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theeveninghour · 1 month

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All My Dreaming

Summary: You came to the Night Court as a fugitive and quickly became a valued member of the Inner Circle. Azriel’s love for you has burned brightly in his chest for nearly two centuries now, but when an unknown force threatens to take you from him, he must fight to keep you at his side.

Pairing: Azriel x Winter Court!Reader

A/N: I don’t use Y/N here just out of personal preference, but the IC do call reader “Little One” because she’s younger than them by like a century or so. Also, slight timeline deviation? I kind of just made the ACOTAR timeline work for me a little bit but the important bits are there mostly. If it’s not totally accurate, please suspend your disbelief and go with it. I also took some serious liberties with Prythian geography and Azriel’s shadows in this. I had to force myself to stop because I could’ve written five more scenes, so let me know if you all want a part two. I got nasty Azriel thots to spare, baby!

WC: 16.1k ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW: 18+, Minors DNI, violence, death, descriptive gore, lots of time jumps, torture, smut, p in v, fingering, porn with plot, mating, slow burn, angst, friends to lovers, declarations of love, loving sexy times, miscommunications abound, Azriel being a big ole softie, Azriel being a big ole bitch to bad men, Azriel really going tf thru it emotionally, and Azriel being mouthy as fuck. Just girly things.

Part 2

Azriel hadn’t seen you in four days. Nearly a week had passed since you’d left. Rhys mentioned a mission but no additional details, Cassian avoided the topic, knowing how frustrated his brother got when you were gone, and Feyre was decidedly unhelpful the few times he’d brought you up. His shadows searched aimlessly, they’d found nothing as far south as Winter Court, daring not venture into Autumn, and knowing damn well you’d never step foot into Spring. You were slowly driving him mad; the bond in his chest aching at the loss. Even if you hadn’t recognized the golden thread linking the two of you, he felt it.

Gods, did he feel it. He’d often lay in his bed at night, eyes tracing the intricate foil patterns of the ceiling tiles. When sleep evaded him, as it frequently did, he’d grasp the thread tightly in his minds eye and tug it experimentally, begging you to see, to notice it was him that loved you with a ferocity that rivaled the sun. Try as he might, the responding tug never answered, his call into the void not returning an echo.

The second it snapped for him, Azriel had resolved himself as unworthy, not of someone like you. You were powerful, breathtakingly beautiful, intimidatingly intelligent, and you regularly brought men to their knees, both in political circles and on the battlefield. Rhys relied on you as much he did Cassian and Az, you were a core member of his court, a valuable asset, and the love of Azriel’s life. Azriel avoided the latter subject entirely, choosing instead to silently stoke the ember in chest with unyielding affection; his own private paramour.

When you’d joined the Night Court, you’d been on the run from both Winter and Autumn Courts. Your father was a high fae noble in Winter that had attempted to arrange a marriage to the second youngest Vanserra of Autumn. The family’s brutal reputation was legend and you were terrified. You were young then, barely a century old, and upon your introductory visit to the Autumn Court, Beron sought to make an impression by presenting a welcome gift. That gift? The public torture and execution of a servant he’d deemed traitorous.

His gleaming eyes remained on yours with each cast of the fire whip he’d conjured using his cruel magic. He’d cracked it again and again until blood splattered and the servant was left flayed beyond recognition, flesh searing, and finger tips twitching from the remaining neurons firing in his brain. Only after his death did Beron announce his crimes. He’d stolen a parcel of food from the royal pantry to feed his wife and small child. Your stomach churned at the thought of the now widow and fatherless child waiting at home for the male that would never return.

It had all been a test to see if you were worthy of the most violent and petulant of the broody sons, and you’d passed, holding Beron’s stare and keeping your back straight as you faced his wrath head on. You’d cried yourself dry in your room that night though, sobs wracking your form until your chest ached, grief for the male that was lost. Fear settled into your heart, terror of the family you were set to marry into.

You’d ran at first light, leaving with nothing but the clothes on your back. Your Winter white blonde hair streaking across the red and orange forest as you bolted. Beron sent his dogs after you. You still had the scars lining your calves from where they’d gotten too close, brought you down into the dirt, jaws snapping and tearing at the muscly sinew there. But you’d fought. You’d kicked and clawed like a feral child of the woods, screaming with a sense of self preservation you’d never known you possessed.

Rhysand had found you half dead, starving and a little savage in the mountainous border between the Day and Night Courts. He’d made a bargain with you then; he’d save you, if you worked for him. Word had already spread of the ousted Winter female and spurned Autumn princeling and Rhysand was impressed you’d lasted in the wilds undetected for so long. The small star flecked tattoo of the Velarian night sky that lived on your wrist since was the only evidence of his deal.

You’d long moved past such a bargain. Rhys had offered to lift it half a dozen times in your first hundred years within his court, but you hadn’t minded. A reminder, you’d insisted, a mark of your loyalty to the family that didn’t lead you the wolves with such glee.

You’d settled into a routine in Velaris, training with the Illyrian brothers and charming Amren with your intelligence and wit. But you’d become the closest with Mor, who felt a kinship in your shared traumas. She’d soothed you in those first years, fiercely protecting her friend when Eris Vanserra had shown up in Hewn City as an emissary to inquire on your new position in the Night Court. It was that same night that Azriel realized how fucked he truly was.

Eris smirked at you and your back straightened, face growing cold. He spoke, “My brother was wondering where you’d scampered off to.” A laugh followed, “You couldn’t stomach our court, but found yourself bound to the Court of Nightmares? My my, what a wicked turn of events.”

Rhysand had spoken then, wearing his High Lord mask well, “Watch yourself, Eris. You know not what our Little One can do.” Eris laughed, the sound laced with the dark spark of a threat. “Little One? Fugitive and Night Court whore, I must tell your father. I’m sure he’ll be proud to hear of his daughter’s fate.” Azriel’s wings pricked, then fluttered, he would’ve killed Eris right then for you. Your hand came to rest on Rhys’ arm as you stepped around the throne to level your accuser with a look that should’ve turned him to stone.

“I am no male’s whore and I belong to no court except Night. Report what you wish to my father, to your father, your brother. May you all rot.” You’d spat at his feet then, and the room heated twenty degrees, Eris’ barely kept rage simmering under the surface, fire blooming on the fringes of his figure.

He stepped forward and Cassian, Azriel, and Mor all shifted, prepared to take out the threat. Eris’ eyes tracked their figures, gauging the situation. He knew better. Any attack here would mean war on his court and his father have his hide for that. You stepped forward to meet him, knowing he could make no move without endangering his position. You kept your spine straight and narrowed your gaze at him with such contempt he would’ve been impressed at the show had you been anyone else.

“I will say this once Eris Vanserra,” you held up one long manicured finger, and Azriel traced the action with thinly veiled obsession. “Leave my court or I will be the one to kill you. I’ll rip your spine from your body and I’ll do it with the same glee in which your father,” you’d spat that word, the hatred you held for Beron burning your throat as the words exited your mouth, “killed that male for feeding his family.” You took a step closer, summoning a dagger in your left hand, and rolling it your palm. “Trust that we have no tolerance for your family or your bullshit in these lands.”

Eris had good enough sense to step back then, peering around your form to where Rhysand sat, legs spread, slouched in the throne, smirking at your display of dominance. Azriel to his right looked on in pure male satisfaction, you were a powerful little thing and he was rather fond of you in that moment. Eris spoke up, “Should I note that the Night Court threatens other Courts for sport?” Cassian and Azriel rolled their eyes in synchronous fashion, but it was Mor that spoke with the dark edge of a threat, “Only ones that deserve such brutality.” Her father, Kier, stood in the gathered crowd and sneered at the tone of her voice.

You’d done the unthinkable then, winnowing behind Eris, grasping the male by his red hair and dragging the dagger to his neck, digging in enough to cause the male’s heart to speed, a line of scarlet leaking from the press of your blade. You could feel the heat in his skin, the flame licked at your hand as you released him with a shove.

You brandished your dagger as if it was an extension of your hand, the tip of the silver blade glinting with red from the now healing cut at Eris’ throat. “Come for me again and I’ll kill you.” It was then that Azriel noted the slight tremble in the hand at your right side and he wished on some distant star that he could reach out to you, soothe you, tell you that he was proud and you defended yourself and your court beautifully.

As if his wish was granted, he felt his chest give way to a canyon of emotion, heart stuttering as the bond fluttered and snapped, thrumming with affection for the female standing at the center of the room. He had selfishly allowed himself to hope it would be you, in the dark of the night when he was alone and his shadows whispered to him of your whereabouts. Since he’d met you, he fostered that small romantic notion of soulmates. His most private desire.

Eris whirled on you with a roar, grabbing your throat with hands of fire. Azriel felt the breath leave him, and he took two then three steps forward before he could think, hazel eyes alight with a fierceness you’d not yet witnessed. Your eyes found his and you held up your hand to halt his movements, the one that had trembled seconds earlier, now steady as a stone. You’d looked at Eris then, raising your chin defiantly, a slow smile overtaking your face as you once again spit at the Autumn male before winnowing back to your place in front of the dais. Rhysand raised to his feet then, taking steps down to meet you. His hand grazed your arm this time and his mind reached out, “Very good, Little One, very good.”

“As the lady said, Eris, come to my court in search of her again, and she’ll be the one to kill you.” Rhys circled Eris, tracking like prey. “But not before I sanction it for laying your hands on a member of my house.” Rhysand spoke with such quiet cunning, it was no wonder he excelled as High Lord. Eris snarled then before winnowing out of the Hewn City and Azriel quickly set his shadows to following him, ensuring he was actually gone.

You returned to Mor’s side and the shameless pride that set on your face the rest of the night made Azriel want to kiss you. Gods, he was fucked..

You’d flirted with him constantly in the first century you’d been in Velaris. You had laid it on thick too, dragging a long nail up his arm, your mouth sliding into a smirk after one too many drinks at Rita’s. Azriel had always feigned friendly indifference though, a mask he slipped on that was equal parts protection as it was self soothing. His only crack coming in the form of a slight tremble in his pinky as he tried to gather himself to avoid closing the space between you, touching, grasping, feeling.

He’d worn black leather gloves around you in your first few decades with them. His hands always held the most insecurity for him, the silver scars and warped skin a brutal reminder of his childhood. It was after training one day, as you all packed your small bags and threw towels into bins that you’d asked about it.

“I don’t mean to pry, and feel free to tell me to fuck off, but why the gloves?” You asked quietly leaning against a wall less than ten feet from him. He’d stiffened and breathed tightly, “it helps with the work.” That had always been his excuse, wearing gloves when killing helped reduce the touch memories associated with the act, and it was partially true. But he wasn’t on a mission right now, and you called him on that, “are you spying right now?” Your lips quirked, “should I tell Rhys?” Your words were mirthful, but your eyes held nothing but empathy for the Shadowsinger, sometimes Azriel wondered if that was your Cauldron blessed gift.

You’d reached down then, rolling up the left leg of your training leathers. You’d resumed your full height and rotated your calf outward for his eyes to survey the damage there. Ragged silver keloid scars marked the skin from your ankle to the soft back of your knee— a knee he’d admittedly fantasized about many nights in a row now. He’d selfishly thought about trailing kisses up your leg, pausing to nip playfully at the soft skin at your knee as he made his way north, up your thigh. He breathed deeply banishing those thoughts as he took in the site of your marred skin. Judging by the heavily keratinized markings, the injury had no doubt been painful when incurred originally. Azriel’s fingers twitched again, wanting to touch your face, hold you as he kissed away your grief.

“From Beron’s dogs,” you breathed, rolling you shoulders, as if shaking the memory from your mind. “They wouldn’t heal when I was out there,” you clicked your tongue, “granted I was starving,” you sighed, “but that’s a story for another day.” You looked at him then, and he had to steady himself at the emotions pooling in your eyes.

He’d already planned on killing Beron if the opportunity presented for what had happened with Mor, but for you, he’d make it hurt. He’d drag it out and make it slow. He’d torture him for days, flaying skin from bone, taking fingers then limbs and when at last he begged for death, Azriel would set the dogs on him and laugh as they tore him apart. He felt a long repressed need for vengeance creep up his spine, and he hated to acknowledge what its presence meant in regards to you.

“It’s okay, you know,” you’d said, head lolling to the side as you watched him, eyes swimming with a gentle affection, “I’ll never judge you for something like that.” Azriel squeezed his eyes shut as he turned his head from you and breathed in tightly. How did always manage to be so fucking disarming and vulnerable? That must’ve been a gift too.

He pinched the middle finger of the right glove and pulled it from his hand, grasping his now exposed fingers into a fist, knuckles cracking. He extended that arm out, palm up as he let you view his deepest insecurity, the thing he hated most in his appearance.

You’d stepped forward, looking at his palm. Your hands went to reach but you’d paused, looking to his eyes as you silently asked permission to touch. He nodded stiffly, watching you with the same intensity of an animal being hunted, prey ready to bolt at any moment.

Your fingers touched his hand, and he felt the connection race up his arm and to his chest, settling in his heart. Your eyes studied, and you rotated his hand, fingers gently tracing from his wrist, to knuckle, to fingernail in reverence. You covered his hand with your own, moving your eyes to his hazel ones. “Are they dead?” You’d asked seriously, and he stuttered a shocked laugh. “Yes, Little One, they are,” he answered, a small smile playing at his mouth. The two of you far too similar it seemed. “Good,” you’d said simply before kissing his knuckles and pulling the glove back on for him. The action was quietly intimate, and Azriel should’ve kissed you then. Mother knows he considered it, eyes watching you with rapt attention as his heart sped up and breathing shallowed.

“If you two are done flirting, lunch is ready,” Cassian announced from the doorway, breaking the spell you were both under. You’d jumped and laughed freely at the large male smirking at the entrance. You grasped Azriel’s hand tightly in affection before releasing it to turn on your heel to exit the room, passing by Cass with an eye roll, thumping him square in the chest.

Cassian looked to his brother as he walked into the room and his face split into a shit eating grin. “Let’s go, loverboy,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. Azriel glared, scoffing as he followed behind you, praying to whatever Gods were listening that he’d get you alone again soon.

In your second century with the Night Court, you’d lessened the blatant flirting and settled into loving, easy friendship. You regularly attended balls and galas in Hewn City, fitting into such pomp with practiced ease, but always with a dagger strapped to your thigh, ready to cut a male down in seconds. Those events were almost routine at this point: Azriel would save you a dance, and you’d move together in a slow ritual that you’d both perfected over the years, he’d bow as the violinist played their final note and resume his place on dais at Rhys’ right. His eyes would follow you the rest of the night, as you spoke in an airy manner to various high fae, glaring at any male whose hands ventured too close to his mate.

Nights when the Court held parties at the House of Wind were different though. You were far less rigid, finding it easy to exist without scrutiny. Those were the nights Azriel’s eyes rarely left your form as he watched obsessively from the corners of the room.

“You’re staring,” Rhys chimed from his place next to Azriel, eyes not leaving the crowd as he spoke to the Shadowsinger, mouth smirking. Azriel was staring. You’d worn cobalt blue tonight, a lovely color on your skin. His color on your skin. Mother above, the male possessiveness that crawled up his spine was unreal. Mate, mate, mate, his shadows had sang in his ear. He wanted to pluck the eyes from every male in the room for even glancing in your direction. He wanted so much more than that too. Your breathy sighs as he marked you, your moan as he made you come undone, his name crying from your lips as he ate his come from your cunt after. Azriel had a million and one scenarios running through his head. He yearned to make each one of them come to fruition too.

He hadn’t answered Rhysand, so the High Lord tried again, “you really should tell her, but please,” Rhys closed his eyes with a grimace, “quiet your thoughts first, for Cauldron’s sake.” That got Azriel’s attention, his back straightening and mental shield slamming down. His eyes squeezed shut, almost as if he was in pain. “I cannot burden her with that now,” he said, “not with war at our doorstep.” Indeed, the second war with Hybern creeped ever closer, disappearances of other high fae occurring daily. Whatever they were planning across the sea, it was going to bring Prythian to its knees.

Rhysand sighed then, feeling older than his 500 years. “Be that as it may, we should hold those we love tighter.” Rhysand looked to Feyre at that moment, his eyes meeting his mate’s, as he sent a strum of warm affection down the bond. She smiled and returned it cheerily. He turned back to Azriel, “if it all ends tomorrow, I know my love and she knows me. That’s all we can ask for in this immortal life.” Azriel looked back to you, and your eyes were already on him, tracing the shadows that wound around his chest. You met his eyes and winked, before turning back to Mor and laughing freely.

“I thank the Cauldron daily it was you that found her in those mountains, Rhys.” Azriel spoke quietly, admitting a small secret he’d not told anyone. Rhysand softened, and clapped his friend on the shoulder, “As I am, brother.” Azriel nodded, letting the conversation die between himself and the High Lord as he drained the drink in his hand and moved down the steps in your direction.

You’d been in conversation with Mor when he approached. She was telling you of the seamstress she’d been seeing, and how happy she was. Azriel cleared his throat from behind the two of you and you turned to meet him, taking in his appearance with wide eyes. “Ladies,” he started, bowing to you and Mor, who snorted at the silly formality. “And that note, I’ll be taking my leave. I’ve got a lady to see,” she said with a wink and a flourish of her red dress. You laughed and shook your head before turning back to the Shadowsinger. He’d caught you staring earlier and your heart had nearly jumped into your throat, before Mor mocked you lightly, diffusing the tension.

“Hi Az,” you greeted softly, before dropping your empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray and thanking them. Azriel watched you closely, noting the revealed skin that shifted with each movement, committing every angle and freckle to memory.

“You want to get out of here?” He dared ask, jerking his head toward the private balcony on the House of Wind. You raised a brow, Azriel? Asking you to leave? Together? You heart was back in your throat and you thanked the Mother that you’d taken your time getting ready that evening. Nodding, you grasped his arm as he offered it to you like a proper courtier. He walked the two of you up a round of stairs and away from the eyes he’d threatened earlier in the night. Voices dulled the more space you put between yourselves and them and you couldn’t help but start to sweat a bit at the thought of being alone with Azriel.

You’d been friends for nearly two centuries, but you’d always felt a connection with the male. Your heart thrummed with a warm, golden affection when he got close. It made keeping a clear head during training hard. It made sitting next to him at dinner difficult. And when he’d looked at you like you hung the moon as you danced earlier in the night, it made you want to take him to bed and ride him until he moaned your name. You breathed deeply. ‘Focus,’ you chided yourself, ‘he is your friend, for Cauldron’s sake.’

He led you out onto to the balcony and stopped at the railing before looking up at the star flecked sky. “This is my favorite part of the House,” he said eyes scanning the sky before looking back to you as you watched him. A blush crept up his neck, before he cleared his throat again.

“I’ve always wondered what it was like to be able to fly, you know,” you said quietly, removing your hand from his arm, rolling up onto your toes, leaning against the stone railing, and looking out on Velaris before scanning your eyes up to the three stars that shone brightly overhead. “When I was a child, I met a Peregryn from the Dawn Court and thought she had the most beautiful wings I’d ever seen.” You chanced a glance his way, “I’d not met an Illyrian yet.” You reminded with a smirk, bumping his arm with fondness. Gods, he was in trouble.

“I asked her what it was like and she said it was the purest sense of freedom possible.” You glanced down at your feet, “I spent the next year wishing for wings.” He mulled on your words. He wanted to say something cheesy as Cassian would, like ‘I’ll be your wings’ but he couldn’t, so you continued on.

“When I was a little older, I witnessed a blue skinned lesser fae’s wings ripped from his body as punishment and it was the most gruesome thing I’d seen at that point.” You took a shuddering breath, “I cried for him that night. The lost freedom. How maddening it must’ve been.” You looked at him then and he watched you with furrowed brows. “How does it feel for you?” You asked softly, eyes tracing the shine of his wing. ‘Magnificent things,’ you thought. You remembered seeing his wings for the first time and thinking the Peregryn had finally moved to second place in your mind.

Azriel had to gather himself as he spoke, “It’s… everything.” He said quietly adjusting his body to extend a wing. “My ability to fly came in late,” he said, and your eyes widened, you hadn’t known that. “My childhood was… rough and I didn’t learn to fly until I was nearly grown.” He laughed, scuffing the toe of his boot, wings folding in behind him. “It was a lot of crash landings those first months.” You snorted, mental image of a younger Az, landing in a puddle of mud crossing your mind.

“I was never a proud Illyrian, not like the others,” he continued, “it was hard for me to reconcile my heritage and our traditions.” He looked to the cityscape then, “but the stronger I got, the more I understood why flight was so crucial to my people.” He looked to you, eyes shining, “it’s the closest we can get to the stars.”

You leaned over the railing again, staring wistfully at the night sky, the moon reflecting on your skin. “Will you take me someday? Flying, I mean.” Did you not know Azriel would give you the world? Of course he’d take you flying. He’d give you the moon, the stars, walk through fire and back, anything. He nodded, “you say the word, and I’ll fly you the the ocean and back.” The smile that broke across your face crippled him, his knees threatened to give way.

“Yours are my favorite,” you murmured softly, eyes glancing from his wings to his face. Azriel blushed in full, pink speckling his neck and cheeks as he laughed. “Don’t let Cass hear you say that, he’s got an ego,” he said, a smile remaining at his lips. You liked him like this the most. Loose, smiling, free. You reached up then, cupping his reddened cheek, thumb stroking. “I don’t care,” you said smiling, “it’s the truth.” Azriel swallowed roughly, staring at your eyes swimming with an emotion he knew, but was much too stubborn and scared to name.

Just as your hand went to retreat, he grasped it between his own. “You can touch them,” he offered, knowing damn well the implications, “if you want,” he added. Your eyes widened. Mor had mentioned once that Illyrian’s wings were ‘sensitive,’ was the word she’d used. It was a sign of great intimacy and trust to allow another to touch them. You felt the air shift between you two then, as you nodded.

He extended a wing toward you. This felt so much like the first time he’d shown you his hands all those years ago. Your hand crept forward and gentle fingers met the red gold membrane that stretched between two metacarpals. Your fingers traced the membrane in smooth circles, then traced up to the crest. Azriel felt his breath gutter out of his mouth in a loud, choppy exhale, and he felt himself harden at the sensation of your fingers against the most sensitive portion of his wings. You gasped and jerked away at the sudden noise, before apologizing. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten carried away.”

Azriel shook his head, “It’s not that, they’re sensitive.” There was that word again, only it made you think of how they’d been shredded before the King of Hybern, and you opened your mouth to apologize again, but he stopped you short. “I haven’t allowed another to touch them freely since my mother.” The admission floored you, your gut giving way with a breath.

You looked to his eyes then, the air between you had shifted again and you knew this was it. This was the moment you’d waited for, he was going to kiss you. Mother, it felt you’d waited a millennia, and he felt just the same. But that kiss never came. Instead, Azriel went stock still, his eyes now on the House behind you.

“Azriel?” You questioned. “It’s Rhys,” he said tightly, “he’s summoning me.” You understood then. He looked to you desperately, eyes a little wild and apologetic. “I’m sorry, I have to go to him.” You nodded, you both worked for the High Lord, you’d never get in the way of Azriel’s allegiance to his Court. “Of course,” you said quietly, taking a step back and swallowing down your disappointment.

Azriel took three steps towards the entrance then stopped. “I’ll take you,” he turned around, backing his way to the arched stone, but keeping his eyes on you for a moment longer. “When I get back, I’ll take you flying,” he offered. Another smile etched its way across your face and Azriel took a long moment to memorize it greedily. “It’s a date,” you said confidently. He beamed then, turning on a heel to pick up into a jog, Rhys no doubt shouting to hurry up.

That date hadn’t happened though. The second war with Hybern broke out days later and you both barely made it out alive.

When Feyre had come to Velaris after Amarantha’s defeat, you’d accepted her with easy friendship. You saw Rhysand, your longtime friend, overcome with love for his newly found mate, and you couldn’t help but love her as well. You’d shared your story with her and the two of you bonded deeply over her art. She’d offered to teach you to paint, and you began taking lessons in your off time. Rhys had been Cauldron blessed with her and you reminded him daily.

Later, when Feyre’s sisters joined their little unit, you’d been the first one to break Nesta’s tough exterior. The female saw parts of herself in you and you’d gotten her to crack a smile when you mocked Rhys’ High Lord voice at dinner one night. Elain had been a tougher sell, but you’d tried, along with Azriel, to bring the female out of her shell. The day she joined you in the library to read, you knew progress had been made, even if you two had only sat in silence a few feet apart, a small smile gracing her features.

You left her book recommendations with small notes and she began to do the same. Your friendship playing out in the margins of the library’s tomes. You won her over with silent conversation. Nesta noticed, of course, and she looked to you with gratitude as she saw her sister’s eyes brightened and skin began to return to its normal, healthy color. The night Azriel mentioned it as you walked down the hall toward the dining room for the family meal, you’d shrugged. “I met her where she needed me to,” you’d said quietly, glancing to your feet. Azriel smiled, a Cauldron blessed gift indeed.

Dinners at the House of Wind were by far Azriel’s favorite version of you. You’d laugh with abandon, smile splitting your face, showing every tooth as Mor cracked a joke and leaned against you for support, one too many drinks in her system. The first time he’d seen that smile, it blinded him, and he’d gone a little dazed, staring at you in wonderment. Rhys had interrupted his train of thought with an invasive insertion of “How quickly she reduced you to a puddle, brother.” Azriel had scowled at Rhys then, mental shields firming up, but not before he heard the distinct sound of his High Lord laughing at the Spymaster’s defensiveness.

Indeed Azriel was gone for you. When Cassian finally confronted him last year about the truth of his feelings, Azriel saw no point to avoid it any longer, not after his brothers had also found their mates. “Our souls are one in the same, she’s my mate,” he’d said pensively, as if he was letting his deepest secret breath in the light for the first time in centuries. Maybe he was. He’d made Cassian promise on his life not to tell anyone, and despite being the biggest gossip in the Inner Circle, he kept his promise. He was thrilled for his brother, knowing you were the perfect match.

Little did Azriel know, everyone else was already more than aware of his affections. Amren had figured it out a century prior when Azriel had tended your needs as you’d recovered from an injury sustained during a mission. He’d fretted around you like a mother hen, buying you flowers, sweets, and books while you were bedridden. The female had watched and hummed with a raised eyebrow as Azriel exited your room for the fifth time in one day, wringing his hands with worry despite Madja’s clean bill of health.

Feyre had figured it out the same year she’d returned from the Spring Court, just before the second war with Hybern. She’d seen the way his eyes had followed you in the war room Rhys had created to host strategy meetings. Saw him lean towards you when you spoke, saw his wings flutter when you finally cast your gaze to him, eager for your attention. More than anything, she’d seen his shadows, desperate little things, sneaking across the floor each night, sidling up your ankles and wrists, begging for your affection. You always laughed and nuzzled them as the wound their way to your hair and Azriel went a little soft at the sight.

When she told Mor, the blonde had laughed, “They’ve been circling each for two hundred years now, eventually one of them will cave.” Mor leveled a sardonic look at Feyre then, “and when they do, we’ll all have to relocate to the River House for a year lest we be subject to the frenzy.”

This mission should’ve been simple. Rhys had asked you to check out reports of rogue soldiers spotted making their way towards the border of the Night Court from the Day coastline. The intel he’d received had mentioned three to four maximum, all of them drunken ex-Hybern loyalists. It should’ve been a matter of locating them, spying for a day or two, then winnowing in to neutralize any threat. Gods, this was far from simple.

When you’d arrived in the region, the hairs on your neck rose, the air itself feeling off. As you tracked them, you’d noticed intentional attempts to throw you off course. A carelessly trashed map, crudely laid tracks in the opposite direction, Dawn Court wine bottles that had been emptied and tossed about. They knew you were there, and you quickly realized that a trap had been laid. You backed off them then, staying further than you’d have liked, but trying like hell to make them think you’d given up.

On your fourth night following them, you’d drifted away to an inn two towns over, desperately seeking a place to bathe and rest, even for a few hours. As you bathed, you felt watched in a way that discomfited you to your core, and your dagger stayed within arms reach the rest of the night. Suddenly, the role you’d played for the last two hundred years had left you entirely ill equipped for whatever was happening here.

You’d left out before dawn, refusing to lose an ounce of daylight, but as you hit the tree line, readying yourself to winnow out, you’d noticed it. Hanging from a tree, a hundred yards away was a piece of clothing, your clothing. Clothing that should’ve been in the pack at your back. Your breath shuttered out of you as you opened your mind to Rhys, asking for back up. You were in over your head and you knew when to admit it. There was no pride in getting yourself killed.

As you turned to move back to the inn where you could wait out contact from Rhys in a public location, you were met with a pair of shining blue eyes. You stepped back, keeping your grounding, readying for a fight. “You’ve been following us,” the stranger said calmly, beginning to trek in a slow circle around you. You opened your mind to Rhys again, “Help,” you called. Rhys answered this time, “Where are you?!” It was a frantic response, you never asked for help, Rhys knew this. “Just off the coast, beneath the mountain range, Day court border, 400 hundred paces from the inn” you spoke to Rhys in choppy thoughts, trying to establish a location before all hell broke loose.

“I have,” you finally answered the stranger, whose lips quirked at your voice. He stopped circling and resumed his stance in front of you, blocking passage to the inn. “Why?” He asked and you tried to keep your mind steady as you answered. “You’re trespassers in these lands” you stated simply, shrugging a shoulder up. He grinned then, “had your lot not gotten in the way of our King’s plans, these would be our lands. We were promised them. I was personally promised the Court of Nightmares.”

“Well,” you shrugged feigning indifference, “that’s not how the war played out, so I will have to ask you to leave,” you offered in your most bored political tone. The same tone you’d used with High Fae that ran off at the mouth in Hewn City. The stranger cocked his head the side then, eyes twinkling, “I don’t think I will.” At that moment, one by one, additional soldiers appeared from the forest line. One, then four, then ten, until near twenty stood around you, looking on with hatred.

Shit.

“We’d hoped for the Illyrians, but it seems your High Lord sent us a treat instead,” the stranger said with mirth. You steeled your spine, looking down your nose at the stranger, “They’re going to kill you, you know.” He’d laughed at your threat. “I think not,” he said as as arrow was released from your left, finding purchase in your shoulder. You folded over on yourself at the blow, and looked up baring your teeth, before drawing your dagger and rushing the stranger with a feral sound.

Five more arrows hit you before your blade could find its target. One into your hip, two in your back, a fourth piercing your in your upper thigh, until the last burrowed into the back of your knee, bringing you down in front of him — forcing you to bow to the stranger. The arrows were laced with faebane you realized as you’d begun to feel its effects in your blood. Your power waning quickly, thoughts becoming murky.

You released another shattered thought to Rhys then, “Tell him, please,” you begged raggedly. Rhysand came back with a rushed and tight, “Hold on, Little One, we’re coming.” You shook your head, there wasn’t time. “Tell Azriel I love him if I don’t make it, Rhys, promise me.” He responded but it muddled out, sounding like words shouted through a pool of water, then your brain fell quiet. The line severed.

The stranger lifted your head, hand wrapped around your throat, as he bent to meet your crouched form. “I’ll be sure to savor this,” he smiled and the hilt of his sword came in fierce contact with your forehead.

It was the early morning on your fifth day away when Rhys heard you. “Help,” it had come through so clearly that it startled Rhys awake and set his heart to racing. You’d only asked for help once, during the war when you were overrun and near death. You were in danger.

He’d sat up straight in bed, Feyre still sleeping silently at his side, hand resting on her pregnant stomach. “Where are you?!” He’d asked down the line, a little frantic, remembering the state he and Azriel had found you in last time. Gods, you’d been run through on a Hybern soldier’s sword, the damage was astronomical. Azriel had nearly killed everyone within a mile radius at the sight of you.

You recited your location in short bursts and Rhys focused on the bond of your bargain, using it to locate you with more precision. He reached out to Azriel then, “Get Cassian and meet me downstairs. Be ready to fly.” Azriel responded an affirmative and Rhys rushed around his room, grabbing his dagger lined belt, and using his magic to dress in his leathers quickly. He winnowed to the base of the stairs and was glad to find Cassian and Azriel waiting.

“Tell him, please” you begged into Rhys’ mind then, words growing ragged. Rhys’ eyes slammed shut with a wince and he attempted to reassure you, “Hold on, Little One, we’re coming.” Rhys opened his eyes and looked to Azriel, who was watching him with anticipation. You responded again, words growing murkier, a little warbled. “Tell Azriel I love him if I don’t make it, Rhys, promise me.” Rhysand felt sick. “We will find you and you will tell him yourself,” he spoke but the bond was dead, silent, foreboding. Rhys thought he might vomit.

He looked to Azriel again, “It’s her. She’s in trouble. We have to go.” Azriel’s face darkened with a thunderous ferocity. Mother help the males who’d harmed you. “Where?” He asked, voice deep with the threat of murderous violence. “The wilds on the border, off the coast of Day. I’ll winnow us as close as possible.” Azriel nodded his acquiesce and lifted a trembling hand to his hair, running scarred fingers through the strands. Cassian spoke then, “we will get her back,” he’d said softly as Rhysand put his hands to the two of them, preparing for the jump. “And we will kill every last one of them,” Cassian added darkly as blue-black shadows encased them and they disappeared.

You awoke with a start, gasping like you’d been underwater. Your shoulders ached from your position. You pulled on your hands only to realize you were shackled to a tree somewhere deep in the forest, the same forest you’d been on the outskirts of earlier. You looked up to the sky, trying to find the sun to gauge how much time had passed. The sun had long moved past midday and was sinking towards the evening horizon. Your throat tightened. Where was Rhysand?

“Nice of you to join us,” a voice spoke. It was the stranger again, he emerged from the camp set two hundred paces to your left, hidden by shrubs and underbrush. You got a good look at him this time. He was tall, leanly muscular in a way that reminded you of Lucien Vanserra. His hair was a dishwater blonde and lacked any sheen, falling in choppy dry waves around his shoulders. His face was gaunt, eyes sunken, bruised with a lack of rest, and his cheekbones were sharp, giving his face an angle that made him look harsh and unforgiving. Though he carried himself with confidence, you noticed a slight, barely there limp in his right leg, an old wound perhaps, one that never healed correctly. You noted that for later, if you ever got out of these shackles.

You leveled a glare at him that you hoped looked more fearsome than you felt. Mother, your bones ached and your wounds throbbed. “I left the arrows in, but broke off the shaft. Didn’t want to have you healing too quickly.” He spoke with nonchalance, while polishing a dagger, your dagger, you realized as your eyes focused. You pulled at the shackles above your head, and the stranger chuckled at your attempt.

“What do you want?” Your voice croaked, mouth dry from disuse. The stranger laughed, pointing the blade at you, “I want my fucking court and you’re the key to getting it.” You shook your head then, “I am nothing.” The words sounded foreign on your tongue, a lie on some level, you knew this, but you would be damned before you gave up your family. The stranger clicked his tongue at your response, shaking his head.

“Surely you don’t believe that? The High Lord doesn’t trust easily, you’ve been seen with his entourage. The Shadowsinger’s whore.” He squatted a few feet from you, eyes tracing from your tied hands down to your face, pausing at your breasts, before trekking down your stomach, thighs, and calves. He was sizing up how much fight you had left.

Your brain had short circuited though, the Shadowsinger’s whore. Mother above, you’d never even kissed. How long had this male watched you and your family? How had none of you seen it? A bitter laugh wretched from your lungs, “sorry to disappoint, but the Shadowsinger isn’t mine.” No matter how desperately I’ve wished it so, you added silently.

The stranger grinned then, “if you are truly nothing, then I’ll make this a little sweeter.” He took steps towards you, raising the dagger to rest at your chin, the blade pressing to the underside painfully. “You’re far too pretty to be nothing.” He ran the blade along the column of your throat, resting it against your sternum, between your breasts. You pushed yourself further into the tree, back protesting as the arrows burrowed deeper with the movement. You didn’t like the new angle this interaction had taken and your fight or flight instincts were screaming.

