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foxglovebells · 1 year

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The Winter Writer

Azriel x Reader

Summary: One day Mor brings her best friend to the house of wind for game night with the inner circle. Azriel takes immediate interest, as well as Nesta, Feyre, and Gwyn when they find out she’s the author to their favorite smutty romances.

Warnings: None

Notes: My first fic! This is just the first part and there will me much more to come (😏)

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“They’re going to love you” Mor squeals excitedly as she finishes up your makeup. “You have no idea.”

You and Mor had been best friends for centuries. You both knew absolutely everything about each other. Even after all these years you had still never met her family. Though, you weren’t very adamant on pushing it because they made you very nervous. She didn’t want them to scare you away, she had said, when you brought them up once.

You take a deep breath to gather your nerves before replying, “I don’t know Mor, I feel like I’m intruding on your inner circle.” You look up at her from where you’re sitting on the vanity in your apartment. Mor stands and looks down on you as she roles her eyes.

“I don’t think anyone could hate you, you’re like the most likable person I’ve ever met, and trust me, I’ve been alive for a long time.”

You moved to Velaris from the winter court half a century ago. Mor had said she would feel more secure knowing that her best friend was safe and not being caught up in the Amarantha drama. Having parents that had high positions in the Winter court put you too close to danger for Mor’s liking.

While you had never met the inner circle, you had heard almost everything about each one of them. Rhysand was the almighty, powerful high lord who had the biggest soft spot for everyone he loved and cared about. Feyre was kind, selfless, and had a touch for art. Cassian was an Illyrian who was cocky and funny but also gave the best hugs. Amren was a little scary and fierce, but she would always stand up and fight for her friends. Nesta was a tough shell to crack, but she still managed to be the best to talk to when you need advice. Elain was quiet but kind and nurturing. And Azriel, oh Azriel, you had never met him, but Mor always described him as silent, observant, kind, and so many more things. Was it possible to have a crush on someone you’d never met? You based a couple of your book characters on what you had heard of him. Of course, he could be completely different than what you imagined, in that case, you would be severely disappointed.

But even having heard all these things, you’ve yet to meet a single one of them, and because of this you were freaking the fuck out.

“I promise, hun.” She places her hands on either side of your face and looks straight into your eyes, “Plus, I know for a fact that the girls will like you. They have a little book club that has read every single one of your books.” A mischievous expression takes over her face.

“No way, Mor.” Your eyes widen. “You didn’t tell me they’ve read my books.” You shoot up from the vanity chair and pace through the room with your hands twirling a piece of hair to occupy yourself. “Cauldron, Mor, that would have been nice to know.”

Mor throws her head back in laughter, “They haven’t just read them darling, you’re a common talk amongst the library, you’re their favorite.” She walks up and boops you on the nose, you swat her hand away. “Nesta and Feyre are always talking about how sexy they are, I’ve even seen Amren reading one from time to time.”

“Is it too late to back out now?” You sigh in exasperation.

“Even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t let you.”

You glare at her, “I know.”

“Come on, sugar plum, we gotta get going.” Before you can protest she takes your hand and winnows you out of your apartment.

***

“Do we even know if she’s real?” Cassian mutters as he nurses a glass of whiskey. “I mean, Mor said she’s lived here for nearly 50 years—and been friends with her for longer—but we’ve never met her.”

“Probably because she didn’t want your horny ass to hit on her.” Azriel buts in as Rhys lets out a laugh in agreement.

“Your not much better, brother.” Cassian shoots him an amused glare but it’s ignored as Az takes a sip from his glass.

“I can’t say I’m not curious, though.” Rhys starts, “Mor said she was trustworthy enough to know about Velaris, and that she knew her for centuries before she moved here.”

“And yet we’ve never met her and when ever she comes up Mor shuts the subject down.” Cassian replies.

It did make Azriel wonder, he could send his shadows to get information on her, but she’s coming tonight so he might as well just wait and ask her—like a normal person.

All at once the 3 brothers perked up as soon and the felt someone winnow into the house.

“Guess it’s time to finally meet the mystery girl.” Rhys says before sauntering off and going to the main living area where the girls were already there drinking wine and gossiping about the latest book by their favorite author—Y/n Y/l/n.

***

When they enter the room Feyre, Nesta, Elain, Gwyn, and Emerie are all sitting in front of the fire, drinking wine and giggling quietly.

“Where’s Nyx, darling?” Was the first thing Rhys asks as he makes his way to Feyre’s side and places a loving kiss on her cheek.

Azriel always envied their mating bond, Cassian’s too. He had waited so long to feel the love of a mate, but he would wait as long as it took. He often tried to occupy his heart with harmless relationships to fill the void that hopefully would one day be filled with his mate. But even after centuries of waiting he had yet to even suspect someone. It made him insecure sometimes, how could anyone love someone as scared and broken as him? So to refrain from thinking these thoughts he buried himself into other activities, spying, reading, training. Anything that could take his mind off of the restless thoughts that invaded his brain.

“He ran off to greet Mor.” She replied while leaning into his kiss.

All the males looked slightly of put as they recalled the new unknown guest around around Nyx. Rhys stood straight and was about to go seek them out when they heard the sound of footsteps making their way towards them from the hall.

They all stood and watched as Mor entered the room followed by someone who was still out of view behind Mor.

Mor moved to the side and revealed the most beautiful female Azriel had even seen in his life. You were wearing a silky slip style dress in a deep midnight blue, it contrasted beautifully to the long white waves cascading down to your waist. Winter court, Azriel thought. What caught his attention the most was the small Illyrian at your side with his hand in yours.

“Daddy I found a girl!” Nyx shouts as he tries to drag you towards his father.

You have a small nervous smile on your face and you allow yourself to be dragged towards Rhysand.

“Nyx!” Feyre shoots up from her seat on the chaise and rushes over to snatch up Nyx, releasing your hand in the process. “I’m so sorry.” She says turning to you.

Mor makes her way back up to your side and you look over to her for reassurance. She nods at you and you look back to Feyre with a sweet smile. “That’s all right, nothing to be sorry about” you reply. “I’m Y/n, you must be Feyre.” Rhysand takes Nyx out of his mates arms and you hold out your hand to shake hers. She shakes her head at your hand and instead wraps her arms around you in a hug. You freeze slightly in surprise but quickly relax and return the hug.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you, Y/n. Mor is awfully protective.” Feyre sends a playful glare to your best friend and she returns it with a sheepish smile. You simply laugh at the exchange.

Mor takes your arm and walks you to the seating area and you take a seat on an armchair close to the fire.

“Y/n,” Mor starts, “This is Nesta, Elain, Gwyn, Emerie and you’ve already met Feyre.” She takes her time pointing to each female around the room. Gwyn and Nesta are sat beside each other on a two seater lounge while Elain sits on the arm chair across from you. Mor walks over to Emerie and lays a hand on her shoulder. You try to hide your smirk behind your hand as you glance between the two of them. The look she gives you is a mix between shut the fuck up and she’s hot isn’t she. It became clear to you that her family doesn’t know about her sexually orientation, that became more clear when you caught the confusion in the eyes of a couple of the others.

“Anyway,” she claps her hands together and walks back to where Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel were standing. “This is Rhysand—“

“Call me Rhys, please, any friend of Mor’s is a friends of mine.” You smile at him before Mor continues.

“Then my most favorite nephew, Nyx, whom you’ve already met.” She walks up and pinched the little boys cheeks, who squirms in his dads arms, resulting in him putting Nyx down. Nyx does something no one expects—especially not you—when he runs up to you, climbs onto your chair, and settles into your lap as if nothing was wrong in the world. Every one stares in shock while you just let it has happen, chuckling slightly.

Azriel watches you along with everyone else, but the thought churning in his mind aren’t ones that revolve around Nyx, no, the only thing he can think about is how, beautiful and sweet you are, he might not be able to forgive Mor for keeping you from him. Of course, not literally, but he had never felt to drawn to someone, especially not someone he had never met in his life.

“Sorry.” You say with a small laugh. “Is he normally this friendly?” You look up to see Feyre snickering and Rhys shaking his head in amusement. Mor just looks as if she’s having a proud mother moment.

“Not usually, but he doesn’t meet new people often.” Rhys supplies. “But if he’s bothering you feel free to tell us, we won’t be offended.”

“Oh no, he’s perfect.” You look to the little boy in your lap who’s the split image of his father. His big violet eyes are looking up at you as you smile down at him.

You remember that you hadn’t been introduced to everyone yet. “And I’m guessing these two are Cassian and Azriel.” You gesture to each of them.

Cassian beamed at you, “The one and only, nice to meet you Y/n.”

“You too, Cassian.”

Azriel kept silent but he gave you a forced tight lipped smile, that made your stomach drop a little. He didn’t like you, you concluded.

You looked over to Mor who noticed the interaction and noticed that slightly devastated look on your face. She was quick to change the subject.

“Nice going, asshole.” Cassian says to Azriel out of your ear shot, “She thinks you hate her.”

“What?” Azriel heart sinks, “Why would she think that?” He could never hate you, he knew it the minute he saw you. He wanted to talk to you but he didn’t know what to say.

“You gave her the same obviously fake smile that you give every female that any of us try to set you up with.” Cassian sends him a looks that screams could you be any more oblivious, “Didn’t you see her smile drop slightly and her look to Mor for reassurance?”

No, he did not, and now he feels like a dick. “I didn’t mean too.” He replies solemnly.

“Y/n’s from the winter court. We became friends the first time a visited when I was a child.” Mor smiled at you cheekily before continuing, “I wanted her to move here a few decades ago—“

“—because you’re like an overprotective mother hen.” You cut her off with a laugh but she shushes you playfully.

“No,” she asserts firmly with a glare in your direction, “Well, yes I guess a little.” The group around you laughs.

“If she’s lived here for decades why have we never met her?” Cassian asks and Mor roles her eyes at the questions.

“Did you not hear Y/n, Cass, protective mother hen.” She gestures to herself while you along with everyone else smiles at the interaction. “She needed protecting from the like of you, all of you and your corrupt sense of humor. Now, drinks.”

“Ugh, Yes please” and other mutters of agreement are heard from all around. Rhysand snaps his fingers and wine appears atop the coffee table at the center of the seating.

Elain pours you a glass and hands it to you, you smile gratefully. Nyx has since fallen asleep on your lap, his face tucked into your neck and you run your hand over his head while paying attention to conversation around you.

“So Y/n, you want to tell everyone what you do for a living?” Mor says, bringing everyone’s attention to you once more, though, you couldn’t help but notice that one particular person attention had been on you the whole time.

You glare at Mor, a real glare this time, no playfulness in your stare. “Morrigan, what did we talk about.” You say to her while everyone listens with interest. She doesn’t reply, but instead hold your stare with a challenging look. Eventually giving up you cave. “I’m an author.”

“I expected something completely different from the way you two were looking at each other.” Nesta laughs as she finished her glass of wine.

“Me too.” Pipes Gwyn who was sitting on the lounge where Feyre had once been. Feyre was now curled up in the lap of the high lord. “Are you published.”

“Um—” you hesitate.

“Yes, she is.” Mor states simply once she’s decided that you’re taking far to long to answer such an easy question.

“Do you think we’d know any?” Gwyn asks curiously. “The girls and I are in a book club, I’m sure we’ve had to at least heard of it.”

“Oh I write under pseudonym, you probably haven’t heard of me.” You attempt to laugh it off, but Nesta and Gwyn seem keen on getting the answer out of you.

“Try us.” Nesta pushes.

“Sellyn Drake.” You say quietly with a slight embarrassed chuckle. Please tell me they haven’t read my books, please, please, ple—

“Fucking shit!” Nesta shoots up, her refilled glass of wine spilling over the lip of the glass. Every female in the room seems to sit up, even Feyre from where she was comfortably tucked into Rhysand.

“You’re kidding, right?” Gwyn shrieks with an excited smile on her face.

“You’ve heard of me?” You say sheepishly.

“Heard of you!” Nesta snaps her fingers and every single book that you’ve ever published appears directly in front of you. You reach for a book, trying not to jostle the sleeping Illyrian in your arms. Opening the book you’re surprised to see annotations on every page, highlighted words and thoughts fill each blank space.

“Um wow, I didn’t expect this.” You laugh as you flip through the pages coming across and especially spicy scene before slamming the book shut and placing it back on the pile.

“Would it be weird if I asked you to sign them?”

“Not at all, how about we meet for coffee sometime, I can even bring the manuscript for my next book, I’ve been looking for some insight on it.” You suggest, a little bit nervous that she might turn you down.

“Holy shit, of course!” She looks over to Feyre, Gwyn, and Emerie. “You know what? What do you think about coming to our next book club meeting?”

You return her excitement at that, “That sounds perfect.”

Nesta excitedly goes to Cassian and plops in his lap. His arms wrap around her waist and kisses her neck.

“You’re the smutty romance author, eh.” Cassian guesses in response to his mates excitement.

Your face burns red and you attempt to hide it by looking away. Azriel watched the exchange with a barely there smirk on his face. Ah maybe he could use that as a conversation starter, he thought. He would only have to get you alone first. He observed that you weren’t to comfortable talking about your occupation in a large group like this with new people. Though, he didn’t understand why an extremely successful author wouldn’t want to flaunt her talents.

“Y/n?” Starts Rhys. “Are you comfortable talking about your family?” He didn’t want to pry, but he was curious, something about you was just so familiar.

“Oh, of course.” You loved your family dearly and enjoyed any excuse to talk about them, especially your sister. “My sister is the lady of the winter court.”

“Viviane?” Feyre asks and you nod in response.

“Yes, we’re fraternal twins.” You smile as you think about your twin sister who was such a talented warrior.

“She’s amazing, and so is my niece, Seely, who was born 3 years ago, about the same age as Nyx actually.” You gesture to the sleeping form wrapped in your arms.

“I hadn’t realized you had such useful connections—” Rhys starts.

“—No.” Mor cuts him off before he can continue. “You are not using my best friend for a winter court alliance. You want an alliance, figure out how to get it without using her as pawn.”

Rhys looked apologetic, “She’s right, I apologize Y/n.”

“No harm done, if it’s any reassurance Kallias and Vivian are rather fond of your inner circle. I’m sure if you ever did want an alliance you wouldn’t have trouble achieving it, with or without my assistance.” You reply, you truly didn’t mind, you actually found it quite comforting that he was willing to talk politics with you, even if it was an odd situation to do so.

A new voice speaks up, surprising everyone in the room. “So you can fight?” Azriel kicks off from his place in the shadows against the wall, finally stepping into the light of the fire and taking the empty seat to your left.

“What do you mean?” You ask him to specify.

“We’ll Viviane is a highly trained warrior, and I’ve seen how well trained the winter court army is. I was wondering if you were trained similarly.”

“Yes, Viviane and I were trained by our father from the moment we could walk.” You smile in remembrance, your father was such a good teacher and was kind and gave you advice on how to improve rather than yelling. Many of your favorite memories were training beside him and your sister. “It’s been several years though, I probably a bit rusty.”

“I could always help.” He rushes out, as if he didn’t really mean to say that. He clears his throat. “I mean, if you ever wanted to train again I would be happy to be your partner.” Azriel cursed himself for not controlling his words, he hoped you wouldn’t turn him down.

“I would love that Azriel, thank you.” You smile widely at him and you look back to the group.

Feyre stands up and begins to make her way towards you. “As much fun as this has been I really need to get Nyx into his bed.”

“Of course, do you want to take him or I would be happy to walk up with you so he doesn’t wake.” You offer, cradling Nyx against your chest in preparation for her answer.

“That would be amazing, Y/n.” She smiles graciously at you. You stand from the comfy armchair and follow Feyre out of the room and through a series of hallways. She comes to a bedroom and you both go in and put Nyx to bed. “I’ve never seen him act so attached to someone new before. He really likes you.”

“I’m glad, I really like him too.” You both make your way back to the sitting room as you yawn.

“I’ve had so much fun, but I really should get going before I become too tired to winnow home.” You stay standing up instead of sitting back down. You were sure that if you sat back down you would surely fall asleep.

“Stay the night, please.” Rhys offers, “you could join us tomorrow for breakfast and training.”

“And a book club meeting, the girls and I have one in the library tomorrow.” Nesta adds while each of the girls agrees.

“I don’t know,” you start to reply “I don’t want to intrude—”

“Y/n! How many times do I have to repeat myself before you process it in you thick skull.” Mor throws her hand up, exasperated. “You. Are. Not. Intruding.”

You fidget with a strand of your snowy white hair before replying. “Just because you feel that way doesn’t mean the others do. You’re biased Mor.”

“Oh Mother.” She pinches the bridge of her nose as if you are a insulant child.

“If you fear that you are intruding I can guarantee that you are not.” Feyre tells you kindly, a much kinder approach than Mor’s.

You’re still hesitant, but you make up your mind. “Alright, I guess I’ll stay.”

Everyone looks content with your response. But it’s Nesta who’s the first to talk. “Perfect. Training starts at sunrise.”

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel x you #mor #Rhysand #Feyre #Nyx #Acotar #night court #winter court #author #sellyn drake #books #foxglovebells

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cupidslove1 · 10 months

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Y/N: Guys I almost choked to death last night

Nesta: You’ll be fine. Next time you just have to stay still and breath through your nose before you take more.

Y/N [confused]: … I was talking about choking on food… What are you talking about…?

Nesta:… huh- I was talking about choking on stuff in general…

Cassian : I’m stuff in general.

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prythianpages · 6 months

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ACOSM | The Night Mor was Hurt

azriel x rhysand's sister (oc)

warnings: angst, mentions of blood/injuries/assault.

summary: Azriel finds an injured Mor that brings forth many realizations. Realizations that he has been avoiding for a time now.

A/N: We are two more imagines away from the end! I'm so excited to get started on Azriel & Valeria's love story! <3 for those that may be new here, this is an imagine among my collection that follow Rhysand's sister, Valeria. while I'm still working on them, you can find the masterlist for it here.

The training grounds echoed with the sound of grunts and the shuffling feet as Cassian and Azriel circled each other. Their movements were not as precise or graceful as usual, marred by their roaring hangover. Yet Cassian had insisted they still train.

“You’re getting sloppy, Az.” Cassian said, easily dodging Azriel’s punch. He had left little opportunity or time to protest on training when he forced Azriel awake. The image of Azriel holding Valeria, someone he saw as his own little sister, in such an intimate way brought a sense of unease. It was a feeling fueled by the protectiveness he harbored for her. “Anything on your mind recently?”

“You mean besides this raging hangover?” Azriel spat back, squinting as the sun’s rays blazed over them.

“Perhaps, I should specify. Anyone on your mind recently?”

Their hands moved, parrying and throwing punches. The hits were calculated, the strength held back. Cassian chose to cut to the chase, finally voicing his suspicions and concerns over something that had been gnawing at him for a while now.

“What’s going on with you and Valeria?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” Cassian snapped. He found an opening and landed a punch to Azriel’s shoulders, no longer holding his strength back and sending Azriel faltering backwards. “You two were cuddling.”

“You were cuddling me.”

“Oh and I’m sure it was me spooning you that gave you a raging hard on.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Azriel finally said with a defensive glare.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t understand because Rhysand is like a brother to us and she is his little sister. Our little s–”

“She may be like a sister to you.” Azriel cut in sharply. The icy rage he carried with him, one only Rhysand had witnessed before, dared to surface. “But not to me.”

Cassian glared right back at him. “She’s off limits.”

“Why? Is it because I’m a bastard?”

Cassian flinched. The weight of the word was heavy, one that burdened his own shoulders too often. It hurt him to think that Azriel would think so lowly of him, to call him out cruelly over something he had no control over, especially when Cassian was in the same position.

Azriel’s gaze hardened at the silence that fell, daring him to say what lingered unspoken in the air. He needed to hear it, to shatter the illusion he had desperately and delicately crafted for himself.

“You know I would never use that word against you like that but it’s an unfortunate title we must carry.” Cassian’s gaze had softened. “She is not only Rhysand’s sister but the daughter of a High Lord. She’s already suffered through so much and I don’t see this ending well for you, for her. So whatever it is that you two have, it needs to stop. Now.”

“I don’t think I can.” Azriel’s voice was pained, his face held an expression Cassian could not read.

“Don’t tell me you two have already…”

Azriel’s silence was an answer.

Cassian dropped his fists, using one of his hands to pinch the bridge of his nose instead as he felt bile rise in his throat. He had been angry at first. Despite not sharing the same blood, he loved Valeria like his own sister. And Azriel, he was his best friend, the closest thing to a brother he could ever have. He was torn. He wanted to be happy for Azriel. If it were anyone else, Cassian would’ve cheered him, would’ve annoyed him for more details.

Azriel could have anyone–anyone but her.

“This is more than physical attraction,” Azriel was desperately protesting because if anyone would listen and be willing to understand, it was Cassian. “When she hurts, I hurt. When she’s happy, I’m happy. I need to be with her all the time. I-I can’t control it.”

Cassian would never say it outloud but he hated the thought that surfaced onto his mind. His mother, born of low status, faced rejection after she became pregnant while his father had received no backlash. The same cruel fate had befallen upon Azriel’s mother. Why would Azriel and Valeria be any different? If anything, since their roles were reversed, it’d be worse and he could not let any harm come to Valeria or Azriel.

If the High Lord found out that his one and only daughter was no longer a virgin, no longer a pure bride…Cassian shuddered at the thought.

“Learn to control it.” Cassian’s cut through the air, his cold voice returning. “Before things get worse, before you fall in love.”

Azriel found himself stumbling back until the back of his knees hit the bench. He sank onto it as Cassian walked away. It’s already too late, he wanted to say. Everything he felt for Valeria had already turned into love. But he could not find his voice.

Cassian turned to leave, but before he moved on, he paused. “Count your stars lucky that it is me who caught you this morning and not Rhysand.”

Weeks later…

Valeria sighed deeply.

“Stop moving.” Her mother chided with a tsk.

“Is this really necessary, mother?” Valeria asked, her voice almost a whine as her mother continued to fuss with the fabric.

“Absolutely, my little star.” Lady Yvaine replied, eyes twinkling with excitement and admiration over her work. “Every stitch is a wish, every fold a dream. This dress has to be perfect.”

Valeria turned her head over her shoulder to glance at her reflection in the mirror. She was draped in a smooth white satin, a rough silhouette of a wedding dress. Her mother’s keen eyes were delicately placing a layer of glittery tulle, a celestial veil to adorn the gown with a twinkling brilliance, much like starlight on a clear night sky, over the satin fabric.

“I’m not even getting married,” Valeria grumbled as she turned back around.

Her mother, who was knelt before her, pinning the tulle fabric down looked up at her. “You never know when a charming suitor may come by. I want my daughter to be ready.”

Valeria knew there was no winning with her mother so she bit her lip to keep herself from retorting. She couldn’t ignore the nervous fluttering in her stomach at the mere thought of marriage. In a world where females rarely had a say in their unions, the looming specter of her father’s choice stirred unease within her. A selfish and innocent desire whispered in her heart, wanting to marry for love, a prospect already coming into mind…

The intricate ink wrapped around her ring finger pricked her skin, reminding her of Rhysand’s promise to her. That she would marry someone who could make her happy, make her laugh. Someone who loved her as much as she loved them. Someone who smelled good. It was a foolish promise for him to make but they were kids when the bargain had been struck. She wondered if it was a promise he would be able to keep or if they would discover the consequences of when a Night Court bargain is broken.

“I already made your husband’s suit so that it may match perfectly with your dress.”

Lady Yvaine’s voice pulled Valeria out of her thoughts. Valeria’s eyebrows knitted together, a ghost of a smile on her face at her mother’s enthusiasm. “How is that even possible? We don’t even know who it will be, their measurements, if they’ll even want to wear it.”

Her mother placed her hands on Valeria’s hips, using her body to help her rise. She smiled lovingly at her daughter, caressing her cheek. “I just know,” she said with a gleam in her eye.

The blood drained from Valeria’s face. “Is there something I should know? Has father–”

Lady Yvaine’s laughter interrupted Valeria. “Don’t fret, my dear. Nothing has been said so far.”

Valeria shifted as she fell deep into thought. Memories of the fear and worry she had felt when she learned of Mor’s arranged marriage flooded back and then her mind drifted to a conversation she had with her mother years ago. She knew her mother’s marriage to her father was not based on love. It was based on their mating bond, their fates intertwined and destined together by the Mother. And there was one question she hadn’t dared to ask back then…

Lady Yvaine frowned, mirroring Valeria’s expression. She could sense her daughter’s unease. “What troubles you, my dear?”

“How did you know he was your mate?” Her voice was merely a whisper.

“The bond snapped for us at the same time. It’s an indescribable feeling but when our eyes found each other, I felt like the world stood still. I couldn’t look away and in that moment, all I knew was that I needed him. I knew he felt it too when he killed my uncle, who had been seconds away from clipping my wings.”

“But you don’t love him.” It was more of a statement than a question.

Lady Yvaine gently cradled Valeria’s cheeks in her hands, pressing a loving kiss to her forehead. “But I love what he gave me.”

“A mating bond is rare in itself, even more so for love to be involved as well.”

Valeria wanted to ask more but a knock on her mother’s door had them both turning their heads. “Come in,” her mother’s voice beckoned and the door opened, revealing Rhysand.

He smiled as he entered, his eyes widening when he took in the sight of Valeria. The ink entangled around his left wrist pricked at his skin. “Is there something I should know?”

“Just mother being eager to send me off in her finest.” Valeria replied, turning to her mother with a pleading look in her eyes. Her mother rolled her eyes but gave her a light tap on her shoulder. “She already made your future wife's wedding dress. A whole wardrobe, in fact.”

Valeria made her way to the privacy screen in her mother’s room, keen to take off her future wedding dress.

“That’s insane.” She heard Rhysand chuckle as she changed back into her usual attire, a soft linen blouse and trousers to allow her to move freely, something that would be very much needed when she snuck off for her Valkyrie training later. “How do you even know if it’ll fit them?”

“She just knows.”

“I just know.”

Valeria and her mother said in unison as Valeria stepped out from the privacy screen. Her fingers worked her hair into a fishtail braid.

Lady Yvaine grinned and shrugged her shoulders. “Mother always knows best.”

“What are you doing here? Weren’t you visiting Mor?”

“I was but I couldn’t find her.” Rhysand replied as he helped their mother put away her needle and threads. “So then I thought why not go enjoy a nice lunch in Velaris with my beautiful mother and annoying little sister?”

Valeria gave him a vulgar gesture when their mother wasn’t looking. He stuck his tongue out at her in response. Their faces were stoic when their mother’s gaze flickered between the two.

But then Rhysand’s expression changed, contorting into one of pure bewilderment. His nostrils flared and body tensed. His mouth set into a hard line and then he was scowling. His eyes were distant but burning with rage.

“What is it?”

