes questioning. Azriel chuckled softly, setting her down on the floor. “Go on, sweetheart,” he said. “Nyx will take care of you.”

Kaia slipped her tiny hand into Nyx’s, her trust in him absolute. Nyx gave her a reassuring smile before glancing back at the adults. “Good luck,” he said dryly, his tone making it clear he didn’t envy them one bit.

With that, Nyx led Kaia out of the kitchen, leaving the three grown men to handle the chaos that was quickly escalating behind them. Rhysand sighed, flipping another pancake onto the growing stack. “You know,” he said, addressing no one in particular, “this might actually kill us.”

Azriel smirked, his calm exterior never faltering. “Speak for yourself.”

Cassian, now pinned to the floor by his three sons, looked up with a mock glare. “You two are terrible friends.”

“Friends who are making breakfast,” Rhysand corrected, raising his spatula in a mock toast.

Cassian groaned, though his grin never wavered, and the sound of laughter filled the kitchen once more.

Cassian finally managed to wrestle himself free from his sons, standing up and dusting off his tunic with a grin. “You know,” he said, leaning casually against the counter, “maybe we should take this whole circus to the cabin.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, flipping the last pancake onto the growing stack. “The cabin? With all the kids?”

“Why not?” Cassian shrugged, his grin widening. “The boys have their Illyrian training this week anyway. They’ll burn off all their energy in the mountains, and we’ll have some breathing room to relax.”

Azriel, who had been silently wiping syrup off his hands after Kaia’s sticky breakfast adventure, froze. His sharp gaze snapped to Cassian, his wings shifting slightly as tension settled over him.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Azriel said quietly, his voice calm but firm.

Cassian frowned. “Why not? It’ll be good for the kids, and you know the mountains are perfect for—”

“For the boys, maybe,” Azriel interrupted, his tone measured but with an edge of protectiveness. “But Kaia’s too little. She can barely lift off the ground, and the air pressure in the mountains is different. It’s hard even for fully grown Illyrians.”

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his violet eyes thoughtful. “It’s not just the air pressure, is it?”

Azriel glanced at him, his expression unreadable, but they all knew him too well.

“The Illyrians…” Azriel finally admitted, his voice quieter now. “They don’t take kindly to females with wings. Kaia’s just a baby. I won’t let her be exposed to that kind of... prejudice.”

Cassian straightened, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced with seriousness. “Az, no one’s going to say a damn thing to Kaia. And if they do, they’ll answer to me. Or Rhys. Or, hell, even the boys. You know we won’t let anything happen to her.”

Rhysand nodded in agreement. “And as for the air pressure, we’ll adjust. We won’t push her to fly or do anything strenuous. She’s your daughter, Azriel. She has all of us to protect her.”

Azriel’s wings shifted again, the tension in his shoulders still visible. “It’s not just about protection,” he murmured, looking down at his hands. “I don’t want her to feel... less. Or different.”

Cassian clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, his grip firm. “She’s not less, and she’s not different. She’s Kaia, and she’s incredible. Those winged bastards at the camps don’t get a say in that. You’re her father. She’s got you—and us. That’s all she needs.”

Rhysand smiled softly, leaning forward. “She’s going to grow up knowing she’s loved and cherished. And when the time comes, if she has to face the world, she’ll do it with her head held high because she’ll know she has us behind her. Always.”

Azriel exhaled slowly, the tension in his body easing slightly at their reassurances. He glanced toward the doorway where Kaia had toddled off with Nyx. “She means everything to me,” he said softly.

“We know,” Rhysand said. “And that’s why we’ll all make sure she’s safe. You’re not doing this alone, Az.”

Before Azriel could respond, the sound of loud footsteps filled the air, followed by a cacophony of laughter. Torran, Emrus, and Calen came barreling through the room, yelling as they bolted toward the doorway.

“Nyx! Wait for us!” Torran called, his voice filled with excitement.

“We want to play too!” Emrus added, his little feet pounding against the floor.

Calen, the smallest, brought up the rear, his face lit up with pure joy. “Kaia! Come back!” he yelled, his high-pitched voice echoing as they all disappeared around the corner.

Cassian shook his head, a mixture of amusement and exasperation on his face. “There they go,” he muttered.

Rhysand smirked, pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee. “They’re your sons, Cassian. You only have your lack of self-control to blame.”