You attempted to reach out to Rhysand, but the bond was dead silent. Your breathing hitched at the realization that you were truly alone in this. The stranger chuckled, dragging the blade down your chest, slicing the leathers, letting the fabric fall open and reveal your undergarments to his greedy view. Your legs moved to kick, but you realized quickly they too were tied. The blade came to rest at your bare stomach, and the stranger dug it in below the navel, causing blood to pool there. You winced, but made no sound.

“Ah, I was hoping you’d be louder than that,” the stranger smirked, “I’ll have to try harder.” He backed up then and pulled a whip from his back pocket, unfurling it with a crack. Your eyes widened and you brain went silent, fear overtaking your senses. “There it is,” his smile gleamed with violent delight, “there’s the reaction I was hoping for.” He reared an arm back before cracking the whip in your direction. The leather made contact with your torso, a stinging slice appearing along your rib cage. You jerked, but bit your tongue.

He cracked it again and again until you were bloody, slices in your leathers, festering wounds along your breasts, ribs, and stomach. You’d counted to 25 lashes before your brain gave out and your vision blurred from the pain. You looked up to the sky wearily. The sun was gone and the stars were slowly appearing. You smiled at them, remembering Azriel’s words from that night all those years ago.

You hoped he’d forgive you for not telling him. You hoped he’d understand your fear in revealing that secret, that the bond had snapped for you during the war. When that Hybern soldier’s sword pierced your armor, running through your body to the hilt, and he’d let out a fearsome bellow from across the field at the sight. You felt it then, the golden strumming taking the form of a fated thread linking you two. You been near death when he and Rhys had found you and the only thing you could do was smile. Such an ironic thing it was to die in the arms of your mate.

Your head lolled to the side as exhaustion threatened to overtake you. “Azriel,” your thoughts ventured, calling down the bond he didn’t even know existed, “I love you.” Darkness swam in the corners of your vision but you swore you felt his responding tug. The Mother was kind for granting that hallucinative mercy in your final hours. Your body gave out, slumping against the shackles and darkness overwhelmed you.

Azriel was furious. No, furious wasn’t the word, he was a walking time bomb. You were gone. His mate was missing and he was going to explode. As he’d arrived with Rhys and Cassian to the location you’d given them, he could smell you. His eyes searched frantically around the scene before him until they zeroed in on an item hanging from a branch a few dozen paces out. Cloth of some sort? He approached and could detect your scent on it, realizing quickly it was your clothing. A ripped cotton blouse. His fists clenched and he vaguely heard Rhysand speaking to his left. “They must’ve captured her here.” Rhys crouched down to the ground, two fingers swiping the dirt there, before bringing them eye level to examine sample. “Blood,” he muttered, rubbing the hand on the leg of his pants, “she was injured.” Azriel’s heart thundered, he was going to fucking explode.

He set his shadows work, surveying the forest with rapid precision. They’d cover more ground this way, an army of three operating like a whole infantry. By the time the sun rose to midday, Azriel was ready to begin screaming. They trekked further into the forest, following a line of smoke that was miles deep, originating at a camp somewhere far into the wilds. His shadows murmured to him of a small band of males there, of you, shackled to a fucking tree, arrows buried in your back. He’d nearly lost the contents of his stomach at the information and set to a run alongside Rhysand and Cassian.

As the three approached the encampment, the sun was nearing dusk. Rhysand had commanded the halt and strategize. There were roughly twenty-five men, all armed. They couldn’t enter this blindly and infuriated, they would lose if they weren’t careful. Azriel hated admitting he was right, his instincts screaming otherwise. Mate, mate, mate, his heart pounded.

They backed off to a thousand paces out, close enough that they could hear if the troop vacated the premises. As Rhysand and Cassian spoke quietly, Azriel felt his heart thrum. The golden thread there had pulled him closer to you and he could tell you were still alive. Though Rhys couldn’t reach out through your bargain, Azriel’s bond was still alight and warm, he stroked it with gentle affection. You might not feel it, but Gods he would try.

As the trio retraced their steps to the camp, stars were just beginning to light overhead and Azriel grasped his daggers tightly, knuckles cracking around the hilt. He was going to kill them. Kill them all brutally for taking you, for touching what was his. When they were within a stones throw from the camp he heard it, heard you. “Azriel,” you whispered into his mind. He went stock still, spine ramrod straight, fingers trembling as they gripped his knives. The golden bond vibrated in his chest, and he felt you reaching out through murky waters, against all odds. “I love you,” you said with a soft exhaustion before your side went dark. Azriel’s breathing guttered and he felt high on mirthroot, sick from fae wine, and enraged to the point of explosion all at once. His blue siphons flared brightly from the surge of power. He closed his eyes and reached out to you through the bond, tugging on the thread connecting your souls. He was coming. He was going to save you.

Rhysand looked to him then, curiosity swimming in his eyes as he took in the Shadowsinger’s sudden stop. Azriel opened eyes, irises alight with fire and shadow, voice grinding with dark threat, “Let’s go.” Rhys nodded and Cassian drew his knives.

They moved with brutal efficiency, killing male after male until none remained alive. Some had begged, others shouted and scattered their belongings as they set into a run. His shadows had caught them, twisting around their ankles and dragging them back to meet their fate, daggers slicing throats from ear to ear until blood poured like a prized hunt being slaughtered, the Illryian’s hands grasping and snapping necks like twigs. It was a practiced routine for the three of them, who’d trained since they were teens.

As they stepped through the shrubs to find you, Cassian gasped and Azriel felt his lungs threaten to collapse at the sight. You’d been shackled to a tree at the wrists and ankles and whipped within an inch your life. Wounds glistened with blood along your thighs, soft stomach, ribs, breasts. There had to be thirty lashes. A knife wound was visible at your exposed navel. Your head hung forward unconscious and Azriel’s heart pounded. He wanted to vomit and his hands shook.

“She said you’d come,” a voice said, emerging from behind the tree you were bound to. The male held a dagger to your throat. This new stranger had to be the leader of this band of idiots. Azriel’s eyes followed the tip of the blade up his arm to the male’s eyes and a growl escaped him as he bared his teeth. The male laughed, “to think she said she was nothing and yet I have both the Shadowsinger and the Lord of Bloodshed before me to save her.”

Azriel’s mind latched on to that piece of information, turning it over in his head. You’d told this male you were nothing? Did you not know Azriel would do anything for you? You were everything. You were his love, light of his life, keeper of his soul, his mate. How alone you must’ve felt, how scared. Azriel’s eyes narrowed, he was going kill him.

Rhysand spoke then, emerging from behind the two Illyrian brothers, “And may I ask why you’ve abducted a member of my court?” He was in High Lord mode, tone bored, fingers picking at his sleeve. The Hybern male’s smile gleamed at the introduction, “just who I was hoping to see!”

“Hybern, the old fool, made a few promises in his last days as King,” the male spoke, digging the blade down to your chest, where it rested over your heart. Azriel stared at the blade, eyes tracing to the the hilt. That was your blade, the one he’d given you when you first arrived in Velaris, the one you wielded against Eris, the one you kept strapped to your thigh. Your own knife had been used against you.

“One of which was that I would inherit these lands after your lot were annihilated.” Azriel wanted to laugh at the male’s words, was he serious? “A dead king cannot honor empty promises,” he ground out eyes shifting to the male’s blue eyes. “A dead and headless king cannot gift you shit,” Azriel spat. The male smiled then, a feline grin growing on his lips. “Precisely Shadowsinger, a dead king cannot give me my due, but this little thing can help.” You’d made a noise then, something akin to a whimper as you came to. Eyes wincing then fluttering open as your irises found Azriel’s immediately, some preternatural magnetism existing between the two of you. Then you looked to Cassian and Rhysand, and your eyes swam with apology.

“She awakens!” The male sang, looking to you. Azriel jumped at the opportunity to send his shadows out while the male’s attention was elsewhere. They traced over the ground to you, circling the tree and working at your binds. He sent two others towards the distracted male. “Who knew the Night Court was so attached to a whore,” the male laughed, “I want my lands,” he fixed Rhysand with a glare, “you can have your plaything back in exchange for my seat, High Lord” he sneered.

Rhysand looked from you to the stranger to the shadow now creeping ever closer to the male. “You must be mistaken,” Rhys said then and Azriel’s shadows wrapped around the male’s neck and wrist simultaneously, whispering violence for touching their mate, forcing the dagger from his grasp and air from his lungs. Azriel tightened them until they heard bones crack in the male’s arm and choked sounds exit his throat, face reddening as oxygen was cut off. “I do not make deals with dim witted cunts,” Rhysand said darkness beginning to surround him, High Lord voice encroaching, “I do not entertain terrorists and I do not take kindly to threats on my family.”

‘Finish him,’ Rhysand said darkly into Azriel’s mind and the Shadowsinger moved with lightening precision, dagger find purchase as the male’s neck was sliced open and his right hand was removed from his body. The male’s body toddled forward with a choked gurgling, before falling to the ground, lifeless, blood pooling.

Azriel’s gaze fell to you and he softened. His shadows finished picking the lock of the shackles that held your arms and they clicked open, allowing your body to fall into his. “Azriel,” you breathed, voice weary with exhaustion, “I didn’t— I—“ you stuttered, pulling a shaking hand to his face. You swallowed, tracing his cheek with trembling fingers, “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” you murmured, your watery eyes searching his face, memorizing the details of his visage.

Azriel picked you up in his arms and unfurled his wings protectively. “I will always come for you,” he said vehemently, eyes watching your face with intensity. You smiled, a weepy trembling smile as you nodded. Rhysand reached the Shadowsinger’s side then and your eyes moved to his violet ones, “Hi Little One, I’m so sorry we’re late.” You let out a single watery laugh before wincing as the sudden expansion of your chest burned the wounds littering your chest and back.

“The arrows,” you gasped, “at my back,” you twisted in Azriel’s hold, “please get them out.” Rhysand leaned down to inspect the wounds. “Faebane,” he surmised, that’s why his connection to you had been severed. “We need to get her to Madja, now.” Azriel nodded, allowing Rhys and Cassian to move closer so the High Lord could winnow them home.

Landing back at the House of Wind had been chaotic. Rhysand shouted immediately to get every healer available and the dining room table had been lined with a sheet, turning the warm family room into a medical ward. You were laid facedown on the table and Azriel took to your side, scarred hands touching your face, keeping you awake as Madja worked to remove the six arrows burrowed in your body.

You’d screamed. The sound would haunt Azriel for centuries. You begged to make it stop and Madja had apologized softly as she worked faster to remove them while minimizing damage. “I’ve got you,” Azriel said softly, “eyes on me, alright?” He rubbed the hollow under your eye with a scarred thumb and you opened your eyes to lock on his. “No gloves,” you said, smiling tightly, before wincing as Madja applied local anesthetic to an arrow wound. Azriel smiled, eyes a little watery. “Not with you,” he whispered shaking his head, “never with you.” You smiled at him and the sight set Azriel’s heart to fluttering.

Later, after the arrows had been removed and wounds bandaged, you’d been given a strong herb tonic for pain that set your head swimming as exhaustion overtook you. Azriel carried you his room, laying you gently onto the mattress and covered you with the duvet. He leaned down then, breathing in your scent as he placed a kiss to your forehead, nuzzling his nose to the Winter white hair there. He would tell you. When you awoke, he would bare his soul to you.

You woke with a groan. Fucking Gods, your body ached with the effort it took to roll over. “Easy,” a voice came from the corner of the room. Your breath gasped out of you as your eyes raced to the figure there. “Azriel,” you breathed. The male smiled warmly at you and stepped forward to rest at the edge of the mattress. You pushed up in the bed, the wound at your shoulder screaming from the exertion. Once in a sitting position, you rested your back on the headboard as you looked at him. “For taking out a small militia, you seemed to be decently uninjured,” you said smiling tightly, memories of the stranger and his whip haunting your mind. He snorted a small laugh, “Yes well,” he looked down then, thumbs fiddling with each other, chest heating, “I had something worth fighting for.”

He looked back to you and your cheeks had grown pink, a small pleased smile at your lips. “I heard you, you know,” he said softly, turning enough to rest a hand on your thigh, thumb drawing small, soothing circles there. The heat generated in the touch sent a spark to your belly. Oh, you were fucked. “I heard you in my head, through the bond,” he said eyes watching his thumb as it traced on your bare skin hypnotically.

“You know then?” You whispered, breath skittering out of you. You were scared to death of the trajectory the conversation was taking, your heart preparing for the best and the worst simultaneously. Azriel’s eyes dragged up your form to your face and a smile broke over his lips, one that caused your heart to ignite. Your Mother had once told you the heart was an organ of fire and you’d laughed, never having cause to believe such a statement. You understood now.

“I—“ Azriel started, before clearing his throat, turning his body to face you in full, a knee pulled up on the mattress, touching yours. “In the whole time I have known you— two centuries, Little One,” he looked at you pointedly, “you have been my dearest friend, my greatest comfort, my confidant, and the person I admire most in this Gods forsaken world.” He breathed deeply, a whoosh exiting his lips as his hand tightened around your thigh. “The times when you were lost to me have been some of the most painful moments I’ve experienced.”

Your eyes began to water, and you moved a hand to rest atop his own, thumb circling the scarred skin at his wrist. He took a breath then and the air shifted between you, his mouth opening and closing, as if he was gathering his confidence for what he was about to say next. “I have loved for you so long that I’d given up all hope of reciprocation.” The words shattered through you as all air escaped your lungs, guts swooping down as heat alighted there. “I felt the bond the night Eris came for you,” he continued, eyes watching your entwined hands. Your body went still and a startled laugh exited your mouth. Azriel’s eyes flew to yours questioningly.

“Sorry,” you chuckled again, “I’m just realizing how fucking stupid we’ve been.” You lolled your to the side, watching him with loving eyes. “I’ve been in love with you for almost two centuries, Azriel,” you smiled, “I thought you wouldn’t want me.” Azriel’s eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing in disbelief, two then three times. You thought for a second to compare him to the guppy fish that swam in schools along the banks of the Sidra but refrained.

He pushed forward then, hands coming to cup your face, pinky and ring fingers resting in the hollow below your ear, thumbs stroking your cheeks. “How could I not? You’re everything,” he whispered, searching your face, conviction showing in his eyes. You couldn’t stop the smile that overtook your mouth as you spoke, “and you’re my mate.” His eyes moved to your lips, glazing before they moved back to your eyes. “As you are mine,” he spoke confidently.

Your eyes watched each other for a long second, “I really hope you’ll kiss me this time,” your hand trailed up his arm, fingers teasing. “Mother knows I’ve been dreaming of it for far too long.” He surged forward, lips meeting yours and you thought you might float away. You gasped and his tongue moved in, claiming your mouth, your taste with his own.

He pulled away minutes later, a little breathless, “Sorry to have kept you waiting, my love,” he spoke, resting his forehead to yours with a smile, watching your dazed expression, pink cheeks, as your lips split into a grin. Your hand moved to the front of his button down, fisting in the material there, giving an experimental tug. “Kiss me like that again and I’ll consider forgiving you.”

The laugh that came out of him was golden, and you pushed yourself to memorize it. Azriel, Lord of Shadows, Spymaster for the Night Court, Rhysand’s right hand and Illyrian warrior was soft for you. He loved you. He was your mate. You’d be giddy about it for the rest of your life.

Your healing had been slower than you would’ve liked. The faebane had done serious damage but with Madja’s help, the scarring was minimized. The lashes at your front took two weeks to heal, the arrow wounds took three. Three fucking weeks. Meanwhile all you could think about was your mate. He hadn’t left your side in the interim. Helping you take steps, applying the wound creams that Madja had left in small glass pots, keeping you fed, making you laugh, telling you how much he loved you daily. Mother above, you were going to ruin this male.

You walked into the kitchen at the end of week three, the only evidence of your wounds now in the slight limp of your right leg and twinge in your left shoulder. The marks at your stomach and chest had diminished into barely there, silver scores. Cassian was sitting at the small table in the corner as you entered. “Hi Cass,” you greeted, “seen my mate around this morning?” It was fun calling him that, a small part of your chest swelling with pride each time.

Cassian smirked, “He’s been…… out.” Your eyes narrowed, he was being evasive. “Out where?” You asked, grabbing an apple and hopping up on the counter to watch the male. He shrugged, “No idea, Little One.” You smirked, “I know where you sleep Cassian,” you started, “is it really wise to lie to me?” Nesta strode into the kitchen, “What’s he done now?” She asked laughing. “Hey! I’ll have you know I’ve done nothing!” The male exclaimed, “She’s interrogating me on the whereabouts of her maaate.” He dragged out the vowel of the last word mockingly. Nesta took her seat next to Cassian and laughed, “Ah, him.” She looked to you then, “he’ll be around to collect you soon.”

You looked between the two, suspicion dripping from your features as you took another bite from the apple in your palm. “You two are being weird,” you stated. Nesta shrugged, nudging Cassian who smiled at her. “Just wait,” she said softly, “maybe cook yourself a meal.” Cassian’s mouth quirked with a laugh he restrained. “Right, I’m leaving, cause whatever this is,” you waved a hand at them, “is deeply odd.” You hopped off the counter and strolled to the exit. You heard them laughing softly once you were out of the room, making you roll your eyes at their antics.

You’d gone to the library after leaving the kitchen and found Elain already there. Her eyes moved to you upon your entrance and she closed her book, middle finger marking her spot. “How are you feeling?” She asked softly, eyes surveying your body for lingering damage. You sighed, falling into the sofa across from her. “I’m better,” you said quietly, “the pain is gone, scars are minimal.” You turned your eyes to her, she looked brighter than the last time you’d seen her. “How are you?” You asked in return. She smiled sweetly. “Better,” she echoed you and you wanted to laugh. “I’ve been exchanging letters with Lucien,” she added and your ears perked up.

“That’s great, Elain,” you rest your chin on a closed fist, watching her. She shifted and sat her book to the side, page forgotten. “I want to tell you something,” she said quietly, fingers twiddling with each other. She looked... nervous? “I’m all ears,” you said softly.

“I had a vision while you were gone,” she started and took a deep breath. “It was so muddled at first, I couldn’t tell who it was, but then I saw you. Your hair was longer, you stood taller, and your belly was round.” The breath left your body in a powerful exhale. She looked to you again, eyes watching yours, “You were pregnant and happy and in love,” she said quietly, as if the words in themselves were fragile. Your hands trembled and you moved them under your thighs, her eyes didn’t miss the action.

“I couldn’t understand why the Mother would send me a vision like that, I saw Feyre’s pregnancy, but we’re sisters, you know?” You nodded. “Then I realized I recognized the tattooed arm I’d seen wrap around you, knew it was Azriel.” Your eyes watered, and you hiccuped out a small laugh. “I’ve known for a while you two were fated, but the Mother was telling me for certain. I hope you know how happy we are for you.” She finished and moved to sit next you, small hand touching your knee.

“When they brought you in that night, I thought the Mother had lied to me, that it was a vision of what could have been, that you wouldn’t make it.” You’d never heard Elain speak at length in this way, and you thought you might stop breathing. “I’ve never been happier to see you than when Azriel brought you in to read days later, my sweet friend.” You surged forward, throwing your arms around the female and she returned the gesture warmly.

You sat back and looked at her then. “Thank you,” you said, voice small, a little watery. She nodded before turning to resume her original spot at the end of the sofa, picking up her book and opening it to the page she’d left off.

In the hours that followed, you’d returned to the kitchen, grateful to find Cassian and Nesta had left. You took Nesta’s advice, gathering the ingredients to build a small berry tart. It had just gone in the oven when your mate appeared in the doorway.

“Hello love,” he said casually, leaning against the door jamb. You startled, turning on your heel to find him smiling at you. “Where have you been?” You asked walking towards him and running your hands around his midsection in a hug, head resting against his chest. His arm came around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your hair, breathing in your scent. “That, my dearest one, is a surprise.”

You looked up chin resting against his chest, watching his face. “It’d better be good, I baked for you,” you said, smiling softly at the Spymaster. His eyes moved to the oven then and back to you, irises darkening, as his pupils blew a little wide. “You… baked?” He asked disbelieving, “didn’t know you knew how to bake,” he followed up playfully. You gasped and shoved him, “for that, you can starve, have fun finding another mate to bake for you.” He laughed heartily and caught your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, eyes swimming with warm affection as he pressed a kiss there. Gods, the action made lust swoop in your stomach, heat spreading.

“The fool I’d be to turn away such a female,” he said, voice deepening, lips running across your knuckles with each word. “Azriel” you breathed. “Yes?” He offered in return, still smiling, moving your knuckles back and forth against his hot mouth. “Please tell me this surprise involves you bedding me.” A growl creeped out of his throat, the thought of you under him sending lust racing down his spine and to his groin.

“It might,” he said quietly, lips resuming their exploration, tracking small kisses from your knuckles, to the joint of your thumb, the inside of your wrist where Rhys’ tattoo lingered, up the soft skin of your arm, to your elbow, until he reached the skin of your shoulder. His lips traced over the raised skin there, a small nip above the scar as he traced north to your collarbone. You’d gone to putty in his hands, head rolling to the side to bare your throat. He pressed soft kisses there, pausing at your pulse point to trace the area with his warm tongue, a whimper escaping your mouth.

“If this is going to become a regular thing, I’ll need you two to relocate to the River House,” a voice came from behind you and you jumped in shock, but your mate, he let out a possessive growl before turning on the intruder. Rhysand laughed airily and folded his arms over his chest. “Easy, brother,” he smiled, causing Azriel to roll his eyes. You blinked a little dazed, and pulled away from the Shadowsinger. “You’re gonna make me burn my fucking tart,” you shoved him with an arm and laughed as you turned to resume your place at the oven.

Azriel instructed you to dress comfortably and be ready in a hour as he kissed your knuckles one last time and exited the kitchen. Butterflies roamed freely in your stomach at the thought of what he had planned. You’d returned to your quarters after removing the tart from the oven and portioning it into a small travel sized container. You were going to accept the bond, and your nerves were alight with anxious excitement. After you dressed in a lightweight linen dress, you packed a small bag with your remaining creams, and the boxed tart you’d prepared earlier.

You descended the stairs to find Azriel waiting at the base, his wings standing proudly behind him, shadows skittering around his feet. At the sight of you they raced to meet on the bottom step, running up your legs, around your waist and into your hair. A laugh escaped you as one nuzzled into the space behind your ear. Azriel watched fondly. “They love you,” he said smiling, taking a step to meet you, “ever since the bond snapped, I’ve had the hardest time reining them back from touching you.”

You reached a hand out to meet his, interlacing your fingers. “They’re cute, but you’re cuter,” you said with gentle affection. A shadow pinched at your waist and Azriel’s cheeks went a little pink as he laughed.

“Will you tell me what the surprise is?” You asked as he walked you toward the training balcony. “I’m afraid I’m very poorly dressed for training,” you joked. He snorted, “no, we’re not training.” He came to rest at the railing and then turned to you, running a hand up your arm, fingers moving to hold the back of your neck, warm palm heating the skin there, thumb grazing your jawline. “Amongst many things I’ve been terribly late for recently, I realize I owe you a date.”

Your face went a little puzzled and you looked to his eyes. “A date?” You questioned. He nodded, “I was supposed to take you flying.” Realization dawned on your features and a smile overtook your lips, each tooth shining in the setting sun. “I wanted to kiss you that night too,” you admitted laughing, remembering how desperate you’d been for his touch and attention. He smiled softly, “you have no idea how angry I was with Rhys for calling me away.” Your eyes widened, still in disbelief that this male wanted you return. It seemed both a millennia in the making and still so new and fragile.

Azriel snuck an arm around your waist and brought you up into the stretch of his firm body. His other hand tracing down your hip, then thigh, to curve under your knees as he picked you up. His wings unfurled and he shot into the air. A shaky laugh startled out of you and you gripped him tighter, your arms winding around his neck. His wings flapped in thunderous bursts, taking you higher, until you could see the entirety of Velaris spread below, the Sidra flowing like a snake through the winding city. Your breath left you in awe. “The Peregryn was right,” you said loud enough for him to hear and he smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple.

The flight was short, but it took you to the rural banks of the Sidra on the outskirts of the city, just before it emptied into the sea. You could see ships sailing into the harbor, moonlight beginning to trickle across the water. This was undeniably special, you thought, no one would see you up here and you felt like this was the edge of the world itself. You turned to Azriel, finding his eyes already watching you. “Thank you,” you said softly, leaning into him, his chin meeting your forehead as you moved your body to rest alongside the length of his. His hand came to rest at the small of your back, pinky stretching to graze the curve of your bottom. Wherever this was going, you were very interested.

He turned and grasped your hand, pulling you back up the hill and away from the view, towards a field of wildflowers and grasses. There, in the middle, a blanket had been laid out, small candles lit to illuminate the setting. A basket sat in one corner, a bottle of fae wine held within with an assortment of pastries, breads, and cheeses. You realized quickly that your mate, the male you’d loved for damn near two centuries, was courting you. The thought thrilled you.

He led you to the blanket and motioned for you to sit next him. “I must confess, I never took you for a romantic,” you said looking from the candles, to the basket, and then to him. He was watching you again. He smiled, laughing a bit nervously, “I’m a lot of things,” he said and your eyebrow quirked. “Oh yeah? Like what?” You challenged him and he loved you for it. You made him feel easy to love, you made loving fun and freeing. Azriel had once only thought freedom could be found in fucking and flying, then he’d found you and he knew it was there too. In the smile of your lips, in the thrill of your touch, in the ease of your love.

“Well,” he started, moving his wings to lean into you, pressing a kiss to your exposed shoulder. The action caused you to shiver. “I’m a spymaster.” You snorted, “no shit.” A laugh rumbled in his chest. “I’m a bit shy as you well know, I’m quite fond of dancing, I’m—” he hummed the last letter, pausing his thoughts and moving his lips up your neck. “I’m in love with you,” he said biting into the flesh at the juncture of your collarbone and throat, cock hardening at the sound that rolled out of your mouth. “I’m going to take you right here, on this blanket, under the stars.”

You gasped, your hands moved find purchase in the hair at the back of his head, fingers winding through the strands, nails dragging at his scalp. His nose ran the length of your jawline before his lips found yours. He rumbled a small hum the instant his mouth touched your own. At first it was a gentle press, teasing you as he had done today in the kitchen at the House of Wind. The adrenaline racing up your spine made you feel like you might vibrate out of your skin. His hand reached up then, threading broad fingers into your hair as he took the kiss deeper. Tonguing the bottom of your lip until your mouth opened, his tongue stroking your own. Humming with contentment, he tilted your head, deepening the kiss at a new angle that had heat swooping down to your core.

You brought your left hand to his shoulder, fisting your fingers in the fabric there and pulling him closer. He understood your intention and leaned you back into the blanket, pleasure alighting each nerve as his body pressed into your own. He eased up on your lips and began a slow trek south, pulling the strap of your dress down the curve of your shoulder, leaving a love bite there that had you gasping. He kissed down the bust line of the dress, laving his tongue at the swell of your breast. Your breath was coming in pants and you pressed yourself up on your elbows as he moved further south, fingertips tracing the hem of your dress that had risen to the middle of your thigh.

He looked back to you and smiled, mischief playing in his eyes as he ran his hands up your thighs, the slow drag pulling the dress with it. “I’ve been thinking about your cunt for centuries,” he said, his lips on your knee, pressing insistently as they moved north. “I’ve been dreaming of making you come on my tongue since I met you.”

Your breath leaves you in one fell swoop as you feel his tongue at the juncture of your hip and thigh. His mouth was insistent at skin there, tonguing the lace of your panties before pulling them down your legs and off entirely. He picked up a foot, placing it to his chest as he traced the long line of your body with hungry eyes. You were panting already, dressed rucked up around your waist, straps fallen down your arms and breasts heaving. His gaze flowed south and landed on your pink cunt, glistening, begging for him. His eyes went back to your face then, and his titled his head to the side, “Will you let me eat your pretty little cunt?” He asked fingertips tracing the scars of your calf with reverence. He brought your foot up, kissing the inside of the ankle, then nosing his way over your scarred calf, suckling at the skin there. “Please,” he added, eyes moving back to yours as his mouth continued his ministrations.

“Mother above, Azriel,” you breathed and a laughed startled out of you, “you are mouthy.” He chuckled darkly then, nipping at your knee, taking special care to press a gentle kiss at the new scar there. “Is that a no then?” He said softly and your head fell back with a groan, exposing your neck to his view. “As if,” you said, head pulling back up and lolling to the side to rest on your shoulder. “I’ve thought about it too, and if you back out now I will explode.” He laughed again, freely this time, forehead resting on your thigh.

His eyes find yours again, and he kept them there as he traced his lips north. He nosed the juncture of your cunt and inner thigh, running a tongue along your mound. You gasped and eyes narrowed, watching him with rapt attention. He pressed a kiss to the top of your slit and his hands come up to open you to him, pulling the lips apart and tonguing the collected moisture there. Your head fell back as your elbows gave way, falling flat against the blanket.

“You taste better than I imagined,” he said before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. The moan that left you had his hips pushing into the ground to find relief as his cock begged for release. His tongue flicked against your clit as he sucked and hummed. He thought this might become his favorite place in all of Prythian. He thought that every bad thing that had happened in his life seemed insignificant now that he was able to worship freely between your thighs. He traced fingers up and paused to wet them on his tongue, before pushing his middle and ring finger in to the second knuckle, pulling them out and scissoring them back in again. His tongue found your sweet little button for a second time that night and he laved at it, listening to your cries as he pushed you to the brink. Azriel’s life had been a nightmare, but between your thighs, mouth on your cunt, walls fluttering around his fingers, he thought he’d been blessed by the Mother herself.

Your hips rocked up in time with his fingers and you cried as your gut twisted, the coil there tightening. “Az-“ you gasped. “Azriel,” you went a little whiny on the vowels of his name, and your hand reached down to thread your fingers into his hair, nails scratching and tugging the strands. He hummed, the vibration sending shocks up your spine. “Azriel, baby,” you gasped, coming up on an elbow again, rutting your hips into his face as he took you higher. He didn’t let up, suckling at your cunt, fingers finding the spongy spot on the backside of your clit that made the world go blank “Azriel!” you gasped again, hips stuttering out, “Fuck, fuck— oh.” In seconds you were reaching your peak, hips faltering, thighs twitching, toes curling into the hard planes of his back.

He pulled his mouth off of you, pressing kisses to your pubic bone as he moved north up your stomach. He eyes were alight with desire, the male was pure want and you were his last meal. He pulled his fingers from your cunt and trailed them up to rest at your neck as he slotted his body between your thighs and kissed you. The hedonism of tasting yourself on his mouth made you wetter, cunt pressing into the hard line of his cock, still restricted in his trousers. He moaned at the contact, mouth leaving yours to rest his head against your chin and gather himself. The sound sent a pleasurable shock directly to your core. You grasped the hand at your throat and brought his fingers up and to your mouth, tongue laving at them before taking them to the knuckle, and pulling back slow, hollowing out your cheeks and sucking, keeping your eyes on his. He bared his teeth the sight and ground his hard cock into you, the friction on your clit making your thighs twitch.

“My sweet little mate,” he cooed. “Love of my life,” he nosed your cheek, his fingers still in your mouth. “All my dreaming has been put to shame it would seem,” he pulled his fingers from your mouth and replaced them with his tongue, his hands flying to his belt. He growled in struggle and you ventured a laugh. His eyes found yours and his jaw ticked, “keep laughing, sweet girl, I’ll fuck your throat next and you won’t come.” Your eyes went a little wide and a feline grin appeared on your face. “Mouthy indeed,” you said with glee as he finally got the buckle undone and pushed the pants down and off.

His shirt went next and your fingers traced up his exposed arms to his shoulders. “I’ve seen you shirtless a dozen times, and you still take my breath away,” you said softly, a hand resting on his pectoral. He laughed and went a little pink, before he pushed your dress up your body and over your head, leaving you bare. “I’ve always been impressed by your ability to so disarming,” he said, mouth finding the space above your breast as his hands came to cup them, fingers toying with the nipples. “It’s my favorite thing about you, you see me in a way I can’t even see myself,” he followed up.

Your eyes watered at the admission and your hands found his face, bringing his mouth back to yours as you kissed him again, tongue entwining with his. Your hands grasped his shoulders, as your leg found his hip and you pushed him over, onto his back. Your hands came to rest on his chest as you settled your weight on his lower abdomen. You could feel his manhood standing to attention, insistent at the curve of your ass and you reached around to grasp it, pushing your chest out for his greedy eyes. Taking him in long strokes, you ran your hand up and down, circling your thumb around the head. His eyes screwed shut as his breathing shallowed.

“Wanna know a secret, baby?” You offered, rocking your hips in time with your strokes. He whined then, the Lord of Shadows keened a little whine for you that had you ready to come right there. “Last time we hosted a gala, that night before Hybern,” you were panting, “all I could think about was taking you to bed.” His eyes opened and hazel was gone blacked out in pure desire. His hands found your hips and his own began to move in time with you. “I thought about riding you,” you said, twisting your hand in a way that had his breath guttering out of him. “I thought you might love me in the way you looked at me.” His eyes softened and he leaned up, hands tracing up your spine as he pressed kisses to your chest.

“I loved you that night and every night since,” he said before tonguing a nipple and sucking it into his mouth. “That dress you wore, my color, had me hard for a week.” You laughed then removing your hand from his cock and bringing both to his face, so you could kiss him. His hands slipped to your ass then, palming the cheeks as his tongue moved in tandem with yours. When you moved back from him, a string of salvia still connected you two, you reached up to comb fingers through his hair gently.

“I brought you something,” you said quietly, looking to the corner of the quilt where your bag had dropped ages ago. His brow furrowed, confusion showing in his features. “You don’t have to, but I brought some of that tart. If you want,” you offered the statement nervously, as if there was still a chance for rejection. Azriel’s heart went soft and his brain turned to mush.

“You want to accept it?” He questioned, hands sliding up your back and to your waist. You smiled and looked at him incredulously, “Of course I want to accept it, it feels like I’ve waited a millennia for you.” You’d laughed a bit and that feeling of home raced through him again. Gods, he was fucked.

You leaned off his lap, pulling the strap of your bag to you and unzipped it. There, packaged in a little glass container, lay a small slice of the berry tart you’d fretted over earlier in the day. “Nesta made some stupid comment about ‘cooking’ when I’d asked where you were,” you laughed in hindsight at the female’s leading words. “She knew because Cassian knew, he helped me with the food and candles,” Azriel murmured pushing your hair up and over your shoulder.

He pulled the container from your grasp then and opened it before picking the pastry up with his fingers, the same fingers that had been inside you minutes ago. Eyes on yours he took the first bite, your heart thrumming as the golden thread of your bond lit up like the sunrise. His eyes never left yours as he consumed the pastry in four bites, swallowing and pulling his fingers into his mouth at the remaining sweetness there.

The bond between you two was shining, strong and thrumming with love. ‘Hi,’ you tried, your thoughts reaching out to him. He smiled, laughing freely, and his voice came through clearly, ‘Hi, Little One.’ You choked out a laugh, eyes watering as you leaned forward to kiss him, tasting the berries on his tongue. ‘Can I make love to my mate now?’ He questioned down the bond and you laughed again. His hands were already tracing your hips as you leaned forward, hand reaching underneath to guide him into your cunt. Lowering yourself down, you rocked forward once then twice in order to take him to the hilt.

Mother above, he was big. His cock was thick and filled you wholly, pushing against your cervix making your eyes flutter in pleasure. You thought of the comment Mor had made about wingspan once decades ago and you heard him laugh, “I’m flattered, truly,” he said playfully, reading your thoughts and nipping at your shoulder.