And when she heard it, she immediately recognized the voice that was frantically calling out her name, calling out her brother’s name. It was Azriel’s. Her eyes widened and then the three of them were running.

They found Azriel in the foyer of the Moonstone palace and Valeria felt her heart drop at the sight of the injured female in his arms. It was Mor.

Her blonde hair was disheveled and tangled with autumn leaves and branches. Her face was marred with dirt and scratches. Her skin was bare and exposed, revealing bruises and gashes but her stomach was the most terrifying sight. There were nails embedded to her skin, blood trickling down, as they held up a note.

Valeria didn’t bother to read the note as she rushed up to Azriel. Tears stung her eyes as she reached out toward Mor’s neck, a sliver of relief flooding through her at the pulse. She was alive.

“We need to get her to the infirmary.” Lady Yvaine stated. “I’ll call for Madja.”

Valeria’s touch lingered on Mor, her other hand reaching out for Azriel. She winnowed them into the palace’s infirmary, knowing Rhysand would follow. Azriel placed her gently on a bed and Valeria was quick to cover her with a sheet. She wanted to take the note nailed onto her stomach off but she could smell the faebane and she feared making the injury worse if she did so.

She glanced between Azriel and Rhysand, sensing that they were still communicating in their minds. “What happened?”

“Get Cassian.” Rhysand was ordering Azriel.

“Are you sure–”

“Get. Cassian.” Rhysand seethed, his fists clenching at his sides until his knuckles turned white. “I want him to see.”

Azriel turned to Mor, not wanting to leave his friend’s side while injured. She had been unconscious when he found her. He had been patrolling around Autumn Court’s borders per his High Lord’s request when his shadows alerted him of an injured female in the forest. He then shifted his gaze to Valeria and she gave him a reassuring nod, an unspoken promise that she would take care of Mor.

Azriel disappeared into his shadows and Valeria looked at her hurt friend, her own heart aching. “Mor,” she called out softly, her fingers gently wiping at the caked tears on her friend’s face, but the blonde did not stir, not even when Valeria’s own tears accidentally fell onto her face.

“Rhys, you have to tell me what happened, who did this.”

“Eris broke off the engagement and her family punished her. Her brothers did this to her and then they dumped her in Autumn.”

“Why would Eris break off the engagement?”

Valeria lifted her head, watching as Rhysand’s gaze darkened. The anger was not directed at her but at someone behind her. “Cassian.” He snarled. “Look at what you did.”

Valeria turned around. Azriel and Cassian stood behind her, a couple of feet away from her and Mor. Azriel’s face was stoic and unreadable but there was an icy rage within his hazel eyes. Cassian was frozen in pure horror as his eyes landed on the unconscious and bleeding female. He barely had enough time to react before Rhysand was lunging forward.

Rhysand pinned Cassian to the floor, shadows and darkness madly swirling around him. He gripped Cassian’s leathers to bring him up and then slammed him back down to the floor.

Rhysand’s hands wrapped themselves around Cassian’s throat. “You knew the consequences but you couldn’t keep it in your pants, could you?”

“Rhys.” Azriel reached out to pull Rhysand off of Cassian but was met with the wrath of Rhysand’s darkness.

“It wasn’t like that.” Cassian croaked out, his eyes pleading with him to hear him out. “Please–”

“Give me one good fucking reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Valeria caught the sight of Mor stirring in bed, her face contorting in pain.

“Enough!” Valeria exclaimed sharply, silver tendrils of moonlight escaping from her fingertips. They darted toward Rhysand, shattering his cloud of darkness and forcing him apart from Cassian.

Rhysand slammed into the floor, the silver tendrils wrapping around his wrists and anchoring him to the ground. Cassian was gasping for air and Azriel rushed to his hide, helping him to his feet. Rhysand’s gaze widened in disbelief as it landed on his sister. He knew she had powers but he had never seen them so violently on display and never had anyone been able to overcome his own.

Valeria was glowing, her powers trickling from her hands and threatening to lash out again. “I don’t care what happened but there will be no more injuries. Enough harm has been done.”

The door to the infirmary opened, her mother and Madja rushing in.

Valeria’s eyes were cold and demanding as they burned into her brother’s. His lips curled into a deep frown. She had never looked at him that way before.

“Val–”

“Leave.”

Days had passed and Valeria spent them at Mor’s side. She seldom left, only to shower, change or eat, but even then, she always made sure there was someone with Mor. Sometimes, it would be her mother, Rhysand or Azriel. She was reluctant to let Cassian watch over her, worried over what could transpire if Rhysand and Cassian bumped into each other, but she made sure to keep her friend up to date with Mor’s status.

It was on the eighth day that Mor finally woke. Her body was slowly healing. She had confessed everything to Valeria, on how Valeria’s words the night they went to Rita’s inspired her. She knew the consequences of her actions but she would much rather face those than live a life where she was forced to remain by Eris’s side. It wasn’t just Cassian she had spent the night with but Tanwyn as well and she had made Valeria promise that she would leave that detail out if anyone asked.

As Valeria held her crying cousin close, she couldn’t help the tears that fell from her own eyes. “I need to talk to him.” Mor whispered. “Cassian needs to know that I don’t blame him for this.”

Valeria nodded. “I’ll go get him for you.”

Valeria had given Cassian and Mor privacy. She froze when she felt her brother’s presence. “Rhys.”

The two hadn’t spoken much over the past couple of days. Valeria knew that Rhysand’s actions had been spurred by his protectiveness over Mor but she did not concur with the way he had attacked Cassian. Rhysand had apologized to her and to Mor but he knew it was Cassian who needed to hear it. Guilt flickered in his violet eyes.

“I need to talk to him.”

“After.”

She felt the cool caress of his shadows before she saw him. They slivered up her arms, coaxing her head to turn toward their master. She hadn’t spoken to Azriel much either. She was relieved that he was here, her body yearning to be close to him but she couldn’t bring herself to move. The way Rhysand had reacted to Cassian and Mor struck a sense of fear in her and Azriel, always attune to her, could feel it too.

When Cassian slipped out from the infirmary, she felt herself tense up. There was a reassuring tug, tempting her gaze to Azriel again just as his shadows had done. He would be present and willing to intervene if things got heated again. It was only after she felt another tug that she allowed herself to return to Mor, sending a wary glance to each of them.

Rhysand’s head hung low as they all sat in one of the living spaces of the palace. Azriel and Cassian had refused to sit in case they had to spring into action. Cassian leant against one of the pillars while Azriel stood in between them both. His shadows were curled against his ear, keeping him alert on every movement and breath.

“I’m sorry for hurting you.” Rhysand said. He finally lifted his gaze, his eyes brimming with tears. “Mor is like a sister to me and seeing her hurt–” he grimaced as the image resurfaced “--I shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that. I was just so angry but you didn't deserve that. She explained everything to me. I just wish you would’ve come to me first. We could’ve planned something, I–I could’ve protected her.”

Cassian mirrored Rhysand’s sullen expression. This was the first time they had fought over a serious matter and gone days without speaking. “I’m sorry too.”

The two exchanged a teary look and before they knew it, they were hugging and forcing Azriel to join.

When they pulled away, Rhysand dragged a hand down his face, his features betraying his exhaustion from the previous days. He looked at his two closest friends, his brothers. “We can’t keep secrets like this from each other.” He sighed. “Is there anything else I should know?”

Azriel’s shadows stopped their whispering and froze as their master’s wings twitched. This was his chance to tell Rhysand–to come out clean. Perhaps, Rhysand would be understanding, he would find a way to help him and Valeria. But it was Cassian’s gaze he met first and he moved his head in a subtle manner. Don’t.

“Alright then,” Rhysand broke the silence. He tapped Cassian and Azriel on the shoulder in a farewell gesture. “I need to go speak to my father over Mor’s new living arrangements. She’ll be staying with Valeria and my mother from now on.”

Shadows danced around them, enveloping them in a cloud of darkness and keeping their exchanged words a secret.

“I fucked up.” Cassian said with a frown, his wings sagging to the floor. While Mor and Rhysand had forgiven him, he couldn't forgive himself. He knew that Mor would face great punishment for losing her virginity to him but he would've never imagined it'd result in something as terrible and cruel as this. “Didn’t I?”

“Yes.” Azriel answered dryly. “You’re a fucking hypocrite.”

“It’s different.” Cassian was quick to reply.

Azriel glared, remembering their conversation from weeks ago, when Cassian had warned him to stay away from Valeria, reminding them of the consequences that laid ahead of them if they continued to be together. And then Cassian had gone and done something similar with Mor and it was only Mor who had to face the brutal consequence of their actions alone. This is exactly what Cassian had warned him about so how was it any different?

“It’s not.”

“I don’t love Mor and it was a one time thing only. You, on the other hand…” Cassian’s voice trailed off.

Azriel braced himself for Cassian’s expected harshness, anticipating an insult. He was not prepared for the sting of the words that followed:

“Let this be a reminder to us, as cruel as it is, that in this world, you and I are no different than the females in Prythian in some aspect. We are not free to want things. We are not free to love who we want. We are not deemed worthy."

As Cassian took a step back, Azriel’s shadows fell. They returned to their master, sensing his hurt and snaked around his limbs. They wrapped him in their loving embrace, offering the comfort they had provided for many years.

Not deemed worthy. The words had sliced through him like a blade, shattering the fragile illusion he had painstakingly built around himself. It was an illusion he clung to desperately, hoping that Valeria could one day be his–that he would one day be worthy of her smile, her heart.

Falling in love with her had been effortless, inevitable almost. But he was no lord, bore no high status. He was a bastard and the realization of his unworthiness cut deep– a painful acknowledgement that she, the High Lord’s daughter, was beyond reach. His reach.

He would forever be hers but she would never be his–could never be his. A love forbidden, an unattainable dream.

tag list: @justrepostandlove , @kemillyfreitas, @thelov3lybookworm

A/N: this part was hard to write for me because Cassian did the one thing he warned Azriel about so I tried my best to convey both of their feelings. What happened between Mor and Cass was consensual and Mor was aware of what could happen still no excuse for what her family did to her, broke my heart when I read that part in the book while Azriel and Valeria are in their own little bubble, choosing to ignore the consequences. So while they essentially did the same thing, their intentions were different.

There is a small glimpse into how Rhysand will react once he finds out about Az and Val. I also wanted to include/mention her powers. I'll dive deeper into them in her storyline but she has powers related to the moon, which is why I'm always comparing them lol. Hope y'all still enjoyed this part!

#acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #acotar angst #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #rhysand's sister #mor acotar #mor acotar imagine #azriel imagines #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel x rhysand's sister #azriel angst #acotar #acosm

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polyacotarweek · 18 days

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Day 1 Masterlist: Beginnings

Fanfic

"How I Met Your Fathers" by @acourtofladydeath (Feytamsand)

"Serve + Protect" by @starfall-spirit (Feyssian)

"Embers In The Wind, Ch 1" by @chunkypossum (Nerissian)

"this is me trying, Ch 1-3" by @witch-and-her-witcher (Nessriel)

"I Could Be a Better Boyfriend Than Him" by headcanonheadcase (Valkyries)

"Together" by @littlestw01f (OC X Rhys X Eris)

"Then There Were Three" by @nocasdatsgay (Reader X Azris)

"A Fresh Start" by @tsunami-of-tears (Reader X Cazriel)

"Together for the First Time" by @danikamariewrites (Reader X Feysand)

"Pretty Flower Garden" by @tadpolesonalgae (Reader X Mor X Elain)

"The Story of Us" by @readychilledwine (Reader X Nesta X Cassian X Azriel)

Fanart & Miscellaneous

"Emotional Support Lucien" by @copypastus (Lufeylin/Feytamcien)

AU Snippet by @lorcandidlucienwill (Feytamsand)

If your creation is missing or you see an issue with the masterlist, please reach out to the blog so we can rectify it!

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marshmellowrio · 2 months

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Flight of the Night | Chapter 4

A/N: A bigger one, this scene goes on forever, ughh. This hasn't been proofread, like every other chapter I have posted (oops?).

Word count: 3.5K

I watch as Feyre addresses Azriel, “How did you meet?” Azriel turns to look at Cassian, I follow his gaze. Cassian is a way better storyteller than Azriel, that’s fact.

“We all hated each other at first.” A grin ghosts over his lips as he starts, his eyes flickering between the four of us, Illyrians. “We are bastards, you know. Az and I. The Illyrians… We love our people, and our traditions, but they dwell in clans and camps deep in the mountains of the North, and do not like outsiders. Especially High Fae who try to tell them what to do. But they’re just as obsessed with lineage, and have their own princes and lords among them.” He holds my gaze before continuing, pointing a thumb in Azriel’s direction. “Az, was the bastard of one of the local lords. And if you think the bastard son of a lord is hated, then you can’t imagine how hated the bastard is of a war-camp laundress and a warrior she couldn’t or wouldn’t remember.” I see the casual shrug of his shoulders for what it is, a way to dampen the vicious, ancient anger raging through his veins at the thought of his mother. “Az’s father sent him to our camp for training once he and his charming wife realized he was a shadowsinger.”

“Like the daemati,” Rhys says to Feyre, “shadowsingers are rare—coveted by courts and territories across the world for their stealth and predisposition to hear and feel things other can’t.”

Something I have been wary of for centuries. Being secretive around Azriel was a feat not easily accomplished.

Cassian continues, “The camp lord practically shit himself with excitement the day Az was dumped in our camp. But me… once my mother weaned me and I was able to walk, they flew me to a distant camp, and chucked me into the mud to see if I would live or die.”

“They would have been smarter throwing you off a cliff,” Mor snorts.

“Oh, definitely,” Cassian says, his grin sharpening. “Especially because when I was old and strong enough to go back to the camp I’d been born in, I learned those pricks worked my mother until she died.”

A silence falls, simmering anger hanging like a cloud in the air.

“The Illyrians,” Rhys cuts in smoothly, “are unparalleled warriors, and are rich with stories and traditions. But they are also brutal and backward, particularly in regard to how they treat their females.”

Azriel’s vacant eyes lock on mine, my face schooled in a stone-cold expression.

“They’re barbarians,” Amren says and neither of the males object.

I keep silent as Mor nods. “They cripple their females so they can keep them for breeding more flawless warriors.”

Rhys cringes. “My mother was low-born, and worked as a seamstress in one of their many mountain war-camps. When females come of age in the camps—when they have their first bleeding—their wings are… clipped. Just a small incision in the right place, left to improperly heal, can cripple you forever.” I tell myself to keep breathing, keeping the memories at bay and listen to the story. A story I’ve heard countless times, but never becomes easier. “And my mother—she was gentle and wild and loved to fly. So she did everything in her power to keep herself from maturing. She starved herself, gathered illegal herbs—anything to halt the natural course of her body. She turned eighteen and hadn’t yet bled, to the mortification of her parents. But her bleeding finally arrived and all it took was for her to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time, before a male scented it on her and told the camp’s lord. She tried to flee—took right to the skies. But she was young, and the warriors were faster, and they dragged her back. They were about to tie her to the posts in the center of camp when my father winnowed in for a meeting with the camp’s lord about readying for the War. He saw my mother trashing and fighting like a wildcat, and… The mating bond between them clicked into place. One look at her, and he knew what she was. He misted the guards holding her.”

“Misted?” Confusion laces her voice. As Cassian chuckles sharply.

Rhys floats a lemon wedge into the air and flicks his finger, turning it into citrus-scented mist. I lean forward to catch the look on Feyre’s face, she takes misting entire beings better than I did the first time. She hasn’t seen him do it yet, but the insinuation of it, was enough to make me still when I realised the extent of Rhys’s powers.

“Through the blood-rain,” Rhys goes on, “my mother looked at him. And the bond fell into place for her. My father took her back to the Night Court that evening and made her his bride. She loved her people, and missed them, but never forgot what they had tried to do to her—what they did to the females among them. She tried for decades to get my father to ban it, but the War was coming, and he wouldn’t risk isolating the Illyrians when he needed them to lead his armies. And to die for him.”

“A real prize, your father,” Mor grumbles. I cast my head down, he never did me wrong. But his methods could be…harsh.

“At least he liked you,” Rhys counters. “my father and mother, despite being mates, were wrong for each other.” I grimace, I sometimes wonder how often a mating bond is set between two beings while they’re not right for each other. “My father was cold and calculating, and could be vicious, as he had been trained to be since birth. My mother was soft and fiery and beloved by everyone she met. She hated him after a time—but never stopped being grateful that he had saved her wings, that he allowed her to fly whenever and wherever she wished. And when I was born, and could summon the Illyrian wings as I pleased… She wanted me to know her people’s culture.”

“She wanted to keep you out of your father’s claws,” Mor says, swirling her wine. Azriel finally looks away from me and I let loose a breath, his memories finally clearing. I have no doubt I was involved in that memory from the way he had stared for the past few minutes.

“That, too,” Rhys adds drily. “When I turned eight, my mother brought me to one of the Illyrian war-camps. To be trained, as all Illyrian males were trained. And like all Illyrian mothers, she shoved me toward the sparring ring on the first day, and walked away without looking back.”

“She abandoned you?” I understand Feyre’s deduction but it still has me narrowing my eyes.

“No—never,” Rhys says, with as much ferocity as I felt for his mother’s memory. “She was staying at the camp as well. But it is considered an embarrassment for a mother to coddle her son when he goes to train.”

Cassian laughs, catching the look on Feyre’s face. “Backward, like he said.”

“I was scared out of my mind,” Rhys admits. “I’d been learning to wield my powers, but Illyrian magic was a mere fraction of it. And it’s rare amongst them—usually possessed only by the most powerful, pure-bred warriors.” His eyes flit to me and I give him a lopsided grin. “I tried to use a Siphon during those years. And shattered about a dozen before I realized it wasn’t compatible—the stones couldn’t hold it. My power flows and is honed in other ways.”

“So difficult, being such a powerful High Lord,” Mor teases.

Rhys rolls his eyes. “The camp-lord banned me from using my magic for all our sakes. But I had no idea how to fight when I set foot into that training ring that day. The other boys in my age group knew it, too. Especially one in particular, who took a look at me, and beat me into a bloody mess.”

“You were so clean,” Cassian says, shaking his head. “The pretty half-breed son of the High Lord—how fancy you were in your new training clothes.” I snort, I can totally imagine young Cassian thinking like that.

“Cassian,” Azriel’s dark voice cuts in, “resorted to getting new clothes over the years by challenging other boys to fights, with the prize being the clothes off their backs.” The flatness in his voice revealed how much he cared for the Illyrian ways.

Cassian chuckles, he had a completely different experience, just as horrifying, but different. “I’d beaten every other boy in our age group twice over already, but then Rhys arrived, in his clean clothes, and he smelled… different. Like a true opponent. So I attacked. We both got three lashings apiece for the fight.”

From my side of the table, I see Feyre flinch.

“They do worse, girl,” Amren cuts in, “in those camps. Three lashings is practically an encouragement to fight again. When they do something truly bad, bones are broken. Repeatedly. Over weeks.”

“Your mother willingly sent you into that?” Feyre asks with a soft voice. She has a lot to learn about Illyrians and their customs, I think to myself.

“My mother didn’t want me to rely on my power,” Rhys says. “She knew from the moment she conceived me that I’d be hunted my entire life. Where one strength failed, she wanted others to save me. My education was another weapon—which was why she went with me; to tutor me after lessons were done for the day. And when she took me home that first night to our new house at the edge of the camp, she made me read by the window. It was there that I saw Cassian trudging through the mud—toward the few ramshackle tents outside of the camp. I asked her where he was going, and she told me that bastards are given nothing: they find their own shelter, own food. If they survive and get picked to be in a war-band, they’ll be bottom-ranking forever, but receive their own tents and supplies. But until then, he’d stay in the cold.”

“Those mountains,” Azriel adds, his hard gaze locking on mine again, “offer some of the harshest conditions you can imagine.” I know he still feels guilty about what happened to me, but I only duck my head not being able to bear his loaded gaze.

“After my lessons,” Rhys ignores the exchanged looks, “my mother cleaned my lashings, and as she did, I realized for the first time what it was to be warm, and safe, and cared for. And it didn’t sit well.”

“Apparently not,” Cassian takes over. “Because in the dead of night, that little prick woke me up in my piss-poor tent and told me to keep my mouth shut and come with him. And maybe the cold made me stupid, but I did. His mother was livid. But I’ll never forget the look on her beautiful face when she saw me and said, ‘There is a bathtub with hot running water. Get in it or you can go back into the cold.’ Being a smart lad, I obeyed. When I got out, she had clean nightclothes and ordered me into bed.” She had done some good for all of us. “I’d spent my life sleeping on the ground—and when I balked, she said she understood because she had felt the same once, and that it would feel as if I was being swallowed up, but the bed was mine for as long as I wanted it.”

“And you were friends after that?”

“No—Cauldron no,” Rhys says. “We hated each other, and only behaved because if one of us got into trouble or provoked the other, then neither of us ate that night. My mother started tutoring Cassian, but it wasn’t until Azriel arrived a year later that we decided to be allies.”

Cassian’s grin stretches as he reaches around Amren to clap Azriel on his shoulder. A sigh falls from the shadowsinger’s lips and I smile fondly at the two of them. “A new bastard in the camp—and an untrained shadowsinger to boot. Not to mention he couldn’t even fly thanks to—”

I clear my throat interrupting him as Mor lazily cuts in, “Stay on track, Cassian.” He looks at the both of us, the apologize clear in his eyes, but he shrugged feigning indifference to Feyre. Mor kept her eyes on Cass as I shifted mine to Azriel, noting the tense shoulders and faraway look in his eyes.

“Rhys and I made his life a living hell, shadowsinger or no. But Rhys’s mother had known Az’s mother, and took him in. As we grew older, and the other males around us did, too, we realized everyone else hated us enough that we had better odds of survival sticking together.” Cassian finishes their story and I turn to Feyre.

“Do you have any gifts? Like—them?” She jerks her chin to Azriel and Rhys.

“A volatile temper doesn’t count,” Mor says and I grin at her, sometimes I wonder if we spent too much time together. Or if it’s Cassian that’s so predictable.

“No. I don’t—not beyond a heaping pile of the killing power. Bastard-born nobody, through and through.” I lean forward at the same time as Rhys, but Cassian continues, “Even so, the other males knew that we were different. And not because we were two bastards and a half-breed. We were stronger, faster—like the Cauldron knew we’d been set apart and wanted us to find each other. Rhys’s mother saw it, too. Especially as we reached the age of maturity, and all we wanted to do was fuck and fight.” I roll my eyes at that.

“Males are horrible creatures, aren’t they?” Amren says.

“Repulsive,” Mor clicks her tongue and I laugh softly.

Cassian only shrugs. “Rhys’s power grew every day—and everyone, even the camp-lords, knew he could mist everyone if he felt like it. And the two of us… we weren’t far behind.” He taps his Siphon with a finger. “A bastard Illyrian had never received one of these. Ever. For Az and me to both be appointed them, albeit begrudgingly, had every warrior in every camp across those mountains sizing us up. Only pure-blood pricks get Siphons—born and bred for the killing power. It still keeps them up at night, puzzling over where the hell we got it from.”

I feel Feyre’s eyes slide to me, probably remembering I am pure-blooded Illyrian. Cassian notes her gazing as well and confirms her suspicions. “ This fucking priss of a lady, as Rhys said, is the only pure-blooded Illyrian out of the four of us.”

“Shouldn’t you let her tell her own story?” I raise an eyebrow at Azriel’s low voice intercepting.

“If you are wondering,” I turn to Feyre properly. “I am not one of those, born and bred for that killing power.”

“You were bred for it.” Cassian intercepts, pointing out the fault in my statement.

I hum lowly, “While that may be true, sadly, for my parents anyway, I was born female. Not the son they wanted. My father is a camp-lord,” I see Feyre mentally note the present tense. “Although I was bred to kill, he wouldn’t allow me to train. He’s very traditional in that sense.”

Feyre’s gaze moves to my wings, trying to see if I bear any clipping marks, not that she’d know what to look for. Her scrutiny makes me tuck them tighter against me, straining the muscles as usual. “I haven’t been clipped.” Her gaze snaps up again to meet mine, my face void of emotion. ‘Rhys’s mother helped me in that matter, got me the illegal herbs she used herself when she was younger, stalling my cylcle. She helped me, along with these three, get away when my first bleeding came.”

“You got away.” It’s not a question. I frown, it doesn’t feel like that.

Cassian says, “Oh, she got away, alright.” Amren shoves his broad shoulder and I’m thankful for her respect for me.

“Something like that.” I respond to Feyre. Rhys and Azriel flinch in unison, I might’ve never actually talked about it, but they know.

Feyre furrows her brows, not able to hide her curiosity as to what went down all those years ago.

I don’t answer her questioning gaze, opting to stare at Rhys instead, I do not want to get into that with her on her first day with us. No matter how open Cassian is with her.

Azriel breaks the silence, taking over another part of the story. “Over a decade later, the War came. And Rhys’s father visited our camp to see how his son had fared after twenty years.”

“My father,” Rhys says, swirling his wine, “saw that his son had not only started to rival him for power, but had allied himself with perhaps the two deadliest Illyrians in history. He got it into his head that if we were given a legion in the War, we might very well turn it against him when we returned.”

Cassian snickers. “So the prick separated us. He gave Rhys command of a legion of Illyrians who hated him for being a half-breed, and threw me into a different legion to be a common foot soldier, even when my power outranked any of the war-leaders. Az, he kept for himself as his personal shadowsinger—mostly for spying and his dirty work. Turns out he already had Lyss in his tight quarters so she didn’t pose a threat to him. We only saw each other on battlefields for the seven years the War raged. They’d send around casualty lists among the Illyrians, and I read each one, wondering if I’d see their names on it. But then Rhys was captured—”

“That is a story for another time,” Rhys says sharply, making me lift my brows. We all had our boundaries in sharing past memories. Cass might be the most open one but that doesn’t mean he’ll tell her everything, there are some things even he wouldn’t tell her upon first meeting. “Once I became High Lord, I appointed these five to my Inner Circle, and told the rest of my father’s old court that if they had a problem with my friends, they could leave. They all did. Turns out, having a half-breed High Lord was made worse by his appointment of three females and two Illyrian bastards.”

“What—what happened to them , then?”

Rhys shrugs. “The nobility of the Night Court fall into three categories: those who hated me enough that when Amarantha took over, they joined her court and later found themselves dead; those who hated me enough to try to overthrow me and faced the consequences; and those who hated me, but not enough to be stupid and have since tolerated a half-breed’s rule, especially when it so rarely interferes with their miserable lives.”

“Are they—are they the ones who live beneath the mountain?” Feyre asks.

“In the Hewn City, yes. I gave it to them, for not being fools. They’re happy to stay there, rarely leaving, ruling themselves and being as wicked as they please, for all eternity.”

“The Court of Nightmares,” Mor says as all are faces grow tight, thinking about that horrid place.