Azriel chuckled softly, his eyes lingering on the doorway where his daughter had disappeared. Despite his concerns, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “They’re going to wear Nyx out,” he said, the hint of amusement clear in his tone.

Cassian grinned. “Good. That’ll make things easier for all of us.”

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his gaze settling on Azriel. “So, what do you say, brother? The cabin for a few days? We’ll make it work—for everyone.”

Azriel hesitated for only a moment longer before nodding slowly. “Fine. But if anything happens to Kaia—”

“Nothing will,” Cassian interrupted, clapping him on the back. “You have my word.”

Azriel’s lips quirked upward in a small smile. “You better keep it.”

Cassian’s grin stretched ear to ear, his hazel eyes lighting up like a child who had just been handed his favorite toy. He slapped his hands together, the sound echoing through the kitchen.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, his voice booming with excitement. “The cabin! This is going to be amazing!”

Azriel raised an eyebrow at him, his expression unimpressed. “Amazing? You do realize this isn’t a vacation, right? We’re bringing five kids under thirteen with us, including my toddler.”

Cassian waved a dismissive hand, already pacing the kitchen like he was planning a military campaign. “Details, Az. Minor details. This is going to be an adventure! Fresh air, wide-open skies, and the boys can run wild while we sit back, relax, and maybe get some peace and quiet—”

“Cass,” Rhysand interrupted dryly, leaning back in his chair. “You’re describing a fantasy. Peace and quiet? With your sons in the mix? I’d say the odds are slim to none.”

Cassian pointed at him, undeterred. “First of all, my boys are angels—”

“Absolute terrors,” Azriel interjected, his tone flat.

Cassian ignored him. “—and second, they’ll be too busy with training to cause chaos. I’ll get them out there running drills first thing every morning. They’ll be so exhausted they won’t have the energy to do anything but sleep.”

“Drills?” Rhysand repeated with a smirk. “You’re taking them to the cabin, not a war camp.”

“It’s a lifestyle, Rhys,” Cassian said, puffing out his chest like he was imparting sage wisdom. “Besides, you’ll thank me when they’re passed out by sundown and we’re sitting by the fire with a drink in hand.”

Azriel crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter. “And what about Kaia? She’s not exactly going to be running drills, Cassian.”

Cassian’s grin softened, a rare moment of genuine warmth flashing across his face. “Kaia’s going to love it. I’ll make sure she’s safe, Az. I promise. We’ll take her flying close to the cabin where the air’s gentler, show her the river, and teach her how to throw rocks into the water. Trust me, she’s going to have the time of her life.”

Azriel’s expression softened at the mention of Kaia, though he still looked sceptical. “She’s two, Cassian. Her idea of ‘time of her life’ is eating blueberries and hiding under blankets.”

“Exactly!” Cassian said, throwing his arms wide. “And the cabin is perfect for that! We’ll build her a blanket fort by the fire. She’ll never want to leave!”

Rhysand chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re really leaning into this, aren’t you?”

Cassian crossed his arms, his grin turning cocky. “Of course I am. I’m going to make this the best trip ever. Just wait—you’ll be thanking me by the end of it.”

Azriel sighed, though a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “You’re mad, you know that?”

Cassian clapped him on the back, his grin unwavering. “And yet, you love me for it.”

Rhysand shook his head, lifting his coffee mug in a mock toast. “Here’s to surviving whatever Cassian’s version of ‘the best trip ever’ turns out to be.”

Cassian laughed, already mentally packing for the adventure. “Oh, you’ll survive,” he said confidently. “You might even enjoy yourselves. Trust me, boys—this is going to be legendary.”

Azriel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he straightened up. Cassian’s enthusiasm for the cabin trip was infectious, but the thought of Kaia being away from home in unfamiliar terrain still had him a little on edge.

“I’ll go find Kaia,” Azriel said, pushing off the counter. His shadows stirred, curling lazily around his shoulders as if they were ready to help in the search. “Nyx probably dragged her off somewhere to keep her entertained.”

Cassian smirked. “That kid’s already got more sense than you give him credit for. Kaia’s in good hands.”

Azriel shot him a look that said, That doesn’t mean I’m not checking. Without another word, he strode out of the kitchen, his sharp hearing picking up faint giggles echoing down the hall.

As he walked through the house, he let his shadows fan out, whispering to him about movement and noise. They swirled back, leading him toward the sitting room. When he stepped inside, the sight before him made him pause.