You rose up again and set to riding him slowly, hips moving in long strokes as his hands traced your ass, pulling at the flesh there in time with your movements. You gave a experimental squeeze of your walls, and he keened a loud moan that had you speeding up your flow. “You keep that up, Little One and I won’t last,” he panted at your throat. “That’s rather the point,” you laughed breathlessly, your own hand moving to cup your breast, the other sliding down to circle your clit. His eyes traced the view greedily, moving down to the point where you connected, watching your cunt take him in full, his cock glistening with your shared wetness. He bared his teeth at the sight, a rumble lighting in his chest.

Just as your walls began to flutter with your impending orgasm, he grasped you and flipped you to your back, pulling your hands from your body and entwining your fingers with his own on each side of your head. He ground his pelvis in deep and your legs hitched higher around his waist. “Azriel, fucking Gods,” you called out at the switch in angle, the tip of his cock grinding into your cervix. He hummed at your throat, teeth marking you there as his hips pulled out and pushed in, grinding each time he bottomed out into you. His wings flared behind him and you thought you’d never seen a more beautiful sight.

“You take me so well, my love,” he panted, “you were made for me.” You whined then, cunt fluttering around him as he bottomed out deep and held it there, grinding his pubic bone into your clitoris. The pleasure raced up your spine and you thought you’d never be able to leave this place, might have to keep him inside you forever. He growled, reading your thoughts. “You want me to fuck this cunt forever?” He asked aloud leaning up, pulling his hands from yours.

You whined at the loss, but the sound died as he pulled your legs up his waist to his shoulders, kissing the scarred calf. He drew his cock out, only to slam back in. “Fuck,” you moaned out, voice going up two octaves. “You want me between your thighs for the rest of my days?” He said again, hips moving faster, your hands moving to your tits as they bounced from the impact. His eyes watched the movement and he bared his teeth again, turning his head to bite into the flesh of your calf.

“Azriel!” You called out again, pleasure zipped up your spine and you felt your stomach tighten. “Az, baby, I’m so close.” He chuckled darkly. “Be a good girl and come on my cock,” he said as his fingers traced down your leg to find your clit, rubbing the bundle in quick, timed circles. “Az- I-,” you barely got the words out before your orgasm overtook you, a long moan exiting your mouth as your cunt tightened around him, he ground into you and worked you through it, before dropping your legs back to his hips and pistoning deeper.

“My sweet mate,” he gasped at the skin of your throat, mouth tracing up to find yours, hands finding purchase on your thighs as he pulled you open, allowing him dive deeper. “My darling love,” he moaned and his tongue moved with yours, your hips pushing up to meet his thrusts, walls fluttering against his velvet length with the remnants of your orgasm.

You ventured your hand up his shoulder to the base of a wing and traced your fingers up the membrane to the bone. His eyes twisted shut, and he keened a low primal whine that had your cunt ready to come again. At the tightening of your walls, he groaned dark and deep, shadows seeping from him, as he pushed in, grinding against the innermost portion of you. His hips pulled out slightly and then pushed back in as his cock kicked, come spurting against your walls. He panted against your throat as his hands released their hold on your thighs and moved up your body before grasping your throat. He moved up to lean over you and his eyes found your own. He gave an experimental thrust of his hips and your eyes widened. Fucking Cauldron, he was still hard.

He laughed then, nuzzling at your mouth as he nipped at your bottom lip. “I’m giving you five,” his voice was deeper than you’d ever heard it, “and then I’m eating my come from your cunt and fucking you until the sun comes up.”

You gasped out a laugh as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. ‘They call it frenzy for a reason,’ you thought, kissing along his cheekbone and to his mouth. Gods, you were fucked.

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jeannineee · 8 months

Text

Closure

Azriel x Reader

a/n: requests are open!! Comment if you wanna be tagged for part 2. Quickly proofread, sorry for errors!!

PART TWO

warnings: angst, very slight smut (18+ please)

The House of Wind was quiet at this hour, save for the thunder cracking outside, coupled with heavy rain pelting the windows.

You stood at the marbled kitchen counter, filling your glass of wine for a third time. You grimaced slightly as the wine coated your tongue, dry and bitter. Not your favorite, but it’ll get the job done—getting drunk, that is.

Just as you sat your glass down, footsteps sounded behind you. Not heavy like Cassian’s. Not light like Mor’s. No, these footsteps were almost inaudible. But you would recognize the sound from anywhere. The same way you recognized the cool air of his shadows before they came into view, before they slithered along your arms, toyed with your hair.

Azriel.

His strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in. Leaning into his touch was instinctual; a reflex.

You cursed yourself for it. Hated yourself for it.

“You didn’t come to my room tonight,” the Shadowsinger spoke against your skin, his voice warming you, wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

You didn’t answer at first. Any response you had previously thought out caught in your throat, and you swallowed the words down before you could embarrass yourself with them.

What were you to tell him?

In the last few months, you’d agreed to share his bed. You’d go to one another when you needed release, and leave when all was said and done. Nothing further. No strings attached. Your centuries of friendship would remain intact.

So, when he’d begun showing interest in Elain, you kept your mouth shut. His moments with her didn’t go beyond polite, friendly conversation, but you could see the way his eyes lit up each time he spoke to her. He liked her very much. Loved her, perhaps.

You were foolish to believe it would be anything more than sex. Your feelings for Azriel were only magnified each time you went to him. Like some lovesick puppy, desperate for any affection that he would give you.

No strings attached, you’d remind yourself after each encounter. Azriel’s first rule.

The only other rule? Be completely honest with one another. If either of you wanted to stop? Say it. If either of you wanted to see someone else? Say it.

You’d broken both rules.

Azriel pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, jolting you from your thoughts. “I can feel the gears turning in your head. Talk to me.”

You swallowed thickly. Once. Twice. “I was too tired tonight.”

“That’s never stopped you before,” Azriel replied, turning you to face him. He gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head back until your eyes met his. “I know you. I know when something is bothering you. Talk to me.”

Despite how much you wanted to, you couldn’t break his stare. Did he even know? The things you would do for him? The love you bore for him?

No. He didn’t know. That would be cruel—to string you along and use you for your body, knowing you wanted more than that.

Finally, you loosed a breath, repeating your previous lie, as easily as breathing. “I was tired, Az.”

Azriel silently studied you for a moment, as though he was dissecting you, trying to pick out the pieces within that might hold the truth. The hand he had on your chin moved to the side of your neck, his thumb tracing the column of your throat. You knew he felt your breath hitch.

You prayed to the Mother that he would stop touching you like that. It wasn’t fair—this hold he had over you. How easily he could make you weak. Make you vulnerable.

His grip on your neck tightened ever-so slightly, and you couldn’t halt the breathy whimper that fell from your lips. “Azriel…”

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against yours.

The sheer need in his voice made your spine tingle. “Azriel,” his name was almost a whisper; a plea. You arched into him as his free hand found your breasts, tracing around your nipples with his thumb until they formed into stiff peaks.

Azriel’s lips trailed down your neck, your chest. He lowered himself, kissing down your stomach over the thin nightgown you wore as he sunk to his knees before you. He peppered kisses along your exposed thighs, a low growl creeping up his throat as you instinctively parted your legs for him. You were almost too far gone to speak—to think, even. But the moment his hands touched the hem of your nightgown, you tensed.

Azriel noticed immediately, and rose to his feet, worry painting his face. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

Your heart warmed at the concern he displayed for you, but you shut the feeling out as quickly as it came. It was all too confusing—the way he acted with you, only to turn around and go to Elain.

But you and Azriel agreed months ago: just sex, without any attachment.

“I think we should stop. All of this,” you admitted, unable to meet his eyes.

Azriel blinked. “Oh. Was it…” he cleared his throat, taking a step back. “Was it something I did?”

Yes. No. Both. You sighed. “No. I just—I don’t want to do this anymore.”

A half-lie.

Azriel nodded, his expression now unreadable. “Alright.”

Now it was your turn to show surprise. “Is that—that’s it?” The question came out a bit sharper than intended.

“You don’t owe me an explanation. If you want to stop, we stop. No strings attached.”

“Right. No strings attached.” You forced a smile, and Azriel returned it, though it seemed just as fake as yours.

A sudden awkwardness filled the air—something you’d never felt in Azriel’s presence. To your relief, Azriel spoke again.

“I guess I should—I’ll see you in the morning.” Azriel turned away, but stopped just before exiting the kitchen. “You’re still my friend, y/n. Always.”

Friend. Friend. Friend. Just friends.

You couldn’t bring yourself to smile, this time. “Always, Az.”

As he walked down the hall, you wondered if the Cauldron was playing a cruel joke on you.

Perhaps the mating bond could be one-sided.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar headcanon #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acotar angst #Azriel angst #Azriel x reader #Azriel acotar #Azriel #Shadowsinger #female reader #azriel smut #smut #acotar smut

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moviesismylife · 29 days

Text

BAT BOYS react to the ✨pheromone✨ perfume

Note:

I don’t know if y’all have seen the viral pheromone perfume on TikTok, but apparently it’s supposed to make men go craaazzzyy, so I thought I’d make a little post on how I think our favorite bat boys would react to you wearing it✨

Enjoy x

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rhysand

I open the door to my mate’s office, and spot him hunched over some paperwork at his desk. As soon as I enter, his head snaps up to me.

“My love, thank the cauldron you’re here.” He says relived, as he looks me over.

I smile at him. “You needed my help?”

He nods, motioning for me to come over. I swiftly pad over to him, standing next to his chair, where he’s seated. Placing a hand on my hip, he drags me closer.

“Could you help me file all these? Seems there were a lot more than I expected.” He looks at the large pile of papers placed in front of him on the desk.

“Of course.” I say with a little smile.

“Perfect.” He grins back, and pulls me down onto his lap.

I yelp a little at the quick motion, but settle myself comfortably, my back facing his chest. He nuzzles his head in my neck, as he always does, wrapping his arms around my waist.

Flipping my hair to one side, I lean forward to grab a small pile of papers to read over. As Rhys’s nose brushes over my exposed neck, he stills. I hear him sniff. A short pause, then another sniff. And another.

“My love…is this a new perfume?” He asks casually, as he continues to brush his nose over my bare neck.

“Mhm.” Is the only response I give him, as I start to read over the file in my hand.

He sniffs again and again, nuzzling his head further into my neck. Then he uses one hand to angle my head to the side, to give him more access to my pulse point.

“Where did you get this…it smells…” he trails off, continuing to nuzzle my neck.

I smirk a little, knowing the perfume is working.

“Fuck…I don’t know if I’ll be able to do the paperwork.” He runs his nose repeatedly over my neck and collarbone.

I tilt my head to the side to look at him. “Rhys.”

He doesn’t move his head from my neck, letting his hand hold it in place on the other side, so he can have free reign. His other hand moves down and under my dress, trailing up my thigh.

“Rhys…” I say again.

“Hm?” He murmurs into my skin.

“We’re supposed to work.” I say.

“I think we can afford a break.”

“No you can’t-“

In one swift move, he’s moved me from his lap, and shoved me onto the desk, papers flying everywhere, and my legs spread wide.

“Rhys!” I swat his chest, but he only buries his head in my neck again, and moves both hands under my dress.

Giving up, I move my own hand to his hair, grinning a little at my accomplishment. Seems the perfume works.

Cassian

My sword clangs with Cassian’s, as I try to swing at him again. But he recognizes my maneuver, and knocks the sword out of my hand, turning me swiftly, pressing his own blade to my throat. His other hand splays at my front, and he leans down to my ear, whispering. “Nice try princess.”

I roll my eyes, and try to get out of his grip, but his strong arms keep me caged. I’m about to speak, when I hear him sniff my neck. I feel his head nuzzling deeper, and then another sniff, as his nose brushes my skin.

His sword drops to the ground, but he keeps me caged in his arms. The hand that was gripping the sword, now coming to hold the back of my neck.

“Fuck what is that.” He curses as he inhales the scent of my neck again.

“A new perfume I got from Mor. You like it?” I ask, grinning knowingly.

“Sweetheart I love it.” He sniffs my neck again.

I let out a little laugh. “It’s supposed to make males go crazy.”

He groans in response, his hand on my front, moving to grip my hip harshly. The hand on my neck stays firmly planted, keeping my head at an angle for him.

He runs his nose over my neck, sniffing repeatedly. “Fuck is it supposed to make us hard too? Because that’s what it’s resulted in.” He curses, pushing me flush against him, and I feel the bulge of his pants brushing against my clothed backside.

“I don’t know. The effects were not written on the package.” I say casually, but angle my head more for him.

He groans, and presses into me, making me let out a little moan. “Training’s over.”

Azriel

Standing in the kitchen, I stir through the pancake batter, when I hear Azriel trudging down the stairs.

“Leaving me in bed love? That’s new.” He says, as he comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my middle, and nuzzling his head in my neck.

“I wanted to make pancakes.” I say, simply continuing to stir the batter.

Suddenly I hear him sniff my neck, and run his nose over the exposed skin. He repeats the action a couple of times, tightening his grip on my waist.

“New perfume?”

I smile a little, knowingly, as I answer him. “Mhm. You like it?”

His grip tightens as he draws in a deep breath. He mumbles into my skin, “I love it.”

He continues to run his nose over my skin repeatedly, as if he can’t get enough of the smell.

I chuckle as he does this. “You really like it.” I say, as I push my behind back into his front, leaning back towards him. “Would you like to know what it is?”

“Very much so.” He mumbles, and his grip shifts to rest low on my hips, his hands pressing against the curve of my bottom.

“It’s called pheromone perfume. Supposed to make males go feral.” I smirk to myself knowingly.

His breath becomes heavy, and his grip tightens further. “Clearly it’s working then.” He says, burying his head into my exposed neck again.

“Mhm. Except you’re distracting me right now. I’m trying to make pancakes.”

“I’m not allowed to flirt with my mate?” He says, before nuzzling his nose into the skin just above the nape of my neck, then placing an open mouthed kiss to the spot. His hands are still tight on my hips.

I let out a laugh at that. “Yes you are. But don’t you want pancakes?” I tilt my head a little to the side to give him more access to my neck.

“Pancakes can wait.” He says, one hand leaving my hip to move up to my neck and gently lift my head back, exposing more of my throat. “You can’t though.”

I laugh even more at that, stopping my stirring, and turning around in his grip. “Alright then. If you insist.”

“Oh, I do insist.” He says, moving his hand from the back of my neck, to gently tug my head towards him, as he closes in the distance between us, and kisses me deeply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#acotar #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #bat boys x reader #bat boys react #headcanons

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surielstea · 1 month

Text

Glazed Over Eyes

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader takes care of a very drunk, very clingy Azriel.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol | Fluff

1.9k words

The Inner Circle had gone to Rita’s. I had opted to stay at home with Amren— saying that she couldn’t be trusted to watch Nyx alone as my excuse instead of going to the pleasure hall, besides, I’d much rather be silently doing puzzles while listening to the music coming from beside the bank of the Sidra with the windows wide open.

Feyre and Rhys had come home with pink cheeks, nearly forgetting they shared a house with others, Rhys trying to mount his mate right in front of us. Amren banished them to their room with an annoyed look before returning to the nearly complete puzzle we only started an hour ago.

A moment later, Cassian is stumbling into the room with his arm hooked around a very sober, very annoyed Nesta. She lugs him behind her, he seemed too drunk to fly so they're most likely crashing here for the night. My brows crease when I notice my mate not following in after them. Azriel was hesitant to leave me here in the first place, not wanting to go to some kind of party without me there for him to retreat to when things got too loud. I encouraged him to go, to have fun. I was now worried he was having too much fun.

"Hey Nes?" I call before they can disappear down the hall. She turns to me with creased brows and tired eyes. "Hm?" She asks. "Do you know where Az is?" I ask worriedly, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt, she pales and looks at Cassian who is oblivious to everything but her. "Azriel?" She snaps her fingers in his face and he blinks, waking from his stupor. "Uh, last time I saw him he was cradling a whiskey bottle so it's anyone's guess." He says and I square ny features. "That's reassuring," I whisper. "Sorry, I didn't know I was on babysitting duty for both Illyrians." Nesta sighs as if she's truly let me down. "It's fine, take care of Cass. I'll check Rita's." I wave her off and she nods in thanks. "If you can't find him let me know, I'll help you." She gives me a soft expression and I give her a carefree smile. "Will do." I nod at her, knowing damn well I would be too busy panicking to ask anyone for help if I couldn't find him. She nodded and left down the hall with the huge male draped over her shoulders.

"Sorry Amren, I'll be back," I say, walking towards the front door. "Go, girl. Gods know he's probably found himself in a jail cell by now." She grumbled and I pale. "Comforting, thanks," I mutter before slipping out the door.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Rita's was abnormally loud tonight, or perhaps it was just my lack of intoxication. My brows crease as I scan the pleasure hall for my mate, pulling at the bond connecting us and getting an overwhelming amount of attention back, more than a tug— a pull, towards him.

I don't hesitate to follow the golden tether, leading me right towards the bar.

I spot a familiar head of blonde hair, the girl flirting with the bartender as my mate lays his head down on the bar top.

I push past the crowd, eager to get over to them— shoving drunk males off of me until I finally reach the duo. Mor didn't notice, busy making seductive eyes toward the bartender. I tap Azriel's shoulder and he groans. "I have a mate." He waves me off and I roll my eyes. "I know," I say, he whips his head up and looks at me— eyes widening as he recognizes me. "I'm a genie." He smiled proudly and my brows twitched toward eachother, entirely confused at his giddy behavior. "I wished for you to be here, and now..." He searches for the right words in a long pause. "And now you're here." He finishes and all I can do is blink, bringing the back of my hand to his forehead. "How many drinks did you have?" I tilt my head and he smiles knowingly. "Just one, plus a few more." He shrugs innocently and I release a sigh. "You're drunk." I frown and he scratches the side of his cheek, staring at me blankly.

“I’m not—” hiccup. “Drunk.” He finishes and I arch a brow at him, my stare incredulous. “You’re also not a good liar.” I chastise and he glowers at me, setting his empty glass down on the bar and turning to me fully. “I’m the shadow-master, it’s my job to lie.” He crosses his arms over his chest and I need to refrain from my giggle threatening against my lips. “You’re the spymaster,” I correct and his expression falls.

“Whatever,” He brushes me off. “Words are dumb anyways.” The male grumbles and I laugh at his attitude. His cheeks flush pink and something tells me it’s not due to the alcohol. “You’re so pretty,” He murmurs dreamily and I roll my eyes. “Can you kiss me please,” His hands find mine, pulling me closer with a yearning look. “You’re drunk.” I remind and he groans, head going up to the sky before coming right back down to me. “Drunk on you.” He states as if that makes him any more sober.

I release a soft sigh, rising onto my toes and press a gentle peck to his lips. As I back away he looks at me with a glaze over his eyes, a dumbfounded smile coming to his lips. “That felt good.” He mused and I shook my head in disbelief, wrapping his arm around my shoulders to support him as I dragged him away from the bar and towards the exit. “Bye Mor!” I call back but I doubt she heard me, doubt she even noticed I was there with the way she was talking to the bartender.

Shadows swish around the both of us, causing the crowd to part a path for us, in fear of the shadow singer who, little did they know, was too inebriated to even think about harming anyone.

I lug him out of the bar. “Can’t fly,” He mumbles. “I know,” I pat a hand on his chest reassuringly. “Will you throw up if I winnow?” I look up at him and he takes about three seconds too long to answer. “I suppose there’s only one way to find out.” He shrugs. “Okay just, don’t do it on me,” I instruct and he nods dutifully.

I winnow us back onto the lawn of our house, Azriel’s knees buckling and his hands coming down onto them, leaning over as if he was about to hurl. “You okay?” I press a hand to his back and he nods eagerly, trying to convince himself. I comb his hair back, shadows swirling around the both of us until he’s fully recovered.

Slowly, he stands back up to his full height and drags his feet as we walk up the porch to our house, his arm around my shoulders yet again as he leans most of his weight onto me, wings just barely hovering above the floor as I open the door to our home, pulling him in with me.

“Let’s get you some water,” I say, leading him over to the kitchen and settling him down on a barstool. He sits unstably, staring at me with a stony look. I cautiously back away, afraid he’d tip over without my support, then walk into the kitchen. His eyes follow me with every step I take, shadows swirling around my legs and through my hair.

“Have you always been this pretty?” He asks unprompted, I flush, flicking my eyes up to him as I pour him a tall glass of water. “You’re like, ultra-beautiful—” His words are cut off as he topples over off his chair and crashes down onto the floor.

I pale and set the glass down, rushing towards him and falling to my knees beside his body. He chuckled as he stared up at the ceiling, making me more worried than I should have been. “Are you hurt?” My hand comes to his cheek, scanning for injuries. “From when I fell from heaven?” He raises a brow at me curiously. “From when you fell off your chair.” I correct and he blinks slowly. “Uh,” He mumbles like he has to think about it. “I don’t think so.” He uttered and I giggled, now that I know he was okay. I help him sit up, grabbing the water from the counter and handing it to him.

“I didn’t take you for a clumsy drunk,” I look at him quizzically. “The spymaster is a very quiet, very precise male.” He speaks in the third person. “And very, very, very sneaky.” He adds with a hiccup and I shake my head, making sure he drinks every last drop of the water I gave him.

Once he’s finished I take the glass and help him up. Placing the glass in the sink, he drapes his arms over my shoulders, my hands coming to his forearms as most of his weight now relies on me. “C’mon, you big baby,” I grunt as I haul him towards our bedroom. “Not a baby.” He reminds me like I’ve forgotten. “Sure,” I mumble, pulling him into our room and shutting the door behind us.

He makes the rest of the journey to the bed himself, flopping down onto it. “No sleeping yet,” I grab him by the collar and pull him back upright, beginning to undo the ties of his clothes. He helps me with the undressing, shucking off his leathers as I walk over to the armoire and find a pair of lounge pants, tossing them at him.

He hums a soft tune to help him focus as he pulls the pants up. I wander into the bathroom, open the cabinet, and find a tonic to help with headaches, issued by Madja. I walk back into the room to find him beneath the covers, already half asleep.

“Az,” I call, and his humming halts, head raising to look at me. “This is for the morning okay?” I hold up the small vial and he nods with a soft smile. “You take such good care of me,” He sighs as I climb into the large bed beside him, his arm immediately snaking around my waist and pulling me into him. “I have to return the favor somehow.” I smile up at him, brushing his dark hair from his forehead. “Thank you.” He mutters. I can only nod in reply. He leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead, then he pulls me upward and nuzzles his nose into my shoulder, pressing soft kisses there as well.

I comb my hands through his hair with a nurturing intent. Shadows settle around us, disappearing into the floorboards and corners of the room. Azriel releases a soft sigh of contentment at the feeling of his arms wrapped around me, my warmth consuming him. “Love you.” He murmurs tiredly. “Love you too,” I whisper back, and then his breathing steadies out as if that’s all he needs to hear in order to fall asleep.

Sleep swallowed him entirely, and once I know he’s cared for and safe, only then do I allow myself to fall into a slumber of my own.

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minhosbxtch · 1 month

Text

Snap

Eris x reader

This was longer than I planned but oh well :)

Also if you can spot the Aaron Warner reference you get 10 points

Lmk if I should make a part 2

Warnings: SH by fire, language, drinking?, slight spicy at the end but no smut

Mother, this entire thing was awful. You were pining after Azriel who was pining after Elain who was mated to Lucien.

Elain. You tried to like her and continued to be kind to her but she never failed to piss you off. How did someone with no personality, no fire, have not one, but two great, hard-working males wrapped around her finger.

Why would Azriel want you though? You were the one Rhys told to do all his dirty work. You were his personal hit-man.

You worked up quite the reputation, never failing a job, never getting distracted. You had worked your way into the Inner Circle by being loyal and quite the secret keeper.

But it had its perks. Like right now you were invited to the ball in the Hewn City.

Since people were still arriving you were still standing in front of Nesta who was standing in front of Cassian, to his delight.

You loved them both dearly and wished only for them to be happy, but you were jealous. You wanted what they had, or what Rhys and Feyre had. Someone who would unconditionally love you. Someone that would fight for you. Someone that would burn the world for you.

Hopefully that person being Azriel.

You and Nesta bonded over your love for the villains in stories. You would gossip for hours on your favorite romance books where the hero would fall for the villain, and then get hurt and the villain would be furious and all protective.

Well that was until she found Cassian.

Now it was all 'Sorry I can't I'm going out with Cassian.'

You were happy for them, truly. But you craved that more than anything. Something to fill your loneliness. Someone to fill your loneliness.

Your hands smoothed down the skirts of your black dress as you watched the people dance and drink.

You could see Keir out of the corner of your eye talking to a male. He was unfamiliar to you. He was one of the most beautiful males you'd seen, and that was saying something since you lived with the Bat Boys and Lucien.

Holy shit that's Eris.

You didn't recognize him at first without his long hair. But you had to admit, it brought out the sharpness of his face even more. His golden eyes seemed to pierce through Keir as he towered over the male.

Eris met your eyes and grinned, tilting his head. Clenching your jaw, you pulled your eyes away from him, looking dead ahead at nothing.

You could see him and Keir begin to approach the dais that the throne sat on. Still, you remained staring straight ahead.

You did sneak a glance as he bowed to Rhys and Feyre, which was more of incline of his head. Quickly, you changed your features into a sneer, like you were above having to bow.

But when Eris did come up from "bowing", he wasn't looking at the High Lord or High Lady. No, he was looking at you. His gaze still remained on you as Rhysand welcomed him. He steadily met your eyes, only dropping once to look at the quite revealing gown you had on.

Your blood burned through your veins as you continued to meet his gold eyes.

"Well Eris, you may have a dance with her if you wish since you are clearly so distracted," Rhys said nonchalantly, in the voice of the High Lord.

At once Eris' eyes snapped to Rhysand before saying, "Thank you my Lord," before bowing yet again before starting towards you.

If you hadn't trained yourself to show no emotion you might've turned to Rhysand and laughed.

Sorry, Rhys spoke in your mind, sounding amused.

Fucking hell, you'd have to get Feyre to try to help figure out a way to send a mental death stare. It probably wouldn't have been the best idea to send your High Lord a glare that promised hell in front of Eris, Keir, and the entire Court of Nightmares.

Eris stopped a stair below you and gave you a bow, lower that the one he gave for Rhys and Feyre, before extending his hand to you.

His eyes seemed almost unsure, but since there was an audience you took his hand and before you could move to the floor, he bowed his head and kissed your hand.

It unnerved you. Not that he kissed your hand but his eyes remained on your face the entire time. Even though he wasn't smirking, you could see the male pride in his eyes.

His hand and lips were warm, but a nice, homey kind of heat instead of the sweaty, humid type that Cassian tended to give off.

The Inner Circle's shock was almost tangible. Not just the fact that he kissed your hand but also that he stood a step below you and bowed, far lower to you the the High Lord and Lady.

You were surprised too but you didn't show it.

You. An assassin. A nobody before you worked your ass off to prove yourself to the Inner Circle.

You were still in shock when he swept you to the dance floor before the song began and bowed to you, yet again, but this time it was almost mocking. His smirking face as he bowed, eyes never leaving your face.

He carefully intertwined his fingers with yours before putting his hand on your waist, his sharp eyes never leaving your face.

It didn't make sense. All of the tales of how awful and wicked didn't seem to line up to the male that stood in front of you. The male that bowed to you twice and not once looked at you in a way that made your skin crawl or feel even slightly uncomfortable.

But hell this was nice. Especially the fact that out of everyone in the ballroom he chose you.

The only reason you could even dance was because of your elegance. But that came from being an assassin and learning how to step carefully around the puddles of blood to not get your new shoes bloody.

You looked into his molten eyes as he began to lead you through the steps of the dance. You had a similar sense of etherealness as Nesta, but you had no idea what you were doing. Still, you did not falter. When you did a complicated twirl, Eris was right there, hands warm on your waist, spinning you.

After a grand flourish he caught you as the music ended. You both were panting and your faces were very very very close together.

Too close to look accidental.

You were sure your cheeks were bright red, and not from the dance.

Eris smiled softly and gently pulled you back up, righting you and then stepping away. When no one asked to switch partners he gave you a sly, questioning look to which you nodded.

The song that started playing was much slower and involved a lot less grand flourishes than the previous ones did.

You put both hands on his shoulders as he put both hands on your waist.

Since this one was slower, the only thing you could do was talk since there was not a lot of movement.

The silence was unbearable. Damn it. Why was this so hard? Usually talking and getting information came easy.

Putting on the uncaring facade you said sneering, "Your hair looked better long." You almost groaned out loud, mentally slapping yourself for your poor conversation tactics.

To be honest his hair didn't matter. He looked beautiful either way, but the short hair gave him a cold, sharp, godly look.

He chuckled before saying, "If you liked it better then I'll grow it back out for you. But not as messy as that brute."

"Cassian is nothing even close to a brute, so watch your fucking mouth asshole," you seethed.

Eris gave you a warning look and bent down close to your face to whisper, "Language princess. Only those who cannot express themselves intelligently would resort to such crude substitutions in vocabulary."

Shit your palms definitely were sweaty. And Eris' warmth wasn't helping.

Especially the fact he called you princess.

He, clearly also picked up on your sweaty palms, asking mockingly, "Is it because I intimidate you? Am I making you nervous?"

Mother you had no idea what to say. So, you stayed quiet, glaring at the wall over his shoulder.

"Calm down love. We are all just joking around, are we not?"

"Well if you continue to 'joke around' then you won't have anything to joke around with."

He remained silent at that for a long while.

"There are no words to describe how beautiful you look tonight," he said quietly.

Your eyes widened at the change in conversation before saying the first thing that came to mind. "Are you saying I don't usually look beautiful?"

He smirked and looked you up and down as he said, "No no no. I was just saying, usually I see you in tight, assassin clothes, which those make you look seductive, but right now you look absolutely delicious," his voice dropped at the end of the sentence.

"Well you don't look to bad yourself," you said, cheeks flushed.

Well that was an understatement. He wore a orange sharp cut suit with gold accents that accentuated his muscles. And Mother, his muscles.

They were perfect. He was muscular but lean. He was perfect. Enough to forget about the dark haired, lean handsome male standing on the dais.

"Why thank you love, but I'm afraid I'm nothing in comparison to your loveliness," he said, leaning down to your ear.

Your cheeks were definitely bright red as you said, "Mother you're a shameless flirt," while trying to suppress a smile.

"Well only for you, darling," he said, smirking, "After all, it's not often I'm in the presence of an extravagant goddess."

"Well, I'm certainly not a goddess," you said smiling, your mask cracking.

He feigned a look of surprise, "That's impossible. There's no Fae, Illyrian, or mortal that even holds a candle to your beauty."

You laughed but your smile faded as Cassian approached saying, "Sorry to interrupt you both but Rhysand requires your presence," he said nodding to you.

You give Cassian a nod, before turning to Eris and curtsying mockingly, “Terribly sorry, but my High Lord requires my presence.”

Eris nodded in understanding before saying, “Of course. As long as you save me a couple dances later.”

You turned around to reply, but he was gone. Frowning you walked up towards the dais and curtseyed before asking, “How may I assist you, High Lord, High Lady?”

Rhys just motioned you to take the spot you were in earlier.

Washing your face of any emotion, you did as you were told. Standing on the same step as you did earlier, you could see a sudden flash of red hair.

You shifted slightly but it was not Eris, but Lucien who stood with Elain on his arm. Resisting the urge to smirk at Azriel, you continued to scan the crowd for Eris.

Looking for someone? An amused voice said inside your head.

No. I was seeing if there was any threats. You weren't technically lying, Eris was a son of a rival High Lord, classifying him as someone to keep an eye on.

Like the one you danced with earlier? Rhys said.

You didn't respond but turned around to make eye contact and gave him a glare that had sent men running. His eyes flashed and he shifted in his seat before giving you a warning look.

What? If I dance with him then there's no time to double cross us.

Very well. Just don't let him deceive you. Rhys relented.

You had no intention to let him deceive you. You were stupid for being caught off guard by earlier. A few pretty words and you were reduced to a defenseless, blushing maiden.

No.

You were a fucking assassin, and you let someone get in your head? No, that wouldn't happen again.

Two could play at this game.

After winding through the crowd for several minutes, you still hadn't spotted the Eris Vanserra. All of the butterflies in your stomach had disappeared. Eris was just another of your targets.

Something else to conquer.

That was all.

People had given you a wide berth for the cold, calculated look on your face.

They knew you were hunting.

Several of them had kept their eyes on you as you prowled around the ballroom, trying to find your prey.

After a couple more minutes you gave up and started back towards the dais.

Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian were not up there. Now that you noticed it, they weren't anywhere in here.

They're probably doing business with Eris.

Yes. That would be the most reasonable solution. Still, the unnerving feeling didn't go away, if anything, it got stronger.

People. There were too many people. They crowded you, they were trapping you.

The feeling started in your stomach as an uncomfortable lump. You could feel it spreading. Speeding your heart rate up and making your limbs feel like they weighed ten-fold. The lump in your stomach starting traveled until it was sitting in your throat. Now your stomach felt empty and your throat had an uncomfortable lump in it that prevented you from breathing comfortably.

There wasn't enough air. Your body felt too hot and too cold at the same time. You felt feverish.

Your steps began to pick up speed as you rushed to the set of double doors that led to the hallway outside.

You burst through the door and gulped big breaths of air, nearly panting. The warm, sweaty feeling was left in the ballroom with all the crowds of people.

You sat on one of the benches and leaned your head back against the wall, relishing in the feel of the cool air in the drafty hallway.

Only a couple minutes later, something gave a hard tug in your chest. So forceful it was almost painful. At first, you thought you imagined it before it happened again, more urgently this time. Still, you ignored it, content to sitting on your bench.

After the second tug, you waited a few minutes outside to make sure it was over.

Smoothing your dress and hair you entered the ballroom again to see that Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian were back.

When Rhysand saw you enter he spoke in your mind saying to go join them up on the steps.

After you took your place, Rhys stood up and said in a booming voice, "Terribly sorry to say, but my Inner Circle and I have things to discuss and things to do."

No one cared. Honestly, they were probably happier to see you go just as much as you were to leave.

As one, you and the Inner Circle came together and winnowed out of Hewn City.

As the familiar streets of Velaris came into view you could hear Cassian say, "Mother I need a drink. Who's coming with me?"

Mor snorted before saying, "I already wasn't sober when we got there but I need more after that," she turned to you before asking, "You wanna go to?"

You shook your head before saying quietly, "I don't need a drink, I need some fucking sleep."

Usually you would since Azriel usually went but now you needed to sort through your own mess.

"Of course you do. You were with Eris," she said, looking at you with sympathy.

For some reason that made you angry. Saying nothing you clenched your jaw at her words.

Feyre, Mother bless her, saved you from your anger by saying with a smile, "Here I'm going to go back too. You go enjoy your fun."

Feyre was truly a gift from the Mother.

Only you and Feyre weren't going to Rita's. They all would get brain dead drunk, and poor Azriel had to go be responsible and get them home.

"So... What was going on with you and Eris. I thought you were going to launch yourself at Mor earlier," the High Lady said softly.

Instead of replying, you just took your mental walls down and showed her everything. You knew she was able to sense every feeling you had and at this point you didn't care. It was some much easier than explaining to her.

She remained silent beside you, processing what happened. "Well I think he actually likes you," she started. "Really! When he danced with Nesta he didn't genuinely compliment her like that. Much less bow and kiss her hand," she said at your skeptical look.

"And there's also the fact that he stood on a lower stair then you and then bowed to you. I know you know this, your just ignoring it," Feyre said, calling you out.

"Yeah I'm ignoring it. All of you hate him and there's no point in trying to pursue anything anyways," you said, rolling your eyes.

"And did something happen?" You asked.

"What do you mean?"

You tried to find the words but gave up, showing her instead when felt the tugs.

"I don't know what that means," Feyre said cautiously, "Here we'll talk more about this tomorrow."