“Ans what is this court?” Feyre gestures to all of us, and the darkness clears.

It was Cassian, who answers with bright eyes, “The Court of Dreams.”

Feyre contemplates for a moment. “And you?” She says, and I know it’s directed to us females.

Amren merely says, “Rhys offered to make me his Second. No one had ever asked me before, so I said yes, to see what it might be like. I found I enjoyed it.” Always a person of little words.

Mor leans back in her seat and I focus on her. “I was a dreamer born into the Court of Nightmares,” Mor says, twisting a curl around a finger. “So I got out.” I almost scoff at the simplicity of that statement. Her escape from the Hewn City was as simple as mine from the Illyrian camp.

I take a breath, “My father was camp-lord when those three were in the camp. Cassian was a nuisance, he followed me around everywhere to annoy my father. Even as a five-year-old he knew how to get on someone’s nerves.”

Cassian’s grin only reveals truth as he takes over. “And when Rhys and Az came to the camp, they joined in.” I purse my lips at his statement. “But she had fire, handed our asses to us, multiple times. Her father might’ve not let her train, that didn’t mean she didn’t find a way to do so anyway. Slowly, the annoyance turned into acceptance that we weren’t going to leave her alone as long as it meant pissing off her father.”

“He still seethes whenever we join her in the camp.” Rhys adds.

I smirk, “He still seethes because I outrank him now.” I hold Feyre’s gaze and see she knows there’s more to the story than what we’re telling, so I give her another crumble. “I am Cassian’s Second, Colonel of the Illyrian armies.”

A/N: Let me know what you thought! Maybe any theories on how this story is going to progress? Obviously this is a romance fanfic (I'm sorry if you didn't realise that already), but I wanted to give my character some depth and not just have her exist because of her love interest. Do keep in mind this is a slow-slow-burn. It will be some time before we will be happy go lucky, not to say that there won't be any tension. Because there will be, a lot of it. If you want to be added to the taglist, please leave a comment saying so!

Taglist: @inloveallthetime @mybestfriendmademe

#acotar #acotar imagine #acomaf #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar x oc #acotar x reader #azriel #cassian #rhysand #rhys acotar #morrigan #mor acotar #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar series #cassian acotar #flight of the night

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artists-ally · 6 months

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{Train Wreck} Azriel x Cassian!Sister {Pt. 2}

Why hello there my loves!!! There was so much positive response for that first part???? I cannot believe people genuinely enjoy my writing so much it makes me feel so appreciated! Anyway, here is part two! Enjoy!! Also, I promise other parts won't be this long, I got a little carried away 😅

Part 1

Word Count: 16,171 (totally should've made this two parts but... oh well)

Warnings: Modern AU, OFC, language, hurt/comfort, angst, arrest, drinking, gambling, mentions of trauma, trauma responses, panic attacks

Summary: As Ira gets settled in, there is a constant set of eyes on her from Cassian. He offers Ira a chance to make a good impression, but is bringing his train wreck of a sister to his annual charity event a good idea?