Kaia was sitting on the floor, her little wings fluttering as she balanced a small pile of stuffed animals on top of Nyx’s head. Nyx, sitting cross-legged and perfectly still, looked utterly resigned, though there was a small, amused smile on his face.

“Kaia,” Azriel said, his voice soft but firm as he crossed the room.

Kaia’s head whipped around, her big dark eyes lighting up when she saw him. “Dada!” she squealed, scrambling to her feet. She stumbled slightly before running toward him, her tiny wings flapping in excitement.

Azriel caught her easily, scooping her up into his arms. “What are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked, his tone tinged with amusement as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Kaia leaned back, her little face glowing with mischief. “Pwaying wif Nyxie’s hair,” she declared proudly, pointing at Nyx.

Nyx raised an eyebrow, reaching up to pluck a stuffed animal from his head. “I don’t think this is what my dad had in mind when he said to keep her busy.”

Azriel chuckled, pressing a kiss to Kaia’s temple. “Thank you for watching her, Nyx.”

“Anytime,” Nyx said, standing up and brushing off his pants. He handed Kaia one of the stuffed animals she had dropped. “But fair warning—she’s a little too good at bossing people around.”

Azriel smiled softly, adjusting Kaia on his hip as she giggled and buried her face in his neck. “She gets that from her mother,” he said with a hint of warmth in his voice.

Kaia peeked up at him, her curls bouncing as she grinned. “Dada, we go?”

“Yes, love,” Azriel said, turning toward the doorway. “We’re going to the cabin, but first, we need to pack your things. Come on, let’s get you ready.”

Nyx followed them out, shaking his head. “This is going to be a long week,” he muttered, though there was a glimmer of affection in his voice.

Azriel glanced back at him with a rare, small smile. “It always is.”

As Azriel walked toward the staircase with Kaia securely in his arms, he glanced back at Nyx, who was trailing behind with a casual slouch.

“Nyx,” Azriel said, his tone calm but carrying the unmistakable authority of someone used to giving orders.

The 13-year-old straightened slightly, his sharp eyes meeting Azriel’s. “Yeah?”

“Go pack your things,” Azriel instructed. “Clothes, whatever books or games you want to bring. Make sure you’ve got enough for the week.”

Nyx sighed, dragging a hand through his dark hair. “Do I have to? I just got her to sit still. That was hard work, you know.”

Azriel gave him a pointed look, one that made Nyx quickly rethink any further protests. “Yes, you have to. Unless you’d like to be stuck in the same outfit for the next seven days.”

Nyx groaned but didn’t argue further. “Fine. But if I have to pack, I’m bringing all my stuff. Don’t complain when I take up half the space in the cabin.”

Azriel’s lips quirked upward in a faint smile. “Just pack what you need, Nyx. No more, no less.”

Nyx huffed, turning on his heel and heading toward his room. “You’re lucky I like Kaia and my aunt,” he muttered under his breath, though there was no real bite in his tone.

Azriel turned his attention back to Kaia, who was fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “Alright, little one,” he murmured, his voice softening as he kissed the top of her head. “Let’s get you packed up.”

Kaia wriggled slightly, her tiny hands gripping his shoulders. “I pack toys?” she asked, her words slightly garbled in her toddler speech.

Azriel nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Of course. Let’s make sure we grab your favourite ones, okay?”

“‘Kay,” she said happily, her wings fluttering as she cuddled closer.

Azriel carried Kaia into her small but cozy room, decorated in soft shades of cream and pale green. Tiny wooden shelves lined the walls, overflowing with stuffed animals, picture books, and small trinkets she’d accumulated in her two short years. Her favourite blanket, a deep blue that matched his siphons, was draped over the side of her crib-turned-toddler bed.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Azriel said, setting her down on the soft rug in the centre of the room. She plopped onto her bottom with a giggle, her tiny wings fluttering as she looked up at him with wide, expectant eyes.

Azriel crouched down and opened the small wooden chest at the foot of her bed, pulling out a soft travel bag embroidered with her name. “We’ll start with your clothes,” he murmured, more to himself than to her.

“Cwothes!” Kaia echoed, clapping her hands.

Azriel stood and moved to her little dresser, pulling open the top drawer where her neatly folded tunics and leggings were stored. He carefully selected a week’s worth of outfits—soft, comfortable pieces that would keep her warm in the cooler mountain air.