She was hiding something. You'd corner her tomorrow about it when you were less tired and less emotional.

After exchanging your goodnights, you started for your room. It used to be an empty guest room until Rhys had given it to you and told you to decorate it however you want.

At first the room had been so dreary. Everything was black. Black shelves, sheets, blankets, paint, doors. When you started spending more time in your room, you began to redecorate it where it was almost unrecognizable.

The walls were painted the lightest green and the shelves, desks, nightstands, dresser, and bedframe had been painted dark brown, almost black. All over the room there were plants. No flowers, just green ferns, succulents, and cacti. There was swirls of ivy that went along the shelves, headboard and ceiling.

You had replaced the chandelier with one that was almost like crystal leaves. The couches were dark wood with sage green cushions and orange pillows. Your bed pallet was similar as the couches. All of the books you had collected had been neatly organized along the shelves and anywhere you had space.

Several Solstices ago, Feyre had gotten you lights that you could hang along the walls change color. They were always set to a nice medium orange that reflected perfectly against the rest of the room.

The place was entirely unrecognizable.

Unfortunately, no one had been in your room to notice.

You splashed the makeup off your face, unglamoured your skin, and took your dress off, sighing in relief from the tight grip. Getting into sleep clothes you immediately collapsed into bed and sleep took you away.

You were dreaming.

All you saw was blood. And someone was screaming. Loud, gut-wrenching screams of pure undiluted terror.

You were holding a silver sword, but your hands... they weren't yours. They were much larger and veiner, and honestly, quite hot.

You felt like you and whoever this was were only one person, that you shared all thoughts, feelings, and emotions.

You were one and the same.

Banishing that thought from your mind, you watched as the person approached a man sitting in a chair who was watching as a slender, auburn haired women was being held down and backhanded over and over.

The anger that coursed through you was red hot flames as you raised the sword over the man's head and swung.

Beron's head rolled on the ground, his crown rolling to a stop at your feet. The guards stopped and looked over.

Immediately they let the lady go, but you could only watch through a red haze as the sword came down and down again on each guard.

Dropping the sword the person sank to their knees next to the women.

She quickly scooted back as your skin became itching, burning, like an army of ants was crawling under your skin.

In a sudden, harsh wave of agony, your vision went black yet again.

You woke up violently to Cassian pounding your door saying that he was the one who drank all night and was still up before you.

Rolling your eyes you shut the door in his face. Judging by his yelling, he didn't like your attitude.

Well too bad. You felt like absolute shit. Similar to how you felt last night, the feverish, itchy sensation was back, and much stronger.

You needed to tell Feyre about what you saw, who you saw.

As you got dressed, the dream started fading quickly until you only remembered important parts, like the hot hands.

Less than 10 minutes later, you went downstairs to see no one there but a note scribbled hastily on the table.

Y/N,

I'm sure you've noticed already that we aren't there. There was a conflict that we needed to take care of. I sent Cassian to make sure you were awake before telling him to come with us. You can have the day off.

Feyre

Well then. Your going back to bed since there was no reason for you to be awake.

Except you couldn't.

After laying in bed for hours you couldn't fall asleep, especially since your skin was crawling.

With a huff you turned over only to see Feyre's painting of the Inner Court, including you, sitting on your bedside table.

She had gifted it to you last Solstice with the intention of making you feel like you belonged. While you appreciated her sweet intentions it did the complete opposite.

Her and Rhysand were in the center where they stood smiling, bent over Nyx, who was sound asleep. Next to Feyre stood Gwyn who was smiling at Nyx with her arm wrapped around Nesta's shoulders who clearly was trying not to smile at Cassian, who had an arm wrapped around her waist and was leaning down next to her ear. Behind Nesta stood Emerie who looked so precious as she grinned from ear to ear, standing, arms linked with Mor, who as usual, looked perfect.

You were standing next to Mor and was peeking at Nyx over Rhys' shoulder with Lucien on your other side, smiling towards the frame.

The only mistake you think she made was his eyes. Lucien's eyes looked happy, joyful. Despite that on just the other side of him stood Azriel, who had his arm around Elain and they were giving each other lovey-dovey eyes.

In reality, Lucien's eyes would be bitter and yours would be dull as well.

Gwyn would be another option for Azriel, but that didn't bother you as much as Elain did.

She had a sweet, supportive, respectful, smart mate who put no pressure on her to immediately accept the bond and even distanced himself from her to give her room to breath. And yet, even then, she went for another male.

But part of you couldn't blame her. Part of you said that if you were that pretty than maybe people would actually want you.

To silence those voices and thoughts you reached to the candle you kept beside your bed and held it in your lap.

You rolled up your sleeve to reveal the precise burn marks all along your forearm. They were in perfect lines, wrapping all around your arm up past your elbow.

Your other arm looked the same.

You were running out of room.

Before you could rethink your decision you held the flame up to your arm and bit your lip hard to keep quiet.

You genuinely didn't feel any emotion other then self-hatred, so you stared at the light, eyes dry, face blank.

5 hours later, Feyre and the others showed up, clearly exhausted by whatever happened.

A couple minutes later you received a summoning to Rhys' office. Inside sat him and Feyre, looking grave.

With a nod as a greeting, you sat down in front of them and politely asked, "How can I be of assistance?"

"So polite. Well darling isn't it nice to see you again. Not even a hello?" a voice drawled out from the corner of the room.

You sighed before saying, still facing forward, "Hello Eris."

He came into your line of vision and leaned against the desk and said, "Hello princess. So this is what you wear when I'm not around."

You turned your head coolly towards him before sucking in a breath.

He had a large bruise on his temple, jaw, and cheek and a deep cut along his opposite cheek, yet he almost seemed to glow with power. His eyes burned bright gold yet they seemed tired.

"I know I'm beautiful love, but you don't need to gape," he said, trying to put effort into a smirk.

As much as you tried to quell it, you couldn't deny the anger that rushed through you at his appearance.

"What happened? Who did this to you?" You demanded.

At your outburst, Eris raised an eyebrow and smirked before saying, "I'm flattered, love. I had no idea how much you cared."

Ignoring his remark you asked, "Was it Beron? Is that why you cut his head off?"

His smirk only grew wider. "So you did see that."

"See what?" Rhysand spoke up.

You shifted your eyes to him, saying, "I had a dream where a women was getting backhanded, over and over by soldiers. And I was in someone else's body and they cut his head off."

His eyebrows rose before asking, "And when were you going to inform us of this?"

"Considering I had the dream last night, I was planning to tell you today," you shot back.

At Eris' chuckle you sent him a dark glare which he returned with another smirk.

"Show me," Rhys demanded.

It took him a minute or two before he looked back at you and said, "What you saw was true. Eris is now High Lord and Beron was killed by him. You know exactly why and how you saw that, don't you?"

You stiffened and refused to look at Eris. "Yes," was all you said.

Rhysand nodded and said, "That is what we were meeting about today so you are dismissed."

Still averting your eyes, you walked out into the hallway but you only got a few steps in before someone grabbed your wrist, lightly tugging you around.

It was Eris.

You looked at him with disregard and asked, "Yes?"

He gave you a pointed look at your arm, to which you stiffened even more, before asking, "Are you okay?"

"Yes," you said before turning around to walk away.

Another tug had you facing him again.

Exasperated, you asked, "What do you want?"

"I want you," was all he said before quickly adding, "and for you to be okay and not hurt yourself."

At your untrusting look he blew out a breath of air and continued, "You realize I can feel your emotions. We're mates whether you want to admit it or not. You also showed me that."

You opened your mouth to respond but he cut you off by stepping closer and saying, "And as much as you hate it, you want me. I know you want me princess. Almost as much as I want you."

You didn't say anything but your cheeks might've for you. They were certainly a deep red.

Eris chuckled before tilting your chin up and looking you dead in the eyes, saying, "I won't pressure you into this, but I ask that you at least give me some conside--"

You pulled him down by his collar and kissed him briefly.

His eyes were wide before smiling and forcing you backwards against the wall before kissing you again, longer this time.

Gently, Eris held you against the wall, weak enough that you could escape if you wanted to.

But you didn't.

Mother you didn't.

He felt right. One of his hands was on your cheek occasionally tangling in your hair, the other on the curve of your waist.

His body gave off the similar warmth that he did at the ball but this time, he was significantly warmer, or maybe that was you.

Eris let out a sigh, something akin to a moan against your lips as you tugged on his hair roughly. Both of his hands slid towards your thighs and pulled them up to settle them around his waist. You could feel how hard he was in between your legs.

Your higher position gave him easy access to your neck, making you let out a quiet whine as he bit and sucked down your jaw to your collarbone.

You grabbed his head and forced it back up to kiss again, tongues fighting for dominance.

"If you both could take this somewhere else instead of in my hallway that would be much appreciated," yelled Rhys from inside his office.

Both of you tore apart and came to your senses. Eris gently lowered you back down and cleared his throat, color dusting his cheeks.

"I have to go back to the Autumn Court, but I will try to visit as much as I am able to. And love, don't do that anymore," he said with a pointed glance at your arms, eyes flaring.

You just nodded, to breathless for words.

Before you got the chance to turn around, Eris stopped you saying, "If you'd want it, there will always be a place for you in my Court."

Hesitating you said, "I will discuss it with Feyre and Rhys."

You really wanted to go with him. A High Lord, your mate? It was too good to be true. But, you still have duties her and it wouldn't be great for Court relations if you just left.

You tried to silently convey your feelings to Eris without words since your High Lord and Lady were definitely listening.

His eyes softened and he nodded in understanding.

He would wait.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #eris acotar #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #eris angst #eris vandaddy

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shadowdaddies · 4 months

Note

I adore your stories, I would love if you wrote a story with Azriel and reader, where she is touch starved, and has been her whole life as she came from a bad family and then she and Az are in a relationship and he figures it out, so makes sure he’s always holding her hand or touching her leg etc. thank you!!

thank you!💜 tbh if I was with Az I'd make him carry me everywhere, I'd cling on like a spider monkey

Evening Admissions

Azriel x Reader fluff

Leaning back from the mirror, you took in your reflection, smoothing the loose curls of your hair as you grinned at the new dress you donned. It was your first starfall in the Night Court, and with your mate, Azriel.

The bond had snapped months ago, both of you recognizing that you were in fact, mates. You were new to the Inner Circle, just settling into Velaris as your home, and the both of you had decided to take your time to get to know each other before accepting the bond.

Practically glowing with joy as you thought through your plans for the evening, you bounced towards the door when you heard Azriel’s knock. You had to bite back a giggle as you thought about his reaction when you would tell him that you were ready to accept the bond. Opening the door, Azriel’s hazel eyes locked with yours, before slowly dragging down your body, those eyes darkening as he took in your appearance.

He cleared his throat in an attempt to gather his composure. “You look beautiful,” he rasped. With a smile, you took his arm with no hesitation. Until now, you had held back your urges to touch your mate, self conscious about how desperately you longed for his warmth. But tonight, you were ready to commit, all that mattered in the world being your mate here with you.

Azriel blinked at the contact as you looped an arm through his, leaning on his shoulder as he guided you downstairs and out the door. Once you were outside, he scooped you into his arms, your body curling into his as he shot to the skies. “You look very nice too, by the way,” you murmured into his ear, admiring the blush that dusted his cheeks at your comment.

When you landed at the House of Wind, Azriel tracked how reluctant you were to let go of him, enjoying the feel of his hands sliding down your waist as you smoothed your hair from the flight.

Your smile lit up the room as you entered, grasping Azriel’s hand in yours as your other hand wrapped around his bicep. Feyre caught your eye from where she stood, waving before coming over to greet you. “You look gorgeous,” she gushed, causing you to blush under the High Lady’s praise as you reciprocated her compliments, clinging to Azriel throughout the conversation.

Azriel led you through the crowd as the both of you said your hellos to everyone, Cassian giving you a knowing grin when you leaned into Azriel, your thumb brushing his arm affectionately as he spoke. “One moment,” Azriel interrupted, pulling you away from the conversation and out onto the balcony.

“Love, is something wrong? You have been clinging to me all night.” At your concerned expression, Azriel clarified, “not that I don’t like it. I love having you near me, I just want to ensure that you feel comfortable tonight.”

Sincerity shone in those hazel eyes, comforting you as you took a deep breath. “Nothing is wrong, Azriel. It’s exactly the opposite, actually,” you admitted with a small laugh. Your mate studied you, slight confusion on his face as you continued. “I feel safe around you, something I haven’t felt in a long time. As drawn as I have felt to you, I held back from touching you too much until I was sure.”

Azriel went wholly still, his only movement the visible swallow that he took before he dared the question. “What are you sure of?”

Your own nerves conquered you in that moment, as you tore your hands from Azriel’s for the first time that night. “I’m sure of you. I want to accept the mating bond, whenever you are ready.”

No sooner had the words left your mouth than stars began shooting across the sky, illuminating Azriel’s face as he smiled at you, unabashed like never before. He was aglow, both with starlight and joy as his hands found yours, pulling you close. A scarred hand threaded through your hair, tilting your head back as he grinned down at you. “From the moment I met you, I’ve been dying to hear those words.” He pulled you in for a kiss, his touch lighting you on fire as you fell for him completely.

Arms wrapped around your waist, supporting you as you finally pulled back, tears lining your eyes as you looked at Azriel in a new light - your mate, your forever. Broad hands spun you around, holding your back close to his chest as you watched the stars, Azriel watching half-heartedly as he kissed your neck, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear.

When the stars finally stopped, Azriel scooped you into his arms once more, carrying you through the threshold back into the house where your newfound family waited. His hands never left you, shadows twirling in your hair as he took a seat on the couch, pulling you into his lap. Rhys cocked an amused brow, to which you responded with a bashful grin, leaning into Azriel for security.

Your mate leaned close, his warm breath tickling your ear as he whispered to you, “would you like to tell them?”

A feline smirk graced your lips as you tilted his chin towards you. “I’ll give you the honors, mate.”

A low growl left him at the term of endearment - something you were sure you would have fun with when you both got home. Azriel turned to the expectant eyes of your family. “We are going to accept the mating bond.”

Cheers erupted, Rhys moving in search of drink to make a toast to the happy couple as Nesta squeezed your arm in quiet congratulations. Mor and Feyre were already planning your mating ceremony in the corner as you settled comfortably into Azriel’s chest, both of you only focused on each other and your future - a lifetime in his arms.

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imaginesmai · 2 months

Text

Promises to keep (3) - Azriel

Final part! Thank you for the support, I usually don't post the fics so rushed, but I wrote all the parts at the same time and why keep you waiting? Enjoy it!

Part 1, Part 2

Plot: Azriel and you have been rescued from a living hell, and now it's time for recovery.

Azriel remembered little about the hours following your rescue.

He remembered the calmness he felt when he heard the familiar steps through the hallways, thinking your soft smile was because of them too. He could hear again and again Rhysand and Cassian calling out for you two, and him shouting back – and he could feel the knot on his chest when you didn’t look down the hallway with him. He remembered thinking you were going to black out like the previous times. And then, he heard your heart.

Just before Rhysand and Cassian barreled in covered in blood, Azriel heard your heart slowing dangerously. He tried to keep you awake, and felt his whole word crumbling when, after Rhysand pushed past him to look at you, you closed your eyes.

Azriel remembered little about that day, only the feeling of your hand in his through the recovery.

Madja had been a saint through all of it, enduring his screams when he woke up thinking you were back in the cell, and you weren’t in his arms. She didn’t comment about the burns on your hands and the burns on your soul. She didn’t complain when Azriel and you were laid in the same bed because he couldn’t bear to have you out of sight.

She was a saint, and Azriel would be forever grateful for it.

Through conscious and unconsciousness, he healed slowly but firmly. Not as much could be said about you, whose wounds had yet to close and power to return. He laid his broken body next to you as he healed, and prayed each time he was awake that you woke up to one last promise.

“I’m sorry it took us so long” Rhysand confessed that night, only the moon illuminating the room. Azriel was laying on his side, staring at your motionless face. “We should… I’m sorry”

“I don’t blame you” Azriel croaked out.

Rhysand had yet to know the full details of what happened, and the lord guessed he would never know them all. The way Azriel’s eyes had been haunted, the burns on your hands, let him know enough. He couldn’t let go of the guilt of not arriving sooner, but even his was insignificant compared to Azriel’s.

When he wasn’t staring at you in silence, he looked ready to break down the world for what had happened.

“There was a male. Tall, black eyes. He knew about her powers. Made her use them” his voice was rough with unuse, sad and regretful. “Did you find him?”

“If he was there when we arrived, then he hid well. We killed everyone left” Rhysand was silent for a moment, debating whether he should tell his brother what he knew.

“I want to know it” Azriel’s hazel eyes briefly left your face to look at him. “Don’t you dare to hide it. Tell me”

“We didn’t find him, but… when you were taken, we used everything we had to find you. There was no trace, no smell, that could tell us where they had taken you” he swallowed hard, thinking about the first hours of panic and chaos. “But Lucien… he recognized the magic left on your cabin. Knew where it came from”

“Where?”

“The continent. It was the same magic he found when he went looking for the Vassa” before Azriel could press further, he continued. “I can only theorize, but if you say he survived her powers, that might had been Koschei”

“He’s here?”

Azriel rose on one arm, no sign of discomfort from his wounds. Rhysand didn’t know if it was prudent to tell Azriel about Koschei, because his brother looked ready to travel back to the continent to find him. He could only guess what he would do if Feyre was in that bed.

Koschei had appeared not so long ago and had showed interest in Azriel’s powers. He had taunted the Illyrian, angered him until he had shown him a part of his shadows. And still, Azriel knew it was a blessing that Koschei wondered about him and not about his mate. It seemed, that blessing had been short-lived.

“Y/N’s powers… we had been lucky until now. If Koschei has Vassa in that lake, Y/N would seem like a perfect complement”

“But we were careful” Azriel interrupted him, now sitting in bed. “When he came, she was away and didn’t come back for a month. Why now? Why does he know about her and her powers? Did someone betray us?”

“Or he smelled her through Vassa” Rhysand shrugged, as if he hadn’t been breaking his mind for the last month trying to understand what went wrong. “You can try and guess, for now, the only thing we can do is keep her safe”

The bond stilled in his chest for a long second, and Azriel looked down at you. Peacefully sleeping, you looked like an angel. He had seen the carnage at the cell. How, body after body, had melted when your light infiltrated through their pores and broke through. Each patrol sent your way had met the same fate. The last ones, when your power was on the verge of giving up, had been the most grotesque.

All of that had been because of him. You had refused to acknowledge your power for centuries, had dismissed any chance of training it in fear of repeating what happened the night your parents were murdered. And you had finally done it for him. The man who couldn’t keep your hands safe from the fire.

Rhysand’s hand on his shoulder startled him, and he looked up. The high-lord, like everyone else, was worried about him. About what he ate and drank, how much he slept and talked. He was regaining his mobility back little by little, but whatever time he could spend off the bed, he stood by your side.

Azriel willed himself to smile for his friend, his brother, but nothing came out.

“Thank you” he chose to say, for lack of better words. “For coming for us”

“Try to sleep”

The high-lord left with silent steps, Azriel watching each one of them. And when he was out of the room, only your quiet breaths breaking the silence, he promised himself he would find Koschei and burn him down to ashes.

You woke up two days later, and Azriel was almost fully healed by them. He still couldn’t fly or run, but his body was healing.

The first time you opened your eyes, he was in the kitchen for the third time since you came back. He felt your emotions through the bond and almost drained himself too when he winnowed back to your rooms.

For the next hours, Madja overwatched your recovery and gave you instructions about what to do now. Rest a lot, eat a lot, drink a lot. No big movements, no straining yourself, no powers. As if you would willingly use them again. No sex too, she declared with a sharp look at Azriel, who didn’t bother looking back. He listened to her instructions with neat attention and was close to kneeling before her in gratitude.

Once your friends had given you half-hugs and heartful apologies, you were left alone with Azriel. Madja hadn’t even left the floor when you tried to stand up.

“What do you need?” Azriel pushed your shoulders back with a scoff. “Madja told you to take it easy today. Don’t move until she comes back tonight. Do you need water? Food?”

“A hug would be nice”

You tried giving him a small smile and Azriel breathed through his nose. The tension on his shoulders dropped a little, his wings fluttering. After a second of consideration, he sat on the cushions next to you and dragged your body to his side. Any movement of his wings was painful and itchy, but he swallowed the discomfort and draped one across your back.

Your now bandaged hands fell on his chest, and the relief Azriel had let himself feel since you woke up died down.

Last night, he had finally opened to Cassian about what had happened. His brother had hugged him tightly, almost painfully, as Azriel cried onto his shoulder. The physical recovery would only be a part of a long journey, Madja had said that morning, before you woke up. What Azriel had endured in and out of that cell would haunt him for a while, but Azriel refused to let it take him away from you.

So, with a sharp breath, Azriel looked away from your hands to your beautiful eyes.

“You look good” you admitted. “How are you feeling?”

“Leg’s fine, nothing more than a medium limp now. Madja stitched it up and the skin has regenerated with her tonics. It feels… weird, but it’ll be alright” Azriel explained, eyes locked on yours. “And the wings will heal, too. I can’t promise you flights across the Sidra anytime soon, but Cassian can take you”

“You just lost half of your appeal” you chuckled.

The sound brought a smile to his lips. When you were with him, when he could stare into your eyes for hours in the safety of your home, he could pretend nothing had happened. A bad mission that had left him sore, not his worst nightmare come true.

With your head resting on his shoulder, you let the warmth of the morning heat your body. You were sore, too. Your back and arms hurt, your chest shook with each breath and your legs were cramped. Above all of that, you felt the crushing void of your power in your soul, restoring itself little by little.

Azriel seemed to know all of that from just staring at you, and his gaze saddened.

You had talked about that possibility before – about someone finding your powers, wanting to take advantages of them. When you first met him, it was political talk. The dangers of you staying in the court, the ways they could assure your protection, techniques to avoid you ever being noticed. As the years passed, those talks developed into feelings.

Into the fear of someone finding you and taking you away from Azriel.

You looked down to your lap and fidgeted with your fingers. The new skin felt strange against the bandages, but you didn’t complain. Not when his hand covered yours and he brushed a careful finger against the bandages.

“Don’t say it, Az” you sighed, feeling the apologies build in his mind. “It wasn’t your fault more than it was mine. I don’t blame you and that’s all. Please, don’t say it”

“I need to. Just one time” he admitted. “Let me say it one time, and you won’t hear it more. Let me get it out of my chest before the guilt consumes me”

You pressed your thumb and index finger together, stretching the bandage. You knew what he wanted to say, and you hated that he felt the need to apologize. Azriel had offered his life again and again in that cell for you without ever letting you argue against it, and would do it once more. But through the years, you had gotten to know him, and you understood that he needed that.

So you nodded without looking at him, and felt his chest widening in a breath.

“I am so, so sorry, because they did that because of me. Maybe they knew you wouldn’t let them touch me and were ready to…” his voice trailed and he silently pointed to your hands, not ready to say it. “And I’m sorry you had to use your power. I tried to shield you from it, my love. I’m so sorry I failed you”

Failed you

Long ago, when you first realized your feelings for the shadowsinger weren’t common, Azriel had made you the first promise. That he would keep you safe from the people who hurt you, that he wouldn’t let anyone force you to use your powers. Those had been empty promises, that you had needed in the dark nights of the first years.

Azriel had kept that promise, that impossible promise, during centuries. There had been others that had tried, people who knew about you and found where you were. And each and every threat was eliminated before they could reach you.

You knew that Azriel would have rather died in that cell that even think about you using your powers to free him. You thought briefly about the devastation on his face when he had realized what you had done, for him. It wasn’t disgust, or fear. It was self-disgust and failure on his part.

Shadows gathered around the bed when you looked at him once more, raising until you could look at him comfortably. His hand steadied you at your lower back, the other still holding yours. You didn’t need to shove your emotions down the bond, as they all were shining in your tearful eyes.

“I’m sorry too I wasn’t strong or brave enough to get us out sooner. That you had to get through all of that and he still knew” you confessed, trying to keep your voice loud and clear. “I’m sorry because I failed you too. I promised I would keep them hidden and I didn’t. Azriel, I would…”

You paused for a second, and let yourself soak in the love that seeped through his hazel eyes. He knew that, just as he couldn’t and wouldn’t blame you for that, you couldn’t and wouldn’t blame him. Love made you powerless, maybe reckless, but it was your love was the axis of his world.

A slow smile formed on your lips at the next words.

“I would have burnt that place and myself down for you. And there’s nothing you can say or do to change my mind”

“And I would have endured each beating for you too, with a smile on my face”

They were sad words, ones neither of you wanted to hear. But your love had gone through worst and would endure more. You were a dangerous person, not just for yourself but to others around you. Your powers drew a target on your back, and no matter how hard Azriel scrubbed, it wouldn’t go away.

And Azriel’s feelings, his devotion to you, would always put him at risk. Both you had learned to live with that and would continue to do so.

“I don’t expect you to keep every promise we make” you told him, squeezing his hand softly. “You promised me once that you would love me with your last breath and thought. And I promised you that you would hold my heart till the ends of times. That’s the only promise I care about”

Your wedding vows, made fifty years ago, brought tears to his eyes. He remembered his family gathered together for the event, the once in a lifetime feeling that rocked his body when he saw you walking down the altar in that beautiful dress. The words of the priestess were dull and incoherent as he looked at you, so beautiful and magnificent.

He had known by then that you would be his ending, that there would be no one after you. All that waiting had been worthy the moments he set his eyes on you, and each second by your side reaffirmed it.

Azriel leaned forward until you were inches away, your smiles matching.

“I promise you once more than I won’t ever stop loving you, my love, not even when my heart stop beating”

He closed the distance between your bodies and kissed you, closing another promise that he intended to keep, no matter what.

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jdeclerc · 5 months

Text

happy birthday, shadowsinger

pairing: azriel x reader

summary: it's the night before azriel's birthday and he can't help but want you all to himself, politeness and decorum be damned

author's note: i'm a self-proclaimed cassian girlie but az does something to me, i wanted my first fic featuring him to be a happy one...enjoy :)

warnings: smut

word count: 5,728

“Even you can’t slip out unnoticed during your own party, Azriel.”

Azriel can hear the smile in your voice from where he stands facing the kitchen window overlooking the ocean. He wordlessly sends his shadows away, commanding them to ensure the two of you are left alone.

“Who’s to say my plan was to go unnoticed?”

He turns, drinking in your form from where you stand in the kitchen’s doorway.

He had almost been brought to his knees when you exited your shared dressing room hours earlier. Azriel had gone with you too many times not to recognize the pieces you wear as being custom-made by your favourite designer in the rainbow.

The top is made of the most beautiful lace Azriel has every seen, a band of black underneath is the only solid piece. The neckline raises high enough to circle your throat, he had found himself picturing his hand replacing that particular part more times that he cares to admit.

The high-waisted black pants flow down your form like water over rock, two slits running up both sides until they stop near the tops of your thighs. Throughout the night his hands had used every opportunity to slip themselves beneath the fabric, your skin against his own being a feeling he will chase for eternity.

But it is the vision of you now that has him thinking himself the luckiest male in all of Prythian.

You had removed your shoes at some point throughout the night, the intricate style of your hair had been replaced by a beautifully messy knot at the top of your head, and your jewellery had been abandoned in various places, the only piece remaining being the band he had placed on your finger two centuries ago.

You embody everything he deems to mean home, to mean comfort and safety.

“What if my plan was this? To have you all to myself?”

The kitchen is empty save for the two of you, the only noise being the music filtering in from the sitting room.

“You have me Azriel…any way you wish, any time you desire, I am yours.”

He can’t help his smile as he extends his right hand out toward you, a silent invitation for you to approach.

“Dance with me?”

Your eyes don’t stray from his as you close the distance, your left hand meeting his right. He takes your right hand and places both around his neck. His arms come to circle your waist, drawing you in as close as he is able. His wings follow suit, framing the two of you where you stand.

Azriel begins slow movements as he rests his head atop where yours is tucked under his jaw, brushing his lips across your forehead. A song he recognizes as one from your mating ceremony begins playing in the other room. After a moment he begins singing for only you to hear.

Azriel has let only those in his immediate family hear him sing, them being the only fae in existence aware that the ‘singer’ portion of his title rings true. He has only sung for them a handful of times, usually only doing so when faerie wine has gotten the best of him.

It was the expression on your face after the first time you heard him sing that erased any fear he held about your reaction. From that moment he never once denied your requests to hear him sing. You know him too well to ask in front of the other members of the Inner Circle, asking him only in the sacred space of your shared home. He will never get used to the waves of love and adoration you send down the bond when he sings for you.

As the song ends, Azriel begins quietly humming along with the one that follows, pulling both of you further into a moment meant only for the two of you. Neither of you dare to break the cocoon of quiet that surrounds you, moments such as these happening not nearly often enough.

Azriel isn’t sure how much time passes before you break the silence.

“I’m sorry if the party is too much, Cas and Rhys insisted on a night of revelry and debauchery…a gathering, at our house, with just our family, was the best I could get them down to.”

Your voice comes out hushed, like speaking at a regular volume would break the spell of the moment.

“I’m not even sure I want to know what it took to change their minds.” Amusement laces Azriel’s response. “And for it to be on the night before my birthday rather than the day of? You must be a sorceress.”

“It wasn’t quite that dramatic…I simply began telling them how I plan for the two of us to not leave our bed on your birthday, and of all the things we would be getting up to. That seemed to lessen their resolve.”

You can feel Azriel’s hands tighten where they rest on your waist, his head lowering until you feel the brush if his lips against your ear.

“I imagine it would…care to let me in on the details of what you told them?”

“I only got to tell them that I would be too sore for training the following day and that my voice would be strained from screaming your name before they feigned retching and begged me to stop.”

Azriel’s laugh is impossibly deep, the tone causing an involuntary wave of desire to shoot from your end of the bond. The air almost instantly changes, the scents of your respective arousals twisting and twining in the air around you as your gazes lock.

Azriel’s hands move to the backs of your thighs, lifting you into his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist. He moves forward until he can set you down on the closest counter, positioning himself between you and the doorway leading out of the kitchen. His look is nothing short of predatory as he stares down at you.

His right hand comes to rest on your jaw, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His left moves from your waist and begins toying with the base of your top, the small, black buttons being the only thing that stands between him and your bare skin beneath his hands.

Your hands tighten their grip on either side of his neck as you bring your lips against the base of his ear.

“Damage even one button and I will cut you down…the Night Court will be in need of a new spymaster.”

Azriel leans far enough back to meet your eye and gives you a scandalized look in return. Despite his look his hands retreat to either side of your waist, his thumbs brushing beneath the hem of your top.

“So very violent…I would never dare to do such a thing, my love. Do you think so little of me?”

You respond with a raised eyebrow, both of you knowing his accounts list numerous trips throughout Velaris to replace the articles of clothing he had been too impatient to remove without ripping them.

“Shall I start counting how many pairs of undergarments I’ve lost to your impatience?” You stare up at him through your lashes, choosing your next words knowing exactly what they would do to your mate.

“Or is there something else you’d prefer my mouth to be doing?”

“Fuck me.” He says it so low that you know he’s saying it more to himself then you. His hunger is evident in the way he searches your eyes.

Azriel’s grip tightens around your waist. He moves forward spreading your thighs further to accommodate his form towering over your own.

Wordlessly you begin undoing the buttons of his shirt, reaching halfway before running your hands over his chest. You trace his tattoos, taking in and appreciating the beauty of your mate. You can feel him tense under your touch as your hands move under the collar of his shirt, stopping at the base of his neck to toy with the hair that had grown longer than normal after his last mission.

You look up at him through your lashes and it’s as though his world stops.

Nothing exists outside of this moment for Azriel as his lips meet yours. His right hand moves to the base of your neck, tightening his grip to tilt your head back, allowing him the angle he needs to devour you.

The kiss is the exact opposite of his outward, quiet demeanor. It’s demanding, he is a male with a singular focus, a hunger that only you can satiate. His hands move to your thighs, holding them with a bruising grip as he pulls them higher and tighter around his waist. Every part of him meeting every part of you.

It’s when you reach and beginning running your hand along the length of him over his pants that he pulls back, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth as he does. He rests his forehead against yours, both of your breaths laboured.

“Here or our bedroom?”

“Wha –”

“I plan to be inside you before the clock strikes midnight Y/N.” Azriel’s tone is severe, determination lacing every word. “It can be here, with our family in the next room, or I can spread you out beneath me as you grip the satin of our sheets…tell me where and tell me quickly.”

A mischievous grin spreads across your lips before you respond, and it takes everything in Azriel not to capture your lips with his once more. Your words come out as a whisper.

“Your birthday, your choice.”

Azriel emits a low groan at your words. With a practised ease he lifts you from the counter, keeping your body tucked close to his. He turns and carries you through the doorway of the kitchen, toward the stairs leading to the second floor of your shared home.

Only Amren notices the two of you as you pass by the sitting room. She gives Azriel a knowing smile and it’s the slight bow of her head that tells him she won’t alert the rest of the Inner Circle to your joined absence.

As he reaches the second floor, he carries you through the double doors that sit directly opposite the stairs. He removes a single hand from you only long enough to close both doors, sealing the two of you away from the world once more.

It takes you no more than a moment to know where your mate has taken you.

“The library? Interesting choice.” Amusement is mixed into your loving tone.

“My birthday, my choice, remember?” He moves forward, your back meeting the closest bookshelf. “I bolted these shelves to the floor for a reason, my love.”

Your eyes widen, your mate having left that particular piece of information out when explaining to you how he planned to make changes to the library when the two of you had moved in.

“Azriel…you did not!”

“Oh, but I did, my dear. Do you not remember what happened the first day we moved into this house?”

You both can’t help laughing at the memory. What started as a simple kiss ended with the two of you surrounded by a broken shelf and books scattered every which way. It had been your favourite room in the house ever since.

The library holds such peace and tranquility for both of you. Your respective offices both have doors leading into the room. Azriel can’t count how many nights you both have fallen asleep in front of the fireplace, still holding your books. He also can’t count the number of heated moments that passed between you within the walls of this room, your books, in particular, being the starting point to more than a few of those moments.

Azriel lowers you to the floor and takes your hips in his hands, turning you around. He moves both your hands to rest on the shelf just above your head.

“Keep them there.” His tone leaves no room for discussion or argument.

His hands move to either side your neck, his thumbs brushing the base of your jaw before moving to the first of the buttons that rest there. He undoes each one with painful precision, your arousal growing with each that comes loose.

It seems as though an eternity has passed before the last button comes free. He lowers your hands and pushes the top past your shoulders and down your arms. He sets the top on the empty portion of shelf behind him. As he turns back to face you, he moves your hands to rest on the shelf once more.

He presses a kiss to your left shoulder, leaving a path of searing skin in his wake as he settles his lips at the base of your ear. His fingertips brush across your skin from your hips until both hands come to rest beneath your breasts.

The tightening of your grip where it rests and the shiver that runs through you as he brushes his scarred thumbs across your nipples doesn’t go unnoticed by the spymaster. The cool air of the empty room has formed them into sensitive peaks, and he relishes in the stuttering breaths you let out as he continues the movements of his thumbs.

Azriel’s right hand comes to rest between your breasts as his left moves down your stomach, stopping just short of where he knows you want his hands most.

“Az…”

Your words come out weak, pleading.

His hand undoes the buttons of your pants with expert precision. You can’t help the whimper that escapes as both of his hands leave your body to slide the garment down your legs. He repeats his earlier actions, your pants now resting with your top.

Azriel’s hands find their place once more as he presses your bare form into his fully clothed one, the friction causing another shiver to rake over your body.

His left hand continues its previous path downward until his fingers brush against the most sensitive part of you. It’s his turn to let out an involuntary groan at what his hand is met with.

“So wet for me already Y/N. I’ve barely touched you…are you that desperate for me?”