Tagging: @blessthepizzaman @cyrygher @librafairy @needylilgal022 @thelov3lybookworm @bubybubsters

~~~~~~

It has only been two days and I already want to push Cassian off a bridge.

His rules are in-fucking-sane. He won’t let me outside before eight, and wants me to be back by ten. There is no going outside unless I clear it with him first, tell him when I get wherever I’m going, and when I get back. I mean, how ridiculous can he get?

Apparently even more.

“And I will need you to sign this.”

Cassian slid a piece of paper across from me. In addition to the other one he gave me of the drafted fucking mandate. “Is this some kind of a joke?” It was an NDA.

“We–meaning Rhys, Az, and myself– have a very strict confidentiality agreement. Not only with ourselves but with our investors, lawyers, and employees. Since you are going to be living with me for the foreseeable future, you need to be a part of that. We are going to discuss business operations when you are around and you are not allowed to repeat them to anyone. Under any circumstances.”

“And who exactly am I going to be repeating all of these things to?”

Cassian shrugs, “I don’t know, and I really don’t care. You’re gonna make new friends, Ira. And we aren’t exactly a small town rodeo here, so people will know who we are and will want to know shit. So, sign here, and then you are free to go.”

“I’m hardly free, I feel like I’m back in juvy,” I whispered that last part for only me to hear, flicking the pen across the paper. “Happy?”

“Sure, I’m happy,” he rolled his eyes. “Oh, and before I forget, you’re coming out with us tonight.”

My ears perked up at that. Cass got up and I scurried after him, the dining room chair scratching on the floor. “Really? When? And for what?”

“Every year we have a fundraiser for our community,” Cassian explains as I quicken my pace to keep up with him. Fuck him and his long ass legs. “All the money we make from the auction, poker tournament, and bingo night are collected and donated to the city.”

“Bingo, really?”

“We have to appease the older crowd somehow,” Cassian shrugged, heading down a long hallway in his house. It was a lot more compact than Rhys and Feyre’s home, but equally as flamboyant. It was smooshed in a line of townhouses somewhere in the city. Cassian opened a door to a guest bedroom and led me to a closet. “Here are some of Nesta’s old dresses. A couple of Feyre’s too, and some of Mor’s.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not but I am not built like they are, Cass. What the hell am I supposed to do with those?”

“Figure it out,” he gave me an unamused smile. “You’re crafty, I’m sure you can make something work.”

He left me in the closet and I looked around. It has been years since I’ve worn anything other than jeans and a t-shirt, let alone a dress. The closest thing was the skirt I had borrowed from Mor a few days ago.

As I rummaged through, I slowly began to realize that none of these were going to fit. I was going to have to figure something out because who knew when the next time I could go out would be. And I was not going to miss this.

There were a couple of options, and when I tried them on, either the zipper in the back wouldn’t move or the sleeves wouldn’t fit over my shoulders. Sometimes the bust was too tight, but the waist was fine, or the other way around. I ripped more than a few on accident. My best bet was to find two similar colors and try and piece them together.

I snatched two black dresses and went back to my room. I looked at the pair of scissors on my desk and at the dresses. I hoped no one would need these one day.

My cuts were average and jagged, but I had plans to pin them together with some safety pins I found in a drawer. I cut off the skirt of one of them and made a slit to the hip. When I shimmied it on, I rolled over the hem and pinned it in place, making it as even as I could. The top would be… tricky.

I didn’t have a choice but to cut off the sleeves and make it completely strapless. And I had to cut a V in it so my boobs would fit. Normally I loved them, but right now they were my mortal fucking enemy– besides the law of course. It was tight across my ribs, but at least I could breathe. There was some good boning in the bodice so at least I wouldn’t flash anyone.

Not that I would mind, I needed some action. To blow off some steam since being reinstated with Cassian.

And there was little I could do to keep my thoughts away from Azriel. About blowing off some of my steam with him. And blowing him in general.

Fuck was he hot. I mean, it seemed impossible to have such an attractive group of people all in one spot, and then there was me. I wouldn’t ever say that I was ugly, but Mor and the others? Devastatingly gorgeous.

But that’s besides the point. Azriel has been around, but really never around. He’s here in the morning when I wake up, but never comes back until late at night. Which leaves me with little to no time to admire him. I can hear him come in since his room is right next to mine, but he never acknowledges me.

Probably for the better. Or worse, I haven't decided yet.

Azriel was secluded, I could gather that much. And from what Cassian told me he was– or had been– struggling through something. But what did that have to do with me? It wasn’t like I wanted to marry the guy, I just wanted him to rail me and then I’d be good. What's so harmful about that?

But don’t even get me started on the way he acts whenever he is around me. He’s kind of a prick, always making fun of the way I’m dressed or the way I wear my hair. Always has some rude remark that makes me want to punch that perfect face of his. And kiss it.

There is definitely something seriously wrong with me and my delusional thinking but I refuse to acknowledge it because it is the only coping mechanism I have developed that doesn’t involve me in handcuffs.

Now, if Azriel wanted to put me in handcuffs then-

“Ira?” Mor called from somewhere. “Where are you?”

“My room,” I mumbled around the roll of body tape in my mouth as I tried to lay the fabric over my bits to cover me up. “God fucking dammit.”

“Uh oh, Nesta isn’t going to be happy when she sees you mangled her engagement dress.”

“Her what?” Oh no, no no no Cassian is going to end me.

Mor burst out laughing and leaned up against the wall. “I’m just fucking with you. It was one of my old college sorority dresses. It’s no big deal, I didn’t even know I had that one still.”

“Oh, well… sorry. I wouldn’t have needed to if Cassian just took me somewhere to buy a dress,” I apologized, turning in the mirror. “What do you think?” “Cassian is going to hate it,” she smirked, looking over my shoulder.

“Perfect,” a grin of my own spreading. “Please tell me there is going to be alcohol at this event?”

“There always is, but whether or not you can have any isn’t up to me,” Mor put up her palms and sat down on the vanity stool. “I think it’s a bit ridiculous, what Cass is doing.” “Thank you,” I sighed out, taping the last bit into place and stretching to make sure it wouldn’t come loose. “Not that we know each other super well, but there are reasons why he should do it. Part of me knows he’s just doing it to keep me safe, but I also know its payback from years ago.” “Can I ask about you and him or is that just not something you're willing to share?” She asked, unlike Rhys or Azriel did. That in and of itself meant more to me than anything in the world.

Mor was nice, nicer than anyone I had ever come across. It’s who I spent a good chunk of my time with when she was here and not working at Midnight’s Shadow, Azriel’s club. We had built up a little bit of a relationship in the two days since she was the only one who bothered to ask for my number.

“It’s really fucking complicated. I was about 14 when he left? I think? I don’t know, it doesn’t matter. But I heard him in his room and then he was…” I shook my head, that sting in my throat coming back like it did every time I talked about it. “It wouldn’t have bothered me so much if he had just fucking told me.”

“He didn’t even give you a heads up?” I shook my head. “What the fuck?”

I just shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m over it.” Definitely not over it. “And I don’t want anything I tell you about him to change your perception. I’m sure he’s a much different person now.” “That’s exactly it, though. He is such a family person, so to speak, that it kind of shocks me. He loves getting us together and doing card nights with movies. To hear he acted like that? For fucks sake Ira I didn’t even know you existed… It’s hard to think anything but differently about him.”

I bit back the tears. Card nights and movies? That's what we used to do together. She didn’t need to see me cry, and I didn’t want her to either. “It’s not his fault. I don’t blame him for not mentioning me. There isn’t much to talk about.”

“Why would you say that?” Mor said politely, “share what you want, I don’t want to overstep.”

I fiddled with my fingers. Playing with the devil's on my shoulders. Should I just bite the bullet and get it over with? I just sighed. “When he left I had a lot of issues. A really hard time coping with it all. I made some pretty awful decisions and ended up in a correctional facility. Not really juvy, but not really not juvy if that makes sense? I don’t know if he even knows about it at all. Nothing good happened after he left and… I don’t really know. I do, but-”

“Ira,” Mor said in a very soft tone. Like she was trying to keep from scaring a wounded kitten. “You share when you’re ready. And I will listen.”

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think clearly as tears clouded my eyes. Mor stood up and came to a halt in front of me. “You’re gonna get through this, Ira. It’s gonna fucking suck, and I don’t think you’re gonna find someone who understands that more than I do. When I was-”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Shh,” she hissed, and I sealed my lips, a smile spreading across the pressed line. “I am a one-for-one person. You give, I give. You take and I take. I know there aren’t many people in this world you trust, so let me make it a little easier for you.”

I just nodded.

“When I was younger, I also made some mistakes. Got involved with the wrong group of people and ended up paying the price. It took me years to get over and I wasn’t sure that it was ever going to get better. Or that I’d ever be able to trust people blindly again. Then I met Rhys and he lent a helping hand. And, believe it or not, your brother made a huge difference in my life.”

“You’ve gotta be joking,” I snickered. “Nope,” she shook her head. “When he’s not entangled in work he can actually be a really fucking good time.”

“That somehow doesn’t surprise me at all.”

“What I’m trying to get at is everyone here has had some shit to deal with in their life.” She took my hands in hers. “Rhys was on the verge of bankruptcy, Feyre had to drop out of art school to take care of Nyx… we’re basically a refuge for misfits. You’re gonna fit right in. Now, enough with the heart-to-heart, you and I are going to go get our nails done.”

“We are?” I couldn’t help but let a tear slip through, and I sniffled. “I have to ask Cassian.” “He is so overbearing I swear,” Mor looked to the sky and cursed. “You get out of this and I’ll go talk to him.”

“Okay,” I squeezed her hands before she left. I know I told myself to not get attached to her, but fuck was she making it hard. As much as I want to fall into her arms for telling me everything was gonna be alright, that wasn’t realistic. And she wasn’t my fucking mother, and I wasn’t five. She didn’t need to shoulder my burdens. It wasn’t her job.

She’s just being nice. She’s just being nice.

I ripped the top off my chest– quite literally– and laid it out on the bed to wear for later. After I had gotten changed, I met Mor downstairs where she was talking with Cassian. I tried to slip past them to the kitchen but-

“Ira,” Cassian shouted. Dammit. “Come here.”

“Yes, Colonel Sanders?”

“Stop calling me Colonel Sanders,” he rolled his eyes. Mor snickered and Cassian glared. “Why didn’t I know beforehand that you wanted to go out?”

“It wasn’t her idea, Cass,” Mor countered. “I told you that.” “Seriously, I had no idea until she just came up,” I tried to express it as genuinely as I could. Unfortunately, another skill I had developed was seeming extremely genuine when I couldn’t give two shits.

“You’re gonna go with her?”

“Yes, dumbass. I am the one taking her,” Mor smacked the back of his head. “We’ll be back in two hours.”

“Fine,” Cassian pinched his nose.

“On second thought, maybe three. She needs some shoes to match that… new dress.”

“Do I even want to know?” “Nope,” Mor and I said at the same time, and we bounced out of there as fast as we could before Cassian could change his mind. She walked to a shiny, obviously just washed Mercedes SL Roadster. Navy blue with light gray interiors. Convertible. H.O.T.

“Okay, this car is sick.” I was basically foaming at the mouth. “What's the top speed you’ve reached in this thing?”

“The speed limit,” she winked, but mouthed a hundred and twelve. “We have an appointment to catch, but on the way back I’ll drive the back roads and give you a taste of the wind.”

I climbed in and sank into the seat. This car was comfier than my bed. Not that that was surprising, I was basically sleeping on a cardboard box. When I asked for Cassian's room, I should’ve specified that I wanted his room at his house. Not the one he occasionally slept in. But I guess he and Nesta needed the space.

Boy were they bad at being subtle in the middle of the night.

I need to make a list of things to get and double underline earplugs.

Mor must’ve been a local celebrity with the way the salon employees greeted her and offered her a seat right away.

“Who have you brought with you?”

“This is Ira, my good friend's sister. She’s staying with us for a while and we have the charity event at the casino tonight so I thought we should make a whole day out of it,” Mor smiled, scanning the wall of nail polish.

“Oh how fun. I’m Claire, Mor’s nail tech,” the lady introduced. “Please, take a seat and let's see what we can do for you this time around.”

On the way over I had looked up some nail inspo on Pinterest. Mor told me, word for word, to ‘get whatever the fuck I wanted’ because it was her treat and she’s always wanted a little sister to spoil and pamper. I wasn’t sure how that made me feel, but I think I liked it.

I pulled up the picture on my phone: medium length but very pointy. The accent nail was matte black, the others a shiny, deep maroon that faded into black at the tips. Those also got a sparkly topcoat and some crystals on the accent nail. I had a vision to do a dark smokey-winged eyeliner look with some ombre lips to match the nails.

Very classy but a little bit of ‘fuck with me and you’ll regret it’ vibe.

I watched intently as the technician, Melinda, carefully crafts the nails. How these people did this I’ll never know. The powder seemed like a fucking struggle. She started telling me something about the liquid-to-powder-ratio and my brain left the conversation. Very underrated artists for sure.

“So, what do you want to do with your hair?” Mor asked, bending her fingers to look at the pretty coral color on her nails. They were super shiny, almost a chrome finish.

“I saw this picture of a shaggy kind of french twist? I think I could figure it out,” I shrugged, looking at my nails before sticking them under the curing lamp. “What about you?”

“I’m just gonna curl it,” she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “Oh, don’t forget to remind me about the shoes.” “No, it’s fine. I have some different options. This is more than enough.” I had seen the prices of the manicure package. It included a full manicure plus a full set of nails. And it was not cheap.

“Ira-”

“Please, Mor,” I let out a nervous laugh. I cut it off almost immediately. I cannot start doing the Dana thing. “I don’t need the shoes. This is perfect.”

She just nodded, letting it go.

Thank. God. I did not have time to get into the whole underprivileged child thing. Where it made me feel sick to my stomach to not only ask for something, but to have people offer it knowing full well that I did want it, but would deny every offer. It made me feel guilty because I should be grateful for what I do have. I didn’t need it, but I still wanted it. A feeling somewhere between pity and desperation.

I didn’t want people to feel bad for me, but I just wanted someone to care. To understand even a little bit.

Trauma was such a weird, twisted thing.

“Do you want to add the sparkly top coat or just the shiny one?” Melinda asked, twisting the two bottles in her hands.

I thought. Looked at the nails, then at the polishes. “Fuck it, let’s do the sparkly one.”

She chuckled, tapping the bottle against her palm. “It’s what I would’ve gone with too.”

“Those are literally so gorgeous,” Mor leaned over. Hers were done and she was sucking on a lollipop. “You’ve got an eye for this kind of thing, don’t you?” “Always a dreamer, never the dream,” I batted my lashes playfully, sighing as if I were in a daze. “I think I’ve always liked this kind of stuff, I’ve just never had access to it until now.”

Mor patted the top of my head before saying she was going to pay up front.

“So, Mor said that she’s good friends with your brother?”

“Mhm,” I nodded, palms instantly going a little clammy. “Yeah we recently reconnected after about six years.”

“Oh, how wonderful!”

That’s one way to put it. “Yeah, I missed him. Probably more than I ever let myself think before. I spent a lot of time being angry at him.”

“Well, my dear, it is never too late. The two of you may have been going your separate ways, but it’s never too late to turn around. It’s only too late if one of you is left standing and the other isn’t.”’

Okay, did Mor accidentally make some last minute edition to the manicure package that included an overly inspirational surprise? I was not expecting that. But now that I was thinking about it… it was like Cassian and I were standing on two opposite ends of a bridge. The constant rumble for the past lurking in the darkness below. Always there. I could see him, barely, but that everlasting presence was there; a cloud of fear and worry that we wouldn’t ever get past or differences blocked my path to him.

Why couldn’t I just forgive people? Why did I have to hold grudges and make things complicated? I was wired so differently than most people. Like here I was, with Mor at this incredible nail salon and all I could think about was how much money she was spending on me. Why couldn’t I just be excited for my first real set of nails? Or thankful that Mor never made any type of facial expression over how expensive all of this was?

Dana and Arthur always made the same face when something was expensive, and I could pick up on it after only seeing it twice. Then I subconsciously– totally consciously– made the effort to pick less expensive options.

It’s in the same category of responses when I hear them coming down the hall and I have the overwhelming feeling of needing to look busy because I simply just don’t know how to relax.

Staking on constant alert was so fucking exhausting.

By the time I snapped back into reality my nails were done and she was wiping down her station. “Thank you, Melinda. They’re beautiful,” I smiled sweetly, taking the few dollars I had shoved haphazardly into my pocket and giving them to her. “I know it’s not much but-”

“Nonsense. The gesture is much appreciated but please keep it, dear. You are welcome back here whenever you’d like. You too, Morrigan!”

“Next time I will bring some of Elain’s cookies for you!” Mor called from behind the counter. “I’ll see you soon, Claire!”

“Bye girls!”

I could not stop looking at my nails. Could not stop pressing them against my palms or trying to do things without messing them up.

“You’ll get used to it,” Mor laughed when I tried to re-tie my hair up in a ponytail.

“I’m more worried that I’m gonna stab myself. Or that I’m- fuck. I have contacts in. How the hell am I gonna get my contacts out?” I pressed the pad of my finger against the underside of my lashes and pried my eyelid up. “This is gonna end with me in the ER.”

_____

All thoughts of doing my hair went out the window. I severely overestimated how well I’d be able to function with these daggers attached to the tips of my fingers. By the time we got back it was already three o’clock. Cassian told me to be ready by four-thirty. Lovely.

I rushed a brush through my hair and took some of my moose and tried to get the mop of curls to curl. Whoever gave me this hair deserves the death penalty. Whether it came from my mom or dad, I didn’t know, but we were gonna have a problem if we ever met in person.

I eventually found a way to pin it up to where it kind of looked nice. It was as good as it was going to get. I only had forty minutes to get my makeup done and into the dress.

The tape stuck– hallelujah– and I shifted the skirt around until my leg was exposed in the slit. Again, it was as good as it was going to get. I probably would’ve been better off with the skirt and just putting on a bralette or something on top.

Oh well, it’s already on and I don’t have time to fuck around.

For once my makeup went on smoothly and looked sleek and clean. And the lips to match the nails? Nail on the fucking head with that move.

I did actually have shoes to wear and they were some nice platforms. One of the nicest things I owned. Totally didn’t steal them from a girl in high school when I crashed junior prom. To be fair she deserved it. She’s the bitch that ratted me out, it was quite literally the least I could do to fuck with her.

Again, petty crimes.

Very fucking petty.

“Ira, it’s time to go!” Cassian’s obnoxious voice boomed up the stairs.

“Jesus okay,” I shouted back, collecting my jewelry and deciding I could put it on in the car. I came clunking down the stairs and everyone was already at the door. Another thing that made me feel like I’m suffocating? Running late. And I was always running late.

All eyes were on me. Cassian looked like he wanted to suffocate and die, Nesta looking pretty indifferent. Azriel was on his phone.

“You’ve gotta be- you know what, this is my night. Just get in the car. I’m only going to say this once but Ira… please just be on your best behavior.” Cassian dragged a hand down his face, shaking his head as he looked at me.

It wasn't my intention to be a problem tonight, I didn’t want my fleeting moments of freedom to be revoked. So I complied.

Cassian looked pretty good, all things considered. He was in a tux with a bowtie, Nesta in a very elegant yet stylish slip dress. Mint green to match Cassian’s bowtie. Azriel was… Don’t look at Azriel. Do. Not. Look.

“Fine. But what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“It’s a charity event, not a strip tease,” Cassian said in pure disgust.

“Well if you had just let me out of the house to go dress shopping then I wouldn’t have had to look like this. But, need I remind you that this is my fucking body and I can do whatever the hell I want with it. Why do you care how I’m dressed?”

“Down, girl,” Azriel mumbled from behind me. I whirled around so fast and he was right fucking there already.

Did he just say ‘down girl’ like I was some fucking dog?

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” I may have been at least five inches shorter than he was, even in heels, but that was not going to stop me.

“Well I certainly wouldn’t talk to Nesta that way, she’d make me sleep outside,” He ran a hand over his cleanly shaven jaw. “And last time I checked Cassian wasn’t a girl so… I guess that leaves you.”

“Keep my name out of your fucking mouth or you’ll regret it.”

“Okay, cool it you guys,” Cassian grabbed onto my arm, but I yanked it away immediately.

“Yeah, cool it, Ira,” Azril mocked, somewhere between a laugh and a snort.

Fury blinded me and I turned around to face Cassian. “So you’re just gonna let him talk to me like that?”

Cassian just blinked at me. “You're more than capable of defending yourself, Ira. And I don’t want to get in the middle of this. Not today.”

“I think what he’s saying is that he’s not at your beck and call. More of the other way around,” Azriel said in a very condescending voice.

“Do you really want to keep pushing my buttons? Because I don’t think you do,” I took another step towards him, eyes narrow and nostrils flared. I was not about to let this self-centered son of a bitch walk all over me.

No matter how pretty he was. I had some morals. Not a lot, but some.

“And do what, hmm? Who are you gonna tattle on me to?” Another step closer.

“I think my knee between your legs would certainly leave more than a lasting impression on what I am capable of doing.” I matched his step stride for stride.

Azriel grinned. "You have no self control, you can't help but pick a fight, can you? It's like it's all you know how to do."

“Alright enough,” Cassian stepped between us, pressing his hand against Azriel’s chest. “Az?”

“Yes?” His eyes never left mine.

“Back the fuck off. Don’t ever think it’s okay to talk to my sister like that again.” Woah. Not expecting that. I’ve never seen him leer at someone like he did at Azriel. Then that gaze turned on me. “And you, what was the one thing I asked?”

I could’ve sent him through the fucking gravel. “He started it.”

“You’re bickering like third graders,” Nesta shouted over her shoulder. “Please spare the rest of the fucking neighborhood and get in the fucking car or we’re going to be late.”

“Leave each other alone. There, happy?” Cassian cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. All I could do was bite my tongue and shake my head in disbelief.

“Prick,” I held back the urge to spit at Azriel's feet. I went for the car Nesta got in, telling myself to pick and choose my battles.

“Aww, you don’t want to ride with me, princess?” He called out, and I flipped him off.

“Do not provoke her,” I heard Cassian say. “Don’t make this harder than it’s already going to be.”

What the fuck did that mean? I didn’t intentionally want to make this a rough night for him. But now? I was thinking very differently as to how this night would go.

“Ira,” Nesta turned around in the front seat while I buckled myself in. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

I just folded my arms across my chest. “Easy for you to say. I mean, how do you even stand the guy? He is such a fucking-”

“Douchebag? Oh, I’m well aware,” she chuckled. “But this is his event. His project that he spends months planning and sending out invitations for. I won’t pretend like I know what the fuck happened between the two of you, and I’m not going to ask because it’s your business and I really don’t care. But for my sake, don’t do anything stupid.”

Harsh, but I got the message. I stayed quiet as we pulled out and onto the road. The air was thick with tension and I just wanted to get out of the fucking car with both of them. Even if that meant being attached to him all night.

Despite the treacherous waters, excitement and butterflies fluttered my stomach as we hit the highway and I could see some city lights in the distance.

“Okay, a few rules,” Cassian eventually said after turning down the volume on the radio.

“Great, another leash,” I sighed.

Cassian and I met eyes in the mirror. He was really not having it. I bit my tongue.

“I’m gonna give you a chance, Ira. I don’t want to force you to my hip all night simply because I just don’t. You can be in whatever room I’m in, but wherever I go next, you have to be there. And I don’t care if you’re drinking some, but please don’t get wasted. Keep a low profile.” “Done,” I smiled, nodding along.

“I cannot believe I’m going to say this but… try to have fun? Meet some people and whatnot. Just behave. That is all I am asking.” Heavy emphasis on all.

“I will,” I nodded. I’d try anyway. But if there was going to be tequila, then well… that’s a different story.

___

We arrive and valet the car. Velaris Nights Hotel and Casino shined bright in my eyes. I looked around and Midnight’s Shadow was right across the street. Hopefully that Azzhole would stay there. I giggled, Azzhole. I’m so funny.

I walked up behind Cassian and Nesta. Apparently I wasn’t close enough with them for the security guard to think I was at their party.

“Ma’m, the event doesn't start for another hour,” he put his hand out to stop me.

“Oh, no I’m with-”

“She’s with me, Derrick. This is my sister Ira,” Cassian introduced and the guard gulped.

“Apologies, sir. A pleasure, Ira. If there is anything you need, come and find me. Sorry for the confusion.”

Okay, now that was cool as fuck. I guess that’s the kind of reaction you get when your brother operates the whole fucking thing. That kind of connection could be fun.

On the way over he told me that he, along with another one of his friends, was the pit boss. The other one– Amy or Amanda or something– was already here. Apparently they were some pretty A-list celebs around here. The party was scheduled for six and they needed to be here before the chaos started.

“Not cool enough to get in here, princess?”

My stomach rolled at the sound of his voice. “Piss off, Azzhole.”

“Azzhole, really?” His brows furrowed and a smirk spread over his full lips. “Be original, sweetheart.”

“Wanna see how original I can be?” I fell into step beside him. “How about you’re a predictable, conceited, arrogant-”

“You forgot cocky,” he butted in. “And handsome. I’m very handsome.”

“Egotistical,” I listed off. “Like I said, you’re predictable. And I wouldn’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.”

“I’d hardly call it flattering, more of a confidence booster. Three days in town and you think you have me all figured out? Care to bestow some more wisdom on me, your majesty?”

“Please, the last thing I want to do is have to hear the agitating sound of your voice for the rest of the night. Piss off, will you?” I scoffed, adjusting the choker on my neck.

“Don’t worry, princess,” Azriel bent down to talk in my ear. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. You’ll find out that I can be a lot of fun. If you ever let your guard down, we might even be able to have a good time.”

“Yeah because my brother would be so thrilled about us spending time together.”

Azriel shrugged. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

Now, I know I heard that incorrectly. But before I could open my mouth to respond, he plucked a champagne flute off a tray and raised it in the air before downing it in one go.

I finally allowed myself to look at him when he walked away. He was dressed in all black; black button up, black slacks, black dress shoes and a black belt. And a silver watch on his left wrist. In another world I might’ve thought that we looked like we could go together, but that was galaxies away. God his back and shoulders…

His ass. He was dangerous. Probably in more ways then one, and fuck did I want to find out all of them.

As I made my way over to Cassian, Mor ambushed me and had a bright smile on her face.

“Hey you,” she greeted. “Don’t you look good.”

“Thanks. I love that dress. The corset top is perfect.” It was coral colored to match her nails. The structured bodice had sheer paneling and a floor length skirt. Her blond hair was in curls and she had on some wicked eyeliner.

“It was a pain in the ass to get into. Where’s Cassian? I need to ask him if he wants me on the floor or up with Amren keeping an eye on things.”

Amren, that’s her name. The other pit boss apparently. “He’s over there talking with someone.”

Mor nodded, grabbing some champagne for me and her. “Loosen up, babe. You’re stiffer than an iron pole.”

“I’m not stiff.” I was so fucking stiff. This place was a playground for adults, and I had just turned twenty-one. My mind was running rampant with thoughts.

“Okay, you’re not stiff. And I’m ShaquilleO’Neal,” Mor teased, linking her elbow with mine.

We made our way over to Cassian and Rhys who were talking with this ginger guy. He had long, fiery red hair and a scar running the length of his face through his eye. He was also quite stunning. I don’t know what’s in the water here but I think I need some.

“Ah, this is her. Lucien, this is Cassian’s sister Ira,” Rhys extended his hand to me, gesturing like I was some higher up.

“A pleasure,” Lucien inclined his head. “I am one of the business investors for the hotel.”

“Ahh,” I said. What the fuck am I supposed to say to that? I don’t know how to talk to these people. So I just stayed quiet. Cassian’s words rattling in the back of my head: keep a low profile.

“I’m not sure that I knew you had a sister,” Lucien looked me head to toe. “I can see it, though. Same eyes, same nose.”

Here we go again.

“I’ve been getting that non-stop since I showed up here,” I scoffed. “I mean could we really look that similar?”

“Well, we are related,” Cassian laid his arm across my shoulders. “You’ve grown into it, Ira. Dana had always thought that we’d look more alike as we got older.”

“It, by no means, is meant as a shot at your beauty, Ira,” Lucien’s lip curled up. “You look lovely tonight.”

He reached for my hand and gave the back of it a kiss. If my eyes weren’t nearly falling out of my skull, I might’ve accidentally done the same to him. Thank god I did not kiss the back of his fucking hand. His massive hand, might I add.

Lucien most definitely wasn’t my type. He had his life together and looked like a good person. I was far too erratic and damaged to be of any good to him. But if he was suggesting something…

“Oh, uhh thanks.” Oh, uhh thanks? Did you just get fucking electrocuted, Ira? “I like your suit, it compliments your hair very nicely.”

That wasn’t a lie. He had on a hunter green blazer and a black vest with a black tie. There was one braid running along the side of his scalp, down the side of his face and behind his ear. The rest of it flopped over the opposite side of his head.

“I think I’m gonna like you, Ira,” Lucien smiled, pointing at me. “See, she likes my suit. Why’d you give me hell for it?”

“Because you look like a stick of celery,” Cassian was very obviously in a mood.

“I do not,” Lucien rolled his eyes. “It’s too dark of a green to be celery.”

“Potato potato,” Mor shook her head.

“Don’t be rude,” I said to Cassian. “If he’s confident wearing it, who are you to squash that for him?”

All eyes looked at me and our little circle went quiet. Welp… fuck.

“Can I get you a drink?” Lucien asked me, clearing his throat.

“Yes.” “No,” Cassian and I said together. I glared at him so hard I thought he’d burst into flames. “I’ll find you later, Lucien.”

Cock blocker.

I gave a sorrowful look at Lucien when he walked away. Cassian was still focused on me, but the second he got pulled into another conversation I winked at Lucien. He smiled back.

I looked around at the main lobby. There was a full chandelier sparkling above me, and some stone pillars going from the floor up into the ceiling. The black marble floor reflected all the lights, much the same with the counter top of the bar.

Who knew a bunch of boys could design something so intricate and delicate. They probably had to consult Mor. Or Feyre, more likely. I liked the touch of silver here and there within some of the statues and decorations. The balloon arch was a little cheesy though.

I ditched Cassian and took a lap around the room, just surveying the crowd. I could feel his eyes on me every turn I took. Whatever. I guess this would be my one shot at proving that I could behave and control my impulsions. Anything to prove his ass wrong.

The champagne was weirdly sweet and smelled like roses. But it was alcohol and I was fine with that. There was a series of tables lined up at the side, but no food or anything on them yet. I guess they’d bring it out closer to the guests arriving? I had so many questions that I wanted answers to. Mainly what the actual fuck is Cassian doing running a fucking casino?

By the time I made it back around the room, I snagged another flute off the tray of a passing by waiter and stuck the empty one in its place. This one tasted much better. Across the room my eyes landed on Azriel. He was talking with a group of people who looked mildly afraid of him.

He stuck out like a sore thumb. Everything about him screamed unapproachable. All hard lines and defined muscles. There was nothing soft about him, and I was also very very fine with that.

Everyone else was wearing full tuxedos or gowns. But he was just in a button down shirt and slacks. Which fit cruelly tight on him. Showing off a toned physique. And his amazing backside.

My finger tapped against the glass with all the thoughts I was having of him. About his hands on me and his mouth on mine. Do I have any idea as to why I’m so ready to drop to my knees for this guy, absolutely not. He would have one hell of a blow job though. It wouldn’t ever happen, mostly because I think Cassian has already snuck a camera in my room to make sure it didn’t.

Voyeur.

Mor apprached Azriel, coral gown catching the attention of several other people. She stuck herself right at his side, his arm falling across her back.

Oh, fuck.

I watched more intently than I ever had. Were they a thing and I didn’t know it? It would make a lot of fucking sense. I mean, look at them. He’s hot, she’s hot and I don’t even swing that way. I’d be an idiot to not notice and appreciate Mor’s beauty.

They looked like exact opposites, yet somehow they seemed to fit seamlessly together. Her shoulder lined up with his, her hip to his.