“Do you want to help, Kaia?” he asked as he folded a tiny tunic and placed it in the bag.

Kaia jumped to her feet, wobbling slightly before toddling over to him. “I hewp!” she declared proudly, grabbing one of the leggings he’d laid out. Her little hands struggled to fold it, but she managed to mash it into a ball and shoved it into the bag.

Azriel chuckled, his shadows curling around him like an extension of his amusement. “Good job, love,” he said, smoothing out the bunched-up fabric before zipping the main compartment.

Kaia beamed, clearly pleased with herself. “I so good,” she said with a self-satisfied nod.

“The best,” Azriel agreed, lifting her back onto the rug. He moved next to the shelf where her favorite toys were kept. “Alright, what toys do you want to bring?”

Kaia’s eyes lit up, and she immediately ran to the shelf, pointing at a stuffed bat nearly as big as her. “Batty!”

Azriel reached for the stuffed animal, handing it to her. “Batty, of course. Anything else?”

Kaia clutched Batty to her chest, her little face scrunched in concentration as she scanned the shelf. “An’...an’ Bunny!” she declared, pointing to a small gray rabbit.

Azriel grabbed the rabbit and added it to the bag. “Batty and Bunny. Anyone else?”

Kaia hesitated, then nodded. “Puppy!”

Azriel reached for the well-loved plush dog and handed it to her. “Alright, that’s three. I think that’s plenty, don’t you?”

Kaia pouted slightly but nodded, hugging Batty tightly.

Next, Azriel grabbed her favorite blanket from her bed. “We’ll need this,” he said softly, folding it neatly before tucking it into the bag. He also added a couple of her picture books, knowing how much she loved to have bedtime stories read to her.

Finally, he packed a small pouch with some snacks—dried fruit and crackers, her favourites—and slid it into the side pocket of the bag.

“There,” he said, zipping the bag shut. “All ready for the cabin.”

Kaia looked up at him, her big dark eyes shining. “We go now, Dada?”

Azriel smiled, scooping her up into his arms. “Not yet, love. Soon.”

Kaia rested her head against his shoulder, her tiny hand clutching the fabric of his shirt. “’Kay,” she murmured, her voice soft and content.

Azriel pressed a kiss to her curls, his heart swelling with a warmth he could never quite put into words. “Let’s go find the others,” he said, carrying her and the bag out of the room.

-----

You, Nesta, and Feyre stood in the grand room of the Day Court's estate, taking in the sweeping view of the sun-kissed landscape outside. The pale golden walls and sunlit windows were the perfect setting for a relaxing getaway, especially after weeks of chaos back at the Night Court.

As you set down your bag, you sighed with relief. “It feels so good to finally be here,” you said, dropping onto one of the plush couches and looking at the half-empty wine bottle beside you.

Feyre raised an eyebrow, a smirk curling on her lips. “Already drinking at 1 PM? I guess we really are living our best lives without any kids around.”

Nesta snorted as she opened a second bottle. “I’m not complaining. I’ve earned this.”

You laughed and took a sip, leaning back against the cushions. “I swear, every moment I get without Kaia trying to climb up my legs is a treasure.”

Feyre rolled her eyes but was clearly amused. “I thought we were all in agreement. A week off. I can’t believe we actually made it.”

Nesta chuckled. “We should’ve left sooner. It’s been a mess with the kids, but at least we finally get some peace and quiet.”

As if on cue, the door to the living room swung open, and Helion strode in, his hair shining like the sun itself. He wore his usual carefree grin, his amber eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Well, well, well,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he took in the three of you lounging on the couch. “The beauties have come without their beasts. Should I be worried about what you’re all getting up to without them?”

You smirked at him, feeling the familiar warmth of his teasing presence. “Helion, you’re just jealous you didn’t come with us. You know you can’t resist our charm.”

Nesta and Feyre both glanced between you and Helion, their curiosity piqued.

Feyre tilted her head. “Wait, you two know each other that well?”

Helion raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by their interest. “Know each other? We go way back. You could say I’m the loss of her life,” he said, a playful gleam in his eyes. “She’s the one that got away.”

You rolled your eyes, not at all surprised by his dramatic flair. “Not true,” you replied with a grin. “We slept twice, centuries ago. That’s all. And one of those times was when you were trying to win a bet on whether or not you could make me laugh.”

Nesta and Feyre exchanged looks, clearly intrigued.