Rather than give him a response, your body does its best to grind against his hand, searching for some form of friction. His right hand tightens where it rests on your sternum, halting your movements.

“You’ll have to do better than that Y/N. Use your words…tell me exactly what you need.”

His lips are pressed to your ear, his voice so deep it is the accelerant to the fire raging within you.

It takes a moment for you to respond, your words coming out broken.

“I need you…I need you inside me, Az. Now.”

Your words pull him from the haze of his arousal. Very rarely do the two of you move forward without some form of preparation to make the experience more enjoyable for you. Azriel isn’t ignorant to his size, he is acutely aware of the discomfort he has unintentionally caused you in the past. Very rarely does your need outweigh the pain you feel as you adjust to him.

“Be sure Y/N. Please.” His words are desperate, the need to have your intention clear necessary for him to move forward.

You turn in his grip, bringing your hands to rest on his chest as you meet his eye. Your left hand raises to rest against his jaw, your next words giving him the reassurance you know he needs.

“I’m sure Az…I want every inch you have to give me.”

Your hands become desperate, reaching to undo the buttons beneath each of his wings. Azriel can’t help but let out a low laugh as you struggle to pull his shirt from his body. He grasps your wrists and places them on his waist before reaching overhead and pulling the garment off himself. He tosses it to the side, all the care he showed your clothes has been thrown into the Sidra.

He looks down and watches as you pull his zipper down, his breath hitching as you sink to your knees before him, the sight never failing to bring out his base desires. He steps out of his pants when they reach his ankles. His hands move to cover yours where they grip at his thighs when they start to move.

“You’re not the only one that needs me inside you, Y/N.” His voice is gravel, almost pained as he pulls you to stand once more. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth in the beginning of a pout.

“It’s your birthday Az, this is about you.”

His hands encase either side of your neck with a firm grip, ensuring you hear every word he has to say.

“If it’s about me then it’s about you.” His voice goes impossibly deep with his next words. “You should know by now that nothing gets me off quite like the sounds you make as you cum around my cock.”

He says nothing more before he captures your lips with his own and lifts you into his arms. He parts from you just long enough to brush his cock through your folds, lining himself up. You both let out a low groan as he pushes into you, your head falling back against the bookshelf and his coming to rest against your chest.

Azriel doesn’t dare move, savouring the moment. Your hands brush back the hair that has fallen over his forehead, tilting his face up to meet yours. You both refuse to break the eye contact as he draws his hips back and moves them forward once more, working himself deeper.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, and he can see your eyes begin to water as he bottoms out inside you. His heart breaks at the sight, but you don’t give him a single second to fall into self-deprecation as you pull his lips to meet yours.

The kiss is different than the last, it’s fueled by care and adoration. A love so deep neither of you can quite comprehend it most days.

Azriel tucks his head against your neck as you tighten your arms around his shoulders, his lips paying special attention to the spot just beneath your ear that has you clutching him, your nails surely leaving marks.

His first movements are slow, measured. He plays you like a song that he has practiced his entire life, knowing just what you need. It’s when you bring your forehead to rest against his that he knows you need more, knows you want him to give you everything he can.

His pace becomes burning, pulling sounds from you that would have him offering up whatever he needed in order to hear them just one more time.

“That’s it Y/N/N.” He pulls out to the tip before beginning to push back in, painfully slow. His pace quickening again as he snaps his hips into yours. “I want to hear you take every inch like the good girl that you are.”

It’s his words that send you barreling into an orgasm that has you seeing stars. His right hand moves to circle your clit, causing you to cry out as he carries you through your release. Your left hand grips his forearm, attempting and failing to halt his movements.

“Az, please…”

Your words are more desperate than he knows you wish them to be. Azriel gradually slows his movements, and he can feel your body coming back from the over-stimulation. He doesn’t give you time to fully recover as he moves to lay you down on the couch that is centred in front of the dormant fireplace.

Azriel takes a moment to admire the sinful beauty of you beneath him, it’s a sight that he commits to memory each time he is graced by it.

Your hands grip his biceps as he lowers himself to hover above you, his arms resting on either side of your head. His lips meet yours in a kiss that is nothing short of devastating. He pushes every bit of need he has for you down the bond, ensuring you know he is worshipping before his chosen altar.

He hooks his left arm under your knee, raising your leg and pushing himself even deeper inside you. He relishes in the expression that passes over your features at the new angle. Your body is pliant under his, ready to take whatever he gives you.

Azriel doesn’t have many words to say but he wishes he could give every last one to you in this moment. Wishes he could find the words to properly describe the effect you have on him, his feelings so consuming it terrifies him.

A squeeze on his forearm pulls him from his thoughts, he glances up to meet your questioning expression.

“Care to tell me what has that beautiful mind of yours thinking so hard?” Your words are gentle, barely coming out above a whisper.

Azriel brushes his thumb along your jaw.

“Nothing you don’t already know.” He smiles to himself. “Just that I am hopelessly, endlessly, devastatingly in love with you.”

“Keep talking like that, Shadowsinger and I won’t even need you to move. Your voice is all I need.”

“Then maybe I shouldn’t be doing this.” He pulls out to the tip and pushes back in, hitting every last spot that has you clenching around him and arching your chest into his. “Or this.” He leans down, closing his mouth on your pulse point, leaving his mark on you. “And I really shouldn’t be doing this either.” His mouth resumes its position, and his fingers start moving over your clit in the way only he knows how.

“But we both know it doesn’t matter what I do when I’m the only that can have you like this, the only one that can give you what we both know you’d beg for.” His fingers stop their movements, leaving you to clench around him, wordlessly begging for him to do something, anything. The sound that comes from you at the loss is nothing short of primal, so involuntary Azriel can’t stop the pride that washes over him.

He starts moving again, varying his pace until he finds the one that has your head falling back onto the couch and the nails of your left hand digging into his back, just below where his wing meets his skin. Azriel can’t help the moan that leaves him, the scrape of your nails only heightening the euphoria beginning to consume him.

Your right hand blindly grabs for the hand he has anchored next to your head. He interlaces his fingers with your own, your knuckles turning white with the force of your grip, desperate to maintain your hold on him.

“Fuck, Az…don’t stop.” He can barely hear the words as you choke them out, each sounding more strained than the last. “Plea...please.”

You’re close; he can hear it in your breathing and feels it in the way your body tenses, as though you’re a rope about to snap.

He doesn’t let up in his pace, even though he can feel himself barreling toward his own release. Azriel is determined to hold out long enough for you to fall over the edge first.

“Such good manners.” Azriel grips the back of you neck with his right hand, forcing your eyes to open and meet his. The expression across his face has you letting out a whimper, the fire in his eyes unmistakeable. “But what did I say about telling me exactly what you want Y/N? Use your words.”

He can see you struggle to form the words, so lost in your pleasure it takes more than one try for them to cross your lips.

“Please, Az, I want to…need to cum on your cock.”

Your words break the last of his resolve. His hand moves from your neck to resume its movements on your clit, moving against it slowly, in such stark contrast to the burning pace set by his hips.

The dual sensations have you crying out and Azriel responds in turn, with a needy groan falling from his own lips.

He leans down and places his lips against your ear, his voice sinful as he whispers the exact words you need.

“Then do that for me, love…cum for me.” His fingers quickening their pace only slightly.

That all it takes for your vision to flash white, your orgasm ripping through you with such delicious ferocity. You can’t help the trembling of your thighs as Azriel’s pace doesn’t slow, drawing sounds from you that only he’s ever been able to do.

His release quickly follows your own as he bites down on your neck, pushing his hips harshly into yours as he cums. You can feel him tremble under your touch as you cling to him, the reaction a direct contrast to the deep moans coming from him.

Azriel’s thrusts slow, anchoring you both as you come down from your respective highs. The sound of your combined releases nearly sending you into a third orgasm.

Azriel isn’t sure how long it takes for your respective breaths to even out. All he knows as he stares down at the look of pure bliss on your face is that he will never get used to this, will never stop wanting to be the one that gets to see you like this.

He waits a few more moments before slowly pulling out of you, a small gasp leaving your lips at the loss. Azriel rests his head on your chest, giving himself a moment to truly come down from his high.

Your hand brushes the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead, a truly contented smile forming as he lifts his head and closes his eyes with the movement of your hand.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence for a few moments before the clock that sits on the fireplace mantel gives out an almost silent chime.

“It’s midnight…Happy Birthday Azriel.” You whisper the words, sending every bit of love you can down the bond. “Hopefully you’re not disappointed with how your day is beginning.”

He leans down to kiss you rather than respond, exploring your mouth with slow precision. When he breaks it his forehead rests against your own.

“When I say this is better than anything I could dream, please believe every word. I thank the cauldron every day for gifting me with you as a mate.” You can tell his next words are said to himself as his eyes search your face. “I will never deserve you.”

“You wish for me to believe your words…believe mine in return.” Your hands grasp either side of his face. “You deserve everything you have, my love. The life you have built, your family, me, all of it.”

He lets out a low hum of acknowledgment, leaning down to kiss you. It’s slow, patient – allowing the both of you to bask in the feeling of each other.

You break from the kiss suddenly, unable to stifle the yawn you let out.

“You’re tired Y/N.”

“No, I’m here, I’m –” Another yawn interrupts your words.

Azriel lets out a low chuckle, shifting so he rests on his side facing you. His wings relax over the edge of the couch, and he allows them to brush the ground rather than devote the concentration to keeping them raised. He reaches over you and pulls the blanket folded over the back of the couch to cover your entwined bodies.

He wraps his arms around your waist and rests your head against his chest.

“Sleep Y/N, you’ll need rest if you’d like us to live out the day you scarred Rhys and Cas with as you described it.”

You smile and let out an amused hum as your eyes begin to close.

“It would be a perfect day, Cas and Rhys be damned.” The words come out in a whisper, and it doesn’t take long for Azriel to hear your breathing leveling out.

He waits long enough to ensure you’re truly asleep before gently untangling himself from you. He looks down as he stands and finds his shadows have returned. They skirt around the bottom of the couch, holding true to their need to keep you safe at every turn.

He silently thanks them, only now realizing just how long your shared family had gone without interrupting the two of you.

Azriel crosses the short space to the bookshelves, retrieving his pants and pulling them on, not bothering to button them as he knows they’ll be on his bedroom floor in a matter of minutes.

He faces the couch once more and pulls the blanket tighter around your form before lifting you into his arms. Even in sleep, you burrow further into his hold, tucking your head tight to his chest.

Azriel can’t help the smile plastered to his lips as he exits the library, vowing to himself that the two of you would be back in this room later in the day, continuing this evening’s activities.

---------

“Where did they go Rhysie?”

Rhysand can hear the pout in Cassian’s voice as he asks the question.

“They didn’t leave the house so I’m sure they haven’t gone far Cas. Don’t worry, we’ll find them.”

He tightens his grip on Cassian’s arm as his massive form sways during their ascent up the stairs.

“We better, they’re too important to me to lose.” His eyes are taking on a glossy glint as he continues. “What if something terrible’s happened?! I’ll kill anyone who dares lay a hand on them!”

It’s in that moment that Rhysand thanks the Mother he insisted they all come unarmed tonight. A drunk Cassian is one matter…an armed drunk Cassian could end in catastrophe.

Rhysand can hear a slight shift from down the hall as they finally reach the top of the stairs. He looks ahead and spots two of the few fae who permanently reside within his heart.

Cassian moves before Rhysand can pull him back. His massive form taking the most ungraceful of steps to reach his friends.

“Thank the gods you’re okay!” Azriel quickly hushes the General, his tone having crossed from its previous whisper to the beginning of his normally boisterous, energetic tone. “I was so afraid something terrible had happened when neither of you came back!”

Azriel eyes dart to Rhysand’s, his eyebrows raising in question. Rhysand shrugs in response, slipping into Azriel’s mind after he lowers his shields.

“He refused to leave until he laid eyes on the two of you, his concern so great he turned down every reassurance I tried to give him.”

“Just how much did he drink?” Azriel’s amusement is evident, no anger imposes on his tone.

“Please don’t make me answer that, he winnowed to the wine cellar before I could stop him. Feyre’s in similar shape but Amren was able to get her home, I clearly haven’t had such luck.”

Azriel nods at his High Lord in understanding and turns his attention to Cas once more.

The stretch of silence has given the General an opportunity to move even closer to the two, his eyebrows furrowed in worry as he looks down at Y/N.

“She’s not hurt Cas, she simply sleeps. You wouldn’t want to wake her, would you?”

Cassian shakes his head.

“Can you do me a favour, brother?” Cassian nods in response.

Rhysand can see from where he stands that the expression Cassian gives Azriel is nothing short of one filled with utter love.

“Y/N had a headache earlier today and she misplaced the tonic Majda gave her in the House of Wind after our meeting. Can I trust you to find it for her? It would make her so happy to have it back.”

“For Y/N? Consider it done, brother.” Cassian’s tone is as serious as it is when he walks into battle. The two of you had been close since the moment you met, the General declaring himself your protector.

He stares at Azriel for a moment longer before taking his face in his hands and kissing both of his cheeks. And it’s as he leans down to give Y/N the same treatment that Rhysand finally takes in the scene before him.

He observes Azriel’s half-clothed state and his quick adjustment to the blanket covering you, pulling your body in closer to his own.

Rhys realizes just what he and Cassian have interrupted and curses his less than sober state for not realizing earlier the most obvious reason two mates would slip away at one of their respective birthday celebrations.

“Cas, let’s go find that tonic. We wouldn’t want Y/N to wait any longer than she has to.” Rhysand crosses the short distance and moves to turn Cassina away from the mated pair.

Azriel shoots him a grateful look, his thanks clearly evident.

Cassian allows Rhys to lead him away but abruptly turns back just as they move to descend the stairs.

“Azriel?”

“Yeah, Cas?”

“Tell Y/N Happy Birthday from me when she wakes up, I want to be the first one to say it.” His smile is beaming at the thought.

“The second she wakes, she will know.” Azriel’s words are filled with amusement, letting out a low laugh at the General’s words.

Cassian gives him a triumphant smile, turning back toward the stairs without another word.

Rhysand gives Azriel one last apologetic look before leading the General down the stairs and past the wards that guard the home.

“Y/N must’ve gotten hot before she fell asleep.”

Cassian’s words have Rhysand pausing.

“What makes you say that, Cas?”

The General’s words fall to a whisper, as though somebody may be listening.

“She didn’t have any clothes on under that blanket. She was in front of a fire and got too warm, Azriel didn’t want us to see so he put the blanket on her, I’m certain of it.”

He speaks like he’s privy to confidential information and has finally chosen to let Rhysand in on it.

Rhysand grips his brother’s arm, giving him an endearing smile as he begins to winnow them to the House of Wind. Cassian’s face conveying unending pride at Rhys' reply.

“You must be right Cas…there’s absolutely no other possible explanation.”

#azriel x reader #azriel #cassian #rhysand #acotar #acotar x reader #night court

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daycourtofficial · 1 month

Text

Forever is the sweetest con

Cassian x reader, Azriel x reader

Summary: based on this request - the war with Hybern claimed the life of your husband. Reeling with grief, you discover that you’re pregnant. His brother and your friend, Azriel, begins spending more and more time with you, finding solace in each other amidst your shared grief.

Author’s note: sadness, sadness, sadness, this one took me ages to write bc it’s so fucking sad 😭 I’m not super happy with this bc I was mostly trying to meet the deadline so this might feel disjointed bc I had to kinda skip around a lot. Also I didn’t tag this as Cassian x reader in tags bc it felt too painful to do that

Word count: 3k

Warnings: character death, unexpected pregnancy, honestly just sadness

“I’m Cassian.”

A large, handsome male greeted you as you were shelving some new books away. His large outstretched hand reached towards you, waiting in the air for a moment as you set the stack of books in your arms down. Your hand gets lost in the warmth of his, telling him your own name.

He smiles at it, repeating it, testing it on his tongue.

For days, that is the only memory playing in your head. It is what you think of as you lay in your shared bed, his scent still lingering. It is what you think when Feyre picks you up, and her and Mor place you in a bathtub as they clean you. It is what you think of as you stare at the ceiling, hoping it will collapse on you.

It is what you think of as you stand between Rhysand and Azriel at Cassian’s memorial. It is what you think of as they lower the casket into the ground, the citizens of Velaris standing around to pay their respects.

You don’t notice the hundreds of people who come to offer you a silent nod, a gentle prayer over you, their voices carrying gentle choruses of “he was so brave” and “you should be proud”.

You’re too numb for any of this. You’re too numb to recognize the hand Azriel places on your back, or the hand Feyre clasps into your own, squeezing tightly.

All you can think about is how his hand felt in your own the first time you held it - warm, gentle, comforting. And how it felt the last time you held it - cold, lifeless, gone.

Being a war hero came with a cost.

Only Cassian didn’t have to pay it - those he left behind did.

You’re not sure how much time has passed since Cassian died. You’re not sure if the people of Velaris still mourned him, or were simply wearing the traditional colors of their court.

You sat in one of Cassian’s old tunics, piles of clothes scattered on the floor around you. Your back was to the wall, its cool surface warming with your heat.

You hear movement in the house, but you don’t have the energy or ability to care who’s here.

Someone knocks gently before coming into the room, Azriel’s large frame coming through the door to your chambers. He sees the slightly ajar closet door, and shimmies his way in, sitting next to you amidst the pile of clothes on the floor.

He notes that they all seemed to have been pulled right off their hangers, in a fit of rage or desperation perhaps. Shades of black and red litter the floor, and the realization that it was all Cassian’s clothes causes him to take in a deep breath.

You two sit for a while, Azriel’s wings likely cramped in the small space. Mother knows Cassian complained if he spent more than five minutes in your closet.

Azriel just sits in silence, his shadows gently swirling the floor, searching through the piles.

For what, you’re not sure.

You finally speak, the words hard to form. You didn’t speak much these days - your voice a rare sound for your family’s ears.

“He doesn’t need them to be hung up anymore.”

Azriel sighs, shifting closer to you. He gauges you, looking for a reaction before moving a bit closer.

“He never needed them hung up. Before you he mostly just left his clothes strewn about the room. Drove Nuala and Cerridwen mad.”

You look at him, pulled from your trance of that black shirt Cassian wore when the two of you went on vacation in Adriada. The shirt that fit him so well the two of you did not see the beach at all for the five days you were there.

“They’d complain, saying every night he’d pull his clothes that they neatly hung up and the next morning they’d be strewn about his room,” he shrugs, still confused over how Cassian kept track of where everything was.

“Eventually Rhys told them to stop and to let Cassian do what he wants. No idea how he managed to stay neat and tidy with you.”

Your eyes meet his, and he reaches out a hand for you. It’s the first offer of help you’ve accepted in days. You keep his hand in yours for a long time, sitting amongst Cassian’s clothes.

You were sitting on the small balcony of your home, looking out at the expansive night sky above you. Elbows on knees, collapsing in on yourself.

Eyes red rimmed, tear tracks marking your face. You had never felt so helpless or as hopeless as you did now. Your eyes snag on a dark figure, soaring through the skies, its body getting closer and closer.

Azriel had taken to checking on you every three days now. Make sure you were eating, washing, and moving. Honestly if it weren’t for these biweekly check ins, you’re not sure how you would be faring.

The Illyrian descends next to you, a soft landing as he tucks his wings back in and sits next to you. You two sit in silence for a while, the sounds of the night a melody playing for just you two.

Velaris is dark, few fae lights scattered throughout the city aglow. You breathe deeply, taking in the smell of Azriel next to you. You should tell him, but you haven’t been able to tell anyone all week.

It was eating you up - you knew they’d be supportive, you knew they’d love you and help you in anyway they could. But it would still break their hearts just a bit more.

Your internal debate is ended by the overwhelming turn of your stomach, your lunch from earlier wanting to make a quick exit. You hurriedly get up, running towards your bathroom and throwing yourself on your toilet, narrowly reaching it in time.

Azriel ran after you, making quick work of grabbing your hair before you began your second wave of vomiting. The only sounds in the room are your retching and Azriel’s soothing tunes.

His other hand gently rubs your back as you feel as if you’re going to die. From embarassment or pain, you’re not sure. He waits for you to say what he already suspects, having noted a subtle shift in your scent when he arrived.

You wipe your mouth, not wanting to say the words aloud. The words that Madja had told you three days ago, the words that caused you to shut down until now.

“I’m pregnant,” you say, head leaning against the toilet seat. “All Cass wanted was to be a dad. Now I’m pregnant and he’s dead.”

A forced laugh comes from you.

“It’s not fair, Az.”

Your words hang in the air, and your friend responds by wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you into his lap. He nuzzles his head into your shoulder, his breath shuddering as he cries softly into your hair.

The two of you lay there, the cool bathroom tile digging imprints into your skin as he holds you, tears streaming from both of you.

Several months along in your pregnancy, and Azriel has essentially moved in with you full time. He takes meticulous care of you and the babe - he goes to your appointments with Madja with you, he goes baby shopping with you, he even put together the crib in your room.

He was your late husband’s brother. He was stepping up, knowing that Cassian would want him to help you. And yet your dreams wouldn’t stop being so perverse.

For the past month, every night without fail you dreamt of Azriel. Every dream was different - some of places you’ve gone before, places you only know of because Azriel described them.

The dreams were weird and disorienting, but you left them there. They were dreams.

About how beautiful he was. About his hands, his wings, his shoulders, his thighs.

Every day you’d wake up full of shame at where your mind takes you against your will.

“Az,” you say, a serious look on your face. “Something’s wrong.”

He looks over to you, glasses perched on his nose. The knife in his hand clatters, landing on the cutting board, a piece of carrot tumbling to the floor as he moves to you quickly.

Your breathing becomes more shallow, and you hold your hands out, reaching for his. Once his fingers reach yours, you bring his hands to your bump.

Just as he’s about to ask what the problem is, he feels a soft thump against his scarred hand. He can’t control the soft laugh that comes from him, and he can’t help but cradle your bump just a little tighter.

He looks back up to you, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“I thought something was wrong.”

You smile, “I know - that’s what makes it fun.”

Almost eight months had passed since Cassian’s death, and you were finally able to hear his name without breaking down. Azriel was the only one you would talk to about him, though.

It felt right to talk about Cassian to Azriel. It felt right to plunge yourself back into the memories of him - his boisterous laugh, his insistence on touching someone at all times, his presence in rooms.

It felt right, and the babe in your belly would kick frequently whenever Azriel spoke to you about Cassian, as if they knew who you were talking about.

It felt so right, and yet so wrong. Every night before bed you replayed the memories of the day, desperately trying to insert Cassian into Azriel’s spot in them.

He never fit perfectly into them, the edges of him not quite the right size.

This was too much.

You were an absolute fool to believe you could do this. To not only birth but to raise your dead husband’s babe. Who let you do this? Who thought this was a good idea?

“Hey.”

Azriel’s voice vibrates through you, pulling you from your thoughts, his large frame behind you. Your back pressed to his chest, his arms helping hold your legs up.

You lean your head against him.

“This was a terrible, terrible idea.”

He smiles, “Cassian never was known for good ideas.”

Your face contorts in agony, a strong cramping pain rippling through you.

Azriel takes the wet cloth from the nurse to his left, holding it on your forehead. “I’m so proud of you. You’re doing so well.”

You scoff, “if I was doing well, the babe would be out by now!”

Azriel takes your jabs, your sarcasm, the intense squeezing of his hand in yours. He’ll take everything you throw at him.

After about eight hours, you were blessed by the cauldron with a beautiful boy, tiny wings clinging to his back as he cried.

Azriel’s presence didn’t stop after the babe, Camden, was born. If anything, he spent more time with you. He delegated much of his work as spymaster to support you, even going so far as helping coordinate schedules for Feyre or Nesta to help you bathe.

In the first few weeks, you were able to move around, but you were utterly exhausted. Not just the physical demands of your babe and recovering from birthing a winged babe, but also the emotional toll this took on you left you unable to care much for yourself.

You had thought being bathed would make you feel like a burden, but Feyre and Nesta did everything to make you feel so loved instead. They lit candles, rubbed your back, and told you how proud of you they were constantly. Their words never failed to make you cry, the task at hand feeling impossible if you thought about it too hard.

Eventually, after weeks of sleepless nights, feeling like nothing more than a cow for milk, you and Azriel were able to settle into a routine.

He took care of the babe at night, allowing you decent sleep. He brought Camden to you for his middle of the night feedings. You took care of Camden during the morning through early afternoon while Azriel attended to his duties. The two of you cooked dinner together, Azriel always insisting on washing dishes afterwards.

After a while, it all felt so normal. As if Cassian was never meant to be here for this part.

A few months after your son’s first birthday all Hell broke loose. It was a regular day. The sun still shone as it always does, your son was as beautiful as ever. Azriel was holding Camden in the air, helping him stretch out his wings, when he spoke for the first time.

A soft dada accompanied the little boy’s giggles, followed by Azriel stiffening immediately. You looked to the shadowsinger, and when his eyes met yours, you knew.

As if a golden thread appeared out of thin air, tying a knot from Azriel to you, you could feel him. You pulled an experimental tug in the bond, and he pulled back.

Wide eyes meet each other from across the room, silent except for Camden’s continued giggles. You stare at him bewildered, your expression mirrored back to you on his face.

A high pitched noise starts ringing in your eyes before everything goes black.

“It’s a bit of a cruel joke,” you say. “I want to love him, I want to be with my mate. But what kind of person does that to her deceased husband?”

You had woken up in Rhys’s office twenty minutes ago to your head in Feyre’s lap, her hands gently running through your hair.

You had heard bits of hushed conversation, and you thought you had heard Az, but when you came to, he was nowhere to be seen.

Rhys looks contemplative before saying, “you of all people should know that Cassian would have wanted you to be happy.”

You put your head in your hands, gathering to courage to say your worst thoughts out loud.

“It feels like Cassian died for me. I know he didn’t, but I can’t help but feel like if he had survived, would Azriel still be my mate? He would have let me be with him, yes, but just.”

You sigh, trying to grab the fragmented thoughts in your head and place them together. Rhys lets you, allowing silence to fill the room.

“It would have killed him having to watch me choose Azriel over him. He would have done the respectable thing, he would have stepped back. He would have been happy for us.”

You sigh, “but if it were the other way, if Nesta or Elain were his mate, I’m not sure I could give him up.”

Your words come pouring out quickly before you begin sobbing. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. His hands wrap around your head, and he gently smooths your hair down.

“Feyre and I are immensely happy for you, despite the circumstances. Both of you. I know you might not feel like it, but you made your own family.”

You found Azriel a few hours later in what used to be his room in the townhouse. He hardly stayed here, hardly stayed at any of Rhys’s estates anymore, opting instead for the comfort of the home you two now shared.

“Hi,” you say tentatively, stepping through the door.

“Hi,” he echos back, turning to see you.

“Crazy day,” you say, pulling lightly on the bond. He cracks a smile, but there’s a sadness deep in his gaze that you haven’t seen in months.

He moves towards you, slow and deliberate steps, as if you were a bunny found in the woods easily scared off.

“Do you want this?” He asks, eyes focused on your own.

You nod your head. He nods back.

“I dreamt of you. For months, years even. Since about halfway through my pregnancy, you’ve been in my dreams most nights.”

He watches you speak, letting you say whatever it is you need to. You take a deep breath before continuing.

“I don’t want to forget Cass, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re replacing him. I can love both of you.”

He steps closer, slowly moving towards you until he’s stopped right in front of you, his wings blocking you in.

“It’s unconventional, I understand. And I understand if you don’t want a widow with a child.” You look up towards him, determination in your eyes. “But I am all in.”

He gently cups your cheek, eyes full of conflict. “It won’t be easy,” he muses.

“Nothing about this has been easy, why start now?”

His face slowly moves closer to yours, his lips gentle against your own. His hands still hold you gently, as he kisses you long and slow.

There would be time for passion later, his kiss now is full of the emotions words can’t convey. Adoration, sacrifice, immense grief.

You thought having Azriel kiss you would make you feel like you were betraying Cassian. Instead you feel an overwhelming sense of rightness as your hands cup his jaw back, pouring every ounce of you into him.

You and Azriel look out at your backyard, watching Nyx and Camden run around, play fighting with their swords. The two boys occasionally take short flights, only about a foot or so off the ground.

Azriel wraps his arms around you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. You close your eyes, letting yourself feel this moment, allowing the sounds of the boys playing and your mate’s breathing to lull you into some form of peace you never thought you’d find again.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel fanfic #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

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theeveninghour · 27 days

Text

All My Dreaming | Part 2

Summary: After accepting the mating bond, you and Azriel explore some missed opportunities. That’s it, that’s the tweet.

A/N: Thank you for the love on All My Dreaming!!! Not to be horny on main but I couldn’t stop writing for this story, here’s ~8k more words of extremely sweet and very nasty Azriel. I really wanted to write a fun scene with Mor and the gang Rita’s but couldn’t find a place for it in the first part, so y’all are getting it here. There is like, so very little plot here, I just wanted to write a few more scenes and give some additional backstory on these two because I think they’re cute. Also, I love writing little vignettes for this storyline so I might post a few more, much smaller (lol) snippets of them as an epilogue!

Pairing: Azriel x Winter Court!Reader

WC: 8.4k (i have no self control)

TW: 18+, Minors DNI, smut, cunnilingus, face sitting, more love declarations, Cassian being a lil flirty in flashbacks, soft dom!Az, little hints at jealous!Az, the slightest amount of angst, talk of previous abuse (but nothing too descriptive) and slight breeding kink because Az has one (I feel this in my bones). Azriel is down astronomically bad for the reader in this one y’all. The last 2.7k is literally just porn lol

Part 1

True to his word, Azriel kept you in the meadow until dawn. The sun beginning to paint the night-sky with sepia hued pinks and oranges. You’d long since finished the wine, eaten half the bread, and most of the fruit and cheeses. He laid against the quilt, wings spread magnificently as you laid against him, thigh over his abdomen, head on his shoulder, fingertips tracing idly at the tattoo inking his chest. He hummed contentedly, and you ventured your eyes up his, finding his gaze already on you.

“Can I ask you something?” You tested the waters of this new thing; bond, love, cocoon that enveloped you. “Anything,” he smiled. “When did you know?” You asked softly. He furrowed his brow. “That I loved you?” He asked and you nodded, turning your upper half to rest your chin on the hand that had stilled against his chest. He laughed. Mother above, he laughed so warmly that it made your eyes crinkle and lips spread into a grin from the sound alone.

“You’re going to hate this,” he said as a preface, smiling, dimples appearing as he looked to you, “but it was a few weeks after you joined us, and Cassian mouthed off at you about being late to training.” You raised a brow. “You fell in love with me, while I was being…….degraded?” You asked, a little deadpan. “No,” he shook his head in correction, still chuckling. “It was what you did after.”

Cassian kept a strict training schedule. He trained in the early hours of the morning on the balcony at the House of Wind, ate breakfast, then moved to outdoor weapons and flight training off the banks of the Sidra until the early afternoon. He was strenuous and strict in his routine, as was Azriel. You’d begun training with them the week before, and if you were totally honest, you weren’t fully comfortable with the two brothers yet. Cassian was rough around the edges, brutish, with a mouth that often got him into trouble. Azriel was quiet, observant in a way that unnerved you. You’d caught his eyes following you often and you hated the warmth that pressed into your cheeks when he did.

Rhysand had warned them to give you time to adjust. You’d been brutally attacked by Beron’s dogs only a few months ago and forced to live in the wilds for nearly six weeks, eating foraged fauna and what game you could kill with a makeshift spear you’d carved using sharpened obsidian and a walnut branch. Your body grew weary in those weeks; endless fear, starvation, and sleepless would do that. You were still a jittery little thing, like a wild animal, jumpy when Amren or Mor managed to sneak up on you by accident.

Azriel recognized these symptoms and allowed you a leniency he didn’t normally offer his trainees, but trauma, physical and mental, took a toll on the body as he well knew. He’d gifted you a golden hilted dagger on your second week with them and asked if you knew how to use it. You held it in your palm, noting the blue stone that sat in the bolster and double edged blade that you could see your reflection in. You looked a little gaunt, but your cheeks held color again, your lips were fuller, no longer dry and chapped from mountain winds and cold nights.

“I know how to use a blade Shadowsinger,” you said in an even tone. You didn’t call him by his name then. You also called Cassian ‘General’ to his face, and ‘asshole’ behind his back. “Most females learn to use them,” you followed up, “out of necessity.” Azriel hated to dwell on those words, hated to think about what you’d gone through before Beron, what your father had done. He nodded once, and placed a sheath and belt down on the table next to you before taking his leave.

You’d awoken late for training that day, the sun had rose to a bright position in the mid-morning sky and you knew you’d never hear the end of it from Cassian. You dressed slowly into your training leathers, belting your dagger around your hips and took a deep breath. You walked to the balcony, noticing the males absence and winnowed to the training grounds at the Sidra. Cassian’s eyes found yours immediately and he sheathed his broadsword, turning to look at you. Azriel was perched on a fallen tree stump nearby, and his eyes traced your face, noting the darkened circles there. He’d heard you screaming in your sleep last night and his heart ached at the sound, his shadows slinking off to find you.

“So you didn’t forget,” Cassian said, muscular arms crossing over his chest. “Tell me something, little girl, do you even want to be here?” He stressed the word want in his sentence in a way that had both you and Azriel narrowing your eyes. “This is the third day this week that you’ve been late to training, and the second that you’ve missed morning warm ups altogether.” He huffed a disbelieving laugh, “I’m beginning to think Rhys was wrong about you.” Azriel went still and he felt a bit of rage creep up his spine at his brother’s harshness.

In the blink of an eye, you’d unsheathed your dagger and thrown it at the Illyrian general. It whizzed past his head, nicking his cheek, and landed in the training dummy behind him. “Fuck you,” you’d growled teeth bared, as you shifted a stance that begged for a fight. Cassian turned and pulled the knife from the dummy’s eye socket, before throwing in the dirt at your feet. “A little to the left next time you try to kill me,” he smirked. “If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have missed, asshole,” you said as you fixed him with a glare and your jaw ticked in anger. Cassian’s face broke into a shit eating grin and he laughed, which made you sneer with frustration.

“Good to see you’re still alive in there,” he said smiling, “I was hoping we’d see that spark.” Your anger dissolved as fast as it built up. You reached down to pick your dagger from the dirt and sheathed it at your waist. “Seriously, Cassian, fuck you,” you said and grabbed a bow and quiver of arrows before stalking off to train alone. Cassian sighed and went to follow you but Azriel rose to feet to stop him, stepping into his path. “Let her calm down,” he suggested, placing a hand to his brother’s arm. Cassian sighed. He knew he was being rough with you, but it the only thing left he could think to do. “We’ve tried nice, brother. Tough love worked on Amren, maybe it’ll work on her too,” Cassian spoke softly before trotting after you.

A few paces off you’d begun firing arrows into a target carved in the bark of an elm tree, teeth grinding. Cassian was right in his intent though, you had to get out of your own head if you were to move forward. You pulled an arrow from the quiver and nocking it on the bowstring and pulling it back until the bow met the pile at the tip. You heard him coming before you saw him.

“Listen, I’m just—” you heard Cassian’s voice and turned then, aiming and firing in his direction. The arrow flew through the air towards the General. The feathered fletching caught the bun at the top of his head, pulling hairs loose, before the tip burrowed into the tree behind him with an echoing noise.

“Mother above, you could’ve killed me!” The General shouted, face blanched. Azriel’s lip quirked up and he looked to you again, you were smiling, closed mouth but smiling, and he felt his heart grow warm at the sight. “I told you, asshole, I don’t fucking miss when I’m aiming to kill.”

You laughed aloud, cheeks warm as you buried your face in Azriel’s chest. “I’ll go around threatening Cassian more often if it gets me a mate in the end.” The male at your side chuckled warmly and his hand found yours on his sternum. “He still talks about it, you know?” He offered with a shake of his head. “It was precisely the kind of thing Nesta would’ve done too.”