My heart fucking ached. For no other reason than I was jealous he was touching her and not me. It made absolutely no sense considering I wanted to burn him from the inside out. He was an ass. But if they were a thing… I can’t fuck that up. I mean, I could if I wanted to, but Mor had been nothing but nice to me.

For the second time in two days I found myself acknowledging that she was a good person. A great one. That she did not need to be involved with me and my bullshit. Azriel may have been a gigantic bitch, but I didn’t want to cut ties with Mor just because I had irrational feelings for him. That would not be fair for her. Or myself.

Am I actually talking myself out of a bad idea? Wow that’s… new. Normally I acted instantly on every idea I had. Good or bad. Since when did I debate with myself?

I washed down the feelings with the rest of the champagne and headed to the bar, perching myself on a stool while I waited for someone to show up.

Not longer than five minutes passed when I felt a presence behind me. It was Lucien.

“Hey,” I smiled, a genuine one.

“I waited until the coast was clear,” he grinned, sliding into the spot next to me.

“Cassian is just a pussy,” I rolled my eyes, finding him easily across the room. He was a head and a half taller than anyone. Lucien snorted, covering his mouth with his fist. “It’s true.”

“I don’t disagree, but he is my main business partner and I do not want to get off that list because there are dozens waiting in line to have the business that I do.”

“You said you’re an investor? What exactly does that mean?” I hoped he wasn’t about to man-splane things to me. I wasn’t a genius by any means, but I didn’t want to be talked to like a child.

“If they need money for construction, or for a new stock, that’s where I come in,” Lucien explained. “They first came to me with the outline of the business and I knew it was going to take off right away. There isn’t a whole lot in this city besides rich people and their fat pockets. What better way to bring a city to life than to build something that can bring people in.”

“So you are basically their personal bank?”

“No,” he chuckled. “Not exactly. Yes, I have the money, but it is more so my advice they come looking for the most. Sure I could write checks all day, but you can’t buy good, quality financial and business advice.” “Have you ever heard of Zoltar?” I laughed, noticing the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“If you’re referring to the genie in a plexiglass box that takes coins in exchange for fixed fortunes, then yes I have. But I don’t think he’s going to be putting me or your brother out of business any time soon.”

I nodded along, pleasantly surprised by his professionalism. He surely knew what he was talking about. Not like I could confirm if it was accurate, he could be talking straight out of his ass for all I knew.

But he didn’t make me feel like an idiot, which I was thankful for.

“What can I get for you tonight?” A bartender asked.

“Honestly, I don’t really know. Something that looks fancy but is gonna make me feel it in the morning,” I sighed, and judging by his eager nod he knew exactly what I needed.

“And for you?”

“An Old Fashioned will do, extra bitters please,” Lucien gave a polite smile; it didn’t crinkle his eyes in the way I had seen when I made him smile. Reading too much into this? Definitely. “I don’t want to seem insensitive or anything, but how old are you? I won’t tell anyone if you’re underage but I don’t want to-”

“I’m twenty-one. Just had my birthday a week ago,” I explained. “I know I look… young.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Lucines ginger brows furrowed.

I just shrugged, “It is when you constantly get treated like a baby.”

“Fair point.” Lucien swirled his thumbs around one another for a few moments, watching the bartender make our drinks. “Did you do anything fun for your birthday?”

“Probably not anything you’d consider fun.” I was certain that telling Cassian’s investor that I spent my birthday at a restaurant, pretending to be a waitress to make quick cash, was not a good idea. “It was not the twenty-first birthday I dreamed of as a kid.”

“Bummer,” Lucien frowned a little, taking a sip of his drink when he had it passed to him. “When I turned twenty-one, my brothers thought it would be a hilarious idea to call beforehand and ask the bartender to freak out on me when I walked in. He acted like he had seen me before, which he hadn’t, and was adamant that I had been in here with a fake ID. Safe to say that I nearly shit my pants.”

I laughed, squashing the immediate guilt of using a fake ID on numerous occasions. I still have a few, but there’s no point in keeping them anymore. I can get in anywhere now. Totally legally!

I said thank you to the bartender before giving my drink a taste. It was good, but I could definitely taste the headache tomorrow. Was I a stranger to drinking? Absolutely not, so hopefully this would give me some sort of buzz.

“How many brothers do you have?” My vain attempt at not asking about the scar.

“Five,” Lucien’s eyes got a little big. “All older.”

“Jesus, and I thought one was chaos. Your poor mother,” I took another sip and felt my stomach ignite with the familiar burn. “Speaking of the fucking devil…”

“Ira,” Cassian spoke in a harsh tone. His eyes narrowed on Lucien. “Come on, we’re heading over to the greeting line.”

“Okay, have fun.” This wasn’t my party, I didn’t need to stand and greet people.

“Ira,” he bared his teeth. “Lets. Go.”

“You are such a cock block, you know that?”

Lucien’s cheeks were the same shade as his hair. “Oh, Cassian I wasn’t-”

“I know you wouldn’t be that stupid,” Cassian grabbed my elbow. “This one? Now she’s a different story.”

“You think I’d fuck your business investor? Do you really think that poorly of me? No offense,” I threw over my shoulder with a wince.

He raised his hand with an understanding smile, “None taken.”

A gentleman. I think I’ll add Lucien to my internal list of people to be grateful for. And that was a very very short list. He was a great guy, just not for me.

“I wouldn’t put it entirely past you.” Fucking rude. “I’ll see you later on, Lucien. Let’s go, Ira.”

“Shackled yet again,” I sighed out, not bothering to hide my clear annoyance as I picked up my drink. A Mojito I think? “Thanks for the convo, Lucien.”

“Anytime, Ira.” He tipped his glass to me, and I did the same.

I followed behind Cassian’s massive shoulders and scowled the whole way. Why did he always have to do that? Wasn’t he the one to try to make friends in the first place?

“Can I just say that you haven’t known me for the past six years and you have no right to make judgements on my character,” I hissed, finally catching up to him. “That was a total dick move. We were just talking to each other. You’re the one who told me to have fun here.”

“And what was one of the rules I had? Wherever I go, you follow.”

What. A. Fucking. Loser.

We rounded a corner and there was a grand staircase just outside the set of glass doors. It was lined with red carpeting and velvet ropes. To my surprise, there were some photographers waiting on either side of the stairs.

“Now, stand here and smile.”

“That’s it?”

“For my sake, yes, that’s it. Don’t talk to anyone, just be quiet,” Cassian squared his shoulders as he stood next to Rhys and Feyre. Nesta was on his left, me on his right.

“Eye eye, captain buzz-kill.”

He rolled his eyes.

“You certainly do like getting under his skin,” Azriel’s voice chilled my spine.

“It's another one of my favorite hobbies,” I responded, smiling as a woman and her older husband walked by, shaking Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel’s hands.

“Along with the pick pocketing and hot-wiring?”

Just to prove how fucking capable I was, I carefully reached down, effortlessly removing his watch from his left wrist without a single hair being disturbed. I held it up in front of his face, dangling it like a carrot. His eyes widened and he looked from his empty wrist to the watch in my hand.

“A rolex? A little… basic. Certainly this one could sell for a few hundred thousand, don’t you think?”

“Give that back,” he lowered his voice, and I smirked.

“Finders keepers.” I took an obnoxious sip of my drink.

“Now.” He was so easily ruffled. I had found a weakness of his; he did not like it when I touched his stuff.

I placed the hunk of metal into his open palm and he put it on with a clenched jaw. “Insult my skills again and I’ll make sure the cash is deposited into my bank account before you even realize the watch is missing.”

“You’re quick, I’ll admit that,” he still whispered. “But we both know that you hide behind a mask to cover up the fact that you lack any level of human decency.”

Now that fucking stung. “Who the hell are you to tell me about human decency? And what the hell happened to the whole ‘we got off on the wrong foot’ shit? Your words, not mine.”

I need to stop believing that people will keep their word. I thought Cassian was genuine when he told me to have fun and make friends. Wrong. And not that I really expected Azriel to stay true to his in the first place, but he had no business making assumptions about me. Even if they were right.

The muscles in his jaw clenched as well as his fists. It was immediately wiped away as another guest approached. But when he was gone, his mouth was open again.

“Fine, you got me there. Let's be civil and have a normal conversation. Are you having a good time?”

“Do you honestly think I am?”

“I honestly don’t care,” he scoffed. So much for the effort to be civil. His eyes locked with mine when I stuck my tongue out at him. “You seriously need a lesson in etiquette.”

“And you seriously need a lesson in how to not be a douchebag,” I quipped, catching the attention of the couple that walked in front of us. I mouthed a ‘sorry’.

Azriel’s shoulders shook with a suppressed laugh. “You really don’t know how to be subtle, do you?” “It’s not exactly in my play book,” I responded, plastering a fake smile on my lips. “And for the record, I know how to have some class.”

“You sure? Because you look more like you belong across the street.” He was referring to Midnight’s Shadow. And he was not subtle about the way he looked at my outfit. As much as I didn’t want to shiver at the gaze, I couldn’t help it. It made me feel guilty, especially when I saw Mor quickly stepping into line next to Azriel on the other side.

They exchanged a quick smile and my heart froze. Why the hell was he looking at me like that and not her?

“And I do. I’m far better at drinking and dancing than I am at pretending to be interested in this fucking sleep fest.”

Azriel grumbled another laugh, his voice deep. “The festivities are actually entertaining. All the old ladies flock to the bingo room the second it’s open. And the poker tournament is always fun to watch.”

A light bulb went off in my brain. “Do you have to already be registered to play?” My devious little mind was thinking about getting in on the action.

“No, why?” He asked.

“Because I might want to join them,” I shrugged. “What else is there to do?”

“You can play poker? I’ve barely seen you able to control your hair let alone your facial expressions,” Azriel teased, gesturing to the mess at the back of my head.

“I have an amazing bluff. See? My poker face is already on, I’m standing here pretending to be nice to you when I really want to kick you to the fucking ground.”

Maybe a touch too hard. But his lips curled into a smile and I didn’t miss the way his eyes flicked to my mouth. “Such a wicked, testy thing.”

“Got a problem with that?” I tipped my glass back, finishing the crafted drink before wiping the corners of my lips, waiting for a response. Again, his eyes went to my mouth.

“Absolutely not.”

I just rolled my eyes. “You fucking wish, buddy.”

“There are plenty of things I’d wish for before you in my bed, sweetheart,” Azriel challenged, rocking slightly on his heels. “World peace, a lamborghini-”

“A lamborghini?”

“Earplugs,” He rattled off next. “Seriously, do you ever stop talking?”

“Only when I’m certain I’ve made my point.”

“Cassian, your sister won’t shut up,” Azriel whined like a toddler.

“Seriously, you’re tattling to my brother? What are you, three years old? Get a fucking life, dude.” “I’m not three, I’m just annoyed.” “Both of you, stop it. Now.” Cassian was pissed. His cheeks were a little red and his eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets. “If you don’t start behaving I’ll drag you out of here myself.”

“Yes mother.” My jaw was damn near on the floor. I wasn’t five anymore. I didn’t need to be scolded by Cassian. And especially not by Azriel who was quietly chuckling to himself. “What the fuck is your problem with me?” “I don’t have a problem with you,” Azriel shook his head. “Despite my better judgment you’re actually kind of funny. But Jesus, you need to learn how to respect people. Do you know how hard he works to put this on every year?”

I didn’t, and I didn’t care. “Why does it matter?”

“It takes months and months to coordinate. Between investors, vendors, caterers, guests… It takes a small army. And to then suddenly throw you back into the mix? Did you ever stop and think about how he might be handling all this?”

No. I hadn’t. Not for a second. I didn’t respond. I am an awful fucking person.

“Exactly. This hasn’t been the easiest transition for any of us. So do us all a favor and cut him some slack,” Azriel’s tone was a little sharp, but he wasn’t being unreasonable.

And he was right. I hadn’t thought about how any of them would adjust to me being here. Out of the blue. Just in their lives and in their business after years of not knowing that I even roamed this earth.

“It’s not fair,” I mumbled.

“What isn’t fair?” Azriel asked.

“Cassian is the one who cut me out of his life. Not the other way around. He has no reason to be pissed at me for just simply existing,” I huffed, air rushing back into my lungs.

“I think it’s a little more complex than-” “What the fuck do you know about us anyway?” I spun to face him, not giving a flying fuck about who was listening. “Cause I’m thinking it’s not much because if you knew, you’d know who I was from the beginning. So keep your speculations to yourself from now on. Got it?” To my surprise, he actually nodded, biting his lips and not looking my way again as the rest of the guests flowed in.

I was hot. Burning hot with rage and anger and hate. The fucking nerve he has to pretend he knows what happened between Cassian and I. The second Cassian said I could go, I was flying back around the corner to the bar. Thankfully, Cass didn’t try to stop me. He might’ve walked out of here with one less hand.

The two shots of tequila left a wake of burn in my esophagus and settled in my stomach. I needed food. Quick. I didn’t actually want to give myself alcohol poisoning.

There were typical fancy party snacks and shit that wasn’t going to be enough to fill me up. The place was buzzing with people and now I just wanted to leave. I was irritated and a little sweaty. Those things didn’t mix well when I got overwhelmed. And the absolute last thing I needed was to have a panic attack in a room full of people.

I feel so violated. None of what was going on here tonight was okay. There was little I could do to keep my emotions in check. This was wildly unfair. Down right cruel. Cassian didn’t own me and he sure as hell needed to get his friend under control.

I needed air. Badly.

“... I don’t know whether or not that event is going to be able to fit into our calendar. We are already booked through the end of the year and- Ira?”

“I’m just going outside for a minute,” I said quietly to Cassian. I gave him a look I hoped he would recognize from years ago. The one I always gave him when he knew I wasn’t able to breathe right for one reason or another. “Just wanted to let you know.”

He gave a nod. And that was more than enough of an understanding. I kept my head down and pressed through the crowd to a set of doors. The setting sun greeted me as the chilly september air brightened my senses again.

In for four, out for four. In for five, out for five. In for six, out for six.

One of the only memories I have of Cassian actually being helpful was when he taught me how to control my breath when I had my first panic attack. I was about six years old. Dana and Arthur were having a conversation in the other room and I overheard them.

“She doesn’t understand right from wrong,” Dana shouted. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Be patient with her, Dana,” Arthur countered. “She just found out they’re not getting adopted. She has every right to be angry and untrusting of us. It’s not her fault. She needs time to adjust to the situation.”

“Yes it is her fault! She got into her teacher's purse and stole her wallet! She pushed a kid off of platform at recess. She is out of control. Here, at school… she is gonna move on to worse shit one day.”

“Ira,” Cassian shook my shoulders. “Ira it’s okay, just breathe.”I hiccuped a sob, snot dripping down my chin. My brain and chest and lungs felt like they were on fire. I couldn’t hear or see anything clearly and all my limbs felt numb and tingly.

“Shhh, Ira it’s okay. I’m here with you. Follow me, put your hands on my chest. Feel me breathing okay? Can you follow my breathing?”

I just nodded, not able to form any words. With every rise of his chest I pulled in a shakey, nauseating breath to match his. In… and out… in… and out…

I opened my eyes and felt my control slip back into my body. The colors in the sky grounded me back to the present and I let the tingling seep from my fingers and toes. Who would’ve thought that suddenly finding yourself back in communication with the person who abandoned you would cause such an emotional roller coaster?

I did not see any of this coming. In the past two days I’ve had more anxious episodes than I have in the past two years. That’s when I got out of “not juvy” and came to live with Dana and Arthur again.

They were stronger than ever and I had no fucking idea why. That's a complete lie. Of course I knew why. I hadn’t seen Cassian for years and now I’m suddenly living with him again? What did I expect to happen? Clearly I didn’t know it would trigger a fuck ton of memories that I’d rather bury in my mind for the rest of my life. But here we are.

Here I am. Standing outside of his hotel. His hotel. Having a panic attack. God I am so fucking pathetic.

This is not the way I wanted tonight to go. If I was going to be stuck here with him for the rest of the night then I was gonna spend it on my own fucking terms. Fuck him. Fuck Cassian and his stupid rules.

With another grounding breath, I rolled back my shoulders, taking another look at the sky before opening the door. I swallowed my self pity and put my game face on. Now I’m on a fucking mission. I was here to have fun. To make friends, per Cassian’s request.

Let’s go win some fucking money.

___

Two and a half hours later I had a stack of chips around me and a royal flush between my two cards and the river. There was a crowd behind me and someone’s sunglasses rested on the bridge of my nose.

“Miss, the turn is yours. What’s your call?” The dealer asked.

I had a royal flush. He was not beating that. Just couldn’t. I smirked, pretending to peek at my cards to appear in distress. “Check.”

“Check,” the only other player said from my right.

The dealer burned and turned the last card, and another fucking hit appeared in the river. I’ve got him by the fucking balls.

“Check,” the man says again, tapping his fingers on the table relentlessly.

“All in,” I said instantly, the small crowd gasping as I pushed the dozens of chips into the center pot. Could you believe that all I had was twenty dollars to start with and now I was over two grand? It pays to be bold sometimes.

He flipped over his cards, revealing a straight flush with a smirk.

I clicked my tongue, “Damn. Thought I had that one.”

“Ha!” The man pumps his hand in the air. “Nice try, pretty girl, but I’m-”

“Sorry, is that an eight you turned over?” I asked the dealer, full well knowing that it’s a nine.

“N-no it’s a nine, ma’am,” she pushed it closer to me and I glanced at my cards.

“Oh,” I chuckled and leaned back. “Thank god, for a second I thought you beat me! But I think a royal flush beats a straight.”

Even the dealer had her mouth open. The guy to my right damn near broke the glass that was halfway to his mouth. I flipped over my cards and spread them out for all to see. Cheers erupted around me as I won the whole fucking tournament.

“Bitch,” he hurled my way, but I let it slide off me as I stuck my arms in the air, pushing the glasses down to give him a wink as he walked by.

“Congratulations, miss,” the dealer smiled. “The pot is yours to cash. And there is the bonus as well. Follow me.”

Bonus? I got a bonus for beating some old man's ass at cards? Hell fucking yeah. I was more than buzzed and I swayed when I stood up. A hand steadied me as I wobbled.

“Note to self, don’t mix tequila with champagne,” I giggled. “Thank you, Cassian.”

Cassian? Cassian. Oh SHIT. CASSIAN. Uh oh. I'm in big. Fucking. Trouble.

“I think there has been some confusion, Darla,” Cassian said to the dealer. “She was not eligible to compete in today's tournament.”

“Oh? That’s not what I was told. She signed up validly and was-” I watched her eyes dart from my face to Cassians; albeit through blurry eyes, so maybe she was looking behind me. I turned over my shoulder, asking if she wanted to talk to the people behind me. “Oh…”

“Yeah, oh,” Cassian sighed. “Not your fault. We’ll think of something to do with the earnings.”

“Those are my chips, I won them fair and square. As square as Spongebob. The one who lived in the pineapple under the sea,” I clarified in case anyone didn’t know which one I was talking about.

“Apologies, sir.”

“It’s alright,” he tugged me closer to his body and I stumbled into him. “Let’s go. You’re cut off.”

“Should’ve done that a long time ago, Cassie,” I slurred some of my words, I think. But who cared when I felt like I was walking through the clouds.

“Don’t call me that here,” Cassie grumbled, dragging me away from the table and my beer that I'd yet to finish. Of course my only logical response was to say it over and over and over again as loud as I could.

“Wait, my beer!” I cried. “Can we go back and get it?”

“No, we can’t,” he snapped. Cassian dragged me around a corner and into some room off to the side. When he shut the door, he sat me in a chair. This looked oddly like an interrogation room. Especially when he flipped on the single overhead light. He took a deep breath. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“No,” I gurgled. “I am very much in my mind. See? It’s not going anywhere, my thick skull keeps it there for me.” “Don’t play stupid, Ira. What made you think it would be a good idea to enter into the poker tournament. Or that I’d be okay with it?”

“You didn’t specify that it was off limits,” I shrugged. He didn’t and he knew it. “And the bingo was boring. They kept reading them wrong and it pissed me off. They kicked me out.”

“What?” Cassian’s eyes were comically wide. “What the fuck did you do?”

“I kept telling them they were wrong. No one else was doing it so I took it upon myself. Batman has saved Gotham once again!” Cassian actually had to restrain himself punching me. I was sure of it. He brought up his arms, but did nothing with them. He just shook his head in what seemed like disbelief. “There are very few things that make me want to drive my hand through a wall, Ira. But right now? You are at the top of the fucking list.” “Get in line,” I swayed a little in my seat. “I don’t know why your panties are all in a knot. You told me to have fun. And I was having fun. I was winning money.”

“You are unbelievable,” Cassian huffed.

I just folded my arms. A knock on the door had me groaning and I tossed my head back. “Can I go now?” “No. Who is it?”

“Me,” a voice that sounded a lot like Azriel’s said. Great. Just what I need. Him.

“Come in,” Cassian commands and the door swings in. “What?”

“Amren wants to know what's going on. She’s kind of pissed because people are not happy right now,” Azriel said, and I could feel his eyes all over me. “Don’t you look like a bottle of sunshine."

I flipped him off.

“Tell them Ira is going to donate the money to the charity,” Cassian said after a few moments of silence. When I shot my head back up, mouth open in protest, I felt like I was gonna throw up so I snapped it shut quickly.

“Okay,” Azriel shrugged as if that was easy enough.

“No,” I blurted out. “That’s not fair, I won that money. I want to decide what to do with it.”

“Well, it’s customary to donate all earned money to the charity tonight. It’s the… courteous thing to do. You should know that since you apparently know how to be classy,” Azriel’s tone was laced with venom. Little did he know I had fangs of my own.

“That’s my fucking money,” I snapped. “Who gives a shit if it’s donated to charity. It’s just a couple grand.” I watch them share a look. Blinking. Not saying any words. “What?”

“Where did you get a couple grand?” “I won it,” I shrugged, not thinking anything of it. “I had a twenty in my purse and-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Ira. Did you win it or did you steal it?”

He might as well have slapped me clean across the face. The way my heart sank in my chest… he didn’t trust me. He had not one fucking ounce of trust in me. “You’re kidding, right?”

He just gave me an unnerving look.

“You really don’t trust me, do you?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Yes,” I nodded. “That's absolutely the point. I was just trying to have fun. Like you told me to do. Not everything I’m involved with is a scam, Cassian. I can’t even believe you would think that. I didn’t even know anything about the tournament until I sat down to play.”

“You’re saying you didn’t know how much that jackpot was? Or the bonus?” “I didn’t even know there was a bonus,” I said truthfully. “How much?”

“Nothing,” Cassian dragged a hand down his face, thumbs in his eyes.

“Well, it’s certainly not nothing,” Azriel raised his eyebrows.

“How. Much.”

“Not a fucking-”

“Thirty four-thousand total,” Azriel said way to enthusiastically.

“You’re gonna donate thirty four-thousand dollars? And it’s the money that I earned? What the fuck is wrong with you? I could use that money, you know.”

“Why the fuck did you say anyhing?” Cassian was running his fingers through his unbound hair.

Azriel just shrugged, “Because I knew the look on her face would be hilarious.”

“Don’t you have better things to do? This needs to be a private conversation.” I was damn near seething now. He was not serious. He could not do something like this to me again. He’s undermining me.

“Not really, and this is really funny,” Azriel grinned, fussing with the cufflinks on his wrists.

“Why don’t you go suck face with Mor, you fucking asshole.” Woah… totally shouldn’t have said that. Even I was a little taken aback at my words.

Cassian narrowed his eyes and brows, just moving his eyes between Azriel and I.

No one moved. I’m not even sure anyone breathed. I just watched my brother and his douchebag of a friend exchange a series of looks. They made facial expressions like they were talking, but I never heard any words. Suddenly I felt a whole hell of a lot more sober.

“Good luck, princess,” Azriel said in that tone that made me want to peel the skin of his bones. Then the door clicked shut. Just Cassian and I. In an enclosed space.

“The money is going to be donated. And that is final. You’re going home. Right now. I’m done dealing with you,” Cassian’s words dig deep. I’m done dealing with you. I’m done dealing with you.

“Yeah, walk the fuck away. Just like you always do. I thought you’d change, Cass. But clearly you’re still the same coward you were six years ago. After all this time… you still don’t trust me. Still don’t trust your sister. It’s only been two days and you’re already kicking me to the curb? Some brother you are.” I was disgusted by him. Never in my life would I have though he would’ve reacted like this to seeing me again. Sure I expected him and I to have our differences. But this? This was borderline torture.

I watched his shoulders tense as he paused by the door. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t need to. I knew I hit right where I wanted to. And I hoped it fucking hurt.

___

The clang of something against iron forces my eyes open. I groan, trying to open my eyes but find that they’re crusted together. Fucking gross. I roll my head back, neck cracking with the movement.

Everything above my shoulders– including those– ached.

I practically peeled my lashes open one by one, light bright in my eyes. I blinked several times to clear the gunk and noted how dry my mouth was. Man… I should’ve drank more water.

I know I sent a neuron or two from my brain to tell my arm to move, but it didn’t. My arms didn’t move as I tried again, and then again. I sat up in a panic, taking in my surroundings as quickly as I could through the splitting headache.

Bars. Iron bars. Concrete floors, cinder block walls.

Oh shit.

“Ira Drallor?” Damn it’s been a while since anyone used my last name. A man was in front of me through the rows of bars.

“Huh?” My chest rose and fell quickly. “W-What the fuck is happening? Where am I?”

“Relax, you’re not under arrest.” Arrest… Arrest? Holy shit, I’m in a fucking jail cell. “We just needed somewhere safe to put you.”

“Put me? What do you mean put me? Where’s all my stuff? What happened?” “Calm down, someone is on their way to get you,” He held out a steady hand, unlocking the gate and stepping inside. “I’m gonna come and take off the cuffs, okay?”

I scrambled up and turned around, hearing the unmistakable sound of handcuffs unlocking. The second they fell away I grabbed them, massaging the red indentations. “What the fuck happened?”

“You were out on the street drunker than the Chicago Bulls after their NBA Championship,” he chuckled. Because I knew whatever the fuck that meant. “Someone reported you, not to get you into trouble, but because you were alone. Walking down a busy street at two AM. With one shoe. In the middle of the road. At least you still had your purse with and ID in it.”

So much for having any ounce of self preservation. Or dignity.

“Am I being charged?” I hope to god that they don’t know I have a criminal record.

“No,” he says and I deflate instantly. “But some advice? Maybe just… don’t ever do that again.”

I gave the closest thing to a smile that I could, and then he left. I looked around, then down at myself.

My feet were bare, but both of my shoes were tucked in the corner. Along with my purse. Two of my nails were gone and my hands were covered in grime. My skirt was torn and I’m sure that my face is a wreck. There is a little mirror above the toilet and I might as well have been out to sea for seven years.

My hair is a rat's nest and, to no one’s surprise, my mascara is streaked down my face. I look like I’ve been beaten half to death with my makeup everywhere.

Two things were going through my mind: what the fuck happend being the first. The second was Cassian might actually kill me.

Guilt and dread filled my stomach, pushing anything else in there to the surface and into the toilet. I gagged and hacked and coughed into it. This was definitely not my proudest moment. Vomiting in a jail cell toilet that hasn’t been cleaned in god knows when.

Just how I wanted to start my day. Or night, I had no idea what time it was. Of if it was the same day.

The guard must’ve been nearby because he brought me some water and a packet of crackers. He’ll be on that list with Lucien if I make it out of here with my head still on my body after Cassian shows up.

Fuck… what am I gonna say to Cassian? I hardly remember anything from last night– the night before?– and I don’t know the full extent of what I did. I remember the poker game and then being furious at Cassian about him making me donate all of it. Oh god… I didn’t have to get up on stage and declare that, did I? Fuck… this is gonna be a mess to clean up.

What I couldn't figure out was why I was so mad at Cassian. He probably said something stupid. He always does when he’s angry. I back-tracked through my memories. I was playing poker, then I won. I remember getting dragged into some room and Azriel was in there. No- Azriel came in later. I think?

Never drinking that much ever again.

“Well well well.”

I snapped my head up way too quickly and the light above me circled around and around. I rubbed the back of my neck, squinting until the figure came into clearer view.

That was not Cassian. And he was objectively worse.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I hissed at Azriel. I was so not in the mood to see him. Or hear him. Or smell his cologne but I guess none of that was really up to me since I was behind bars.

“I’m the one bailing you out,” he folded his arms over his chest, smiling smugly as he shook his head. “You look like a fucking disaster.”

“Gee, it’s almost like I got blackout drunk and woke up in a jail cell. What’d you expect, me to be well rested and done up like a Barbie?”

“I see your attitude is as snarky as ever. If I would’ve known you were gonna get locked up at the sight of me and Mor I would’ve done it a lot sooner. This is priceless,” Azriel made a vague gesture to me being locked up and leaned up against the wall.

Him and Mor? Oh- right. Fuck, was I that obvious about it? I really didn’t feel like bickering with him. I just wanted to go home and go to sleep. “What time is it?”

He looked at the watch I had plucked off his wrist earlier. “Almost five.”

“AM or PM?”

“AM?” He gave me a funny look. “Do you have any recollection of what happened?”

“Does it fucking look like I know what happened? No, I don’t. But can you hurry up and get me the fuck out of here?”

“Only if you say please,” Azriel smiled, his stupid, perfectly white teeth flashing.

I blinked at him. “Azriel I swear to god I will-”

“Just say please and I will get that guard over here to unlock you. The longer you let your pride win, the longer you’ll have to wait for the aspirin, Gatorade, and bacon egg and cheese bagel in the car.”

Every single remark flew out of my mind the second he said aspirin. “Azriel, please get me out of here.”

“Like you mean it,” he grinned wider if that was even possible.

I was gonna put him through a wall the second I got out of here. But I inhaled, detaching my shoulders from my ears, and swallowed. “Azriel, please. Please get me out of here…”

Something softened in his eyes as he nodded to his right. The sound of keys jingling cut through the air and the guard appeared. Thank fucking god.

“Alright, Miss Drallor, you’re free to go. Get home safe, you two,” he smiled as I walked by, and I read his name tag. Benjamin.

“Thank you Benjamin,” I smiled, arms full of my belongings. “I’ll try not to get that hammered again. Thanks for keeping me safe.”

“I had a daughter your age once. If someone did the same for her as I did for you, I’d owe them a hell of a favor. Take care, now.”

With a mutual nod, I padded over- still barefoot- to Azriel. “Can we go now?”

“Sure,” he pushed off the wall, spinning his keys around his finger, catching them in his palm.

The sun was just beginning to shed light on the horizon, a few birds chirping along with the crickets. It was cold, and my feet ached more than my fucking head. I kept my eyes on the ground, careful to not step on any sharp stones in the parking lot.

“Over here,” Azriel waved, guiding me towards a shiny black Audi R8. Jesus fuck that was a nice car. I paused a few feet from the passenger door, taking in the all black vehicle. This thing cost about seventeen times more than my life's worth. “Leave any scratches and I’ll drop you on the side of the road.”

Some part of me knew he was joking, but I took it seriously. I just wanted to get back to the house.

I carefully opened the door and set my things on the floor in front of the plush leather seat. I began to go around the hem of my skirt, taking out all of the safety pins and cupped them in my hand.

“Ira that was… I wasn’t serious.”

I just shrugged, looking at him as I sat down. “I think I’ve caused enough fucking damage for one day so I’d rather not risk it.”

The car fired up with a touch of his finger and roared to life. Before pulling away, he reached in the back and plopped a small brown bag in my lap. Did he just… he actually bought me supplies? I peaked in the bag, cheeks heating up a little with tenderness as I saw exactly what he said he had. A bottle of blue Gatorade, a thing of aspirin, and a delicious smelling sandwich.

“I uhh,” I was genuinely at a loss for words. “Thanks, Azriel.”

“Yeah, it’s not a problem. It's one thing to press buttons, but I don't kick people when they're down. Despite what you think, I am a gentleman.” Why was he being nice to me? Why were his eyes smiling like his mouth? This is weird. Everything about this is weird.

We pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the road. Lamp posts were still on, and a few deer were over on a field once we got out of the main city. There was some soft music playing on the radio as we drove back to the house.

“I’m gonna warn you, Cassian is furious.”

“Great.” What did I expect, though. I shoved the bagel into my mouth and might’ve actually moaned at how good it tasted.

“In all honesty, I think he’s more afraid than anything. You were there in the room when he left and then you were just gone. Literally no one saw you leave, how did you get out?”

“I’m Houdini,” I snorted around a mouthful. His shoulders shook with laughter. “No, I don’t know. I just… do that I guess.”

“Not the first time you’ve had to make an escape, huh?” Azriel drove with one hand on the wheel, eyes flicking over to me before they settled back on the road.