“Twice?” Feyre asked, raising an eyebrow. “And you’re telling me there was nothing more between the two of you?”

Helion leaned against the doorframe with a knowing look, crossing one ankle over the other. “Ah, nothing more. The truth is, we slept, we laughed, and then we moved on. I’m the truth-teller, after all,” he added, smirking as if to say, don’t challenge me on this.

Nesta looked at you in disbelief. “So, you two really didn’t get together after all that?”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “Nope. I’m not sure even Helion can hold a candle to the other men I’ve encountered. Besides, we’re still good friends.”

Helion’s grin widened as he walked over and placed a hand on your shoulder. “The best kind of friend, of course. The kind who knows all your secrets and still manages to make you laugh.”

Feyre laughed softly, clearly entertained by the banter. “Well, I’m glad you two had your fun. But, seriously, is there any chance you two would ever—”

“Stop right there,” you interrupted, holding up a hand to halt her curiosity. “Let’s just say we’ve both moved on. No need for more stories. My husband is way more than perfect for me.”

Helion chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, I won’t embarrass you any further. But I still stand by my ‘loss of my life’ claim.”

You smirked, giving him a playful shove. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Just the way you like me,” he replied with a wink, turning to face Nesta and Feyre. “Anyway, welcome to the Day Court. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. And don’t let them fool you; they can’t resist a little sunshine every now and then.”

With that, Helion made his exit, leaving you, Feyre, and Nesta to settle into the quiet luxury of the Day Court, your laughter still echoing in the room.

Feyre and Nesta exchanged a surprised look as Helion left, their curiosity piqued by the snippets of your past that had come up in conversation. They were both clearly itching to ask more, and Feyre, ever the straightforward one, was the first to break the silence.

“You never told us about that,” she said, her voice half teasing, half incredulous. “How did we not know about you and Helion?”

You took another sip from your glass, leaning back and pretending to be nonchalant, though inwardly you were amused at their questions. You had definitely seen more than your fair share of shocked expressions over the centuries.

“You’re only in your thirties,” you said with a smirk, setting your glass down on the table beside you. “I’ve had more time to experience things than you can imagine. I’m in my five-hundreds, remember?”

Nesta raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but intrigued. “Still… How have we never heard any of these stories?”

“Well, the thing is,” you began, glancing between them with a knowing smile, “I’ve had more than just one adventure, if you will. Not just with Helion.”

Feyre blinked. “What do you mean? Like…”

You didn’t let her finish, taking an exaggerated breath. “I slept with Eris too. He’s a charming one, if you can get past his ego. Lucien wasn’t bad either. Good lover, actually.” You shrugged casually, enjoying the shocked expressions on their faces. “And let’s not forget Tarquin. I’ve seen my fair share of High Lords. being Rhysand's sister allows a lot of interactions with higher profiles.”

Feyre’s mouth dropped open, eyes wide in disbelief. “Tarquin? I would never have guessed!”

“Yeah, well, don’t get too excited. We never got very far,” you added with a teasing grin. “Just a few stolen moments here and there, but you know… Tarquin’s good company when you need it.”

Nesta was almost choking on her wine, unable to keep her laughter in. “Wait, so you really weren’t lying when you said you’ve slept with half the court?”

You raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, smirking. “Wouldn’t call it half, but yes, I’ve been around. But those are just the more notable names. There are more.”

Feyre shook her head in utter disbelief. “How have we been friends for so long, and you’ve never once mentioned any of this?”

“Because, darling,” you said, swirling your wine in the glass with a playful grin, “you two have been busy with your own drama. There’s only so much time in a conversation, and quite frankly, I enjoy watching you both unravel the mystery of my past.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes at you, clearly intrigued but also a little annoyed by the way you were making a game out of this. “Okay, fine. But I want to know everything. Tell me about Eris.”

You leaned back, folding your arms and smirking at them both. “Well, that’s a long story. Maybe after another glass of wine?”

Feyre and Nesta exchanged a look, both of them clearly hooked on your tales now, and you could tell they weren’t going to let this go. They were going to need all the details, and you were more than happy to indulge them in their curiosity.

For the first time in a while, you felt truly free. No responsibilities. No expectations. Just three old friends relaxing and laughing in the comfort of the Day Court—and the promise of a few more stories to tell.

part 2 part 3

A/N: Comments and reblogs would be appreciated, let me know if you'd like to be tagged

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