You smiled back. “Good to know you Illyrians have a type.” He looked to you then and he smiled, eyes tracing your lips, nose, lashes, and the Winter white hair haloing your face. “Not a type, just blessings from the Mother,” he murmured softly. His hand trailed up your arm and pushing your hair off your shoulder and down your back. You blushed, warmth blooming on your chest and running up your neck to your face, painting your skin pink.

“Gods, who knew you had such a silver tongue,” you said chastising, looking to where his fingers played with yours as they rested on his chest. “You used to be so quiet,” you added, letting a small laugh escape you. Azriel shrugged and pushed up on an elbow as his hand left yours to run up your arm and cup your cheek. “Good to know you’re still thinking about my tongue,” he whispered before kissing you for the millionth time that night.

It was mid-morning when Azriel ported you both to the River House. It was surprisingly empty, and you made your way to the kitchen to seek out food, still in the dress from the night before, though it was now wrinkled on your body. Rhysand had stocked the kitchen it would seem, as you found an array of fruits, vegetables, and meats in the cold storage there.

“I guess Rhys was serious about quarantining us here,” you laughed before looking over your shoulder to find your mate, leaned against the counter, watching you with warmth. “If I cook for you again, are you going to ravish me?” You asked jokingly, pulling a knife from the block to begin prepping carrots for a quick stew.

He pressed forward then, coming behind you to push you into the marble, bringing his lips your shoulder and his hands to your belly. “I plan on ravishing you either way,” he said, lips tracing to the hollow below your ear, a spot that made you whimper as he’d found out the night before and catalogued in his head. You pressed your hips back against his, loving the feel of his body against your own.

“Very interested in that, though I think it’ll be easier on a full stomach, so maybe go bathe while I cook,” you said, turning your head and nudging your nose into his own. He laughed again and the noise set your heart to skittering. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to having him like this, so free and warm.

You’d seen Azriel in every form. The warrior that fought with skilled precision, teeth bared as he cut down his adversaries; the Spymaster that tortured, maimed, and killed Night Court threats; the brother that took his friend’s teasing in stride, lips quirking silently as he shook his head. You’d never had him like this though, laughing and full of affection, touching and grasping so freely.

His hand found your chin and you knew he’d heard your thoughts again from the look in his eyes. His fingers stroked up your jawline, fingers pushing hair behind your ear. “There is no one in this realm, on this continent, male or female, that has as much of me as you do on any given day,” he whispered before he pushed away to stroll out of the kitchen and up the stairs. You let a shaky breath go from your chest. He was trouble.

Later, after you’d both bathed and eaten until your bellies were full, you sat at the dining room table, sipping a glass of wine. “You asked me this morning when I knew,” he started, setting down his wine glass as his index finger began tracing circles into red table cloth next to it. “When did you know?” You laughed and took another sip of wine, you’d need it to keep up with him. “Mine’s not as violent,” you fixed him with a pointed look and he smirked.

You took a deep breath, “it was several months later, at Rita’s.” He laughed warmly in disbelief. “What?” Surely you weren’t serious? “What in the Cauldron could’ve happened at Rita’s to make you fall in love with me?” His eyes were twinkling under the fae lights.

Mor had begged you to go and you’d told her no at least thirteen times. You’d grown fond of the blonde as had she with you. She’d helped you immensely in your first months with the Night Court. She knew what it was to be hollowed out by trauma, particularly trauma that extended from those in the Autumn Court. She also knew bad fathers. You were grateful to her and you’d opened to her in a way you’d hadn’t yet with anyone else in Rhys’ Inner Circle.

“Please?” She tried again, “We can go into the city and get you a dress, I’ll even pay for it!” You rolled your eyes, “You won’t give up until I agree, huh?” She’d laughed then. Her laugh was the kind of full bodied female laugh you hoped you’d get back some day. “You already know me so well, Little One.” She nudged your shoulder, before patting your cheek and leaving you alone to dress for the day ahead.

Little One had started a few months prior when you poked fun at Cassian during a dinner. You’d been ready to maul the General in your first weeks, but you’d settled into a peaceful truce. He’d been talking loudly about the female he’d been with the night prior, all bravado and innuendo. “Amazing you were able to land her at all with that ego,” you’d muttered taking a sip of your wine. Amren sat across from you and her lips quirked as she looked your way in silent agreement. She and Cassian were also at odds often. Cassian slid his eyes to you and they narrowed as you feigned innocence, setting your glass down and looking to your nails. “Did you just mock me, Little One?” He asked, head tilting as he watched you pick at a cuticle.

You met his eyes and raised a brow. “Tell me Cassian, is what they say about Illyrian wingspans true?” You said, eyes glancing to Rhysand and Azriel, both looking thrilled at this development. “Cause as I see it, you look to be outmatched.” The room went quiet before Cassian bellowed a loud laugh, bringing a hand to his chest. “Cauldron save us, she’s got jokes,” he snickered and your lips curved into a smile. He turned to you then, lips smirking. “For the record, it’s not the wingspan that matters, it’s how you use it.” His rebuttal caused you to let out a breathless laugh as you picked up your wine and rolled your eyes.

Mor had dragged you into the shopping district of Velaris to find an appropriate dress. The first store was a bust, and the second was looking to be the same. “Come on, Little One, there has to be one you’re interested in!” She’d said, voice going a little whiny on the tail end of the sentence. You’d scanned the boutique again, and noticed a dress hanging in the far back corner that was looked like threaded starlight. “That one,” you pointed and her eyes slid to it before her lips broke into a knowing grin. “You go to the dressing room and I’ll grab it,” she offered and you’d nodded, wanting this to be over as soon as possible.

She’d brought you the dress and you shut the curtain in her face as she laughed. You’d undressed slowly, eyes scanning skin as it appeared. Your eyes zoomed in on the heavy scarring at your legs, Gods you hated those markings. Once the dress slid on, you pulled up the zipper at the side and adjusted the bust line.

You loosed a loud breath, it was…. generous in the amount of skin it showed and the style screamed Night Court. You turned and realized the back went down to your bottom, showcasing the two dimples at the small of your back. The slit at the side came all the way to your hip. ‘Cauldron, this isn’t a dress, this is a scrap of fabric,’ you’d thought.

You turned and opened the curtain stepping out to find Mor looking at you with an open mouth. “Are you sure you aren’t into females?” She’d asked. “Because I’d love to keep you to myself tonight.” You’d blushed and laughed heartily. “Is it good?” You asked cautiously, turning in a circle. “Good? Little One, the males will be on their knees,” she said eyes twinkling with mischief.

You’d bought the dress despite the insecurities and gone home the House of Wind to get dressed. Mor had sent Nuala and Cerridwen to you to help with your hair and make up and you’d thanked them profusely.

As the moon rose for the night, you stood in your quarters staring at the mirror on the wall opposite your bed. You had looked lively again, your cheeks were fuller and the hollows under your eyes were less bruised than they had been months prior. You sat on a bench at the foot of your bed and started to pull on your heels, a leg shining through the slit of the dress.

Once you’d buckled the strap your shoes, you stood, a little wobbly. It’d nearly a year since you’d worn heels and the last time you had, you were set to be engaged to the Autumn Court princeling. You refused to dwell on that and moved toward the door, opening it and stepping into the hall.

Cassian was exiting of his room as you were shutting your door and your eyes met down the corridor. He let out a wolf whistle and began walking your way. “Well, well, well,” he started and you braced for his comment, “don’t you look pretty enough to eat.” You grimaced and looked at him before scoffing, “pig.” His laughter made your lips curve into a smile.

You strolled down the steps to find Rhysand and Azriel waiting there. Rhysand looked to you and smiled warmly, “You clean up nice, Little One.” Azriel’s eyes found yours next and his jaw dropped, then shut quickly, muscle ticking. A gloved hand at his side set into a fist and he could hear the knuckles crack. “I think she’ll be fighting the males off tonight,” Mor piped, appearing next to you, “wouldn’t you lot agree?”

Rhysand and Cassian hummed their agreements but Azriel’s eyes couldn’t look away from your form. The dress draped your body like liquid starlight, the slit at your hip had his fists clenching at the desire to touch. Mor walked you past the males and he caught glimpse of your exposed back and something primal reared its head shouting at him to grasp, lick, bite until you were covered in his marks. Cassian flanked the Shadowsinger and whistled low, eyes following you. “I’ll have to find her on the dance floor tonight,” he said, eyes gleaming as they traced your retreating form. Azriel, though he loved his brother dearly, wanted to rip his throat out for even glancing at you.

Rita’s was littered with intoxicated fae. Mor grabbed your arm and pulled you to the bar, while Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel made their way to the section explicitly reserved for their use. As you stood at the bar with Mor, a male came up to you, leaning into your space and asking your name.

The male ventured a touch to your arm and you leaned away, disliking the overt physical attention. As he spoke, a gloved hand appeared between you and Azriel pushed his way into the space without apology or acknowledgement. “Hey, I was talking to her!” The male tried to protest loudly before Azriel turned and fixed him with a devastating look, causing the male to wilt before putting his hands up in surrender and walking away.

You stumbled out a laugh as he turned back to you. “I think you may have hurt his feelings,” you said smiling, looking to the Shadowsinger. He eyes were already on you again, tracing your face, and hair, the long line of your neck. “That’s much too bad,” he said, signaling the bartender over and you both ordered a round of drinks.

“You look beautiful tonight,” the words came out of Azriel in a rushed whispered, as if he’d forced them out against his will. You turned to meet his eyes and your face warmed at the look there. “I was so nervous to wear this,” you breathed, “the last time I was in a dress and heels like these, I was engaged to marry a Vanserra.” You let out a small, cynical laugh. “Gods, I’m so glad I left.”

Azriel softened then. “He didn’t deserve you, Autumn didn’t deserve you, I hope you know that,” he’d said, gloved hands laying flat on the bar top, the length of his middle finger grazing your own. You wanted to reach out to them, to ask why he wore the gloves around you, but you resisted.

“For what it’s worth,” he continued, “I’m also glad you left, I’m glad you’re here most of all.” You met his hazel eyes again and traced his face. He was likely one of the most beautiful males you’d ever seen and he was being awfully sweet with you. He looked to Rhys then, the High Lord likely speaking into his mind. He smiled turning back to you, “Rhysand says he’s also glad you’re here,” he said mockingly and rolled his eyes. You laughed, a small tinkering thing, that made Azriel’s heart beat quicken. “Thanks, Az,” you smiled broadly at him and he knew for sure and certain you would ruin him.

You turned to your drink then as the bartender sat it down in front of you. You picked it up and took a long sip. If Azriel kept looking at you like that and speaking to you in hushed tones that made your heart race, you’d need about five more of these.

You heard him take a deep, steadying breath at your side, turned to look at him, brow furrowing slightly. You were ready to ask if he was alright when he finally spoke. “Cassian said he was going to ask you to dance tonight,” he ventured and you snorted. ‘Of course he did,’ you thought with a roll of your eyes and a shake of your head. “Would you allow me to be your first?” He asked, holding out a gloved hand.

You looked to his hand then back to his hopeful hazel eyes, and you blinked a little slowly, a little disbelievingly. Just when you thought you figured him out, he threw you for a loop. You took his hand and let him lead you to the dance floor. As your body moved with his, you couldn’t help but wish for forever in this moment, forever in his hands, and his eyes. Mother above, you were in trouble.

“That dress was pure sin, Little One,” Azriel smirked. “And I told you, I am quite fond of dancing.” You huffed a laugh and looked to him, a little bashful. Azriel laughed softly again. “Cassian pouted for days after that night,” he spoke, “he was mad I stole you away.” You wondered if Cassian could tell how utterly smitten you were after that night. “I think he was a little infatuated with you in those early days too.”

You grimaced. “That’s much too bad,” you said, echoing his words from centuries prior. You stood then and stepped towards him to halt at his side, leaning down to press a kiss to his hair. “I always had eyes for you, baby.”

You trailed a hand up his arm to his shoulder, then back to the shoulder joint of his wing, tracing the bone up to the clawed crest. His breath guttered out of him as he closed his eyes, brows furrowing at the sensation that zipped down his spine and settled in his lower abdomen.

“One more question for you,” you said softly. “No,” he growled out, “I’ve had enough questions, I want to have you again.” His eyes opened and looked to you, scarred hands grasping your hips, fingers digging into the flesh there. “One more and I’ll give you whatever you want,” you offered. He raised a brow. “Whatever I want?” He questioned and you nodded. “Even if I want to bend you over this table and take you from behind until you come all over my cock?”

Your eyes watched his predatory gaze and a feline grin appeared on your face. You laughed again, “considering that’s a win-win, I’ll gladly trade for that.” He laughed too and rolled his eyes in fondness. “Fine,” he conceded, “one more question, mate.” His hand traced back, grasping the flesh of your ass through your thin silk housedress and you gasped, “then I get to have you in every way I want.”

You had to shake the lust from your thoughts, focusing on the question that had been circling your mind since your return to River House. “Why didn’t you to tell me of the bond?” You asked softly, hand resting on the arm that held you. He took a deep breath, he should’ve expected this eventually, but in all honesty, he’d hoped to put it off as long as possible.

“I just mean,” you took a shaky breath, growing a little nervous. “It snapped so early for you, and I—” you swallowed, “I wouldn’t have turned you away, surely you must know that?” Your eyes found his and he saw the imploring look there, brows slanting as your eyes swam with emotions. He took a grounding breath and his hand traced up your hip to your back as he pulled you in to bury his face in the soft of your stomach.

“I was scared,” he said, though it came out muffled. You combed fingers through his hair soothingly and he tilted his head up to face you. “You were—” he stopped himself, “you are the single most magical thing in this realm.” He spoke softly, as if he was scared he’d burst the bubble of newfound love that had surrounded the two of you in the last few weeks.

“When I was a child, my half brothers tortured me,” he started, eyes wincing. “They did this, you know,” he held up a scarred hand. You nodded, Rhysand told you of Azriel’s brothers and father years ago when the subject of Windhaven came up and how you would likely not be sent on any missions there. “For my gift with shadows, they’d called me every name under the sun, insisted I was a bastard child, beat me, shunned me, cast me out. I was alone until Rhys and his mother took me in.” Your eyes teared up when you thought of how isolated he must’ve felt, how damaged. You knew feeling well.

“When I knew I loved you, I resolved myself as unworthy of your gaze, your touch, anything,” he sighed and his hands pulled from you to fall in his lap. “I figured I’d been alone for centuries up until that point, and it was likely I’d be alone forever.” You pulled one of his hands into your own and brought the knuckles to your lips. “I love you,” you said softly, lips resting against the marred skin there, “I hope you know that.”

He looked to you and he smiled, a small watery smile as his eyes closed and he nodded his head. There was that gift again. “You know,” he said, “more than your beauty, or strength, I admire your courage and vulnerability. I think that’s what scared me the most.” He spoke softly again, wanting to preserve the shroud of gentle love that surrounded the two of you.

“I saw how you were with Mor and Amren. How you cared for Cass, despite his explosive anger when Rhys went Under the Mountain for fifty years. How you attended Rhys when he returned in shambles, traumatized and broken.” He looked to you, eyes shining. “You took it all in stride with such….. care and endless love and I—” he paused, bottom lip trembling. “I didn’t think I’d ever be worthy of your heart, of your attention, so I took what I could get. Your glances, your smiles, the teasing at dinners. I took it all and I made myself content with it,” he shuttered out a fragile, broken breath, eyes falling to the shadows that gathered at his feet attempting to console their master.

“I’ve loved you in secret for two centuries, Little One, I’ve loved you so much my chest ached and I thought I would die from the unsung bond that resided there. My soul would know yours in any life. At the ends of the earth in total darkness, it would still find you.” He let out a shuddering breath, “you’re the other half of me.” His eyes found yours then and the look there made you feel overwrought with emotion.

You and Azriel had been friends for two centuries. You laughed and cried together. You’d shared meals and secrets, dances and fleeting glances, little chaste touches. You’d told him of your father, of Beron, showed him your scars. You’d pined for him for just as long and to know he’d silently yearned for you in return, your heart felt like it might break apart.

“The bond snapped for me during the war,” you offered him a small secret of your own and his eyes found yours, going wide at the revelation.

The second war with Hybern had been a brutal thing. Feyre and Cassian had taken to recruiting help out of the Ancient Prison on the northern shore of the Night Court due to Prythian’s limited numbers. You’d known it was a suicide mission going in and you’d nearly been right. You’d fought alongside death gods and monsters alike in a battle that would be legend for ages to come.

“I wrote you a letter before we left for battle,” another secret, but for him, you’d bare your soul. “I was going to tell you then,” you continued, “I’d been in love with you for 189 years at that point. I was so far gone for you but I’d assumed, that if you wanted me, I would’ve known. You would’ve said something, anything. So I put it all in a letter, worried I wouldn’t return alive.” His breath hitched, remembering the sight of you impaled on a sword, bleeding out in his arms. He’d taken the soldier’s head off their body as penance and it still didn’t feel like enough. You let out a small gurgling laugh, throat tight, eyes wet with tears. “Sometimes I can’t believe I did.”

You took a steadying breath and leaned to kiss his forehead, his eyes closing from the contact, mouth humming. You leaned your cheek on the crown of his head, your thumb rubbing soothing circles in the space behind his ear. His hands went around to your back, nose and cheek resting against the cradle of your chest as he listened to your heart, still beating strong beneath. The two of you were the sort of image that artists carved into marble, the picture of lovers so inseparably bound that they were one eternally, in every life.

“In that letter I apologized for not telling you sooner, said I didn’t need the Cauldron to know it was you my soul sang for. That you were the one the stars had fated me to meet.” He clenched his eyes shut from where his head rested on your rib cage. Every word you uttered was like a poultice to his damaged soul, filling the cracks that had been there since his adolescence.

He was wrong when he’d thought you’d ruin him. No, you’d save him, from the darkness that encroached his mind, the insecurities that lingered there. You were a flower blooming against all odds in the shadows, and he’d do anything for you. All his wasted centuries of dreaming had been given a name and form in you.

“I’m glad I ran from Autumn that day, glad it was Rhys that found me in the wilds, glad it was the Night Court that saved me, but more than anything, I am glad that every step I’ve taken in this life has led me straight to you.” Your hand dragged forward, over his cheek, to gently tip his chin up to face your gaze. “May you never doubt the depths of my love for you.” You kissed his forehead then before moving your lips to the space between his brows, the tip of his nose. His eyes fell shut and his hands came to hold on tightly to your wrists for fear he’d float away. You kissed his cheek, and eyelids, before making your way to his mouth.

This kiss was just as electrifying as the first and he pressed his insistent mouth to yours desperately. He pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth and took your gasp as the opportunity to slip his tongue against your own. He could kiss you for a millennia and he would not get enough. He wanted all that you had to give and everything after that too. Nothing, not even flying, could compare to how his heart sped when you kissed him like this. He poured centuries of yearning into it.

He pulled off of your mouth and kissed the corner of your lips before leaning back to gaze into your eyes. “I’ll need to tell Rhysand not to expect us back for a few months,” he said, hand coming up to brush a stray hair behind the shell of your ear. Your brain, still two paces behind from that kiss, registered what he was saying and you let out a breathless laugh. “Months? Thought the frenzy was a few weeks?” You replied, still smiling, tears drying and he shrugged, fingertips tracing the skin at your collarbone. “I’ve got two centuries of love to make up for,” he stated softly before smiling in a feral, cunning way, “and I plan on taking my time.”

Azriel ported you to the bedroom and you’d laughed, “I can walk you know.” He smiled, leaning down, kissing your cheek. “Save your energy, Little One.” He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you to stand between his legs. He allowed himself to look at you, unhurried, a little predatory. You did the same, eyes passing over tanned skin and freckles, tattoos and scars as your gaze made it’s way down to his hips, where you notice his length pressing tightly against the front of his pants. Your eyes trace back up to his, cheeks a little pink, only to find him smirking.

“Are you ever going to be sated?” You laughed. You pulled the hem of your dress up to lean over him and settle a knee next to his hip as you crawled into his lap. He hummed, pulling your hips to his own. He traced his nose along the skin of your throat, inhaling your scent, committing to memory as he nosed the silk strap of your housedress, pushing it down your shoulder and pressing his mouth to the skin there. “For you? Never.” His tongue laved at the length of your throat, as he made his way up before bringing his mouth to yours.

This kiss was slower than the one you’d shared in the dining room. Tongues entwining, teeth biting. He dove deeper, sucking against your tongue before licking along the bow of your upper lip. He rocked his hips up to meet your own, his cock sliding against your slit in a way that had you gasping. His hand pushed your gown up over your hips to your waist and his gaze fixated on the center of your hips, you’d forgone underwear after your bath. “No panties?” He breathed into your mouth. “Maybe I should’ve taken you on the dining room table after all.”

You laughed, rutting your hips against his own, loving the sound that rumbled in his chest. You pulled the little silk dress up and over your head, baring yourself entirely to his gaze. “There will time for that,” you said, voice laced with promise, “but I’d like for you to take me in a bed, properly.” He gave a little laugh then, bringing his face to your own, teasing at your mouth again. “Under the stars wasn’t romantic enough?” His hands found your hips and fingertips pressed into the flesh there. You were sure you’d be bruised all over come tomorrow.

He leaned back pulling your hips up his abdomen. “C’mere,” he commanded, jerking his head in instruction as he laid flat upon the bed, wings spreading in full. He looked like a god this way, but the way he looked at you, muscles rippling as he tensed, jaw ticking, hair debauched, love bites down the tanned column of his throat from your mouth, eyes heavy lidded with lust; if he was a god then certainly you were his goddess. He growled then the noise escaping him unbidden as he hauled you higher to his chest, your hand shooting out to his shoulder to steady yourself.

“You are a goddess and I am but a hopeless disciple,” his voice had pitched deep with want, desire alight in his eyes and you thought you might never tire of seeing him this hungry for you. His fingers dug into your thighs and he hooked your knees to pull you higher. “Let me worship you until I find absolution.” He pulled you to his chin, teeth nipping at the flesh of your inner thighs. His found your eyes again and he nodded to you. “You’re going to sit on my face, sweet one, and I am going to feast on you like the goddess you are.”

Your breath left you in a shuttering broken gasp, and you leaned up, shuffling the last few inches. His arms wrapped around your legs, caging you to his face as hands came around to open your cunt to his view. He let out a primal noise that had the air leaving your lungs in pant and your hands grasped the headboard in some pitiful attempt at grounding yourself. He nosed your clit before pulling you down on his mouth, suckling at you like a man starved.

His tongue pressed flat against your clit and you thought you might break apart. You were sensitive from the night before and you had to actively try not to rock down against his face. As if reading your thoughts, he pulled you forward, hands grasping your hips and rutting you against his hot mouth. You couldn’t help the shuddering moan that left your throat and he hummed along with you, the vibrations sending shocks up your spine.

He circled his tongue in a pattern, quick flicks then slow drags of friction that had pleasure zipping through you until your thighs were twitching, nails digging into the wood of the headboard, hips rocking on his mouth. He nosed at your clit as his tongue slipped down to circle your opening, collecting the wetness that gathered there, groaning at your taste. His lips returned to your clit and he sucked it into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, speeding the flicking of his tongue until your hands were shaking and your moans keened to a higher octave.

“Azriel,” you gasped, a trembling hand found his hair, nails scratching. “Az — fucking Gods.” You looked down to him between your thighs and he watched you, the definition of sin. His cheeks had grown pink, brows furrowed, hazel eyes gone molten as he nuzzled his face into you. He unhanded your thigh to slide back to your ass, fingernails digging into the ample flesh there before he released it and his open palm came into fierce contact with the cheek. You jolted at the impact and the sound that left you was the highest, most trembling whine he’d heard come out of you. He catalogued it in his mind for later.

His hand soothed the skin at your behind before smacking the skin again, the contact rippling across the flesh like a tiny earthquake. Your hips tilted against his chin faster, more desperate and your moans grew closer together, a little more frantic as you felt yourself approaching your peak. His tongue circled you again before he sucked the button into his mouth and began a steady, insistent pattern.

You could feel the pleasure focusing, your lower belly tightening. “Az— I swear I’m—” you gasped and your head fell back, exposing your chest and neck to his greedy view. “I’m going to come, baby,” you whined deep, hips canting in tight circles, desperate for release. He hummed an affirmation and his hands grasped your hips to guide your through it. Your release hit and the moan that left you was shattering.

You leaned back, hands finding purchase on his chest, as he pressed kisses to your thighs. “Gods,” you gasped, falling to his side as you moved off of him and pressed a hand to your chest, catching your breath. “Fuck me,” your eyes shut for a moment and you felt his lips pressing tender kisses to your eyelids. He kissed to your cheek, the corner of your mouth, before whispering devastation there. “I told you my love, I want to take you apart slow.”

His lips came to your chest, pressing a kiss to the jugular notch at the base of your throat between the clavicles. “There is no war,” kiss, “no mission,” another kiss, moving south to the globe of your breast, “no threat this time.” He breathed into your sternum, tongue tracing the skin of your cleavage.

You were right that Azriel was mouthy. Mother above, now that the gates had opened, he was bent on taking everything from you and you would let him. You would let him shatter you to pieces, trusting he’d put you back together again.

“You’re wearing too much,” you complained, fingers pulling at the waist of his trousers, which seemed to have grown impossibly tight around his hardness. Your hand pushed under the band and fingers grasped him firmly, his gasp escaping directly into the skin over your heart. He rutted into your hand, mouth coming up to your own as he kissed you desperately, all teeth and tongue.

You pulled back from the kiss and fixed him with an imploring look. “Can I put my mouth on you now?” You asked softly, batting your eyelashes a bit, just shy of begging. He felt desire rip through him, his cock giving a jerk. A growl released from his throat. “As much as I want you on your knees for me,” he breathed deeper. “As much as I want to fuck this pretty little mouth,” his thumb tugged at your bottom lip and you leaned forward to pull it between your lips, tonguing the scarred skin there as you sucked.

His eyes fixated on the action, pupils blown wide. He pulled his thumb from your mouth and spread his hand to grasp your neck at the height of your throat, “I thought our bargain was every way that I wanted you?” He watched your eyes flutter as he squeezed from the sides, your breath hitching, cunt growing wetter. He could smell your arousal and the feral need of the newly minted bond had him feeling utterly primal. “And right now, I want you on your hands and knees, begging as I take you from behind.” His voice had pitched deep, and you thought you might never recover from this.

His hand traced down to your wrist, pulling it from his cock and then he patted your ass. “Be a good girl for me.” Your breath came out shaky and you nodded, scrambling to turn around and bend down to present yourself for him. A pleased hum settled in his chest as he stood to slip off his trousers before kneeling behind you. He ran his eyes up the expanse of your back, the scars that now resided there. He’d kill anyone who threatened you again, he’d take hands from their bodies if they touched you.

He watched your shoulders roll as you adjusted your weight, and he was reminded of every backless gown you’d worn in the last two centuries. How he had never allowed himself to touch you in the way he wanted.

He ran a scarred hand up the center of your back, leaning forward and grasping your neck from behind, bringing you up and into the long line of his front. His nose trailed your shoulder and his lips found the spot below your ear again. His teeth came in contact with the flesh there, biting then pressing his tongue into the skin to soothe the sting. The little whimper you let out made him smile, he loved you like this. His other hand reached down to guide his cock to your core, hips dragging the length through to slick there. His brain catalogued each sound that you made, he was mapping you out slowly, learning your body and memorizing all.

The hand holding your neck released its grip, and he pushed you back forward, your hands trembled as they came to hold your weight.

Before leaving you, his fingers gathered your hair and he wrapped the length of it around his hand once before fisting and pulling, causing a low moan to escape you. “Hold on, little mate.” His voice ground out and he guided himself into your warm cunt, pulling back once, then twice to work you open until he sheathed himself fully.

His hips were flush against the flesh of your ass as he ground in and your breath began to come in pants. You were so in over your head and you loved it. He laughed, ‘I heard that, my love,’ he spoke into your mind. ‘Let me know if you want to stop.’ You nearly laughed aloud. ‘As if,’ you repeated your words from the night before.

His hand tugged at your hair in response as he pulled out to the tip and slammed back in, hard and deep. Your back arched and your arms threatened collapsed. He began a slow and steady pace, rutting to the hilt and pulling out before slamming back home, skin slapping against skin. You could hear the loud suck of your cunt on every pull, the noise itself was desperately erotic, and Azriel fucking loved it. He wanted you like this like always. He wanted to stay in the warmth of your cunt for the rest of his days. He picked up his pace and groaned when he felt you clench around him as a wanton moan escaped you.

His hand released your hair and he leaned over your form, kissing your shoulders, holding you tightly as he pushed back to the hilt and ground in, small cants of his hips causing your breath to tremble.

“Azriel, baby, you’re gonna ruin me,” you spoke quietly, head falling forward. He laughed darkly, biting at the skin at the top of your spine. His hand grasped the front of your throat and brought you back up into him, mouthing at your shoulder. “Tell me you’re mine,” he ground out, hips pushing faster. His other hand found its way to your front, tracing down your soft stomach to rub slow circles at your clit. “Tell me you’re mine and let me fuck you into oblivion.”

You groaned feeling your orgasm crawling up your spine, cunt tensing. “I’ve been yours for two centuries,” you gasped out, breathless, head falling back to his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. He growled out something primal, but you continued, delirious with pleasure as his fingers and cock broke you apart. “I’ll give you anything.” His fingers tightened at your neck and he slammed to the hilt, grinding in.

“Anything?” He questioned, voice shaky with need. “Would you let me take you apart? Would you let me ruin your sweet cunt daily? Would you let me fuck a baby into you?” Your mind blanked and your voice pitched into a deep moan, a base desire possessing you. “Yes,” you nodded, breathless. “All of it,” you gasped, “anything for you, mate.” His eyes pinched shut, a low whine escaped somewhere from the pits of him. Mother above. His fingers squeezed your neck and he picked up the pace, fucking you faster. You shook with each impact of his hips, your breath leaving you in small whines.

The scarred tips of his fingers worked your clit faster. “You’ll give me anything?” He questioned again, breathless, pace faltering as his own release tightened at the base of spine. “Come for me, my love, come with me.” Your breath caught at your throat as your cunt tightened impossibly around him and he groaned deep. You called his name as your climax hit and he keened a low whine, hips grinding into you, his seed painting your walls.

He released your throat and gave a shaky laugh as he grasped your chin to find your mouth. The kiss was utterly depraved and your walls fluttered again, making him groan into your mouth. You pulled back and your eyes found his over your shoulder. “A baby, huh?” You spoke, voice a little wobbly. He wanted to shrink under the weight of your gaze, the question there. “Not yet,” he spoke softly, “but if you do decide to gift me with a child, I’ll be the luckiest male alive.” You smiled and kissed him, softer this time, heart singing at the promise there.

He pulled out of you and let you collapse against the bed, rolling over to rest at your back. His eyes found your cunt and he watched with rapt obsession as his release leaked from you. You traced his gaze and a laugh escaped you. “Come here, my love,” you spoke softly, opening your arms. “I want to get some rest before you go feral again.”

He smiled, laughing lightly before crawling up the bed to where you awaited him. He settled into your embrace, head resting on your chest while his restless fingers began idly tracing the skin of your arm. Your fingers set to combing through the strands of his hair and his eyes closed, pleased with gentle intimacy of the action. “I love you,” he spoke softly, exhaustion beginning to creep in on him. You smiled, fingers trailing to his back, caressing the skin at the base of his wing. “As I love you,” you whispered, “more than anything.” He hummed and nuzzled to the skin of your chest as darkness overtook him.

#azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #i love this bat boy sm #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #Azriel smut #bat boys x reader #bat boys #azriel acosf #azriel acomaf #This is utter filth guys #These two really went at it for like 24 hours straight

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shadowandlightt · 3 months

Text

Of Nightmares and Memories /three/ Azriel x reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two

The night of Calanmai came. You were buzzing with energy. You dressed in old clothes, and wrapped yourself in Lucien’s cloak, trying to hide your scent as best as possible. To anyone else out there, it would look like you belonged to the fox. That you were his and no one else’s. Which would also keep you safe from anyone creeping a little too close.

“Stay with me, do you understand?” Lucien questioned.

“I know, I know.”

The beat of the drums outside grows louder and louder. You could feel them in your soul, begging you to run out and join the fun. You ached with anticipation. You were going to leave this dreaded house and finally see your brother again.

You just wanted to lay eyes on him and know that he was still in there somewhere, and wasn’t the monster everyone believed him to be. Certainly he was doing what he had to do to survive? Certainly your sweet caring brother was still in there, buried deep within?

“Come, we don’t have much time,” Lucien said, leading you out of your rooms.

You shiver against the cool night. Though you weren’t sure if it was the cold that was making you shiver, or the thought of seeing him again. You couldn’t tell him who you were, couldn’t allow him to realize you were still alive.

He would destroy the spring court and with it any hopes of beating Amerantha at her own game. If Feyre could just admit that she was in love with Tamlin, which somehow you had a feeling she was slowly falling for the Lord of Spring, everything would change. Maybe you could go home again.

You longed for home. Longed for Valaris, and the group of fae that you called family. You longed for Cassian and Mor constantly fighting and joking. You longed for Amren and her grumpy nature. And Azriel…your Az. The person who seemed to understand you more than anyone else in the world. You longed for him most of all. He was so quiet and understanding, and so beautiful in every possible way. You wished you would have told him. But you were still just a child.

You were still so young when Tamlin and his family took you. Barely even eighteen, but you aged slower somehow, so while you were of age, you barely looked sixteen. So small and young. So much of your life stripped away from you.

You feel Rhys before you spot him. You feel the night rippling off of him, calling your own powers out to play. The headache slowly sets in at the base of your skull as you try to reign in your own shadows and darkness.

He’s talking to Feyre, and for a moment you smile, because you could see them together in another life. Perhaps if she’d been born a Fae. Perhaps if Rhys needed to be the one to break Amerantha’s curse, and not Tamlin. Because you hated the idea of Tamlin getting to be happy with Feyre once this was all said and done. You hated the fact that she would live out her few good years with that beast.

“What do we have here?” His silky voice questioned, violet eyes looking you over, “Already have a play thing, Lucien?”

“Not quite,” I spoke up, daring him to recognize me from beneath the glamor.

you could feel his mental claws scratching against my shields, looking for a way in. He would not find one, of course. Having been trained to block him out since you were old enough to understand the concept.

His eyes narrowed at you, taking a step closer towards you. Meanwhile, Lucien hissed at you to stay put while he dragged Feyre back to the manor house, leaving you alone with Rhys. You ached to tell him, but you couldn’t. If you told him you’d be dead before the next moon rise.

“Who are you?”

You bite back the bile that rises in your throat, “Lucien’s…friend.”

“No, you aren’t.”

You only smirk and try to force your way into his head again, sweat starting to bead on your forehead.

“If you were his friend, you wouldn’t be full of faebane.”

“Maybe I choose this.”

“No, I don’t think you do,” he tisks, “Poor little lamb, stuck in spring.”

“I’m far from a little lamb,” You hiss back, hating that you sound and feel weak.

You are weak, in every way that matters now, you’re weak. And Rhys can’t do anything to help you. He can’t take you away from here, he can’t save you. Because he can’t even save himself. He’s stuck under Amerantha’s thumb, and there’s nothing that can be done about it. Your only hope is that poor human girl to actually fall in love with Tamlin. What a fate that would be.

Lucien returns, dropping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. You had to do something, anything to try to let him know you were alive. That you were here. You were right there, just silently begging for him to notice you. So you did the only thing you could think of and flung out what little power you had left. You scratched down his mental shields, already feeling sweat beading on your forehead.

At this point he’d turned his back, ready to move away from the boring conversation. But your little outburst caused him to spin back around and stalk towards you. You thought he might go for your throat, might kill you right there for daring to do anything to him but he didn’t.