“You can just add it to the never ending list of ‘skills’ I have,” I said. Every emotion wretched through my bones. Above all was shame. “He’s gonna kill me.”

“No,” Azriel pressed his lips together. “I genuinely think he’s not gonna be as pissed as he is worried.”

“What do you mean not gonna? Does he know you found me?” He shook his head. “What- why?”

“Because it would give him time to be coherent when he sees you after what happened yesterday. I don’t think you want that, do you?” No, I abso-fucking-lutely did not want him to prepare before I could get there. I shook my head. “Then consider this a formal favor.”

“A favor?”

“Yes. I saved your ass from Cassian, now I want something in return.”

“What could I possibly have that you would want? Cause you’re sure as hell not gonna get access to my top secret box of top secret secrets.” Maybe I'm still a little drunk. We took a sharp corner and I leavened into it, head smacking into the side of the car. Yup. Definitely still drunk. “You have a box of top secret shit?” He gave me the blandest ‘I don’t believe your bullshit’ look ever.

“No, but if I did you wouldn’t get access to it,” I smiled, taking another huge bite of the sandwich. It was so fucking good. “What do you want?”

“I want to know what the fuck happened between you two.”

The fucking audacity. He had no right to ask, and he had no need to be in our business. “Sorry, that’s one of my top secret secrets. Better luck next time.”

He clicked his tongue, “Stop being such a hardass for once in your life and just answer the question. I’m not gonna tell anyone, I just want to know why you two are at each other's throats all the time.”

“It really isn’t any of your business,” I said, folding my arms over my chest.

“Well, you’re living in my house so yeah, it kind of is my business.”

Fair point.

“There really isn’t much to it. He fucking abandoned me with our foster parents. Totally left me alone with them without a fraction of an explanation or a way to find him.” Why was I telling him any of this? I didn’t fucking owe him anything. “I think the worst part about it was that I blamed myself more than anything. I’ve spent six years of my live thinking I was the one who drove him away when in reality he ditched me for fucking you and Rhys. So I apologize if I don’t welcome you with open arms, but you mean absolutely nothing to me.”

Azriel was silent. I didn’t even hear him breathe. “Ira, it wasn’t-”

“There, I said it. Are you happy now? Fucking prick,” I ground my teeth together so hard I thought they’d crack out of my jaw. Tears stung my eyes and I forced myself to look out the window so he wouldn’t see my trembling lip.

In for four, out for four…

When we pulled in the small driveway, Azriel put the car in park but made no move to get out. And neither did I.

“If it means anything, I really hope you two work your shit out. Because not only is it a pain to listen to, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen Cassian so…”

“Burdened?” I finished for him.

“No,” he gave a small chuckle. “I was gonna say challenged. He is one hell of a dedicated person. He's determined to a fault. And the way he talks about you is… he really wants to help you. He wants to be there for you now that you’re here. He just doesn't know how to yet.” “So he just sees me as something to fix? Fucking perfect.” I rolled my eyes, collecting my things and reached for the handle. It didn’t open. I clicked the lock button and it still didn’t move. When I snapped my eyes to Azriel, he had his finger on the child lock button. “Let me out of here. Right now. And I will not be saying please.”

“Here him out,” Azriel gave me a look. A pointed look. “He wants to help you, not fix you. You don’t need to be fixed, Ira. You just need to be shown some basic human kindness for once in your life.” “Because you would know anything about being treated less than royalty. Open the fucking door or I’ll show you exactly how good some of my skills are,” I threatened. I was not above breaking windows. Especially if I was practically being held hostage. He listened.

Wise move.

I marched up to the door, smoke billowing out of my ears as I tired the handle. Locked.

Having to wait for Azriel to come and unlock it was mortifying. It might even haunt me in my dreams. He strode up the sidewalk like he had all goddamn day, sliding the key into the hole and turning it.

The foyer was empty, save for the shoes haphazardly piled in the corner. Two short beeps rang though the space as the alarm system declared the door was open. The stairs were right there and it would be so easy to-

“Azriel? Did you find her? I’m about ready to call the fucking National Guard where the hell could she… Ira,” Cassian came out of nowhere and barreled into me, scooping me in his arms. I could barely breathe, and my head and neck and body throbbed.

I coughed, the air strangling out of my lungs. He was hugging me. Cassian was hugging me. He never hugged me, even as a kid. Only when I had panic attacks would he hug me.

“Fucking put me down.” I thought I was gonna be popped like a grape.

“Where the fuck have you been? Do you have any idea how fucking worried I have been? Where did you go? Why are you so… so dirty?”

I just gaped my mouth open like a fish.

“You wanna tell him or should I?” Azriel quipped from the corner.

“Pipe it, Azzhole.” I didn’t care if it was unoriginal, it was still funny. I turned back around and looked up at Cassian. For a moment I let myself believe that he was actually worried about me. “And I honestly have no idea, I can’t remember. I woke up in a prison cell.”

I watched all the color drain from his face. “P-Prison? What the fuck, Ira? You were arrested?”

“No, apparently a good samaritan saw me wandering in the middle of the street? Barefoot as well. Well, technically I had one shoe on, I have no idea how they found the other one actually-”

“You spent the night in prison?” Cassian roared, surely waking the whole fucking neighborhood. His eyes were huge and he breathed raggedly, hands smothering my shoulders.

“Chill out, I’m fine. They just kept me there to keep me safe for the night. How they got in contact with Azriel is beyond me,” I shrugged, brushing off his hands. I moved down the hall and settling into one of the kitchen chairs. Cassian stood so tensely I wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t break himself in half. “No charges.” “Thank fucking god,” he blew out a breath of air, covering his eyes with his hand. Then he glared at Azriel. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you knew she was alright? Alive even?”

Azriel just shrugged, “Because I like fucking with you.”

“This is not something you fuck around with, Az. This is my sister, she could’ve been dead for all I knew. O-Or kidnapped. How did you even know where she was?”

“I got a text from one of the bouncers that said a woman matching her description tried to break into the club,” Azriel’s gaze hardened when he looked at me. “Apparently you smashed one of the windows and took a bottle of Jack Daniels.”

My blood ran cold. Now that was a legit crime.

“So I went down the street, found your shoe, and eventually you. For the record, I was that good samaritan that called in to the station. So you’re fucking welcome for not pressing charges.” Azriel looked pissed. Rightfully so, if all that was true. All traces of that sentimental conversation, all traces of any kindness were gone.

Cassian just breathed in. Then he breathed out. A little longer inhale the next time around told me he was doing the same trick he taught me all those years ago.

I twiddled my thumbs. “Let’s get the yelling out of the way.” “I’m not gonna yell,” Cassian rubbed the looming five o’clock shadow on his jaw.

“Just get it over with. I can take it, don’t hold back,” I rested my temple on my fist, eyes taking in my dirty ass feet. I need a shower. And then a bath. And then my cardboard box of a bed.

“No,” Cassian shook his head. “I’m not gonna yell at you, Ira. I’m done yelling at you. Clearly it’s not getting anywhere so what’s the point? I just spent the past seven hours scouring the city for you because I thought you left. And I was sick to my stomach because of the last words we spoke to each other. I know I’ve been a shitty brother. A coward. But I just got you back… I don't want to lose you again.”

A rush of memories crashed into me. My very drunk words rattled around in my head. Some brother you are. They played over and over and over and-

“So you’re… not pissed?”

“Oh,” Cassian scoffed. “I’m fucking irate. But I’m just relieved that you’re alright.”

A total fucking one-eighty from a few hours ago. Huh. Weird.

“But Ira we– we have to do something because I can’t ever have that happen again. So, here’s what we’re going to do. Starting next Monday you are going to be working at the hotel for me.”

“Okay that’s… that’s fine,” I shrugged. I was totally expecting him to send me to the military. I felt like there was a catch coming.

“And every penny that you make is going towards paying Azriel back for the damages that you caused.”

There it was.

Well, it’s better than being on the street. I looked from him to Azriel. Him and that fucking smirk. “Fine.”

“Good,” Cassian blew out a long breath. “Oh, and you’ll be working for Azirel, too.”

“What?” Both of us exclaimed at the same time.

“Didn’t you say you could use an extra set of hands, Az?” There was a very obvious tone to him. He wasn’t offering my help, he was volunteering me. Involuntarily. “You can put her in charge of cleaning up in the mornings.”

“I don’t want her in my building, she wrecked it,” he spat, pacing over to us at the table. He was so tall from this angle.

“Too bad. You want the costs covered?” Cassian stuck a hand out at me, “Well there it is. It’s been a long day. Go to fucking bed, both of you. And keep your bickering to a minimum please. Nesta is still asleep.” “Good to know she cared about me enough to make an appearance,” I huffed, receiving an eye roll from Cassian. His feet sounded up the stairs and Azriel and I were left in the kitchen. Alone. Very very alone. “Look, I don’t want to do this as much as you do so why don’t we just sweep this under the rug and call it a day. Both of us know you could pay to have a window fixed by sunrise so… wave your magic wand and make it go away.”

Azriel grinned. A devilish look. A devious look. “Oh, absolutely not. You broke my window, and you’re going to come up with the money to fix it.”

Petty bitch. Only he could rival my pettiness.

“And if I have to call in reinforcements,” he pointed up, referring to Cassian. “I will.”

“Oh, because I’m so afraid of my brother? Please.”

“No,” Azriel closed the distance between us. His body heat radiated toward me, his breath fluttering some of my loose hair. “But you should be very afraid of me.”

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar #acotar fandom #azriel x oc #azriel acotar #azriel x ofc #rhys acotar #feyre acotar #mor acotar #cassian acotar #azriel fanfic

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divinemare · 3 months

Text

Legend of a Mortal Love

┊ ➶ rhys x oc

┊ ➶ part seven

part six

Ariadne had learned long ago that dreams didn’t last forever. But leaving Velaris, it was a different kind of sadness, of disappointment. She had immersed herself in a dangerous bubble of joy and normality, and now that it was all over, her reality made her fall twice as hard.

“I don’t want to do this,” Rhiannon whispered in a sob, the chains that should’ve been with her this whole time now in the female’s shaky hands.

Ariadne smiled sadly, trying hard not to let the tears fall down her own checks. It was enough with all of the ones Rhiannon and Morrigan were spilling already.

“It’s ok,” she whispered, only managing to make her voice stable that way.

Rhiannon raised her violet gaze to her, guilt and shame turning off the usual glow in the Night Court’s daughter’ eyes.

“No, no it is not,” she shook her head, shamefully lowering it to squeeze the chains so hard her knuckles turned white.

A big hand came to rest on top of the female’s small one, Rhiannon did not look up as she sobbed and let Rhysand take the chains from her. Ariadne shifted her gaze from her crying friend to the Heir’s hard expression.

Rhysand did not let a single emotion show in his face, while he gently asked for her hand.

Ariadne did not let the tears fall, did not let her head and gaze falter as she extended both her wrists to the male.

Slowly, very painfully slowly, Rhysand put on the chains on her wrists, slowly brushing the still healing skin with his calloused fingers.

A weight so big it almost broke her heart completely sank into her as soon as she heard the click of the chains closing. Yet she still didn’t looked away from Rhysand’s violet eyes. Not until Morrigan’s arms wrapped around her, almost knocking her off if it weren’t for Rhiannon’s arms that joined the hug soon after.

Both females clang to her tightly, while she could only stand there and pray all this to be over soon.

When they finally parted, Cassian came near to give her a little pat in the shoulder.

“Until next time, little bird. Don’t stop singing, I can’t wait to hear what you come up with next,” despite the tense feelings the big Illyrian male was letting out, he managed to wink an eye at her and smiled sweetly, making Ariadne smile too and nodding her head in only response.

“Do you have it with you?” Azriel asked in a low voice when he stepped over where Cassian had been.

“Yes,” Ariadne nodded again, and the male nodded back.

“Good luck, Ariadne.”

She smiled at him with gratefulness, and at last, not standing a second more inside of that house without the possibility of breaking in tears, alongside Rhysand and Rhiannon, she excited the townhouse, saying her final goodbyes not only to the people she now would never be able to get out of her head, but to the city that would haunt her dreams like a cruel reminder of the life that couldn’t possibly be hers.

༺ ♡ ༻

The melody of her lost dreams drummed in her head as she stared at the infinite night sky of the Court of Nightmares. It was the same sky that she had stared at every night in Velaris, yet it felt so painfully different that it left an aching feeling in her chest.

“Ariadne, not again, please, get back to work!” She was snapped out of her daydreaming by Tara’s whispered voice.

“Yes, sorry,” stepping away from the window, Ariadne had no other choice but to follow her friend’s orders, knowing very well that if they didn’t finished their work, it would be her fault.

Ever since she came back, it had become difficult to follow the rhythm of her life. As if she hadn’t been living it for the past 19 years.

At end of the day they hadn’t reached their mark, so it meant they wouldn’t get their ration of food. Ariadne told Tara to go to at least get some rest while she picked up everything, and while she worked alone, she had the time and space to mumble all the melodies in her head without anyone interrupting.

“I thought working hours were over,” well, almost anyone.

This time, unlike every other time, Ariadne did not jump in surprise at the velvet silky voice behind her, nor was she surprised to find the winged male once she turned around.

“It is, I just didn’t finished the mark today and so I have nothing to rush for, so I’m picking everything up while Tara went to sleep,” she explained absentmindedly without looking up at him from her work.

“The mark?” Rhysand asked with curiosity.

Right. Of course he did not knew what happened in his own Court.

“You don’t finish the mark of the day, you don’t get your night ration of food, so, here I am,” the girl sighed, and straightened her back with a soft moan when her muscles ached.

“You haven’t eaten anything since lunch?”

“Well, they didn’t serve appetizers after lunch break, so no, I haven’t.”

Normally, Rhysand would bite the inside of his mouth to stop the smile on his face at one of her impertinent comments, yet this time there was no hint of amusement in his violet eyes when Ariadne turned to look at him surprised with all the silence, something much more darker lurked in them this time.

Uncomfortable with the new tense silence, Ariadne picked up everything she had gathered from the floor and took a deep breath, anxious for getting out of there as fast as she could.

“Well, if you excuse me, I’m dead tired, I’ll go leave this and-”

“Come with me to Illyria,” he interrupted her so abruptly Ariadne had no chance to get a grasp on his words.

She was speechless for a moment, surely she had to have heard incorrectly because there was no way he had…

“What?” She questioned the male, still stunned.

“Come with me to Illyria, Ariadne, you’ll stay with me. Then we could go back to Velaris, you would be working for me and not my father.”

A sudden rush of uncontrollable anger rushed through the tip of her toes to the tip of her head. She had received tons of improper proposals from High Fae males over the years, some taken without her consideration anyway, but this… it had to be the most shameful one so far.

The equipment in her hands fell to the floor with a loud thud, and despite the heaviness in her chains, she approached Rhysand with an accusing finger pointed at him.

“Listen, you may be the High Lord’s son, Rhysand, and I may be just a slave, but what makes you think you have the right to use me like that? What makes all of you High Fae think you have the right?!”

The male took a little step back with a face so full of confusion Ariadne almost believed him.

“Ariadne, I don’t know-”

“I’m not a toy, Rhysand, I will not be your toy!” With tears burning in her eyes, she waited for the struck, the cruel words, the promises of execution, because this time she had surely, most certainly, stepped over the line as a slave.

But none of those came.

Ariadne stared at the male with her chest falling and rising with so much force it was beginning to hurt. The tears she refused to spill burned her eyes to the point she had to shut them close for a second to send them away. Then she observed with a heavy heart how Rhysand’s face did not twist in anger but in shameful realization.

“Ariadne, I-” he tried to give a step closer to her, but she immediately gave one back.

Rhysand sighed, his head dropped down for a moment and his usually lightened up eyes were so dark they almost turned black. When he looked up at her again, a softness that shook Ariadne’s heart without explanation surprised her.

“I never had the intention to… use you, Ariadne. Not once did it even crossed my head. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression, I truly, deeply am. My proposal was not for you to be my mistress in any way, I just… I wanted to do something right, Ariadne, for once in my life, I wanted to do something right.”

She was out of words, so stunned she had to remind herself more than once to breath. Now she couldn’t take her eyes off of Rhysand’s, trying to look for something that told her that he was not being truthful, but she found nothing; on the contrary, only genuine shame tainted the beautiful eyes.

It made her feel weird, like the night in the balcony of the townhouse, or the night in the opera as well. Feelings she still couldn’t recognize flooded her chest with a pressure that was avoiding air to come in.

“Just… think about it, would you? I want you to come with me because you trust me, not because you feel obligated to.”

Ariadne didn’t had the words to answer to that, so she simply stared at the male with a stunned expression.

Rhysand, after minutes in silence, sighed and lowered his head once again. When he looked back at her, his eyes were so off that it made her want to give a step closer to him to see if that way she could catch one of the tiny stars she always saw dancing in his violet gaze. But her feet stayed planted in her place, unable to move, her mouth unable to pronounce words.

He nodded then, putting his hands in the pockets of his black pants and tucking his wings tightly behind him, a movement Ariadne had noticed when he was upset or uncertain, and walked away from her without saying anything else.

She stood there for a moment longer, weighing every single word that had been said in her mind with both a racing and a troubled heart.

༺ ♡ ༻

She hadn’t had a minute of sleep last night, her head spun all night not leaving her alone for one second. Her conversation with Rhysand replaying over and over again on her mind.

How did he do it? She asked herself at least a million times. How did he managed to make her lose her balance, to surprisingly trip on everything he did and said every single time?

She stoped looking for an answer to that question once it was obvious she was getting closer to sunrise without rest than to understanding Rhysand’s mind.

But the thing that scared her the most wasn’t how much space the male took in her head, or the fact that her chest hadn’t stoped pressing her heart with enough force she had to take deep breaths. But the fact she was actually considering his offer, and worse, than a little hidden-under-lock part of her wanted to actually trust him.

Sleep deprivation must have been fucking with her head, because when she woke up, Rhysand and his proposal was everything she could think of the entire day.

She couldn’t even concentrate in her tasks, Rhiannon had noticed it immediately when they were together in the kitchen for their “secret tea spilling session”, or so the female liked to call it.

Rhiannon had asked her what was on her mind, and Ariadne had expertly lied saying she was wondering what Rita had thought about the songs Cassian had delivered for her. Rhiannon had easily bought it, and promised she would soon visit Rita to ask her personally.

Later on that day, and by a miracle achieved with a little cheating help from Rhiannon’s powers, Ariadne finished the mark of the day, and was able to eat the insipid dinner they allowed her to eat.

Sitting at the tired, drained circle of human slaves that had been lucky enough to eat that night, Ariadne was even more attentive than ever.

Despite their horrible, meaningless lives, there were whom mastered smiles to try and keep up the rest of the group’s spirits, others whose eyes were no longer alive, and who seemed rather an empty vessel than a living being. Ariadne wondered just how many time it would take her to become that way.

Then she looked at Tara, eating right beside her. The girl would never admit it, but some nights, Ariadne could hear her praying to the Mother, crying the few tears she still had left, showing anything but the rigorous seriousness she always wore with flawless pretend.

Would Ariadne be able to leave her here? They had been together since both were captured by the High Fae and brought to the Night Court as slaves, could Ariadne leave that last part of her past live behind her?

Ariadne didn’t thought she had the courage.

“Something has been troubling you, more than usual,” Tara’s soft voice spoke slightly beside her, for only Ariadne to listen.

“It’s nothing,” the brown-haired girl shook her head and looked down at her unfinished meal, the cheese and hard-stone bread staring back at her with mocking reminder of the delicious meals she’d had a taste of in Velaris.

“I’m not stupid, Ari, I know you might think I don’t notice your meetings with Lady Rhiannon in the kitchen, or worse, how the Heir always seems to appear right where you are. Or the way you’ve changed since you left the Palace with them. What happened there? Where did you even go?”

Ariadne’s mouth dried and her gut twisted at her friend’s words. She did not answer for a really long time, didn’t even look up at Tara’s eyes because she knew very well that if she did so, Tara would read the truth from her eyes.

“I see something in your eyes every time you look at him, you know?” At those words, Ariadne did look up to the red-head, confusion lacing her face.

“What do you mean?”

“Ariadne, if you don’t accept his offer, you’ll regret it. You’ll drown here, vanish to an empty void where all those dreams that keep you always staring at the stars will be lost forever.”

Ariadne’s heart raced at an unsteady pace, her throat dried again, and she had to swallow two times to get herself to speak.

“How did you-“

“Don’t let them drown you,” but Tara did not let her finish her sentence as she stood up and walked away towards the sleeping area.

Leaving Ariadne’s head spinning with something both similar to dread and hope.

༺ ♡ ༻

Three weeks had passed since her conversation with both Tara and Rhysand. The male had gone to Illyria right after, in the company of his sister and mother. So Ariadne had had time both to miss Rhiannon, and to think throughly about the Night Court’s heir proposal.

Already neck deep in work, Ariadne tried to concentrate all her energy in her tasks, if only to make her friend’s words —and Rhysand’s—, leave her alone for a moment.

“If a male, said, invited you to spend some time at Rita’s even though he had never ever done something like that before, what would you think?” Rhiannon’s voice sounded behind her, entering the kitchen.

Ariadne could not hold back the little smile at the female’s voice, they hadn’t seen each other in almost a month, and it felt good to have the only good thing in this palace for her back.

“So, Azriel finally mastered up the courage huh,” she smiled sideways to the violet eyed female, watching from the corner of her eyes how a pink flush tinted her tanned cheeks.

“Well, I don’t know, considering Cassian and Mor will be there too, and when Rhys finds out he’ll get all dramatic and say we didn’t invite and come either way, I… oh Mother, if Rhys goes, Azriel will never do anything,” the female sat at the kitchen’s table and dropped her head in her hands.

Ariadne let out a soft laugh, she had never seen someone so smitten over someone else as Rhiannon was over Azriel, and well, Ariadne couldn’t really blame her, Azriel was not only impossibly gorgeous, but with the kindness he had shown Ariadne when they met… she couldn’t help but be rooting all the way for them.

“Relax, everything will be alright, I’m sure he’s just working up his courage little by little.”

“I really fucking hope the Mother hears you.”

Ariadne laughed again and turned around with a little shake of her head while finishing the cleaning she had been doing, but when a male voice entered the kitchen, she almost hit her head with the counter on top of it.

“I knew you’d be here, snatching sweets from Pan again?” Rhysand’s amused, velvet voice rang in her ears and traveled all the way to her stomach, making her have to inhale deeper for air.

He didn’t notice she was there, she thought, since he had yet to make any comments in her direction, so she ever so slowly turned to look at the siblings, only to find out Rhysand had already spotted her and, in fact, was looking straight at her.

He only gave her a soft smile, and that was it.

“Mum’s been looking for you,” snatching the sweet Rhiannon was about to get on her mouth and eating it himself, Rhysand gained a dark look from his sister and a pinch on the arm.

The female stood up with the grace of a princess and, before leaving the kitchen, turned back to look at Ariadne to say her goodbyes with a wink and a smile. Adiadne did the same, and when Rhiannon was gone, only Rhysand and her remained looking at each other, with the sounds of the rest of the kitchen staff seeming to stay behind as they did not looked away.

“You’re back,” she managed to say, standing off the floor and wiping off her skirt, as if that would do anything to help the dirt that completely covered it.

“Only to accompany Rhi and my mother, I’ll be back to Illyria tomorrow.”

“Oh, tomorrow?…” She had breathed the question rather than spoke it, Rhysand only nodded in confirmation, putting his hands on the pockets of his pants and… tucking in his wings.

Silence settled over them either a strange feeling, Ariadne wanted to get the words off her mouth, but her lips seemed to be under a spell of utter uselessness.

“I have to go look into some affairs before parting, I’ll leave you to your work,” with a heavy sigh, as if he too had been holding his breath, Rhysand stumbled momentarily over his own steps while turning around, but tried to act as if nothing had happened to rush out of the kitchen door.

“Rhys!…and,” Ariadne called behind him, and he turned around so quickly when he heard his nickname he again almost stumbled.

But as soon as Ariadne tried to repair her slip adding the final letters of his name, she could almost swear she saw something like disappointment flicker in his violet gaze.

“I…” Now, with his striking eyes looking at her again, she had fallen silent once more.

“If you don’t accept his offer, you’ll regret it. You’ll drown here, vanish to an empty void where all those dreams that keep you always staring at the stars will be lost forever.”

Tara’s words replayed in her mind, like they had done for the last three weeks.

What else did she had, if not for dead parents and a missing, surely dead brother. There was nothing left for her there, if there had ever been something to begin with. Just then did she realized the terrifying truth of Tara’s words; slowly, that place was drowning her, as it had with every human life that had been unfortunate enough to end up there. Her dreams, everything her father had taught her, fought for, and died for, everything would eventually be lost in the sea of darkness that would sooner or later swallow her up.

So, if her fate was already so evidently clear, what could she lose?

“Okay,” was everything she could bring herself to say with a small nod, and prayed her eyes could communicate what she wanted to Rhysand. The male read it loud and clear, and, if Ariadne’s eyes did not fooled her, sucked in a breath of almost relieve. He was fighting back a smile, and had to shift the weight of his body in his legs to keep from moving too much.

“Okay,” he answered with another nod, and both said nothing after, only stared at each other with that intensity only they seemed to share.

And in those star-filled eyes, Ariadne could’ve sworn she had just sealed her fate.

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azriels-angels · 1 year

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Preview

❄Event Masterlist❄

↑𓆩♡𓆪Description: After being freed by a death god from prison in the depths of the Night Court, Y/N desperately tries going back to having normal, mundane life; before the incident. But with war knocking on her door, as well as her sister Morrigan begging for redemption and forgiveness, Y/N must decide her place in this upcoming war. Will she join those who freed her and accepted her darkness? Or will she join her sister and her mate, as well as the ones who had locked her away and condemned her in the first place? Spoilers for Crescent City: HOSAB!

A/N: This is much shorter than the upcoming parts will be, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless :)

Never in the five centuries of being locked into a coffin did Y/N ever think she would be freed from The Prison. Yet as soon as she pushed Bryce through to rift, fulfilling her side of the bargain with the Prince of Chasm, the state of her consciousness threw itself back into her original reality.

Y/N's eyes had snapped open for the fist time in five hundred centuries. The power that once strangled her unconscious had vanished. The air she now breathed was thin—clear. A stark difference from the ward that was so thick it prevented her from blinking let alone moving a single inch.

"Shouldn't we close the lid and ward that too?" Morrigan's youthful voice chirped, though her faced had contorted in nothing but rage and sorrow.

"No need," Rhysand's young, cunning smile assured his cousin. "The ward is thick enough that it will not falter against any source of magic, even my own,"

Rhysand and Mor both began to stroll of the cell, not bothering to close the gate nor lock it.

"Not without a mate's kiss."

A mate's kiss. A sick bastard Y/N's cousin was. And for her own sister to stand next to him—with him and let him lock her away for centuries made the violent rage she carried when she was seventeen return tenfold. The powers she attained after her first bled rose to the surface, itching to be let out after all those years held in captivity. She first released them on accident, without even knowing they were there. It's how she ended up in this gods-damn cell; no matter how innocent she really was.

Y/N closed her eyes before taking in a deep breath. She honed-in on each heartbeat that thrummed throughout the prison. The collective beats sounded in a beautiful rhythm into her pointed ears. She contently listened to the harmony for a few more moments, before shuttering as the sound of them bursting all at once echoed into her mind. The smell of metallic blood began to flood the entire prison. The only heart beat left was Y/N's, but she wasn't going to be staying longer anyways.

Y/N clenched her fists and toes, stretching out and testing her limbs that she hadn't used in centuries. The knee-high, black, sleeveless dress she wore was still caked in blood, as well as her face and matted, silver hair. Though a small scoff left her chapped lips as she remembered the unlocked cell door. Her cousin may be a sick bastard, but he was a stupid one as well.

Y/N's bare feet hit the cold, stone floor as she nimbly walked towards the rusty door, forcing herself get used to the use of her legs. Her heart skipped a beat as thoughts of the new life ahead of her swarmed her mind.

She would not become the monster they made her out to be. She wouldn't lose herself out of spite or anger. Y/N would still be kind and graceful as she once was. Yes, she may have just killed two thousand of her prison mates, but they were going to rot in their cells for eternity anyways. So if anything, she was doing them a favor by putting them out of their misery. Plus, she wanted to leave her cousin a nice surprise for him to cleanup later. The perfect fuck-you gift for his exquisite hospitality.

Y/N smiled to herself as she reached the doorway of her cell before winnowing out of the prison, and into a small city named Velaris.

Part 1 coming January 1st, 2023

#azriel smut #azriel x reader #azriel x mors sister!reader #acotar #acotar smut #enemies to lovers #azriel imagine #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel angst #azriel fluff

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lanitalay · 3 months

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Among Flames and Starlight Chapter 4

A/n: ok so THIS IS VERY FUN EXCITING CHAPTER FOR THIS STORY.

Warnings: slut shaming, a lil blood, beron

Word count: 3.4k

Other Chapters

His maroon sleeve brushed against her bare arm. As fast as she could, Irene clasped her hands together on her lap. Cassian grumbled, picking up his glass of wine and downing it in one gulp. He signaled for one of the servants to fill it again and asked them to “not let it get empty.” Cassian was the only one of the Night Court with her, Azriel had been instructed to accompany Victoria as she was assigned to a different table tonight and Rhysand was sitting with his mother.

“Good evening” he greeted. Gods, his voice. She had never heard him speak. Earlier he had remained silent and the group left before he had the chance to say anything. If Irene knew how melodic it was she would have lingered. Drops of blood gathered in her palms as she pierced her skin with her nails. That was a completely inappropriate thought. He was a monster. Cassian tipped the glass his way in lieu of speaking. Irene nodded in acknowledgement.

“You’re not usually this civilized soldier,” Eris remarked. Irene reached for an embellished linen napkin and wiped her hands clean. Cassian leveled a look at him that promised hurt, vengeance. “It takes all of my self control to not rip your throat out” the Illyrian replied in a steady voice.

“You’re not still upset about the ordeal with Morrigan are you? That was so long ago I’ve basically forgotten about it” Irene’s brows shot up and she looked to Cassian, who was sitting across from her. His hands balled up in fists, nostrils flaring and lips pulling back to reveal sharp canines. Before he could say-or do- anything Irene interjected.

“It’s disappointing that you are exactly what everyone says.”

Eris turned his head to fully face her but Irene did not meet his gaze, focusing on the bread in front of her. She was spreading butter on a roll as Eris responded “you speak? I thought Rhysand had you as a muted little wh-” Cassian slammed his fist on the table causing the cutlery and porcelain to rattle. “That’s enough, Eris.” Irene’s face was red. Neck, cheeks and eyes burning.

“You reek of him, you know? It 's nauseating.”

Irene turned her head and looked directly into his honeyed eyes. Shame pulsing through her veins for having admired them hours before. “Rude, vulgar, hot headed, unintelligent and weak. Wasn’t your father considering his heir might be the youngest Vanserra? What’s his name? Lucien?” She picked her glass of wine and sipped, feigning nonchalance. “I suggest you don’t burn all the bridges you have with other courts, emissary might be the only position left for you after your kid-brother ascends the throne.”

“I don’t consider an exchange with an Illyrian bastard and a half-blood concubine to be detrimental to my diplomatic relations.” Cassian picked up the sharpest knife in front of him and made to lunge forward. His raised hand was stopped by his shadow who promptly dragged him out of the hall. Irene threw her napkin on the table and followed after them.

“Cassian, you didn’t have to lose your cool like that, now Celene will hear about it and probably the High Lord and it will be a bigger mess” Irene reprimanded her friend while he watched her pace the length of the sitting room in the apartments. “He was running his mouth, Ire. He has no reason to insult you. It’s fine if it's just me, but he doesn’t even know you.” Irene squeezed between her brows, in an attempt to alleviate the tension then asked “how long is he going to be chained like that?” Cassian’s appointed babysitter had chained him to a column, instead of taking him to the dungeons, upon Irene’s insistence.

“When the High Lord orders me to free him, he will be freed.”

“Mother above,” Celene’s voice made Irene flinch. She would not want to be at the end of the glare Cassian was receiving. Beside her, Rhysand tried to suppress a shit eating grin, Azriel shook his head in disapproval and Victoria’s eyes bulged from her head.

“Explain, now” the Lady demanded.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Irene fanned her face white an artisanal fan that Victoria had insisted she pack. It was useful as they stood under the blaring sun. The new docks Tarquin had ordered were enormous. There was a ship docked at every bridge and even more littered across the turquoise bay. They were being inaugurated today. Six ships destined for each of the courts, excluding Summer, were lined up in the middle of the docks. Each High Lord stood behind their designated ship with a bottle of sparkling wine. It was a pristine day for a sail, the skies clear and a steady breeze was sweeping from the East.

Tarquin was finishing up a speech about this new chapter for the Courts and how “prosperity will reign upon the land.” Irene was sweating, the fan not doing enough. It did not help that Eris was next to her and he seemed to radiate heat. She had tried her best to move to another spot but the crowds were packed tightly on the narrow bridge to the docks. It was not meant for holding such a large group of fae, it was built so merchants could anticipate which ships were rolling in. She was biting her tongue because something told her he was doing it on purpose. Manipulating the temperature so that she’d be miserable.

Victoria had soothed her last night, saying that everyone had petty dramas with other courts “Rhys can’t stand Tamlin, he plays nice but only to keep the peace and Cassian has an enemy in probably every court.” But Irene wasn’t thrilled about having Eris for an enemy, if that’s what it was.

She counted each flap of her fan, each mast on the ships, everytime Tarquin said the word “prosperity” and she counted the seconds that passed. Even if it seemed that time had stopped in this excruciating moment.

It was indeed passing, if ever so slowly.

The six ships set off and the High Lords threw the bottles of sparkling wine until they collided on the wood, dousing the stern with the bubbly nectar. The crowd cheered and promptly left the bridge. Irene remained in her place since the person beside her refused to move. “Do you mind?” She asked him. “What’s the hurry?” Eris retorted, “can’t handle the heat?” Irene rolled her eyes and waited for the crowd to thin out before going around him and finding her friends. She walked until she reached the shade under a large tree and breathed in the summer air. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced. The salt opened her airways, it felt like breathing for the first time.

Velaris seemed cruel compared to Adriata.

Sharp, familiar talons scraped along her mental shields and Rhysand told Irene where to meet him. “There you are, darling” he smiled as she neared him. He held out his hand, Irene looked to see if anyone else was around before taking it. “You don’t have to be so paranoid, even if people found out about us it wouldn’t be a big deal.” He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You won’t get called a whore and concubine but I will, Rhys.” He stopped walking, turning to her “who said that to you?” She shook her head “I don’t feel like talking about it.” Realization flashed across his features “it was Eris, right? That’s why Cassian got locked up?”

“Can we not talk about it?” Irene pleaded.

“Why didn’t you just tell me? Why didn’t he?”

She took a deep breath. “I would have been mortified if he told your mother and your sister that Eris Vanserra said I reek of you, that I’m your plaything. So he omitted those details because it was embarrassing. Now, please let's just have a nice day at the beach.”

Rhysand relented and winnowed them the rest of the way. When Irene opened her eyes again she was in awe. They were in a small cove. It was just about the size of her bedroom in the town house. White and smooth sand, a coral reef protected the beach so there were no waves. It was a crystalline pool of pure blue. “This is where I wanted to take you, I found this beach years ago and it's always empty.”

“It's breathtaking, Rhys.” She turned and stepped on her tiptoes to kiss him. He placed his hands on her thighs, signaling for her to jump and wrap her legs around him. She did and then the kiss deepened. Her fingers ran through his hair and she pulled his face away just a bit to say “thank you for bringing me here.”

It was a scene she would have loved to freeze. To live in forever. They swam in the water, lounged on the sand, made love under the shade of a palm tree without the worry of someone seeing them. She wanted this forever.

Him, forever.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Irene stared at her reflection yet again. Tonight was the grand ball, signaling the end of the celebrations. Her gown tonight was a dark violet color, the fabric weaved with reflective fibers that made it shimmer. The fabric was silky and it cascaded around her curves beautifully. The top covered her chest and wrapped around her neck like a halter. Her back was fully exposed down to just above her underwear. Victoria insisted she put her hair up to show the dress off. So she pinned her locks into a tight bun, adorning it with a silver hair piece to match the bracelets and earrings she wore. She lined her eyes with kohl and tinted her lips in a deep berry shade.

When Rhysand saw her walking into the sitting room he knew it was over for him. He wanted to cage her against the wall and draw out all of the little noises he loved so much. Wanted to kiss every inch of her exposed skin. Wanted to see her only in the bracelets and earrings. He maintained his composure and with gritted teeth watched as she looped her arm with Azriel’s. He would be her escort tonight, since Cassian was freed from the chains but forbidden to attend the ball, or any other event. And, since Rhys would be dancing with a list of prearranged matches, all with females who could offer potentially advantageous connections.

His father had made that list and one for Victoria as well.

When the entourage entered the Grand Ballroom the party was in full swing. Dancing, drinking, eating and a fair bit of laughing transformed the marble lined room into a paradise of indulgence. Rhysand was quickly ordered to dance with a female from Winter. She was gorgeous but he could not help the way his eyes searched for Irene in the crowd. He relaxed when he saw her drinking wine and chatting with Azriel near the spread of food.

“Do you want to dance?” Azriel asked, pointing to the whirl of revelers. “I do, there’s this one dance I’m dying to do. Hopefully they play it tonight.” He takes her hand and they join in the dancing. They are two songs in when the band starts playing a familiar intro. “This is it, Az!” He grimaces “I don’t know this one.”

Irene frowns and says “oh, that’s fine, let’s just get something to drink instea-” Rhysand steps in front of them “I know this dance” and offers a hand. He knew it because she had taught him the basic movements of it on the beach. Irene beams and takes it, he swiftly leads her back to the dance floor where everyone else has positioned themselves. Right on queue the song moves into the first verse. All of the couples dance in a waltz around the room.

“You’re doing great,” Irene reassures Rhys, who is leading her carefully to not crash into anyone else. Mind to mind he says “you’re making me crazy tonight, I’ve never seen a more beautiful creature” and smiles when he notices the blush staining her cheeks. “Now you spin me and dance with the person behind you, one, two, three-” he spins her and she lands in the arms of Varian, the High Lord of Summer's cousin. “Good evening, Lady Irene.” She quirks a brow, “how do you know my name?” He spins her once but brings her back to him and answers “I sent out your invitation, upon the insistence of Victoria.” They separate but their hands remain clasped as they circle each other “oh! Thank you so much, she never mentioned who she had to bribe.” He places his hand on her waist again “it’s no problem, only next time leave Cassian at home.” Irene laughs “will do.” He spins her one more time and she reaches her final partner.

Rhysand clenched his jaw so hard he thought he might chip a tooth when he saw who Irene was dancing with.

She suppressed a groan and an insult when Eris placed his hand on her back and grabbed her right hand with his own. Stay silent. Don’t engage. Look anywhere but him. “Your lordling seems to be unhappy with your current dance partner.” Eris is smirking when she meets his gaze. “So am I.”

He spins her once, not missing a beat. “He doesn’t like to share his toys, never has.” His lips graze her ear. Irene hisses. He spins her again, but instead of having her return to face him, he presses his chest against her back in a new variation of the dance. This makes her have a clear view of Rhys and his obvious scowl. “What was your name again?”

His voice brings her back to the moment. “Irene,” she answers flatly.

“I meant your last name,” he spins her and they are face to face again. “Vallier.”

“I thought you looked familiar, I knew a Vallier during the war. Sad old male. Never understood what he was doing on a battlefield.” On instinct Irene dug her nails into Eris’ hand, deep enough to draw blood, and snapped “say one word about my father and I’ll have your head.”

He chuckles, “it’s funny that you think you have some sort of upper hand.” They separated except their hands, now smeared in blood, circling each other. “You’re an ass,” Irene spits at him. She flinches as his palm becomes scolding. Her own searing in pain. She curses loudly. Eris leads her through the final movements in a blur of precision. She centers herself to the music. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. She returns to Rhys, enraged.

“What happened?” He asked through her mind. Irene shook her head, not wanting to relive the last few moments so soon. What he said about her, about her father. It crossed a line. “Let’s just finish the dance” he nodded and continued to spin her through the final movements of the song. When it was over Rhysand held onto Irene’s right hand and inspected it. It felt rougher now, when he saw the burns on her fingers he tensed and when he saw the blood under her nails he stopped in his tracks. “He did this to you?”

“Yes, now let’s get something to drink-” before she could finish her thought he was storming through the crowd, aiming straight towards Eris. Azriel, who had been observing the whole scene, intercepted him and dragged him out of the ballroom. Irene was right behind them when Victoria saw her and began telling her about how well a member of the Winter Court dances and how he never missed a beat. Irene concluded that Azriel could handle Rhysand; she would speak with him later that night.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“I’ll kill him for this, Irene.” He said her hand in his, as he pressed a kiss to each of her scorched fingers. “It’s basically healed and I’m not a reason for another war. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

“It wasn’t a joke, his days have been numbered since he left Mor for dead.” Irene pursed her lips, “hey, tomorrow we go back home and we can forget this happened. Let’s just say that for us, the trip ended this afternoon at the beach.” She leaned in and kissed his lips, then his cheeks and then she kissed down his neck. Rhysand groaned and Irene could feel the vibrations as she continued to kiss his chest, unbuttoning his shirt along the way.

He stopped her, putting his hand on her chin and lifting her face to meet his gaze. “I swear to you, if he ever hurts you again, I will kill him.” Irene furrowed her brows as she felt a tingle along her ribs. “Why would you swear something like that?” Her heart sped up.

A bargain was not unimportant and Rhsyand had just chosen to mark both of their bodies with the promise of retribution. If he was willing to leave a mark so permanent… maybe her feelings were not as one sided as she thought. Maybe he loved her too.

“Because I can’t stand to see him getting away with hurting the people I care about.” A pang in her chest brought her back to reality. He cared about her, she adored him. It was not the same.

“Right, well, hopefully for him he never sees me again,” she forced a laugh, then a yawn. “It’s been a long day, Rhys, I should get some sleep.” He nodded, stood from her bed and left with a kiss goodnight.

Irene finished packing the trunks she had barely riffled through and went to the apartment dining room for breakfast. She was the last one to sit down, everyone else was already halfway done with their food. “Good morning,” she greeted. While it was thrilling to be out of Velaris for the first time, she missed her home dearly. She missed the stables, the horses, the libraries, the priestesses, the dance lessons, her room... She did not miss the biting cold however, and would be sad to say goodbye to the warm weather. Even if she did not enjoy sweating, it was better than being halfway frozen anytime she stepped outside.

The table grumbled a collective “morning.” Irene made herself a plate and sat down. She stiffened when the High Lord walked in, he did not usually join them for meals. “Vallier,” he said her name in a way that made her cringe. “Yes, sir?”

He remained standing. “Are you ready to go?” She scrunched her brows and answered “I just finished packing everything.”

“Very well, take her away.” Irene’s eyes bulged as two guards dressed in orange and green uniforms rushed into the dining room.

“What is going on?” Celene asked, standing from her chair. The High Lord motioned with his hand for the guards to go on. They grabbed each of Irene’s arms, yanking her from her seat. “Beron has been pestering me about a bride ever since Morrigan soiled herself. So I’m getting him-” he pointed to Irene now “and her off my back.”

“What?” This time it was Victoria, “you can’t just sell her off. It 's not right-” He silenced her with a snap of his fingers and she scratched against her throat as she attempted to fight back, but her powers were no match against a High Lord’s.

Rhysand and his mother shared a look “she’s a member of this court-” but then he was silenced too. “She is not a member of the court, she is property of it and I have determined this is the best use of her.”

Celene asked, “Who is her betrothed?”

“I believe it is the oldest Vanserra.”

Irene had no words. None. Nothing she could say to stop it from happening. Nothing she could say to encapsulate the way her heart had sunk to her stomach. How Cassian and Azriel had paled. How Victoria’s eyes were red and watery as she watched Irene be dragged from the table. How Rhysand seemed to be paralyzed, only his erratic blinking an indication of distress.

She remained silent all the way from the apartments to the landing balcony, where nine fae, all with red hair, were waiting.

Waiting for her.

Beron looked her up and down, assessing.

“She’ll do,” he said. Eris strode over to her and grabbed her arm with a too warm hand. She made to pull away, to run and scream for help. But his grasp was firm.

Before she could shout they were already in Autumn.

taglist: @sidthedollface2 @acourtofbatboydreams

#acomaf #acowar #acotar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #acosf #azriel shadowsinger #rhysand #lucien vanserra #eris x oc #eris vanserra #eris acotar #mor #cassian acotar #cassian #night court #azriel acotar #azriel #summer court

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nubimera · 10 months

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Ok guys, I love all spider/dead pool/black cat-sona but

BUT

Let's consider MJ-sona for a moment, PLEASE

#mj-sona nation rise up #I've entered a black hole where I'm constantly creating variants of MJ for every universe #MJ 42 and MJ 2099 my beloveds #atsv #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spider verse spoilers #miles molares #gwen stacy #peter b parker #peter parker #miguel o'hara #hobie brown #spiderverse pavitr #spidersona #mor #atsv oc #miguel o'hara x reader

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nova-stardragon · 1 year

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Chapter 11 of If Only You Knew was just posted on AO3! It may or may not be a smutty one (it defo is a smutty one lol)

Check out below the cut for a snippet <3

I didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved when Mor left me alone.

She had shown me into her apartment, which was on the second floor of a small building. The apartments were large, with each one taking up the entire floor. Her apartment was decorated as what I could only describe as perfect for her. The walls were painted a soft lavender color, the curtains a deeper purple with dark red whorls on them. The couch was a deep purple suede, with numerous colorful throw pillows and incredibly soft looking blankets scattered across it. I simultaneously was afraid to touch anything for fear of messing it up and wanted to touch everything just to experience all that was Mor.

After showing me around, she had led me to her guest bedroom. She had shown me where I could put my stuff, before realizing that I… had no stuff.

She had then taken my room key, and set off to go get my stuff.

And now I was alone, in a beautiful female’s apartment (sans beautiful female) wondering what the hell I had just done.

#acotar fanfics #morrigan #mor x oc #acotar smut #acotar

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foxglovebells · 1 year

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Lost Star

Azriel x Rhysand!Sister Reader

Summary: Rhys’s mother and sister, Y/n, were kidnapped and murdered by Tamlin’s family centuries ago. Everyone mourned their deaths but especially Azriel. His mate’s death had changed him and he was never truly the same, he still held onto the hope that you were still alive. Turns out he was right.

Warnings: Slight mentions of torture/blood/violence

Notes: This doesn’t follow the plot of Acotar exactly, many small details are also changed. This will be the part 1 of I don’t know how long of a series yet. Ignore any typos 😬 Enjoy:)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

****************************************************

Azriel had seen and experienced a lot of violence in his life. He had felt so much pain and suffering. His wings had been shredded on multiple occasions. He had been held in a dungeon and tortured for days. He had come to deaths door step more times than he can count.

But nothing, nothing, compared to the pain of feeling his mating bond with you break. The pain of his heart collapsing as yours stopped beating. The feeling of his soul shredding and his humanity being ripped away from him. You were his everything, and you been taken from him.

Your death was the first time he had cried in centuries. Azriel and Rhys cried together, for the loss of the person they both loved the most in this world. Your beautiful soul too pure for this corrupt world.

Since that day Azriel has been in denial. He felt the bond break, he felt you die. But somehow he still felt a whisper, a small shadow of the bond still remained. The beautiful golden string gone, but as if it still lingered. Perhaps it was his minds way of coping, of giving him hope that you were still out there.

When he has told Rhys of this, he had shut him down. “You’re in denial, brother, I know it’s difficult to process, but we both felt her die, we both felt her heart stop. She’s gone.” Rhys wrapped Azriel in his arms as he cried again, and again, and one day he just stopped. Stopped feeling.

Over the decade he’s started to heal, he’s started to let himself live again, rather than burying himself in him work. But even as he did begin to heal, the whisper of your bond still never went away. His shadows were always restless when he thought of you. It was as if they were telling him that something wasn’t as it seemed. Azriel ignored them though, they mourned the loss of the bond just as much as he did.

****

The first time Azriel met Feyre and had heard that she was Tamlin’s bride he wanted to throw up. How could someone love the monster that took away his soul.

But Rhys had told him of their mating bond, and Azriel was happy for him, he was happy that Rhys would finally get to experience the greatest joy in the world. If he couldn’t be happy, he was glad that at least his brother could be.

****

“Rhys?” Feyre asked one day while they were in bed.

“Yes, darling.” He unconsciously stroked her hair.

“Who is the girl in the picture?” She asked gently while staring at the painting he had of his family hanging above the mantle. It was a painting from before he had started his high lord duties. He was still young in that picture, maybe around 16. Your mother stood behind him from where he sat on a stool, one hand was on one shoulder and the other was placed atop his father’s hand on the other. His father was standing as well, he had you propped up on one of his hips as you laid your head on his shoulder with an innocent smile. Your hair was long and black and your eyes were the same violet as Rhys’s.

He froze, his hand stilled over Feyre hair as he decided how to approach the topic. His hesitance caused Feyre to quickly tell him, “You don’t have to talk about it, I’m sorry for asking.”

“No, darling, that’s all right.” He took a deep breath. “That’s my younger sister, Y/n, Tamlin’s father murdered her and my mother a long time ago.”

“You said your father was a cruel man, he looks so happy in that.”

“He had a soft spot for Y/n, she was a daddy’s girl and could do no wrong.” He smiled fondly at the memory. “Whenever my dad was in one of his nasty moods or would push me too hard, all Y/n has to do was flash her innocent little smile at him and he would drop everything for her. I was envious of her at times, but also thankful.”

“I wish I could’ve met her.” Feyre says and looks into his eyes. She sends love and adoration down the bond and he kisses her gently in response.

“Her death hit Azriel harder than anyone.” Rhys continued.

“Harder than even you?”

Rhys nodded his head solemnly, “They were mated.”

Feyre pulls away and gasps. “They were.” Her eyes full with empathetic tears for Azriel. She knew first hand exactly what it felt like to feel the break of a mating bond. Luckily, she didn’t have to deal with it for a centuries. She couldn’t even imagine how Azriel felt, how he still feels.

“Is that why he’s so closed off.” Feyre asks as she settles back into Rhys.

“Partially, a little bit it just because that’s how he is, but it’s mostly because of her death.” He tries not to think to much about her death because it still brings him so much pain. “Feyre, Darling.”

“Yes?”

“Why did you ask now? You’ve seen that painting so many times.” Rhys asks curiously while looking at her.

“If I had known I would tell you sooner.” Feyre starts.

“Tell me what?”

“She used to appear in my dreams every night when I was in spring. I didn’t even realize it was the same girl until a couple days ago.” Feyre tells him.

“Your dreams? Will you let me see.” Rhys asks, a little bit unsure. Feyre nods and closes her eyes, trying to conjure a memory of one of the dreams.

Feyre was walking through the halls, the image hazy because it was a dream. Everything was silent except for the a banging coming from the floor.

“Help me” it was quiet the first time.

“Help me” it was louder now.

“Help me” louder, urgent.

“Help, help, help.” Pleading, begging, crying.

And then you appeared like a ghost. Your dress was bloody and ripped, the same one you’d been wearing the day you were killed. Your hair was in a matted braid and your eyes were dull and bloodshot. You were bony and deathly looking, your cheek bones were too sharp and you’re eyes too sunken.

“Help me, I’m in the—“

And then it was over, Feyre had woken up.

When Feyre opened her eyes she hadn’t expected to see tears cascading down Rhys’s face. “Oh baby, I’m sorry.”

“Feyre, this is going to sound crazy, but I think that she’s alive.” Rhys looks into her eyes and she wipes away her tears.

“I believe you.”

“I need to talk to Azriel.” He sits up and looks at her apologetically.

“Of course you do. I wouldn’t expect anything else.” He graciously pressed a kiss to her mouth before pulling on pants and rushing out of the room.

Cass, Az, Mor, Amren, office now. It’s urgent.

Rhys waits restlessly in his office leaning over a floorpan map of the spring court manor. Azriel and Cassian walk in together, both sweaty and dirty from training. Mor and Amren follow second later.

“What so urgent?” Amren breaks the silence as everyone waits for Rhys to start talking.

He doesn’t respond just yet. He just raised his head and looks directly at Azriel. Everyone can see his red rimmed eyes, proof that he had been crying.

“Rhys what’s going on.” Cassian tries to push again.

“Az,” Rhys starts lowly. Azriel look confused but there’s something it the back of his head telling him that he’s about it say something about you. “I think,” a deep breath, “I think that Y/n is alive.”

Sharp intakes of breaths are heard from each one of them. “That’s as awfully big assumption Rhys.” Cassian is the first to speak.

Rhys’s eyes are still locked on Azriel who is frozen in place, he might not be breathing. “Let me show you guys.” And so he does, Rhysand replays Feyre’s dream for all of them, holding back tears as he rewatches your face contorted with pain.

When it’s over Azriel stumbles as he falls into the nearest chair, his fingers press against his eyes as to stop to flow of tears. “I knew it,” Azriel breathes out, “I knew it and you told me I was in denial!” Azriel points an accusatory finger towards Rhys.

“Calm down, Azriel, this is just as hard for me as it is for you.” Azriel knows this, but after all the pain he’s suffered thinking you were dead has caused him to act irrationally.

“We’re going to get her, right?” Mor asks, stepping forwards to look at the map that Rhys was leaned over. “Would she be in the dungeons?”

“No.” Azriel said simply. “I’ve scoured every inch of those dungeons repeatedly with my shadows, she’s not in there.”

“Wha about if we went even lower.” Amren suggests, “Some High lords had magic shelters built even further beneath the dungeons. During the first war when none of you were alive yet, there were metals that stopped the frequency of magic. If you combine that metal with a low altitude, magic may be almost, if not completely blocked off.”

“Holy shit, Amren, I think you’re right.” Mor adds, “Gwyn was telling me of this old text in the library about ancient materials. There was a metal that blocked all physical magic and the only loophole is spiritual magic at short distances; which was probably how Y/n was able to appear in Feyre’s Dreams.”

Amren looked to Azriel, “It blocks bonds to, makes it appear as if it’s broken. That’s why you and Rhys thought you felt her die.”

“Oh, cauldron.” Cassian mutters in astonishment.

“How do we find out where it is? Everytime my shadows were down there they didn’t sense any other door.” Azriel a tried to think of any possibility that he missed something, but he couldn’t come up with any.

“Maybe the magic blocked your shadows too.” Cassian added, “if it blocks everything else there’s no reason it wouldn’t block magic shadow.”

“We have to get down there and look with our eyes, no magic will find it, that was the original purpose of why this metal was used to build rooms, it’s magically untraceable.” Amren informs.

“So we have to get Azriel in there.” Rhys says, “the next high lord conference is at the end of the week. Tamlin will be away long enough for Az to sneak in a look for any door in the dungeon.”

“What of his borders though? He’ll know when someone enters them.” Azriel tells Rhys.

“I’ll get into his head and block his conscience.”

“I don’t know if I can wait 4 days until then, Rhys.” Azriel looks at him with so much sadness in his eyes.

“I know, Az, but it’s our best shot at getting her home to us.” Rhys walks over and places a reassuring hand his shoulder.

He could do this, he waited 2 centuries already, what’s 4 more days?

#azriel #azriel x reader #acotar #cassian #rhysand #Feyre #Mor #amren #azriel x female!reader #azriel x oc #azriel x you #rhysand sister #night court #foxglovebells

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ladyoftearshed · 1 month

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A Court of Sins and Nightmares

Chapter 2

Eris Vanserra x OC! Alessia Mors

Summary: Conditions of the arranged wedding are being discussed and negociated... Eris is learning a bit more about this mysterious Alessia Mors...

Word count: 4,874

Warnings: Violence. Someeee slight swearing... Nothing too dramatic. Bugs.

Eris had been staring at the woman sitting across from him for much longer than necessary. Her face was completely unreadable. However, he felt that her eyes were cold, carefully lurking him, a distant flame seemed to flicker in the brown depths of them. Her emotions were kept at bay behind that fake smile of hers… Her chin tilted up, her milky skin perfectly smooth. Everything about that woman seemed meticulously calculated. Her attitude, her posture, her words, her look… Not an inch of her dress was wrinkled, and not a strand of hair was out of place.

Alessia Mors… Thanatos Mors daughter… Eris did not recall noticing her presence at any ball or meeting. He barely recalled hearing anything about her. It was known that Thanatos had a daughter, but he never heard anyone mentioning anything about her. A breath catches in his throat when her icy brown eyes trail down his body. Her eyes were scanning him as if she could see through his clothes, deeper even, through his soul. Her eyes landed on the small inch of exposed skin at the bottom of his loose shirt. The prince of Autumn quickly shot her a smirk, trying to hide his discomfort by acting flirty. Maybe she was just enjoying the view, he thought. He winked discreetly at her, trying to make it clear that he caught her in her not-so-discreet ogling. He then straightened his back, tugging at the hem of his shirt to hide the exposed skin. He moved his arm off from behind his neck, taking a more formal posture. He rests his hands on the table, her eyes not leaving him once, analyzing every inch of movement the man did.

Keir, finally bothered to notice his niece's presence, looks up from the wine he was swirling in his glass and proceeds to make brief, almost bored, presentations. Thanatos was staying cold and quiet in his seat. “Ah, sorry for my delay. The servants made sure I looked flawless for our… guest. It’s an honor to meet you, Vanserra.” Alessia says, looking at Eris up and down before bringing her glass to her lips. Even when she drank, her eyes didn’t give Eris a break from intensely staring at him. The hair at the back of his neck straightens at the sight of this impressively beautiful and yet menacing woman talking to him.

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Alessia Mors.” She only smiled politely, although he could sense something was off with that smile of hers… or maybe it just was that dark red lipstick she wore. Eris thought it gave her an even more intimidating look. Keir’s servant served them food. As the delightful smells of Night Court’s cuisine invaded Eris’s nostrils, he realized how much he had neglected his meals lately. He had been either too stressed, or too busy to take the time to sit down and fuel his Fae body with food. Not that it was absolutely necessary for a Fae to eat.

Their eyes met a few times during dinner, both of them averting their eyes rather quickly. The looks Alessia shot Eris behind her eyelashes were making him want to sink and melt into his chair. He felt awfully small by the way she looked, and the glances she gave him too. She glanced at him as if she knew about something he didn’t, which greatly pissed off the Heir of Autumn. He knew that Keir was beating around the bush, that his sudden request wasn’t just about having dinner. Thanatos and his daughter joining them for dinner made it even more suspicious.

He thought it was rather weird actually that very few people knew about Alexia Mors, unless it was that she is Thanatos’s daughter. Her powers were never mentioned in any records or parchments. The identity of her mother was unknown to the world too. It was as if this girl had just erupted from the Cauldron on a random day, without anyone being aware of it.

Keir was almost purring in his chair, pleased that the tranquilizer serum he made her niece swallow seemed to be working. Alessia wasn't acting bitchy, nor throwing a tantrum, which he guessed meant that the serum had been effective. Thanatos’s fists are tightly scrunched under the table, as if her daughter, sitting beside him, was a pile of dynamite that could explode at any given opportunity. Keir leans to the center of the table to pour more wine into his glass. Eris does the same, he feels like more wine is necessary after his long, exhausting day. At least the previous meeting with Rhysand brought good news for him, as the High Lord of the Night Court had sworn his support if Eris was to kill Beron. Although, the High Lord had made it clear that he would not help him eliminate Beron, only support him afterward. Rhysand’s support was only conditional to the Autumn Court's alliance with the Night Court against Hybern.

Eris lowered his eyes to his meal, slowly swallowing down every bite of his meal. Mushroom pie was on tonight’s menu. The residents of Hewn City had limited resources when it came to nutrition, due to the lack of daylight filtering through the mountain's rocky walls. So it was no surprise that mushrooms, which needed few resources to grow except the favorable humidity from the mountain, were used for cooking this meal. Keir’s voice broke the uncomfortable silence the group had settled in, his voice feeling like a grate in Eris’s drums. “It was quite a pleasant meeting… the one with Rhysand earlier.” Keir quips, his tone sounding everything but “pleased” from that meeting… Eris pretends not to notice, his head tilting to the side his usual mask of carelessness plastered on his face. “Yeah, it was, indeed. If I’m not mistaken, you got everything you asked for.” He answers the Lord, grinning wryly, pretending to be happy for the asshole when in reality, he couldn’t care less that the Court of Nightmares could now have access to Velaris.

“Well… Technically yes, but…” Lord Keir sighed, his finger tapping on the side of his golden glass, trying to show his annoyance. Eris raised his right brow, acting concerned for his newly called ally. He took the time to drink a long gulp of his wine, then proceeded to investigate the man’s concern. He pressed. “But..?” Eris had enough of all the meetings, a meeting with Rhysand and then one with Keir was pure torture. He was starting to wonder if the Mother had wanted to punish him for something he might’ve done. Especially with Alessia’s eyes scanning him as if he was the ugliest and cruelest creature that lived on Prythian. “But..?” Eris managed to retort, trying his damndest to not exhale from exasperation.

Thanatos didn’t let Keir answer again, his power seemed to course through his body, his fingers running through his blond locks, as if trying to keep his cool to prevent exploding from Keir's annoying way of speaking. He cuts Keir off, not even giving him the chance to open his annoying mouth. “We have no certainty that the Autumn Court will truly rekindle their alliances with us.” He growled, his deep shade of copper eyes gleaming with rising fury and annoyance. Thanatos had enough and probably wanted this dinner with Keir over as much as Eris craved it. Although, Alessia’s eyes didn’t reflect anything, except the icy cold held within them. Maybe it was only her natural look, Eris thought. Maybe she didn’t really despise him after all, and she was just eyeing him out, who knows. He tried to convince himself that maybe that was it, that she didn’t really want to suck his soul with her piercing stare. Eris looked away, once again, from Alessia’s intense glance. Cauldron… her eyes were beautiful. Eris couldn’t help to mentally note that totally random and inappropriate fact, and focused back on Thanatos. The blond Lord crossed his arms on his chest, waiting for any convincing argument the heir of Autumn could make.