“I could kill you right where you stand,” He hisses at you, “Without breaking a sweat.”

“Ah, but you’d have to catch me first,” you struggle to say from the strain of the faebane, “I hear I’m like the wind.”

His eyes widen, hands reaching for you, before Lucien took hold of you and dragged you away. You were back in the manor house before you could even think. Lucien started to yell at you, drowning out the sound of the drums outside, which were growing louder and louder. The rite would start soon, Lucien would be needed.

“What did you say to him?” He demands.

“Nothing, you heard me.”

“No, that meant something!”

“Just something I used to say as a child,” You shake your head, “I’m going to bed. Have fun.”

You wave him off as you go. You felt heavy and tired. But somehow so invigorated. Your brother was still your brother, you knew that. Deep down he was still Rhys, and not the monster everyone believed him to be. Deep down, he was still there, just waiting to come back out like everyone else.

That night you dreamt of your wings. Flying over Valaris with Rhys and your mother. Laughing with Cas and Az at the House of Wind. You dreamt about everything, and at the same time nothing.

“I’m going to get you, little star!” Rhys laughed from behind you as you ran away from him.

“You’ll have to catch me first!” You yell, jumping off of the ledge, “I’m like the wind!”

The air catches your wings and pulls you along. You smile and giggle as you pivot to avoid Rhys again. The wind whips through your hair as you fly, you don’t bother trying to stop it. It only makes you laugh harder. You feel so free as you fly higher and higher over the city. You wonder for a second if they can hear you laughing down in the Rainbow.

You’d have to stop back down there today, you wanted to listen to the music some more. Maybe purchase a painting or two for your rooms. Maybe you could convince Cas or Az to come with you.

Arms reach around you, causing you to shriek. Rhys’ laugh filled your ears and you relaxed into his arms. It was rare to have moments like this now. Your father kept him so busy, much to yours and your mother’s dismay.

He pulls you in close and laughs as you nudge him with your elbow, “I love you, little star,” He whispers to you above the wind.

“I love you too, Rhys.”

When you wake the following morning, you have tears in your eyes. Your pillow is wet with them. You do not get out of bed that day.

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b0xerdancer-writes · 5 months

Text

It Wasn't Supposed To Happen Like This Part 1

Eris x Rhy's Sister! Reader

Summary: Eris used to be attached at the hip to Rhysand’s younger sister. Now that he has taken over as High Lord of the Autumn Court, his father’s old high table have been pressuring him to take a wife, he comes up with the brilliant lie that hes already courting someone and has been for several years now. Eris asks Rhysand’s little sister, the best way to get away with it and make it believable, to fake court her.

Warnings: Elain and Mor slander (I love Mor but it’s a plot point for later on I promise!), cussing 18+, some nsfw lean but no sex scenes yet.

Trope/Prompt: Fake Dating

Word Count: 7,037

Notes: It's done! Part One is finally done! After being sick and busy with work and other personal life stuff it’s finally done!

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“So, I bet you are wondering why I’ve called a meeting with all of you today.”

The entire inner circle was stuffed into the living room of The House of the Wind as Rhysand spoke up addressing us all. I watched as Azriel and Cassian shared a confused look with each other, while Feyre joined my brother at his side rubbing soothingly. The only member of the inner circle that wasn’t here was Elain. Thankfully, I could go one more meeting without her clinging obsessively to Azriel’s arm and scoffing anytime I tried to talk to the male that was my brother as far as I was concerned.

Pulling myself from my thoughts I turned my attention back to my brother and his mate, as Rhysand cleared his throat. “I know this is sudden, I’ll admit this has even caught me by surprise, but there have been some recent advancements in our alliance with Eris.”

Rhys shifted on his feet like he was uneasy, Feyre took in a breath and began speaking for my brother. “Beron succumbed to his wounds from the war, making Eris the new high lord now. There is to be a meeting with him tonight to discuss a new alliance or to modify the currently existing one.”

I was happy Rhys found her; she was wonderful for him. He was so broken after the Amarantha thing but when he brought her here for the first time the way he seemed to light up gave me hope he would make it through.

Rhys gave her a loving look of thanks before he continued to speak. “Since Eris is now a high lord, we need to have more of a presence there tonight. As for you dear sister, I've had you removed from Court duties long enough people are beginning to question it, now that the war is over, I’m comfortable putting you back into that world.”

Rhys was right. I helped Mor and the boys run everything while he was under the mountain which included attending any meetings under the mountain, but the day he returned he pulled me from active duties, said he didn’t like the mask I had crafted to survive down there. I couldn't blame him for saying that honestly, I had crafted the mask based around the experiences with my father. The Pristine, cold, and calculated princess is what he had crafted me to be; I still used the lessons he taught me day to day. There was part of me that enjoyed the game that came with the mask, playing the part that was asked of me, it was sure to come into play on the board tonight.

There was a small conversation amongst the room before Rhysand dismissed everyone to get ready. As I stood from the comfy black couch and made my way to move past Rhys, he softly placed his hand on my upper arm. He gave me a look that I easily recognized as a mix of worry and nerves, and I felt the soft knock of his talons on my mental shield. I smiled and lowered them as he asked if I was going to be okay going back into the Court of Nightmares. I nodded and assured him I would be okay before moving to take his hand that was on my arm into my hand and squeezing it softly, I quickly slipped up the stairs into my room.

Opening the door to my closet I skimmed through the many dresses that hung there, searching for one that would be fitting. I thought about Eris then, I hadn't seen him except for when we were incredibly young, maybe a few weeks prior to his engagement to Mor. I had gone on a trip with my father to meet with Beron and discuss the engagement, me and Eris had sat in the gardens discussing the different flowers and creatures, from what I remembered he was a good male that kept his guard and mask up much like that of my brother. Something always sat wrong with me about the story Mor told, and even other ones that had been told to me by various members of the inner circle, maybe it was growing up around my brother as he crafted his mask that let me see through such things but with every story, I was told I could always find Eris’s mask. I wondered about how he had grown since that exchange as children.

My mind wandered through a forest of thoughts as I sorted through the many dresses, till one caught my attention. A black thinly strapped V neck dress. The dress was floor-length with a slit on the left side that reached mid-thigh and made of Satin, it had gorgeous dark red almost blood colored lace appliques on it that depicted vines and roses. I plucked the dress from the closet and brought it with me to look in the mirror at it, after deeming it a good fit for the night I draped it across the arm of the chaise lounge and fetched a simple pair of black pumps.

I moved to the bathing room quickly; drawing a bath, I poured a jar of a sweet-smelling oil into the water and hummed a long to a nonexistent song in my head. I stepped into the lightly steaming water and sunk to my chin in the water with a low relaxed sigh. Time went by quickly; I only rose from the bath when the house summoned a towel on the small accent table that held my many oils and bath potions. The towel was warm as I wrapped it around my body and stepped out of the water, the air caused a chill to run up my spine as I stepped into my bed chambers where the curtains fluttered softly in the wind.

I moved to my chest of drawers and pulled out some simple undergarments that would match the dress, slipping them on, I dropped the towel and moved back over to pick up the black dress. I stepped into the straps and turned to look in the mirror so I could do up the fastenings; smiling I turned back around and straightened out the dress on my body. I picked up the black pumps and moved over to my lounge to sit, fastening the small buckle around each of my ankles after slipping them on.

I moved to my vanity, settling on simple hair, makeup, and accent jewelry before I heard the commotion of everyone beginning to gather in the living room. I gave myself one more look in the mirror before slipping out of my bedroom door and down the hallway to join my brothers and their mates. Only a few people had not joined us in the living room when I had taken my seat on the comfortable couch, namely Mor and Azriel, but the male of the two could be heard making his way to us.

After a few minutes the entire inner circle had finally gathered in the living room. Rhys stood tapping his foot impatiently as he cleared his throat. “Alright then, now that everyone is here please remember to try your best to make tonight go as smoothly as possible, this will be like normal except my dear sister will be announced between the rest of you and Feyre and I. There are a few more things I wish to discuss before we leave.”

After Rhys finished his long lecture about behavior and details for the meeting later everyone had stretched and gathered into their winnowing groups, everyone nodding to each other as we all folded the world around us and reappeared in the hall of the Court of Nightmares. I could hear a male inside clear his throat as he began introductions. Starting with Azriel, then Cassian and Nesta, Mor and Amren, then it was silent for a few moments as a low orchestral noise filled the room before me leaking out from under the large stone door.

“Returning from her leave of absence, the sister of our high lord and princess of our court…” The rest of the announcer's words blended into the background as my mask washed over me and the large intricately carved stone doors swung open.

I scanned the heavily decorated ballroom, shooting glares at Kier and any other distasteful males I spotted on my way to the dais. As the crowd cleared the base of the dais one male stood out to me with his hair as bright as his personality I remembered, Eris, He locked eyes with me as he stepped back into the crowd and tilted his wine glass to me with a discreet smile. I nodded back to him as I climbed the short steps up to the thrones, moving to stand to the left of them.

Once my brother and his mate had their own introductions and had taken their seats, Rhys announced the celebration would continue while some of us stepped away to discuss politics. We all split up to do our jobs, I would not be part of negotiations despite having practically run this half of the court for Mor when Rhys was gone. I made my way to mingle on the dancefloor as I caught the slightest hint of Eris’s flaming hair disappearing around a corner towards the meeting room. I huffed scanning the party around me, spotting a servant carrying a tray of wine goblets, taking one from him. I made my way to stand near a finely carved pillar, several males of high standing stopped their conversation and looked over their shoulders at me before murmuring to themselves and finally approaching me.

There are only a few things males like them could want, and none of them were good. Within their first few sentences I lost any and all care for their poor conversational skills. Taking a sip from my wine glass I dismissed them with a wave of my hand and a quick, “Leave me, I have no interest in your schemes for power.”

The males retreated with a dejected look across all of their faces, to be fair I pitied them had they approached me in Velaris without my mask I would’ve listened to their words. As I watched the crowd around me, I was startled by a voice from over my shoulder.

“Ouch, the high princess of the night court, rejecting males before they even finish getting their names out.” The voice laughed after it finished speaking and I rounded on it holding a hand to my chest.

“Lucien fucking Vanserra, you ass you startled me!” I quietly yelled at him, the tone in my voice made him laugh again. I didn’t think he was going to make it tonight.

Lucien had been a close friend since he joined Feyre here, we were both the odd ones out of the inner circle. Lucien at least now had his brother, had the day court, or had the band of outcasts to turn to when it all got so much. All I had was the small hideaway my father had shown me when I was little.

“Surprised to see me, my lady?” He jokingly bowed and extended a hand out to me, pulling my knuckles to his lips after I placed my hand on his own.

“I didn't think you were going to be able to make it tonight, last I heard you were on some secret mission.” I giggled, tipping my cup to clink against his own.

“Just got back a few hours ago, just enough time to change.” He took a sip from the goblet and smiled at me.

“It’s always wonderful to have you around to talk to during events, but shouldn't you get some sort of rest?” I raised an eyebrow at him, and he laughed.

“You chastise me the same way both Eris and my mother do. Like the sister I never had.” He placed his free hand on my shoulder squeezing softly.

Before I could retort back at the younger male, he was taking my now empty cup from my hands as well as his own and placing it on an empty tray a servant had as they walked by. He turned his attention back to me.

“Care to dance? We can at least make this night a little less boring.” He smiled down at me and extended his hand, as soon as my hand touched his he smiled at me and pulled me towards the dance floor.

The rest of the night passed quickly with Lucien as my company, I only realized negotiations had finished when I saw a hand tap Lucien's shoulder.

“Pardon me brother, but it looks like you're having quite a bit of fun, mind if I interrupt for a few dances myself? Give me a bit to catch up with an old friend?” The taller Vanserra had butted in with a smile, negotiations must have gone his way then.

“Oh! Of course, have fun brother.” Lucien stepped back into the crowd with a quick nod passing my hands off to Eris’s. He waited a moment to process where in the song we were before pulling me into a waltz leading us towards the center of the dancefloor.

“How did negotiations go?” I asked him in a hushed tone, “My brother won’t let me in on any of it.”

“It went well,” He chuckled. “Nothing major just asked for continued support if anyone wished to try to usurp me.”

His Amber eyes looked from me to scan the dance hall. “I may have also asked for a favor that involves you.”

Oh, this had to be interesting. “What did Rhys have to say about this favor?” I quirked a brow at him a moment before he spun me and pulled me back against his chest.

“That I needed your say on it, it wasn't up to him.” He leaned down to whisper it in my ear before he spun me back to face him.

“What kind of favor is it then? Don’t leave me hanging, I can’t make my decision without knowing first.” I giggled as we fell back into the simple rhythm of the waltz.

“My advisors and nobles of my court have been pressuring me into beginning to court a female, I may have told them I had my eye on someone already, though that is a lie for me to hide it from them for so long it had to be someone of importance. Someone I’ve known for a very long time. No one better than you to fill in that role.” He sucked in a breath before clearing his throat softly. “We don’t actually have to court, you were just the first female that came to mind when the lie popped in my head we fake it for a bit attend a few dances with the other i gift you some of my belongings and some jewelry to make it look like we have been courting for a few years now, we get into an argument at a dance and break up. Saves me a bit of time to figure everything out and holds them at bay. What do you say?”

I smirked up at him. “Oh, you know I’m always down for a bit of fun like that.” He spun me once more before dipping me. A smirk on his own face.

“Honestly I was counting on you still having that rebellious personality, glad that it hasn't been diluted or taken away over the years.” He smiled, pulling me up from the dip to pull me close to him.

“Well, I’m happy to say that my personality hasn’t changed much in that way, though I fear my brothers may be beginning to regret not stamping it out of me.” I nodded my head towards my brother who now was sitting back on the dais watching me and Eris with a scrutinizing glare.

He chuckled to himself as he lowered his head to rest his chin on my shoulder meeting Rhys’s gaze. “If you are really keen on accepting then we need to go shopping so I can buy you a few things that would seem like courting gifts to the members of my court. After that I’ll arrange for you to come visit Autumn as my guest for a few days before the fall equinox celebration.”

“Sounds like a plan my lord~” I teased, leaning back into his grasp. If we were going to play house soon might as well make the role believable.

He chuckled to himself as the song came to an end and he led me away from the dancefloor, making a display of kissing my knuckles. I smirked to myself and grabbed a wine glass off of a passing tray, taking my place back against the pillar smugly. My eyes drifted across Eris’s frame as he moved back up to discuss whatever it was he needed to with Rhysand.

It didn't take long for the other Vanserra brother to slither back to my side. He took a long gulp from his goblet before he lowered it with a snide smirk. “Soooooo, care to tell me what all that was about? I thought it was just supposed to be some catching up, it didn't look like that to me.”

I shoved his shoulder before taking a sip of my own drink and rolled my eyes. He made a gesture for me to start talking and I made a fake annoyed noise which he snickered at.

“If you must know, you snoopy male, your brother approached me with a proposition.” I took a sip from my goblet which gave him enough time to choke on his own as he started coughing his eyes wide. “Not that kind of proposition Luc, though I suppose in the eyes of the courts it's not far off from that.”

His eyes stayed wide as he nodded eagerly waiting for me to continue. “He asked me to fake court him, so the old males that Beron hired as his confidants would get off his back long enough for him to make some real change in the court.”

Lucien nodded, taking a gulp of his goblet, his eyes darting where Eris stood talking with my brother and then flicked back to me. “I knew you two had history, but it must be more than I originally thought it was if he trusts you this much.”

I smiled softly to myself, nursing another sip. “I'm very thankful he still trusts me the same way he did when we were children.”

Lucien’s eye searched in mine for a moment as he relaxed against the stone pillar behind us. “From what I heard, when you and Eris were younger you two were attached at the hip. What happened there?”

It was going to be a long night. “His engagement to Mor is what happened.” I'll admit that my voice came out more bitter than what would’ve pleased my family.

Lucien raised his brow at me. “Oh? Can I ask about that? If you two were attached at the hip, why weren’t you two engaged instead?”

My brows furrowed as I spotted Mor in the crowd laughing with Nesta. “I wasn’t ever made aware of the real reasons behind it. I know my name was brought up but my father shot it down. It should’ve been me though, why else would our fathers have been so keen to have us introduced to the other and why else would they have been okay with us sneaking off into the woods of the forest house grounds?”

Lucien nodded but didn’t say a word as he took another small sip. “It almost angers me what she did,” I nodded at Mors location, “Cassian doesn't know about any of what happened, none of the inner circle really does. Except for me, because Eris told me everything, one of our final meetings before everything went to shit, he broke down in my arms, told me everything, how terrible he felt that he couldn’t help. I mean it Luc, he told me every little thing that happened. All of them thought I was just being rude or biased with every glare I gave Mor back then.”

I took a sip letting out a sigh. “I was just so angry back then at her, for multiple reasons. For taking my chance out of this court, for taking the hand of the first male I ever really cared for besides my family, for hurting Eris the way she did, for lying about the real story behind it.”

Lucien rested a hand on my shoulder aware I needed to voice my frustrations. “Sorry for bringing it up, if it was such a tender subject I wouldn’t have.”

I shook my head. “No Lucien, don’t apologize. You asked a perfectly fine question, I'm just thankful even after everything that happened he still trusts me to do something this important to him.”

Lucien’s hand on my shoulder rubbed softly trying to offer some variety of comfort. It hadn’t been the whole truth but no one besides me needed to know that. The only other people who knew the truth were dead as far as I was aware: My father and Beron. There had been a long discussion between me and my father the night Eris was engaged to Mor, it was the first time my father had ever apologized to me, it brought us closer together even though it should have driven us apart.

Rhysand was at Windhaven that night, I held it together till I crossed the threshold of the House of Wind. Rhysand would always say our father was a rough, cruel male, but Rhys had never seen the way he would comfort me or care for me. Maybe it was just the fact I was his first daughter and had always favored him since birth but even mother never dared separate us, understood I was a daddy’s girl from the first time he held me in his arms after my birth.

Lucien cleared his throat as he drew my attention back towards the crowd, where Eris had a smug smile on his face and was working his way back towards us grabbing a goblet of his own. I steeled myself with a deep breath. There was one truth I held closer to my heart than any other. I had loved Eris from a young age; if he needed me to do this, as much as it would hurt after all was said and done, then I would do it. The taunting tug in my chest left a bitter taste in my mouth as I pushed it down and forced a smile across my face as Eris slid into place in front of me and Lucien, smirk still plastered across his handsome face.

Eris engaged Lucien in brotherly small talk with a wide grin on his face and I smiled taking a final sip from my goblet. His smile reminded me of the same one that crossed his face all those years ago when we were younger. I don’t know what came over me but I cleared my throat interrupting the two red headed males who both looked at me curiously.

“Do you two want to come to Rita’s tonight? I needed to go shopping with Eris anyways but it would be way more fun if you joined as well Lucien.” The two males nodded murmuring their agreement to the party.

Eris was quick to turn his attention to me, which caught Lucien’s attention with a smirk. He made an underhanded comment to his eldest brother and the two made small bicker back and forth. I smiled softly, happy to see both of the males relatively comfortable despite the cold atmosphere that was the Court of Nightmares.

The rest of the night continued on easily, though when everyone gathered to be winnowed back to Velaris the two red heads either side of me stood out amongst the inner circle. I noticed Azriel’s glare at the elder brother, both still deep into conversation to notice the quiet male’s cold stare. I challenged Azriel’s gaze who shifted on his feet and turned his attention back to Rhys. I would be winnowing the two redheads with me back to the shopping districts of Velaris where Lucien would slip off to his own apartment till it was time for Rita’s.

The second we were dismissed by Rhys I pulled the two redheads close, bending the shadows around us. Eris took a step closer to me, close enough I could feel his chest bump into my arm with every breath he took. As the world folded back into place the sun was just beginning to set below the horizon, Lucien waved and dismissed himself and Eris took a step back from me, his face slightly flushed as he looked around the part of the city I landed us in.

I took a deep breath in letting my mask slip finally and pulled Eris in for a deep hug. He returned the hug and I looked up at him with a soft smile on my face, “Good to have you back.” In my life, in my arms, there were so many ways to finish that thought that crossed my mind but I knew I would never get to voice them the way I wanted.

“Good to be back at your hip.” Eris smiled though it didn’t quite reach his eyes like he wanted to say more or that there was some hidden meaning in his words. He pulled me back into a hug pressing my head into his shoulder. “Where do we start looking for stuff?”

“The Palace of Thread and Jewels would be our best bet for things that would look like courting gifts.” I cleared my throat, rocking on my heels and nodding in the direction of the said location. I took a breath in trying to fight the thoughts in my brain and the tug in my chest. He smelled amazing like cinnamon and firewood, it was intoxicating but I couldn’t lose myself here.

He entwined his hand with mine and began walking in the direction I had pointed him. “I will have to get you a fox kit or a shadow hound pup though I can keep it in my kennels. I'll just have to say it's for you. It's an autumn court tradition though we can worry about that later, it shows the relationship is getting serious which it would be if we had been secretly courting each other since before the second war.”

My heart fluttered thinking back to when we were kids and he promised to gift me one of his hound pups one day. We were maybe 10 at the time and he was showing me around the kennels, he was so proud to finally have his own hound even if it was barely 6 weeks old. He boldly proclaimed he was going to marry me and that he would give me a hound as part of his gifts, little chest puffed out with a smug look on his face. I smiled and giggled under my breath, he shot me a faux offended look to which I elbowed him in the ribs.

“Ow! What was that for?” He rubbed his side and gave me a look that screamed kicked puppy.

“No need to be so offended. I was merely thinking back to that time in the kennels when we were children.” I snickered, pulling him towards the doors of the palace that were nearing.

“Oh mother, save me, you actually remember that?” His face was flushed in embarrassment but it was thrown out the window as he moved to hold the door for me.

“Thank you, and I remember quite a lot of those days in the woods.” I snickered, pulling him into the palace with me.

He laughed with me and his chest collided with my back, hands coming to rest on my hips to steady both of us. I had abruptly stopped as my eyes caught a dress on display on a mannequin in one of the several shop’s windows. I felt my heart flutter and skip a beat at how close his body was, a low taunting voice echoed softly in the back of my head. The voice taunted me how this whole arrangement would never be real and I'd just end up hurting myself, I smothered the voice down into the depths but could still feel the ache of the words.

“What did you stop for?” Eris looked down at me from over my shoulder quizzically with a brow quirked up. His eyes danced from me and followed to where I was looking at the dress.

He smiled brightly, taking my hand and pulling me into the shop and up to a worker. I tuned out the world till his voice called for me. “You like the one in the window right? Love?” his fingers entwined with mine as I nodded.

“Yes” I nodded quickly and watched as the worker stiffened up and went to grab her boss, the maker of the dress. She led us to a private dressing room, handing me a soft robe and pushed me through the curtained off section to change into it. I watched from the corner of my eye as Eris whistled before taking a seat on the low backed padded couch and reclined, looking around the small shop.

A few minutes passed and I heard hushed whispering before someone greeted Eris, he made a small acknowledgement back before there was a knock on my small dressing room. The small fae from the counter poked her head in with a smile and asked if she could step in. With a nod she slid through the curtain the dress from earlier over her shoulder. We must have looked like a sight I realized, still dressed in our fancy outfits from earlier, now shopping for more equally if not fancier outfits.

I smoothed the robe down as nerves prickled at my neck, watching the young fae female hand the dress up on a small hook before she offered to help me change into it. I thanked her and agreed for her help, she began informing me about the dress. She was the apprentice of the older lady that owned the shop, this dress was her first one to go out to the sales floor, that she was honored for the princess of her very own court to be trying it on. With her assistance I shed the robe and stepped into the dress, she pulled it up my body adjusting the fabric minorly and began clasping the dress closed.

She motioned me towards the small mirror in the dressing room, and I could practically see her dripping nerves waiting for my say on the dress. I took in my reflection the dress was primarily black, a-line skirt with a strapless sweetheart neckline, made of tulle and silk; the underskirt was shades of burnt red orange and yellow making it look like it was on fire. I adored it, it was gorgeous. I was walking out with this dress whether Eris agreed or not. I saw her smile in the back as I took it in, she must have been able to read my face; she asked if I wanted to show “the nice male I came in with” the dress, to which I agreed and she held the dressing room curtain out of the way for me to step through the archway.

As I stepped through the curtain my eyes caught on Eris, he was slightly reclined on the small padded couch; one leg crossed at the ankle over the knee of his other leg, one arm over the back of the couch fidgeting with the wooden filigree, and the other was resting in his lap. The way the lighting of the shop hit him painted him like a burning sunrise, my breath caught in my throat as the click of my heels caught his attention. His amber eyes raked over my figure and I watched as his bored expression lit up and he smiled at me, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

I felt my face heat up slightly and tried to will it down as the small female helped me up onto a platform with 3 mirrors surrounding it. Eris uncrossed his legs and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and hands clasped together, watching me closely.

“Give me a spin.” I didn’t even have to see his reflection in the mirror to see his smirk.

I rolled my eyes and turned in the dress till I was facing him and countered his mischievous gaze with “Not that it matters because I’m walking out of here with this dress in a bag either way but what do you think, oh Grand High Lord of Autumn.”

And then he laughed, genuine and with his entire body, his shoulders shook and he had to cover his mouth with his hand to try and stifle his laughter. His eyes watered as he grinned at me, and it aches in my heart for a moment as I tried to think back to the last time I had seen him laugh like this, or even this happy.

“Sorry-I-sorry,” He had to stop himself to burst into laughter again, “Sorry just how you said that, I was going to suggest we get the dress anyways and you can wear it to the Autumn Equinox Festival in a few weeks. You haven’t given me such sass since we were ten.”

“You bring out the sass in me Eris, what can I say except it is entirely your fault.” I laughed with him, a smile on my own face. When Eris was genuinely happy his energy was infectious.

He smirked back at me laughing softly, eyes sparkling with some mix of mischief and glee. He stood and made his way over to the platform, his hands wound in my skirt as he shifted it to and fro with watchful eyes. As the skirt shifted it looked like flames licking at the edge of the black fabric. He smiled and looked over his shoulder at the apprentice who tensed up as if she was about to get criticized.

“Would you be able to make a matching suit for this dress, I wish to have a matching suit to wear with her for the Autumnal equinox festivities in my home court.” The small fae nodded and went to make some comment but Eris cut her off before she could speak.

“I understand you are an apprentice but your craftsmanship on this dress is extraordinary, I’ve never seen someone accomplish such a gorgeous flame effect on a dress before. Have you ever attempted a suit design before?” He moved from me to rest a hand on her shoulder, and her face began to grow a blush on it.

“Yes, but I haven't ever attempted effects like this on suits. My teacher says there's less room for creativity in suits, she doesn't let me experiment much with them sir.” she swallowed and looked down like she was expecting a harsh reaction.

Eris simply smiled and rested both hands on her shoulders which caused her to look up, he was softening his exterior slowly but surely becoming the high lord he really wanted to see in the world, no doubt influenced by his mothers softness. “I'm sure she would understand if it was a commission, or maybe even if you did it as a private commission. I'm sure with your fantastic skills as shown in the dress, you will be able to accomplish a similar effect, yes?”

She nodded quickly and dismissed herself quickly, returning with a measuring tape, quill and pad of paper. She asked me to remain in the dress just off to the side of the platform, and then asked Eris to step into the center. Which he happily did and shed his overcoat tossing it to the padded couch, smoothing out his undershirt before the small fae was wrapping her tape around him and jotting down on the paper here or there. She stepped back quickly asking me and Eris to stand together, and she took a seat on the small couch as she began scratching her pencil and a few small colored ones I hadn’t even noticed, glancing up at me and Eris occasionally here or there. After a few moments she approached Eris with the pad of paper and he took a few steps away from me and held the pad out towards me with both hands.

This fucker. I assumed he was holding it up to envision him standing in the suit beside me, he wanted it to be without a doubt a matching piece that no one could debate about. I realized what he was doing in having us match without a shred of doubt that it was in fact planned. It was something you really only saw to this extreme in married couples at these kinds of events. If we showed up like that it would without a doubt quell anyone’s doubt we were a serious couple deep in the throws of courting.

Eris nodded and smiled, exchanging a few words with the female that I missed due to the sudden blood rushing into my ears that drowned out all other noise. It wasn’t until Eris motioned me back into the dressing room, stepping from the platform to hold the curtain open for me as the small fae scrambled towards the front to grab a garment bag and receipt for Eris. Had he already paid her? I must have missed the exchange of money at some point.

“Come now my dear, we have much to do, I would like to purchase some accent jewelry for us to wear with that outfit. Maybe you'd like a fur wrap for your shoulders in that dress? The air will be chilly once the sun begins to set that night.” He made a show of holding his hand out for me to take.

I rolled my eyes as I stepped down and took his hand as I stepped into the dressing room. I just barely caught a glimmer in his eyes and the smirk across his face in the smaller mirror as he dropped the drapery and pressed himself against my back, one hand still in mine, pressed close to my collar bone and the other of his resting on my hip. I froze as he dropped his head to the side of my neck and made eye contact with me in the mirror.

“Need some help taking it off? Shame I thought it clung to you perfectly.” He kept eye contact as he pressed a kiss to my shoulder and I could barely hear it over the heartbeat in my ears but I still heard it, a small giggle and murmurs of awe and murmurs about ‘how romantic’ from the girl and I can only assume her mentor, or other shoppers I didn’t notice in my awe.

His hands slid from mine and found the clasp on the back of my dress, his eyes dropped from mine as he took a step back and began unclasping each small fastening. I pressed a hand to my chest as the dress began loosening, holding it to me to prevent it from dropping as he finished the clasps. His eyes met mine in the mirror and I would have sworn they were a few shades darker than normal; as he winked and pushed his way through the curtain holding it open just a hair, enough for only him to slip through and he looked back over his shoulder at me.

“Hurry up and change love, there's a few more stores I would like to visit before Rita’s tonight. Don’t worry about the dress, I'll take care of it and have them put it in the bag for you.” he dropped the curtain.

I let out a shaky breath as it fell back into place. I could hear him talking with the small apprentice and her teacher on the other side, but I was distracted by the heat that flooded my face. I let the dress drop to the floor before stepping from it and taking my other one from earlier and fastening it back around me; just as I finished the apprentice knocked softly before sliding in to pick the dress up, moving to place it in the nice soft garment bag she brought with her.

“Pardon me if I’m speaking out of turn when I say this my lady, but you are a very lucky female to have a male like him spring on you like that.” She moved her eyes quickly up at me and then back down to the dress as she fastened the bag closed.

“Yeah…” I nodded softly, “Yeah I am very lucky.”

She smiled softly at me as she stood up with the bag held neatly in her arms. “Hard to find males like him nowadays, best keep him close.”

“I plan on trying.” I smiled at her as she stepped through the curtain again and I took a second to collect myself before I had to face Eris.

“Fuck this is going to be a lot harder than I thought it would be.” I murmured under my shallow breath as that familiar ache and tug settled in my chest again. I'd known this ache since childhood and now it was going to rear its ugly head at every turn. I both dreaded the oncoming storm and wished for it to bring the one thing I had hoped for since I was eight. Since the day at the lake when that golden string had snapped into place for me, but Eris hadn’t batted an eye or acted any different, he had never felt the snap or tug. I could only hope this staged courtship would change that for him, that he would finally feel the bond snap into place.

#acotar #acotar x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #eris vanserra #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #inner circle #a court of thorns and roses

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daydreaming-nerd · 29 days

Text

Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 5

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

AN: This definitely should've been two parts...

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: Sexisim, trauma from under the mountain, alcohol, SA, blood, Rhys is sweet but oblivious, autumn court men are pigs, SMUT (mwhahaha),

Word Count: 9,218 (I don't wanna talk about it)

For about the hundredth time that evening I had given myself the once over. The afternoon had been spent with handmaidens all over me, styling my hair, lining my eyes in kohl, polishing my nails in Autumn Court red, shining the diamond necklace given to me by Eris, and making sure I lived up to my name.

I was surprised by how simple the dress was that was chosen for me. The handmaidens said they wanted to let my natural beauty show, as well as my new collar, I mean necklace. I ran my hands over the large, freshly polished gems. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get used to the weight of it.

I made my way to the foyer where I knew my brother and his Inner Circle would be waiting. Anxiety filled my chest. Tonight I would be dancing and mingling with hundreds of people, but I only cared about one. The man Azriel was currently nudging with his elbow to get him to turn around.

Cassian was lethal in fighting leathers and he was deadly in his most casual clothes, but the jacket and pants he wore tonight? It was a miracle I was still standing upright.

His eyes shot to me and his mouth parted slightly, sucking in a breath. Those eyes, those hazel eyes, how they burned a hole right through my soul. Right through the gown and the jewels and straight into the heart of me. Cassian looked at me the way every female dreamed of being looked at.

“You look amazing sister,” Rhysand said, pulling my attention from Cassian.

I turned to where my brother stood with Mor, who was clad in her usual jaw dropping red. I hadn’t seen my brother in so long. With the war getting closer and things with Eris getting more intense I hadn’t seen him since that initial day at the Autumn Court four weeks ago. While I missed his face, it reminded me of the sacrifices he made for me, and reminded me why marrying Eris was so important.

“You clean up pretty good too, Rhys,” I smiled, pulling him into a tight hug.

“I have something for you,” Rhys grinned, waving a hand in the air to pull a dazzling tiara seemingly from mid air. “I went into the vaults and grabbed this. It was mother’s, and I thought you might like to wear it.”

The tiara was beautiful and the moment it appeared in his hand I recognized it. It was one of our mothers favorites, made to look like a crown of shooting stars flying across her head like a halo. I had forgotten how magnificently she used to dress everyday.

“Oh Rhys,” I cried, throwing my arms around him while tears welled up in my eyes.

“I know, I miss her too,” he murmured into my shoulder.

“Help me put it on?” I ask him, pulling away and wiping my tears.

“Of course,” he smiled with his own eyes glassed over. He bent down slightly to place the tiara on my head before standing back to admire it. “She would’ve been so proud of you.”

“I think she would’ve been proud of both of us,” I beam at him, rubbing circles over the tops of his hands. “Now enough with the nostalgia, I’m going to cry off all my makeup. Let’s go party.” I laugh off my tears.

“Yeah c’mon Rhys you’re going to make us all sad drunks,” Mor said, clasping her hand in Cassian’s and winnowing them out.

Rhys held my fingers tight as he winnowed us along with her and Azriel was moments behind us. The second that the smell of damp leaves and woodsmoke filled my senses I felt a shudder run down my spine. I told myself that tonight with Eris would be different, but if the last time he had too much wine was any indication of how this evening would go…

The ballroom was filled with members of every court as my brother led me into the large space, Cassian’s looming presence flanking my right side. It was impressive to see all the different types, colors and textures of clothing. It would make a lovely and chaotic painting if anyone ever had the will to commission it. Of course, Night Court black stood out like a sore thumb, but I certainly didn’t mind. It’s not like my brother and I weren’t the center of attention everywhere we went anyways. I looked to Rhys to find his eyes rapidly scanning the sea of people and I couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.

“She isn’t here brother,” I said quietly into his ear.

“Who isn’t here?” he asked, trying to play the fool.

“The cursebreaker you’ve been searching the crowd for,” I laugh. “I asked Eris if she would be in attendance and he said that Tamlin and her had not replied to his invitation.”

“You asked Eris for me?” Rhys said, finally turning his head to me in surprise.

“Well I didn’t tell him why I wanted to know whether or not they were attending. I just asked casually. I secretly hoped you’d get to see her,” I smiled.

“You’re a wonderful little sister, you know that?” Rhys smiled, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

“Yeah yeah you big softie,” I laughed, nudging his shoulder. From the corner of my eye I could see Eris making his way through the crowd with two glasses of wine in hand.