Eris frowned, crossing his legs under the table and leaning his back deeper against the chair, a pure look of utter control and indifference, as he had been taught to act during negotiations or any kind of argument. The posture of a future High Lord, of someone in control, someone powerful. He had been taught by his professor, not his father, of course. His old man was too busy to fuck around or throw the Court’s money by the window. “I told you. My father is willing to ally with the Night Court and its legion against Hybern. Rhysand also gave you access to Velaris as a-” “Rhysand gave me limited access to Velaris. But you… Nothing really convinces me that your father will truly respect his part of the contract and rekindle our alliance… For good.” Keir cuts him off. The Lord of Hewn City’s worries were valid, indeed, because nothing truly assured Keri that their alliance would stay even after defeating Hybern. Beron was a cruel, wicked High Lord. Keir had reasons to take some precautions and ask for guarantees. Eris’s blood starts boiling in his veins, he crosses his fingers under the table, discreetly trying to calm the licks of flames dancing on his fingers. There wasn’t anything he hated more than to be cut off while speaking.

Once his power cooled down slightly, as he tried to discreetly take deep breaths to calm his anger, he uncrossed his finger to lift them up to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Of course, Keir would’ve found a way to ask for something more. It’s Keir, it’s who he is. A greedy, ungrateful coward Fae male. “What do you want… Keir.” Eris almost growled out, the need to bare his teeth out at the male hardly contained. ‘Promise Keir nothing you care about’ Rhysand's previous advice to him resonated through his mind.

Eris’s tone left a bitter taste on Keir’s tongue, the prince had no right to use that tone on him. But he decided to keep this fight for another day. A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he shrugged it off and retorted in a cold tone. “I want you to convince Beron that a wedding between you and Thanatos' daughter would be beneficial for both of our Courts. She’s powerful, maybe even more than Morrigan. And she already is way more than old enough to marry. It would… concretize our alliance.” The red-haired male mentally rolled his eyes, Keir really seemed to have a serious obsession with arranged weddings. He already had given his daughter’s hand centuries ago, and now his niece was on tonight’s offer.

The future ruler of Autumn pretends to be unbothered and unimpressed with his proposition. He pulls a toothpick out of his pocket, lazily sliding it between his lips. His teeth nibbled on it as he tried to keep his emotions at bay, careful not to show any signs of weakness. “This technique didn’t end up being… efficient last time.” He taunts, the humor in his tone as an attempt to cover the cringe lingering in his tone. “It will, this time.” Keir states, confidently. Then, he adds. “My daughter was more whorish than Thanatos’s.” Eris' eyes catch a glimpse of Alessia’s attempt to rise from her seat, probably to confront her uncle's disgusting statement, but she is cut short and pinned back down on her chair by her father’s hand. Keir, not even slightly aware of Alessia’s annoyance, brings Eris' attention back to him by speaking again. “And you have to make it work, or else…” Eris chuckled in disbelief, was Keir really trying to threaten him? He cocked an eyebrow, lifting his chin up, his white teeth on full display in an arrogant grin. He pulls his toothpick out of his mouth, planting it into the remnant of the pie he planned on leaving on his plate. “Else?” He purrs, every letter of this word dances on his tongue gracefully as they slip out.

“Or else he’ll have to talk to your father about your secret trip here and your little meeting with Rhysand right after he left the meeting room when I summoned him here.” Thanatos answers instead of Keir, since obviously Keir didn't care to think about a convincing argument. Eris had no idea if, or how much Keir had heard of the conversation he had with Rhysand. Did they know about the deal? Did Keir hear about his intentions to kill his father? By the way Keir looked and acted around Eris, the prince came to the conclusion that if Keir had heard about his plan to eliminate Beron, he wouldn’t have been so calm. Eris snorts, feigning ignorance. “And what exactly is there to tell? Surely nothing worthy enough for my father to even take the time to listen to you.”

Keir, unfazed, shrugs his shoulders and contemplates his fingernails, an unbothered look plastered on his face. “I have no idea what you and Rhysand had discussed, in complete honesty. But every piece of information has a price… Even for Rhysand.” He sighs, then his eyes set on Eris, staring at him up and down, the exact same way Alessia Mors had done previously. He smirks, as if he had found out some kind of information only by scanning Eris's body language. Keir adds slowly. “Moreover, I am quite certain that the fact you hid your whereabouts from your father would be enough to put him in quite a mood if someone were to tell him…” Keir wasn’t wrong. Even if the man clearly wasn’t aware of the reasons behind Eris and Rhysand's meeting, if Beron was to learn that his eldest went outside the borders behind his back, he would be more than just pissed. He would probably give Eris quite a bad time.

Eris bites the inside of his cheek discreetly, thinking of the best way to get out of this shitty situation, without making too many waves. He lowered his voice, talking back to Keir with caution, meticulously choosing his words. “And I suppose you already have a plan on how I’m supposed to make my father believe that this time, an arranged wedding would be efficient to rekindle the union between our Courts?” Eris coughs a laugh, doubtful that any argument would be strong enough to convince his father for another arranged wedding. Especially after Eris and Morrigan’s embarrassingly failed engagement. “She’s a witch. Should be convincing enough, wasn’t he looking for one?” Eris stiffens at Keir’s statement. A witch? Amarantha, not more than fifty years ago, had ordered that every witch that lived in Prythian was tracked, captured, and thrown into the Bog of Oorid, abandoning them to their tragic and fatal fate. Now that Amarantha’s reign had ceased, thanks to the Spring Court High Lord executing her, witch hunting had become illegal since then. Very few witches remained in Prythian, maybe none, actually, except Alessia Mors. The rareness of these powerful specimens had obsessed Beron for years; he wanted, needed to own one, for the prosperity of his Court he had once told Eris.

Eris considered Keir’s words, his father would be more than pleased if he was to learn that his eldest managed to negotiate a witch with the Lord of Hewn City. Beron would probably lower his attention towards Eris if he managed to bring back a witch in Autumn Court, it would make it easier for Eris to plot his father’s murder without raising any suspicions. Keir, not failing to notice Eris's spark of interest, goes on with his proposition. "As you know, Rhysand will be throwing a ball for Starfall, I want you to convince your father that you want to marry my niece by then. You’ll ask for her hand on this occasion. That this union will be beneficial to assure Autumn and Night Court alliance."

“If she refuses my proposal, will you still keep your part of the deal and stay quiet about my little trip here?” Eris asks cautiously, making sure there is no trap in the deal. “She won’t refuse.” Keir affirms, sounding far too confident to Eris’s liking. “Won’t you, young lady?” Keir turns his face to stare menacingly at his niece, who looks totally unbothered by the fact that her fate is being dictated by her uncle.

Alessia smiles and tilts her chin up slightly, the effect of the calming serum Keir had administered her earlier was now completely out of her system. The dose Keir had forced down her throat was a child dose, but he couldn’t have known, since he had stolen it from Alessia’s things. Alessia had brewed those potions for Blaire, a little girl who suffered from selective mutism since witnessing her parents' horrible death at such a young age. Which was why the potion Keir had administered to her was now completely useless. She had regained all control of her mind, rage boiling through her. But she tried to hide it from the three males at the table, taking their ignorance as an advantage. Keir still believed that the potion made her completely harmless… “Of course, Prince Eris, I will gratefully accept your proposal when the time comes.” She said, in a soft, innocent voice.

Keir clasps his hands together, making Eris' eyes quickly dart away from Alessia’s. “Alright, it’s settled then. I expect you to court my niece twice a week. That way, you’ll have a reason to travel to the Night Court and update me on Beron’s opinion about this little alliance, and warn me if he somehow changes his mind...” Eris swallows the remnant of burgundy liquid from his golden cup and pulls a fancy pocket tissue out of his shirt and wipes the corner of his lips. He then sighs and nods to approve Keir’s demand. “Fine. I’ll convince my father of this… arrangement.” Alessia, at Eris’s words, stands from her seat and grins, straightening the fabric of her dress. Her father stands up too, putting his hand on the hilt of his sword. Eris tense, was this woman so dangerous that even Lord Thanatos was scared of her? His own daughter? Alessia waves her father off with a calm hand gesture. Thanatos sits back down carefully, his hand not leaving the hilt of his sword. She then tells Eris, kindly. “Perfect, I suggest that me and Eris head out for a walk now. It’ll help with digestion.”

Eris raises a brow and shakes his head from side to side. That girl was definitely scary to him, she had the guts to dare request anything from him, and managed to scare lord Thanatos. If Lord Thanatos was scared of his own daughter and needed Keir's help when she was being troublesome, that must mean she was quite a troublesome little creature, Eris thought. He tries to respond calmly, shaking off the thought that she just tried to order him around. “I need to head back to the Autumn Court-” “You need to court me, mister Vanserra. Twice a week, am I correct? Well, I say that it starts now. I demand my first date of the week.” She says, then gestures Thanatos to her feet. Eris’s jaw muscles tense as he observes Thanatos, the feared Lord of Death as people called him, kneel in front of Alessia. The Lord of Death's hands reach under Alessia’s dress, reaching her ankles, and a metallic sound resonates through the room. They had tied her ankles, Eris realizes. She walks past Eris as soon as she’s untied and drags him with her, pulling the fabric of his sleeve. He yanks his arm out of her grip, not wanting people to see the heir of Autumn dragged around by a female, but follows behind her quick steps, her heels resonating through Hewn City’s palace as they walk to the exit.

—---

Eris grumbled once they walked out of sight and hearing from anyone in the castle. He couldn’t hide his annoyance anymore, he felt as if his blood was boiling in his veins. Being constantly cut off by this annoying family, and Alessia walking him around as if he was some kind of dog… He followed Alessia’s quick pace despite his annoyance, not really caring where she was heading, he simply wanted this date to be over quickly, before his father starts to notice his absence in his Court. “You don’t get to cut me off when I talk-” “I’ll try not to. Do you have any birthmarks, Eris?” She cuts him off again with her question. He rolls his eyes. ‘Try to’ she said… Guess he’ll have to settle with that, for now.

Her question caught him off guard, but he expertly kept his mask of carelessness on. He opened his mouth to answer, but shut it back up. She dragged him here, so she would be the one to answer his questions, he stubbornly thought. “How old are you?” She stops in her tracks, then gives Eris a cold look. She crosses her arms on her chest, Eris doing the same. The both of them stood stubbornly in front of each other, chins up, arms crossed. Eris partially gave up first, sighing. “An answer for an answer” He counters, surprised with himself to bother bargaining with this woman. She smirked, spun back around, and kept walking, Eris following her in silence once again. “Deal.” She ends up agreeing, as they enter a small cavern built within the mountain’s walls. Eris watched Alessia’s shoulders instantly relax as they walked through the vines that adorned the cavern’s entrance.

Eris' eyes light up at the sight of the full ecosystem on display behind that curtain of vines. A whole variety of plants seemed to be thriving underneath this mountain despite the lack of natural lighting. Jasmine, moonflowers, moss… It was truly a sight for sore eyes, and seeing Alessia standing in the middle of it, touching the growing moonflowers, knelt down to smell them… It lit something in Eris's soul, something he couldn’t quite describe. He felt kind of jealous, actually, to see this woman had somewhere in this Court where she seemed at peace, in her element… He couldn’t help but ask her. “Do you garden?” But as soon as the question slipped from him, he realized his mistake. He had asked her a question… but not the one he had wished to ask.

But Alessia answered, far too happy that her little ruse worked. Now, she could ask the question that tickled her tongue, after answering his meaningless question. She stood up and smiled at him proudly. “No, I don’t. This ecosystem thrives on its own. The humidity and insects are enough to give these plants everything they need to survive. Now, for my question… Do you have any birthmarks?”

Eris sighs, rolling his eyes once again. It felt as if this girl was playing with his words, with his nerves and his sanity… “No, I don’t. Now for my question-” The world pivoted around Eris before he could proceed anything. His body lands in a loud thud, the sound muffled by the moss carpet covering the ground of the cave. His hands were pinned above his head, and a dagger pressed to his throat. Alessia had pinned Eris in a matter of seconds, and as his fire power started to manifest, the humidity held in the moss, and her murk power was enough to make the fire extinguish as soon as it exited his body. Eris, pissed, and rather scared of the prettily carved dagger pressed against his throat, snarled at Alessia. “What are you doing?!”

Alessia sighed, a smug grin on her lips as she watched how the Heir of Autumn was easily pinned underneath her body. She was straddling his hips, thinking about how his dangerous man reputation would be bruised if anyone were to learn that Thanatos’s daughter, a female, had Eris down on the ground, his power easily controlled in less than two seconds. “Oh, I’ll be glad to answer yet another very simple question: I’m pinning you down, very easily in fact, to earn some information without having to worry about you running away. Now, for my next question…”

With her hand still tightly pressing the dagger on Eris’s throat, she lowers her other hand down Eris's shirt, lifting it up slightly, exposing the lower part of his abdomen. Her cold fingers grazing softly onto Eris’s hip bones make him shiver, goosebumps rising on his arms. She slowly traces the mark on his hip bone, the tattoo he had obtained from his deal with Rhysand. Eris prayed to whatever there was above that Alessia didn't know what it was… what it meant. But his prayers seemed to be vain, as she asked her next question with a taunting smile. She bends down to his ear, whispering the words in it. “Then what is that… Eris Vanserra, if not a birthmark… mh?” Eris's body immediately radiated with heat at the closeness of her lips to his pointed ear… He tried to convince himself that the only reason his body was reacting the way it did, was because he was afraid of her. Maybe a little bit impressed by her guts to pin him down on the floor, he admitted to himself, but nothing more than that.

His body stilled as she pressed the dagger even closer to his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbed, the blade scraping against it as it moved. Right, she had asked him a question… He tried his damndest to keep his mind functioning, despite the wine he had consumed, the dagger she pressed against his neck, the moss wetting his back and the stunning woman straddling- menacing him. She couldn’t know about the meaning behind the tattoo. She couldn’t know about the bargain he made with Rhysand either. Surely she couldn’t know about bargains and tattoos… right? It was mostly Illyrian culture anyway. There was no way a woman would be informed about that. He gave his shot at playing innocent and lying to her. “Oh… I think I forgot about that one. Probably a birthmark I forgot about. You tend to forget about those kinds of things after passing the cap of 500 years old.”

Alessia slowly raised her face, moving her lips away from Eris' ear, now completely sitting on his hips. Eris sighed, moving to rest on his elbows, but she pushed him back down on his back roughly with the heel of her shoe, the dagger never leaving his throat. “What?!” He roars, his power flying out of him, but extinguishing the flames as soon as they erupt from his body. The cave was now clouded by clouds of humidity. The temperature shifted, probably as hot and humid as a sauna. Alessia clicked her tongue, shaking her head as she stared through squinted eyes right back at Eris. “That is not some kind of thing you just forget about. It’s not a birthmark, you and I both know it. So I’ll go straight to the point, I know you made a bargain with Rhysand. That’s the tattoo that’s sealing it. Right?”

Eris made no move to argue back. He wasn’t exactly in an ideal position to argue back, actually, with his body caged by hers, dagger to his throat, powers restrained… He said nothing, but his silence only served to agree to everything Alessia had just figured out. She was right. About everything. But her next conclusion left Eris in shock at her cleverness. “You made sure the tattoo was hidden, so someone wouldn’t ask questions about it… About the bargain. Your father, perhaps?” Eris hated himself for the flinch his body responded to Alessia’s statement. He mentally cursed, now she would know everything. She continued on with a smirk on her face, a smirk he would’ve been eager to smack off her face if he wasn’t being utterly under her control, despite his efforts to fight back. “You want to kill your bastard too… don’t you? I know that flame in your eyes all too well… You’re just like me, princeling.”

She stroked his chest with the tip of her blade. If he moved, tried to escape, he knew she wouldn’t hesitate to stab him straight into his heart. Eris might be a High-Fae, but a stab to a vital organ like his heart would be fatal. “Believe me… I’m far worse than you are… Miss Mors…” Eris snarls, bearing his teeth at the female sitting above him. He could start to feel the bugs moving through the moss behind his back and tried to keep his mind off of the thought. At least she hadn’t stabbed him, yet. “If you agree to let me help you, I’ll let you go.” Eris's eyebrows furrowed. Was she serious? Was this some kind of game? A way to extract information from him? As if she sensed his reticence, she moved her dagger back into the hidden sheath strapped on her thigh. “What’s the price of your help…” He questioned her cautiously, propping himself slowly onto his elbows, her bottom still sat comfortably onto his hips. “My own satisfaction.”

Taglist: @milswrites @sarawritestories

#eris vanserra #eris x oc #eris acotar #eris vandaddy #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers trope #angst #alessia mors #acotar #acosaf #acowar #acomaf #my fic #series #acotar series #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra series #eris vanserra angst

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courtofthrones · 10 months

Text

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x reader

Summary: What happens when two people who are the opposite ends of a thread of fate try to get the other end of the thread to burn knowing they would burn too. Because he was the throne but she will see the throne burn.

A/N: This is definitely an Eris loaded chapter. I think this is by far the longest chapter(still not much longer). I haven't checked for any mistakes so please ignore them if you can. Reblogs and feedback of any kind appreciated.

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STAGE VII: HOLD YOUR BREATH

"And you must incorporate the royal colours in your wedding attire dear to signify our union with the High family. You know what I will have the seamstresses bring their best red fabrics."

You didn't even bother gracing the repetitive droning of your mother with a reply. With the fateful day of your wedding approaching faster than ever your mother had all but declared herself the sole decision maker on the matters regarding the preparations for your impending nuptials.

And you could not be more grateful about it because you were more than happy to not spare a single thought on it. But as you walked the castle grounds you prayed to the Mother for her to just shut her mouth for a single moment.

Having been reinstated in his court duties due to the 'mercy' of the High Lord your father had been busier than ever, so he made sure to take an evening walk with his family everyday before dinner.

However today the meetings had run a little longer than the others so Myhir who always accompanied him during court matters had also joined the walk. With a strong grip on your hand he helped you through a particularly treacherous path in the garden. You grabbed his arm a tad tighter with every step you took, allowing yourself a moment of happiness amongst everything.

You could also see it on Myhir's face how much these small moments meant for him. Having to see your lover get married and not being able to do a thing surely couldn't be easy. Had it been you in his place you would have crumbled with heartbreak.

Eris yearned for a warm bath in his chambers after the exhausting day he just had. Having to play all these mind games along with endless court posturing for years without a crack in his mask truly did manage to suck the soul out of him.

As he made his journey back to his private chambers his mind managed to wander off to thoughts of a certain sharp tongued beauty. His thoughts seemed to do that a lot these days. Revolve around you.

You were strong, that he'd give you. Having endured the scorn of the court for decades without so much as shedding a single tear. But that is where his admiration of you ended because due to some unfortunate reason you managed to bring out a part of himself that he had long thought buried.

You always said the right words with enough bite for him to lose control of his emotions. There has always been something lurking beneath your eyes ever since he saw you in the garden at the gala. If it was hunger for vengeance or something else he was not sure.

And you being aware about his association with Lady Alena Velon certainly didn't help with matters. For the last few days he has tried thinking of all possible ways you could use that information to your advantage but he has failed in reaching to a conclusion.

Unpredictable and disastrous.

Truly someone that tore through all his walls and left him utterly unarmed.

As Eris looked out towards the royal gardens which shined golden under the setting rays of the sun through the glass windows, his thoughts suddenly died in his mind.

There you were. Looking graceful as ever walking with your family, your arm around that damned advisor.

Again.

Smiling and looking up at him as though he held the stars in his hands.

Eris Vanserra thought himself a novice when it came to matters of the heart but he knew in his heart at that moment, it was a look between lovers. Hanging onto every word, grabbing each other a tad closer and gravitating towards each other no matter where.

At that Eris began closing the space between you before his mind could come up with a reason for it.

You allowed yourself this one moment of reprieve from all your burdens, walking alongside Myhir. The day had not yet ended and it had already tired you out. Your parents had managed to walk quite a bit ahead of you, so you let yourself look at Myhir unbashedly.

"Is there something on my face?" Myhir said as he bent down to pluck a rose from the garden.

You took the flower from his hands as he held it out to you ."Can I not look at you just because I want to?"

"Is that so?" He watched as you put the flower in his hair.

You mimicked the smile on his face."Yes because it is quite beautiful."

"What is?"

It took all your strength to not let out an annoyed groan at the voice of the person you wanted to get away from the most.

"Your grace ." Myhir greeted him.

However Eris only glared at him with annoyance on his face before turning to watch you with his keen gaze.

" I will escort the lady from here. Leave us." Eris finally spoke with a cocked head in the direction of the palace . Without even sparing Myhir a second glance.

Myhir opened his mouth as if to protest but thought better of it and bowed his head in farewell before walking off towards your parents.

" Walk with me." Eris commanded before you offering his arm. He always sounded like that.

Authoritative and entitled.

"And pray tell me why should I do that ?" You grit out with venom in your voice and you hated yourself for it. You should know better than show him how much his presence affected you. This simmering enmity between you both had managed to invade your life and lodged itself deep in all aspects of it.

Eris managed to take a hold of your hand and played with your fingers absent-minded. Your breath caught in your throat.

"Do not look so upset princess. You were smiling to your heart's content just a moment ago. Surely you could manage taking a walk with the one you are set to spend the rest of your life with."

Your lips pressed themselves into a thin line. "That is a hard thing to do , don't you think? Since neither of us are each other's choice."

" Yeah I can see that." He scoffed as if finally remembering the reality of the relationship between you both.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You ask narrowing your eyes at the harsh tone in his words.

"Do you take me for a halfwit? Surely you did not think I wouldn't find out about your secret lover. For a lady who was so vexed about my relations I expected you to hold yourself to the same standards but alas I was wrong."

Your bones went gelid right where you stood. This would be the information that you would wish to share with anyone but him. “It is none of your concern,” you replied rather blandly.

Eris is all stormy anger and volatile fury at your words. None of his concern? Is that to say he was right in his assumption. He did not have the name for it but he felt extremely unsettled at the thought of your heart being occupied by another. At you not looking at someone with hatred shining in your eyes.

It was unnatural and utterly selfish.

"None of my concern? I think it is especially my concern to know who my soon to be wife is entertaining herself with." He gritted out as if he would start breathing fire.

You stood there with your hands still in his gentle grip wildly different from his harsh voice and the world melted around you like ice facing fire.

"Entertainment?" You could not believe the word. "Is that what everything is to you ?"

"Do tell me what it is then? Do not tell me it is true love?" Eris didn't quite understand where the question came from but it left a sour taste in his mouth.

"Jealousy is not a good look on you darling."

You say all amused smiles and cheeky voice. You looked like you were enjoying yourself, like a predator toying with it's prey.

"Why would I be jealous of your little boy toy? Though I expected much more honour from you."

It is truly pressing how affected he is at your words.

The setting sun painted the sky in shades of orange and red as if your mere presence made the Autumn Court dance, Eris thought to himself. With fire beneath his skin Eris Vanserra truly was the Prince of Autumn but you were Autumn incarnate with your fiery smiles and cinnamon fragrance. However the breathtaking scenery did not alleviate the tension surrounding you both.

"You speak to me of honour? You? Son and heir of High Lord Beron Vanserra? Where was this so-called honour of yours when your subjects were dying? Where was your honour when you burned my brother at the stake?" You pinned the words with your blood singing in fury. "But do not worry my prince I would make sure that you would at least see an honourable death."

You gritted out with all bared teeth and venom before shaking your fingers out of his grip and making your escape towards the castle.

Your furious words and the resentment in your eyes woke him up as if he was slapped in the face and made him remember how you were the last two individuals that would find comfort with each other.

Because the blood on his hands had never birthed something as remarkable and pure as love.

Despite your mother having declared herself the sole decision maker on matters regarding your nuptials, you were not spared from the tediousness of it all.

Every day, tailors from all over Pyrthian come and go to have you try out their designs. It was the same with Eris but you believed it was more nerve-wracking on your end .After all he was the beloved prince of Autumn .He did not have to cater to anyone else's wishes. Which you could definitely see him having a hard time with.

The present day was no different than the last others as you were ushered out of your chambers into the parlors where you pushed into multiple dresses, having to hold your breath and arms up for long hours.

Upon your arrival, you were greeted by a bustling room with multiple seamstresses biting needles and toiling away at their tables .But the moment you entered the room they all turned to greet you. Flustered at the sudden attention you took some time before nodding your head at them.

And it began: the unending fitting and picking at you.The seamstresses tried their best to be delicate with you but sometimes they pricked you by mistake having been pressed for time.

"Your grace." Everyone greeted in unison.

You inhaled sharply before turning to face the least appealing person at the moment for you.

Unlike from your last encounter, there was not a trace of emotions on his face. Although when his eyes locked with you something unnamed stirred underneath it.

He studied you head to toe. You were wrapped up in the finest white silks with your house's cloak cascading from your shoulders.

You only inclined your head in greeting deliberately trying to avoid any kind of conversation with him but it would seem everyone else in the room was awaiting with scrutinizing eyes for your interaction with the prince.

With a forced smile Eris strutted his way towards you and the faes helping you took a few steps back to give you some privacy.

You studied your intended as he stopped in front of you. He was in his usual court garbs with his cropped red hair slicked back to reveal a little of his forehead. But it would seem on the way here he had managed to undo a few of the top buttons of his shirt revealing some of his defined tanned chest to the room.

He captured your cheek in his hands and pressed his lips firmly on your forehead.

"How are you this fine day, princess?"

The nearby faes swooning as though Eris was declaring his eternal love for you.

"Better now that I have seen your beautiful face my sunshine." You replied with the fakest smile adorning your face as you gripped his hand.

"That endearment is surely a choice."

The familiar weight of his gaze settled on you as the seamstresses finally excused themselves from near you.

At that you dropped his hand immediately."Which is why we must stop calling each other these vain nicknames."

"Never." He grinned as if you served him his favourite food on a platter.

"Surely you could keep all that limited between you and your paramour." You continued with all the disgust you could muster coating your voice.

Eris Vanserra's face turned grim at that and he answered with a question.

"You would know all about that wouldn't you?"

" Know all about what ?"

The words caused both of your spines to snap straight as you turned to face the Lady Aelia of Autumn. When did she arrive? Surely you would have noticed the sound of her footsteps before she entered the room?

"Mother I didn't expect to see you here." Eris stammered out the words.

"Know all about what?" She pinned, perfect brow lifted while studying you and Eris.

Lady Aelia remained clueless to the rift between you and Eris pertaining to the matters of your respective secret lovers. And you would like her to continue remaining unaware of it.

Though how Eris had managed to keep Lady Alena Velon and his relation a secret under his mother’s watchful eyes was certainly impressive. What would happen if you’d reveal it to the Lady of Autumn? Not only would you have her on your side, Eris’s action would be reprimanded. But what is the surety of Eris not doing the same with you? It was too great of a risk and it would certainly destroy you -a female much more than it would destroy him.

You were to be husband and wife now. There was no need to drag Lady Aelia to your arguments. You shall hold this secret close to you and use it to your benefit in the future.

"It was of no importance mother." You jumped to save both of you. Eris pivoting to look at you with shock having heard the way you addressed his mother.

"We were merely talking about each other's interests." You finished.

At your words Lady Aelia's eyes softened on your face as though she knew of something you didn't but had spared you of it.

"That gives me comfort my dear ."she answered before taking a seat near the refreshments table and declaring to the room.

"Let us proceed with the fitting ."

As you walked away from him, Eris was left puzzled as to why you did not expose him to his mother. Eris watched your back as you walked away towards the waiting seamstresses. You always carried that ruthlessness in your stride— spine straight, chest pushed out, eyes straightforward.

A shudder snaked down his spine and in between his legs, where it had no right going to.

You glimpsed at Lyna through the gilded mirror as she finishes lacing up your dress.

It has been quite a few days since your last dispute with Eris. You remained in the Forest House restless and short tempered most of the time and your concerns regarding the lack of contact between you and Senkas surely did not help with matters.

"My lady let us go for a walk." Lyna suggested as if she could see the war inside your head. She was lovely. She had been your closest female companion since your childhood. Growing up there were not many people who you could call your friends and the bad name to your family certainly didn't help. Therefore Lyna was someone you cherished with all your heart.

So when she asked for your company you agreed immediately. Moreover being confined in your chambers and worrying yourself to death surely aren't going to help with your uneasiness.

On your way to the open courtyard, servants and sentries alike greeted you here and there. Everyone working in the palace had some kind of chore to do. Whether it be buying ingredients for the grand feast for royal wedding that had been promised to the members of the court or be it decorating every nook and corner.

Even with magic it was a tedious job due to which even Lyna was pulled from your side.

In the golden hour The Forest House was truly a sight to behold. The red splashed leaves created a picturesque beauty all around. You allowed yourself to bask in the tranquility of it but like always the cauldron's fate was never on your side.

"Lady Tarsa. Join us." Someone bellowed from the open courtyard.

Right there, smack dab in the middle of it stood the Autumn princes beckoning you towards them.

You looked at them through narrowed eyes before schooling your features into an amiable expression and walking towards them.

You gathered that they were about to set off for hunting in the forest from their bows and arrows.

"Am I to still call you that or something better? Like sister? Or perhaps Princess." It was Prince Blaze ,the second youngest and definitely the most disgusting son of Beron Vanserra. Rumours of him being a sadistic bastard were not uncommon in court. Thus the grin on his face certainly did its job of making you feel uneasy.

"Don't be an ass Blaze." Surprisingly it was Drystan, the second eldest who came to your defence and you found yourself gravitating closer to him.

"Come on brother surely she can take the heat. I just assumed hailing from the traitor's family should have made her thick skinned."

Your nails tattooed crescent shaped marks onto your palms as rage and bloodlust rushed through your veins. Don't kill him.

Do not kill him.

Just then Eris stepped away from his horse and strutted closer to you.

Eris stared at you blankly."What are you doing here ?"

You exclaimed with your hand on your chest. "It is a beautiful day is it not your grace. I am not a prisoner am I? Surely I am allowed to roam the palace grounds to my heart's content."

"You know that is not what I meant."He pushed closer to you instinctively.

A saccharine smile was what he received as you snaked your arms around his neck. "I know darling."

"Whatever you are planning y/n you better stop." He whispered so low that only you could hear his warning.

"You wound me my love. I would never."

Eris narrowed his eyes at that.

As you felt everyone's eyes on you, you leaned in and kissed his cheek fondly.

You could hear his bastard brothers laughing themselves to the ground at the action.

" Have a safe hunt."you smiled up at Eris.

Eris stared at you stunned by your open affections ,no matter how fake they were.

"Or not" you continued only for him to hear before stepping out of his embrace.

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