“Rhysand, princess, we’re overjoyed that you could make it.” Eris smiled that conniving smile. “For you my little flame,” he said, handing me a goblet of wine and pressing a quick kiss to my lips.

“We’re happy to have been invited,” Rhysand smiles and I swear I hear two females faint somewhere in the room.

“Walk with me darling?” Eris says, extending an arm to me. I take it but not before glancing to my right once to see the worry in Cassian’s eyes.

As we pace around the border of the room I see why Eris chose to promenade first and dance later. It felt like every single eye in the room followed the same pattern. First they widened at the sight of me, then they flicked over to Eris, down to our linked arms and finally back to me once again. Their stares were stifling, I hadn’t been around this many people since under the mountain.

Eris didn’t want to promenade first to finish our drinks, oh no. He wanted everyone in this godsforsaken room to see that the Jewel belonged to him. The smirk on his face was a dead give away.

“You look ravishing tonight little flame,” Eris whispered into my ear, his breath hot in my neck. “That's why they’re all staring.”

“Don’t worry I’m used to the staring,” I replied truthfully trying to avoid all the eyes on me.

“I’m sure you are,” he chuckled. “Stay used to it pet, I have every intention of parading you around all night. Let them stare all they want. It’s only a problem if they touch.”

His words sent ice through my veins. It didn’t matter how many cruel or shocking things Eris said to me. Each and every time they cut like knives, taking a little piece of me with them that I would never get back.

“Is that the Jewel?” crooned a too familiar voice. I turned my head to find Helion standing in all his glory, a friendly smile plastered on his face.

“Helion!” I smiled, embracing him warmly. It had been too long since I felt the warmth of my friend's gaze.

“My dear you look exquisite as always,” he smiled, twirling me around so he could see all of me. “Your brother keeps you on too short a leash, I haven’t seen you since, well, since we were under the mountain.”

Eris’ body tightened next to me as he slid a hand possessively around the small of my waist, pulling me into his side, “Indeed, Helion, but rest assured, she's in good hands now. And her leash is exactly where it needs to be.” His words carried a veiled threat.

“That’s right,” Helion smiled, ever the charmer. “I heard that Rhysand had finally given her away. Congratulations to the both of you.”

“Oh we aren’t engaged yet, just courting.” I smile nervously, placing my hand on Eris' chest in an attempt to keep him from blowing his top off.

“Yes just courting, for now,” he smirked, nuzzling my neck.

My body might’ve been wrapped around Eris like a lovesick fool, but I let my eyes convey the truth to my friend. Helion looked at me with a sad remorse and I knew then and there that he had put the pieces together.

“I’ll leave you two love birds be,” he said trying to hide his disdain. “I think I hear Thessan calling me.”

We bid our goodbyes and I slammed what was left of my wine and placed it on the side table of the chaise next to us.

“I didn’t think I’d have to share tonight,” Eris rolled his eyes, continuing our walk around the perimeter.

“You can’t court the Jewel and get upset that everyone else wants to as well,” I scoff at his insolence.

“I am going to be High Lord, I can do whatever I want,” Eris seethes, stopping our stride and pulling my arm towards him so that I slam into his chest.

“Eris stop you’re making a scene,” I say tightly trying to pull my wrist from his grasp.

“Good, that's exactly what I want – to cause a scene. Let them look,” he growls, hurling his lips towards mine. His kiss is anything but polite and High Lord-ly and from the strong taste of wine and whiskey on his lips I underestimated how drunk he already was. Behind me I could faintly hear gasps of the people around us, no doubt bearing witness to the very public display of power he was putting on.

He pulls his lips from mine and stares at me with a predatory gaze and as both our chests heave, “Now that’s better,” he smirks.

I resist the urge to wipe my mouth off as I pluck another glass of wine from a silver tray and down it. Gods this night was just getting started and it already couldn’t get any worse.

“I want to dance,” I say abruptly to Eris. If we dance there’s a chance that someone might cut in and save me for at least a minute or two.

“Fine, let’s go.” Eris grumbles downing his wine as well.

He leads me out onto the dance floor and the crowd of dancers parts for us. For what specific reason? I can’t name why. Maybe it’s to get a good look at me, or maybe it’s because Eris is truly that terrifying. Either way I can’t help but feel like I’ve been placed in a glass box and suspended where the crystal chandelier is in the middle of the room.

Eris leads me into a dance and I don’t miss how tight his grip is on my waist, practically warning off anyone who might try and whisk me away from him. There goes that wonderful plan.

“You’re a wonderful dancer,” Eris complimented me and I noticed him trying to seem more sober.

“Thank you, my father taught me when I was a little girl,” I replied looking around the room.

From the second I had stepped onto the floor I could feel that searing gaze that took me apart bit by bit following me throughout my waltz. Finally I saw Cassian at the edge of the room with Azriel. Both of them leaning against the edge of the wall, wings tight on their bodies to keep people from brushing into them. Azriel whispered something into Cassian’s ear that had him downing his drink.

“I wish you could see the looks of envy around the room,” Eris said low into my ear, his voice carrying an undertone of possessiveness. “Envy of what I have. Envy of what they'll never possess. You've been this mythical thing for so long, and now you're utterly tangible, and more importantly, you're mine.”

“I’m not yours yet, Eris. You would do well to remember that.” I utter to him trying my best to keep my voice even.

Before he can even have a chance to lash out at me, a throat clears next to us halting our movements. I turn my gaze from Eris' fiery gaze and find Cassian standing before us and I curse my heart from nearly leaping out of my chest at the way he’s staring Eris down, like he heard every word he said.

“Princess, would you honor me with a dance?” Cassian said, his usual tone of confidence laced with uncertainty.

“I would love to Cassian,” I smile, feeling my cheeks blush.

“Over my dead body would she dance with the likes of you,” Eris simmers, pulling me closer to him. His grip on my arm was like a brand.

“No, you don’t get to speak for her,” Cassian growls, grasping the hand Eris has on me.

“Eris this isn’t very High Lord-ish behavior,” I grumbled under my breath feeling even more eyes find our little disagreement.

“He’s a bastard pet, he would soil you.” Eris replies, trying his best to show his restraint as he and Cassian engage in the biggest staredown this court has ever seen.

“Yes, a bastard with nothing to lose and a dance with the Jewel to gain. Remember what I said about that arm Prince Eris? It would be a pity if you couldn’t hunt next season,” Cassain said back, his words a not so veiled threat.

“One dance,” Eris chides. “Then I want her returned to me.” He dips a hand under my chin to place a kiss on my lips, no doubt trying to antagonize Cassian further.

If Cassian is provoked by the gesture he doesn’t show it. He simply sweeps me up into a dance the second the next song starts. His arms around me contrast the feeling of Eris so well. They’re warm and strong compared to Eris, who has a touch so cold it could freeze over hell. I take a deep breath to ground myself, Cassian’s scent of cedar and leather fills my senses and puts me at ease.

“I’m sorry if I caused you any trouble,” he said and I could tell he meant it. He probably assumed that Eris would behave more accordingly in such a public setting.

“No you actually saved me,” I laughed, falling easily into step with him.

“You look beautiful tonight, I don’t think I got a chance to tell you that earlier,” Cassian said tightly, like the words might hurt him. The tension in the air following what happened with Eris still thick.

“No I don’t think you did,” I replied and mentally cursed myself at how dumb it sounded. I get compliments all the time, and I always respond with grace and poise like I was taught. But something about Cassian takes away every piece of training away from me, for a moment I’m just a regular person.

“Then I’m a fool and I should’ve said it sooner,” he replied, spinning me out and pulling me back in. I was surprised by how well he moved on the dance floor.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” I smile and his eyes that were previously on his feet now meet mine.

“I can’t. I had Mor teach me this one so I could dance with you at least once tonight. That’s why I’ve been so short with you, I’m counting my steps,” Cassian laughs, blush tinting his cheeks. “Once this song is over Az is going to cut in so I don’t have to face the embarrassment of trying to dance to whatever they play next.”

It takes me a minute to process all that he’s said, and as I’m trying to read his face to see if he’s telling the truth or not I can see his lips twitching as he counts his steps in his head. A smile breaks across my lips and I can’t help but laugh.

“Oh Cassian,” I giggle, pressing my forehead into his shoulder. His arms immediately pull me close and I relish the feeling. “No one’s ever done anything like that for me before. Thank you.”

“Of course, anything for you princess,” he smiles and for a moment I’m transported back into that dark hallway. I suddenly become all too aware of our joined hands, his hand on my waist flexing like he’s scared to have it there.

“You’re actually a really wonderful dancer,” I laugh trying to keep myself from throwing myself at him.

Cassian’s mouth turns up to the side as his eyes burn into mine, “one, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.” he counts. I let out another laugh as we continue to spin around the room, he even throws in a lift every now and then when he forgets the steps.

The song is over all too soon and within seconds of the last note being played Azriel steps in with a gracious bow.

“Princess,” the shadowsinger greets me.

“Azriel,” I curtsey.

“Thanks brother,” Cassian smiles, clapping Azriel on the back before heading out.

“Don’t mention it,” Az nods, taking me in his arms and beginning to waltz me around. “Did he tell you?”

“Yes he did,” I laugh remembering the blush that covered his cheeks when he did. Never in my life did I think I would see my general, The Lord of Bloodshed, blush. “Have you been practicing with Mor too?” I raise an eyebrow.

“No actually,” Azriel says, spinning me around in a circle. “Dancing has always come quite naturally to me.”

“Well I’d even dare to say that you’re a better dance partner than Eris,” I smile as Azriel dips me with the grace that only a warrior could possess.

“Speaking of Eris, I saw what happened. Are you okay?” Azriel asks quietly, pulling me closer so that no one can hear us.

“As okay as I can be. Gods everything about this room is stifling.” I roll my eyes.

“Would you like to get some air outside?” he asks me and I nod.

Azriel leads me out to the terrace at the back of the ballroom. When we get there I expect to see at least one couple sticking their tongues down each other's throats. But when the chill night air hits my bare skin it’s easy to see why we’re the only ones out here. I lean my back against the railing as Azriel closes the wooden doors behind us, the sound of the symphony and chattering people becoming muffled.

Az pulls a corked bottle of wine out from behind his back with a cheeky grin, “You looked like you might need this.” he says pulling out the cork with a pop.

“You’re a literal savior Az,” I smile, taking the bottle from him and putting it to my lips. It was the same wine I complimented Beron on and it slid down all too easy.

Azriel leans against the banister with me as we look out over the Autumn Court. Darkness envelops the land so that the only thing to be seen are a few fae lights and of course, the stars. I smile at the sky for a moment. No matter where I go or whom I marry, night will always follow me, and there’s a comfort there.

“So you’re really going through with this?” Azriel croons, his voice laced only with curiosity.

“I am,” I nod, swigging from the bottle again. “Eris is a viper, but he has something we need. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my people and my family safe.”

“You deserve to marry for love y/n. You deserve to be happy too. You think that Rhys is the only one who made sacrifices for you and our court but you went under that mountain too.” he points out using that big brother tone he loves to use so much.

“Saving my court will make me happy.”

“But is marrying Eris what you truly want?” he asks honestly, trying to get to the root of things. So I let him have it.

“Gods no Az. Look at me. Eris has already made me his little pet with this ridiculous necklace. I don’t think I could ever love Eris or be truly happy with him. But he’s been very clear about me bearing him many children, maybe I’ll find my happiness in them,” I rant, chugging more wine trying to drown out the sound of the voices in my head.

“What about Cassian?” Azriel asks and my heart nearly stops. I don’t even let myself breathe for a moment.

“What about him, Azriel?” I sigh, turning around and pressing my back to the bannister so that I could see the wooden doors that lead back to the viper den of aristocrats.

“You obviously have feelings for him,” Azriel scoffs like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“What makes you say that?” I laugh. Azriel is dangerously close to covering the truth, one I haven’t had the guts to admit to myself. Because saying the words out loud? They would crumble the very foundations I stand upon, and then what would be left?

“Because I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

“And how do I look at him? Huh?” I try to keep the fierce facade.

“You look at him the same way every man, woman, and child looks at you.” Azriel blurts out, his voice laced with frustration. “Hell even I used to look at you that way till I realized I couldn’t hold a candle to the way you look at Cassian.”

I crumble. Every thought I have falls apart at Azriel making such a statement because I know it’s true. But to acknowledge it, or even worse, to act on it? How selfish of a person would that make me? To turn my back on my brother who saved me under the mountain. To possibly deny him the chance to be with his mate, the cursebreaker, because he dies in battle. To risk Azriel’s life because he has to be on the front lines. To risk the lives of every man, woman and child in my court.

I had thought about it, gods I had. Especially at night, when I woke from my nightmares of being under the mountain. Or when I dreamt of that small female puppy in Eris’ kennels. It would’ve been so easy for me to walk into Cassian’s room just one door down and ask him to hold me. Oh gods I wanted him to hold me. But it couldn’t be and that killed me.

“You’re bold shadowsinger,” I gritted my teeth, sipping the last of the wine. “I’ll give you that. But if you’ll excuse me, Eris is probably looking for me.”

I shove the empty bottle of wine into his chest and thrust open the doors. I hear him call out for me clearly feeling bad about what he had said, but I don’t turn back. Tears prick my cheeks and I know that if I face Azriel once more and show him the truth I’ll fall apart completely.

My eyes scan the crowd for Eris, and admittedly Cassain. The latter is nowhere to be seen, but eventually I find Eris lounging on a chaise with a few of his friends, all of them clad in Autumn Court attire laughing boisterously. I walk over to him dodging everyone in front of me, wine clouding my mind.

“There she is,” Eris slurs, the wine from 4his glass nearly spilling out as he sits it on an end table. “Come here my pet,” he smirks, pulling me down to sit on his lap.

I grab the wine he set down and sip from it as I take in the men around us. At first glance I can tell they are all pompous assholes by the way they rake their gaze down my body. One even has the nerve to cock his eyebrow at me and my head turns to Eris to avoid his gaze.

“Isn’t she exquisite gentlemen?” Eris asks, nuzzling my neck.

A collective murmur of agreement falls upon the small group.

“The Jewel of Prythian,” Eris says, kissing my neck and I try to squirm out of his grasp but he only pulls me closer to him.

“I’ll say!” one of the men cheer causing the whole group to chuckle.

Eris’ mouth falls from my neck to my collar bone, “Have I told you yet tonight that this corset is doing wonders for your perfect tits pet?” he murmurs licking a long stripe up the side of my neck earning a round of tantalizing ‘ohhhs’ from his friends. At this rate I’m surprised they all haven’t whipped their cocks to enjoy the show Eris was so happily putting on.

“He’s not wrong,” says another man and I feel Eris smirk against the tops of my breasts. He’s enjoying the game of dangling me in front of his friends. A forbidden fruit only he can indulge in.

“I wonder how many males have fucked those tits,” crooned another bringing laughter to the forefront once more.

Eris laughs, “She’s completely untouched,” he smirks into my skin. “I’ll be the first.”

The men utter how impressed they are. Some mention how jealous they are. My heart rate quickens knowing that I couldn’t have walked into a worse situation.

“Eris,” I hiss quietly, my eyes scanning the room for Cassian but he’s nowhere to be seen still. I even look for Azriel or my brother, but the room is so packed full of people I can’t make anyone out.

“You know I was thinking about what you said earlier,” Eris croons and I know that tone, the one that means something terrible is about to happen. “When you said I don’t own you yet?”

“Eris stop you’re drunk,” I say low as I try to wiggle out of his grasp but it only instigates him more.

“Well the idea that you weren’t truly mine yet based on a technicality didn’t sit right with me little flame,” he started, blatantly ignoring my protests. “So while I let you dance with your filthy dog I ran downstairs to the vault.”

No, no, no, no. This isn’t happening.

“And I grabbed this,” he says, pulling out a ring so large I was surprised he was able to keep it hidden. Eris grabbed my left hand with unnecessary force and slid the thing on my ring finger. The weight of it nearly made me hurl. “Now you are mine. I’ve lived up to my end of the bargain, it’s been a month of courting and I’ve decided you will make a very obedient and agreeable wife.”

“And don’t forget fuckable!” the first man who spoke cheered.

“Yes, I’ll enjoy ruining you, my pet,” Eris smirks, kissing me softly.

“Hell yeah we need an heir!”

These men know no morals, no shame, no compassion. If my brother heard a fraction of what they were saying…Yes, my brother. Gods he probably heard so much worse with Amarantha.

“I can promise you all that an heir will be in her belly within a month,” Eris announced to his cadre, earning cheers from them all as they drank from their cups.

I knew it was coming. I think in my heart I always did. From the moment I met Eris he had never once given me any indication that he wouldn’t marry me. Hell even if he hated me it was evident that he had every intention of marrying me just so he could say he deflowered and owned the Jewel of Prythian. I knew all of this and yet I still felt blindsided.

“What do you say pet? Shall we start trying now?” Eris croons, earning another rally from his companions.

“Eris that’s enough,” I grunt, pushing him off for good this time. The men around us laugh at my reluctance as I stand to my feet.

“You little!” Eris seethe standing up right after me and gripping my arm.

“Bend her over your knee and spank her Eris!” drunkenly laughed a man.

“You touch me right now and our marriage will be void by the laws of your court!” I growl, reminding him.

“I am the High Lord, I'll change them myself!” he growls at me.

“Not yet you aren’t,” I scorn him, nothing short of murder in my eyes. “I will see you in three days time to begin planning the wedding. I expect you to be sober and act with the morals befitting of a future High Lord.”

I free my arm from his grasp, leaving him to contend with the embarrassment of failing to control his future wife in front of his companions. I rip off the engagement ring and pocket it, unable to stand the weight of it. My eyes dart around for Cassian and when I don’t find him I grab a bottle of wine from one of the unattended tables. I make my way to the front door, choosing to walk all the way back to the Night Court if necessary. As I reach for the door it’s pulled back by the other side revealing a very disheveled Cassian.

“There you are, I was looking for you,” I grumble, still agitated from Eris’ antics.

“You look upset, what happened?” he slurs slightly.

“Are you drunk?” I ask tapping my foot in the still half open doorway.

“Yes, but you didn’t answer my question, what the hell happened?” Cassian grumbled straightening up and pushing the fog from his brain.

“Eris happened,” I complained, gesturing to where he sat laughing with his companions again. “He was just showing me off and talking about making an heir and all that shit. It doesn’t matter. I stole some wine, let's go.” I huff starting to move past him.

“No that’s it, I’m going to fucking kill him.” Cassian seethes and begins to move past me, but I place a hand on him stopping him.

“No stop,” I protest standing in front of him, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Eris. “I’ve had enough drama for one night. Please just take me home.”

Cassian doesn’t take his gaze off the future High Lord, his breathing picking up, the siphons he had on his hands glowing.

“Cassian,” I whisper, his name for only him to hear. His gaze falls to mine and softens. “Take me home.” I plead.

His eyes go soft at my pleas and I see him come back to earth, “Let’s go,” he says leading me out the door.

We step out into the night air and waltz down the steps. Each and every step that we take pulls me further away from that cursed room, and as the sound of music and chatter get even further away I start to feel myself relax more. Cassian’s presence is like an anchor that keeps my feet on the ground. I am comfortable. I am safe.

We reach the bottom of the long stairway, and Cassian stops in his tracks. I turn to find him looking a little shocked, like he just remembered something.

“What is it?” I ask taking a step towards him.

“I uh,” he stumbles over his words. “I got you something.”

He turns around to a large potted plant at the base of the long steps leading up to the ballroom. His large form bends down to pick up something that’s behind it and when he emerges once more he holds a puppy in his arms. I can’t help but gasp as the puppy wiggles to life, looking comically small in the Illyrians arms. I set down the stolen bottle of wine so that I can see her.

“I might’ve gotten a little drunk and broken into Eris’ kennels to get her,” he laughs passing her into my arms. “You just loved her so much and you kept talking about her and… I just couldn’t leave her.”

The puppy wiggled in my arms licking my face like she had remembered me from our first meeting. I know I would know her face and markings anywhere.

“Oh Cassian you have no idea how much this means to me,” I beam tears gracing my eyes.

“I figured we could find her a better home, somewhere she will be loved,” Cassain smiled.

It that moment I don’t think I could’ve ever loved him more. I looked up to see him watching the puppy wiggling in my arms. Everything about him was so beautiful, from his sharp jawline to the tendrils of hair that had fallen out of his low bun. I couldn’t help myself. I stood on my tip toes and pressed a loving kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you Cassain,” I smile at him as I watch that blush return to his cheeks.

“Anything for you princess,” he reminds me. “Now we really have to get going before someone figures out I stole that thing.” Cassian laughs picking up the bottle of wine and then me.

We take off into the air and I can’t help but let out a laugh at how ridiculous this all looks. A general, his princess, a stolen puppy and a stolen bottle of wine making a beeline for the Night Court.

Cassian and I land on the terrace of the House of Wind in a fit of laughter recalling stories of his and my brother's adolescent lives.

“I couldn’t help myself, he was some prick in his new training clothes and I was a kid with nothing. He deserved to get a little beat up!” Cassian laughed, the most real one I had ever heard from him.

“He probably deserved it. Rhys is terrible at first impressions,” I giggle thinking of how haughty my young brother used to be.

Cassian opens the door to the kitchen and living room letting us both in. The house is dark save for a few fae lights over the kitchen island. I wasn’t sure where the shadowsinger was, but whatever lady he was entertaining was certainly a lucky one. The puppy had fallen asleep in my arms on the flight home, so I set her adorable self down on one of the many plush couches. The entire time I felt Cassian’s eyes watching me intensely.

“My buzz is starting to wear off,” I smile, turning from the pup and walking past Cassian and into the kitchen. “Let’s have a nightcap before we go to bed.”

I pull out my brothers expensive whiskey and a couple of glasses. I wait for Cassian to say something, anything, but he stays silent. The only indication that he’s still there are the raised hairs on my neck indicating that he’s watching the back of my head as I start to pour myself a glass.

“Single or double?” I ask him, my hands holding his glass and the decanter of whiskey.

I wait for a response, but the silence that seeps from him fills the room with an unexplainable tension. I’m suddenly all too aware of the lack of heat in the room as the hair on my arms rises and oh gods I can feel him. His presence behind me.

The sound of cool, calculated and slow footsteps echo off the walls of the room and suddenly he’s there behind me. His heat radiates towards me and I don’t dare turn around. His fingertips graze the backs of my elbows, letting me know he’s there.

“Y/n,” his voice is like a prayer as his hands dance around the backs of my arms. My breath hitches at the utterance of my name, he never calls me by my name and the sound of it on his lips makes my toes curl.

I slowly turn from the kitchen island and I’m met with a wall of pure muscle. I crane my head up to meet his intense gaze, and his eyes say everything. They pierce right through me. I rest my hands on his forearms letting the feel of the fabric over them ground me but it doesn’t help. He’s too close, and he’s too warm and he’s everything.

“Cassian,” I whisper for only him to hear.

I press a hand to his chest feeling his heartbeat beneath his shirt finding that it’s beating just as wildly as mine. My eyes meet his again and there’s a pleading there, like he might be suffering and I’m the only one who can end it.

“Kiss me,” I breathe.

His hand sweeps under my chin pulling his lips on mine and I suddenly realize why the romance novels I’ve read describe it as earth shattering. Cassian’s hands fall to my waist and I feel like I’m on fire everywhere his body meets mine. His lips feel like heaven against my own, nothing like the way Eris kisses me. No, Cassian kisses me like he might love me. My hands grip his shirt and pull him closer.

I feel his fingers slide down my waist and beneath my thighs. He hoists me up, dress skirts and all, onto the counter and I suddenly have much better access to him. His mouth wanders down my neck leaving wet kisses all over me. I place a hand behind me to get more support and the empty whiskey glass shatters on the tile floor.

The large necklace Eris gave me gets in the way of his kisses and I feel my blood boil for a moment. How could I belong to Eris when Cassian kisses me like this? When he holds me like I’m his everything?

I capture my lips in Cassian’s once more pulling him away from my neck. His mouth is warm and soft on mine. My fingers find the front of the ridiculous necklace and I tear it off, the sound of the clasp breaking reverberating through the house. Cassian growls and presses his hips further between my legs, my hand slaps on the granite counter for support, the gems of the necklace clattering with it. I release it so that my hands can fly to the buttons on his shirt. The growl that had come from his lips had changed something in me. I needed him now, and I needed all of him.

“Cassian,” I pleaded. The name rolls off my tongue with such ease. His hands roam my body and all I can think about is how I need more. More, more, more, more.

I get the top half of his shirt unbuttoned and I let my fingers roam the bare skin that lies there. He’s warm against my chilled hands, and as my fingertips brush over a long scar I can’t help but want to feel all of him. Know all of him.

“Stop, stop,” Cassian mutters, taking my hands in his and pulling them away from his chest.

My mind immediately starts to panic as he backs away from me. What have I done? I’ve ruined everything. I try to meet Cassian’s eyes from a few feet away but he won’t look at me. Instead he looks at his hands, like they’re covered in blood.

“I can’t. I can’t do this,” he mutters still out of breath.

My heart shatters. I had dreamed of kissing Cassian, of having him hold me like he was just seconds ago. Never did any of those dreams end the way this one is now.

“Cassian I-”

“I’m not worthy,” he breathes, never taking his eyes off his hands. “I’m not worthy of you.”

My already shattered heart shatters again.

I slide off the counter taking slow steps towards him waiting for him to flinch or move away but he doesn’t. I reach him placing a hand on the cheek feeling the stubble there, and despite his words I swore he leaned into my touch ever so slightly. My thumb caresses his face, begging his eyes to meet mine and they do. In that beautiful shade of hazel there’s a sorrow by likes of which I’ve never seen.

“Then show me every part of you that feels unworthy of my love and let me kiss it until it knows nothing but it,” I say to him, praying he hears every single word. His eyes soften.

“Y/n,” he breathes pulling my lips to his once more and I swear right then and there that I’d do anything that man asked me if he just said my name like that again.

My arms wrap around his neck pulling him down towards where I stand on my tiptoes to reach him. Somehow this kiss is more passionate, on both ends as I try to live up to what I’ve told him. His hands hoisted me up again, even though the skirt of my dress was debilitating.

I feel myself being carried down the hall into a room I realize is his from this scent enveloping me from every angle. He sets me down gently, like I might break and kicks the door behind him closed. My hands find the last buttons on his skirt and I get them off with ease, my next course of action has me reaching around my back to tug at the strings of the corseted dress. I get the tie undone, but the rest is tricky.

“Wait, stop,” Cassian orders, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. “Are you sure you want this? Because once I start I won’t be able to stop.”

“I want this, I want all of you Cassian.” I nod still breathless and his eyes search mine for any hint of a lie. “Please,” I beg and I watch all resolve fall from his face.

“Fuck y/n,” he moans before pressing his lips to mine.

My hands find the bare muscles of his chest, and try to commit every line and scar to memory. I run my hands all over him, the warmth and feel of him addicting. My fingers fall lower over his abs and I swear I melt at the years of building muscle there.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “You can’t touch me like that.” he growls using his hands on my hips to spin me around so my back is flush to him.

His lips find my neck and I swear I could fall apart just by the way his mouth feels on my skin. I feel the laces on my dress get looser and looser as his fingers work them apart behind me. The second the top one is loose enough the weight of the skirt pulls the top down leaving me completely bare. My breath hitches as I feel his calloused fingers gently coaxing me to turn around and face him. The second I do my cheeks flush and I fight the urge to cover myself.

“You’re so beautiful. I wish I knew a better way to say it than that. You are-” he loses his words, pulling me closer so my breasts are pressed to the bare skin of his chest. The feeling is euphoric. “You are everything.” he says, and it feels more like a confession.

He leans in to kiss me once more but I press my hand to his cheek to stop him, “Cassian,” I breathe and I feel his breath hitch at the way I say his name. “I love you.” the phrase echoes through the room.

I feel his body tense pulling me impossibly close. “Now I’m never letting you go,” he mutters, pressing his lips to mine in a fiery need.

His hands hoist me up and I wrap my arms around his shoulders for support. My aching core brushes against his abs and it takes all my self control not to shift my hips to get more friction there. He lays me gently on his bed, and I feel my back sink into his mountains of pillows. His clothed hips settle between mine and he pulls his head back to look at me.

“I’ve loved you ever since I met you. We had just barely become adults and I walked into the townhouse for the first time and saw you reading a book by the fire and I knew,” he confessed. “I knew I loved you before I even knew your name.”

I couldn’t stop the rogue tear that slipped from my eye at his confession. Cassian’s lips kissed the drop away before pressing his lips to mine once more. My hands threaded to his hair as he made his way down my neck leaving a trail of fire everywhere his lips brushed.

“Can I touch you?” Cassian breathed against the valley between my breasts.

“Yes,” I hiss needing him everywhere.

His lips attach themselves to the aching bud of my breast, pulling it taut. I gasp, arching my back off the bed watching him roll my nipple in his mouth. His other hand reaches to twist my other breast and I swear I’ve never felt so good in my life. My hands find his long hair and tug on it, earning a groan from him that sends vibrations through me. He switches to the other side giving it the same treatment and oh gods, this man would certainly be the death of me. His lips come off my breast with a pop as he takes in the sight of me.

“You’re perfect,” he says, pressing a kiss between my breasts once more.

“I want you inside me,” I groan, pressing my hips into him.

“No I’ll hurt you,” he grits, feeling my arousal press against him as he leaves kisses on my stomach.

“Cassian please,” I cry, tears threatening to fall from the sheer need I have for him. His eyes meet mine and I know I have him right where I want him.

“It’s going to hurt y/n,” he tells me.

“I don’t care,” I say, leaning up a bit to cup his face bringing his lips to mine in a quick kiss. “When I said I want all of you Cassian I meant it. You said you’d do anything for me.”

“Fuck y/n, okay but I’m going to get you ready first,” he groans and before he can pull away I press a kiss to his forehead.

His lips trail down my stomach once more until he gets to where I need him most. He skips over my core to leave kisses on the inside of my thighs. My body goes limp and I fall into the pillows again craning my neck to see him. A hand slides up my thigh and runs through my folds causing me to arch my back.

“You’re so wet,” he grits out feeling the pool of arousal between my legs.

“Cass please,” I whine, arching my hips to his mouth.

I watch his eyes flair at the nickname and within moments his mouth is on me licking a stripe up my core that has me letting out an unnatural sound of pleasure. His tongue swirls around my entrance before licking another long stripe through my folds once more, flicking his tongue at the top. He attacks an area between my legs that has me arching off the bed and seeing stars. Surely there could be no better pleasure in the world than this. I let out a guttural moan that has Cassian smirking from where he feasts on me, his eyes lighting up in male pride.

“Oh gods Cassian! How are you-ah!” I cry out feeling tears prick my eyes from the waves of euphoria gliding through my body, like every nerve was being caressed by his hands all at once.

“It’s your clit y/n,” Cassian smirks. “Surely all those naughty romance books taught you about your own anatomy?” he teases rubbing circles on the bud with his fingers.

“No I think they- Ah! They might’ve glazed over that part.” I cry out trying to keep my back from arching off the bed.

“Then allow me to enlighten you,” he grinned before feasting on me once more.

The feeling of his mouth on me had me reaching for something to grasp onto, something to ground me. Cassian must’ve noticed as seconds later I felt his rough hand grasp mine holding it tightly. His other drifted from my hip and I felt him sink a long finger into me slowly but surely. The new sensation had my heartrate picking up even more. It skyrocketed as he started pumping it in and out of me until he added another. The knot in my stomach started to build and I could feel my body pulling closer to the edge.

“Cassian I’m going to- OH GODS!”

I didn’t even have time to finish the sentence before I was falling over the edge, all over him. He rode me through my orgasm before pressing a kiss to my clit.

“You taste fucking amazing,” he says, voice deep and husky. If he had spoken to me like that in a setting where my clothes weren’t already on his bedroom floor I would’ve ripped them off just the same.

“I do?” I laugh, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah you do,” he smiles moving up towards me. “Come here,” he says, pressing his lips to mine.

I savor the taste of him and well, me. It’s new, and I can tell by the way his hand is ripping down his pants that he finds it just as arousing as I do. I glance down to where his aching cock springs free and it takes everything in me not to gasp at the size of it. His hand tilts my chin up to press another quick kiss to my lips.

“Forget what I said earlier. The second you want to stop, just say the word.” he tells me.

“No, I want this. I want you to be my first,” I assure him and I swear I feel his cock twitch against my thigh at my words.

“Okay I’m gonna put it in, if it hurts just tell me okay princess?” he says, pressing a kiss to my brow. I nearly shudder at him calling me princess again, but this time it’s different, it doesn’t feel like a title, it feels like a loving name.

“I will,” I nod to him.

I watch as he guides his cock to my entrance, getting it slick with the aftermath of the orgasm he just pulled from me. I feel him sink in a bit and I start to feel the stretch. I focus my eyes on Cassain’s face. His brow is furrowed as he watches himself start to sink into me. He pushes in further and the stretch starts to burn causing me to take in a sharp breath.

“Shhh baby,” he coos, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You’re doing so good.”

“Keep going Cass,” I breathe out as tears prick my eyes.

He pushes in further and somehow even the pain feels good, because it’s him. Every single inch of him is flush to me and it still isn’t enough. It takes a moment but eventually his hips are brushing up to mine and he’s fully seated inside me, and gods, the feeling of being so full is the best feeling I’ve ever known.

CASSIAN’S POV:

As my cock finally sinks into her it takes everything in me not to pull out and slam back in. I curse myself for even thinking such a thought knowing how badly I would hurt her.

All the while I give her time to adjust her pussy flexes and clenches around my cock and godsshe’s so fucking tight. Sweat coats my brow and my muscles quake with the need to start moving but I won’t do it until she asks me.

“Okay move Cass, I’m ready,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to my lips.

Cass

Gods hearing her speak to me so informally shouldn’t make my heart beat so fast but it does.

I pull out a little before slowly pushing back in, relishing the feeling of how warm she is around me. I look down at her to look for any signs of discomfort on her face. Her eyes are closed, mouth slightly open, and the little pants falling from those perfect lips are enough to send me into a coma. I begin to build a steady pace once I feel she can take it and as I do those little pants turn into cries and I swear I could cum right there.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” I groan into her neck.

She lets out another moan and I can’t help but smirk knowing what my words do to her. My eyes glance at her face as I fuck into her. Her hair sprawled out all over the pillows, her eyes closed, the look of pure pleasure on her face. I press my lips to hers unable to stop myself, not when I’ve dreamt of doing so for so long.

Fuck how many times have I dreamt of her writhing in pleasure beneath me? The feel of her delicate hands wandering my skin? My name falling from those perfect lips? I couldn’t stop the words from falling from my mouth.

“Gods I love you so much y/n,” I say pressing my forehead to hers.

“I love you too Cassian,” she breathes and I watch as another tear falls from her face. I bring my lips down to kiss it away, and in that moment I vow that I’ll kiss her tears away till they bury me in the ground.

Her pussy clenches around me again as I thrust into her and I can tell by the way her finger nails are digging into my shoulders that she’s close.

“Let go for me princess,” I murmur through ragged breaths pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“CASSIAN!” she screams cumming all over my cock.

It’s enough to drive me over the edge with her, “Fuck y/n,” I moan as I thrust into her one last time watching her beautiful face come undone for me before I cum inside her.

Snap.

My eyes go wide and I’m thankful that she’s still too blissed out to notice as I feel that thread inside me that connects me to her.

Mate.

All this time, she was my mate. The reason I fell in love with her the moment I saw her, the reason I couldn’t stay away from her. The princess was my mate. Her words from earlier continued to echo through my head…

Show me every part of you that feels unworthy of my love and let me kiss it until it knows nothing but it…

I searched her face for any sign that she felt the bond snap too, but all I saw was her beaming up at me. Gods she was so beautiful. My mate was so beautiful.

I reached for the other end of that shining golden thread and found nothing there.

She didn’t know.

Part 6

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