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lucienarcheron · 2 months

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Spirit Meets the Bones - I

Eris and Iris. Son of a high lord, daughter of a fiend. An arranged marriage brought them together and beneath all the hate, the two are more alike than they’d like to be.

Genre: Angst/Drama/Romance Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse.

Author's Note: Today marks the three-year anniversary of when I first posted this story and what better day to start reposting than today! It means so much that people stuck around and are still excited for it to continue. I hope you enjoy how it unfolds!

biggest shoutout will go to @abruisedmuse ♥️ without you, I don't know how I'd finish this fic. ily!

Find it all here.

Eris's hands were clasped behind his back as he stood rigidly next to the female who had now become shackled to him. His bride had only repeated the words of binding in a dull, dry tone and shifted her face slightly so he’d kiss her cheek rather than her lips in front of everyone. Already, she had more nerve than he anticipated. He had only smiled.

The two now stood in their finest before his parents, the festivities of the wedding raging on behind them. It would continue to rage on when the bride and groom took their leave. It all meant nothing to either of them.

Eris stood in his suit, tailor-made, and fitted in forest green. Iris’s bridal gown of white covered every inch of her, painted against every delicate curve. Eris had only stolen glances, not looking for too long. The hatred in her eyes had become grating.

He spared Iris another side glance, aware his father was watching him, and gave his parents a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, Father. You spared no costs on this wedding.”

“If only the bride and groom seemed to enjoy it as well.”

Eris offered his father another tight smile. “It all happened so fast. We’re both a bit whiplashed but I’m sure Iris loved it as much as I did,” he said and finally fully looked at his bride. “Didn’t you...wife?”

Iris automatically bowed her head towards the Lord and Lady of Autumn and turned her gaze to her now-husband. “Of course...husband. Forgive me, I am a little tired. It’s been a long day.”

Eris and Iris.

Iris and Eris.

He only looked at her with boredom.

She looked at him wanting to desperately snap his neck.

“Well, run along then. Enjoy your wedding night. Don’t embarrass me, son. Make sure to show your bride a good time.” Beron mused with a laugh and the Lady of Autumn, Lady Enya, gave Eris a pleading look as he nodded to his parents.

“Welcome to the family, Iris.” Lady Enya said softly.

Iris bowed her head in thanks and turned once more to look at her now-husband who gave her a small smirk and Eris couldn’t take his eyes off her. Couldn’t help the slight glee at how hard she was trying not to sneer back at him.

“Come along wife, it’s time for the fun part of being married,” Eris said with a coy smile and held out his arm.

But Iris only stared at it. She stared at his arm and wondered what would happen if she just...snapped it off his body. Or stabbed him. Or at least attempted either option. Her father had nearly ripped her head off when he found out about the small knife hidden beneath her dress. The sting of his smack had barely settled down before she walked into her wedding. Nonetheless...her fingernails could be sharp enough to maim.

When a moment passed and Iris still hadn’t taken his arm, Eris stepped closer to her.

“Take my fucken arm before I drag you out of here.” he hissed and Iris blinked then tilted her head towards him with a shy smile, the ever-blushing bride as she approached him and slipped her arm through his. Never mind that it was trembling slightly.

“Try dragging me out,” she said softly. “I’ll only end up dragging your bleeding body back across this hall.”

It was Eris’s turn to blink then his lips twisted into a smirk. “Is that what your eyes have been trying to tell me? We can fulfill your dirty little fantasy once we’re alone.”

Iris stood before her husband and schooled her expression so that anyone looking at her would see her gaze reverent rather than murderous. As if they didn’t know how reverent murdering someone you hated could be.

“Oh, does that mean once we’re alone, I can run a blade several times through your torso?” she said sweetly. “Because that’s exactly what I was fantasizing about.”

Eris chuckled, his eyes drinking in the sight of her. The challenge in her voice. The sternness in her hooded eyes. “Big words for a shaking gazelle in a room full of wolves,” he said softly and leaned in to kiss her temple, ever the besotted groom. “Don’t forget, you married the worst of them. I’d watch that pretty mouth if I were you.”

Iris let him pull away and let him see the shy smile on her face even as rage flashed in her eyes. Her grip tightened on his arm and she leaned into him again. “Or what?”

A chuckle slipped out before he could help himself. Bold. She was bolder than he expected. “You’ll find out once we’re behind a closed door, wife.”

He felt her body tense but paid her no mind as he nodded his acknowledgment to the people congratulating them, as he did practically drag her out of the room. The sooner they got out of there, the sooner this night would be over and he could somehow think of how to handle this female that had been shoved at him.

They walked in silence down the hall, nodding to any lingering guests before turning a corner and the path before them was empty.

“Did you lose your tongue, little gazelle? No more big words now that you don’t have an audience?” he said quietly, as the two walked down the halls of The Forest House towards their wing. A whole wing where he was to now live with his little lady. “Not going to try and run?”

She finally yanked her arm free from his and openly glared. “And go where?” she spat. “As if you wouldn’t drag me back here and humiliate me for trying.”

Eris only hummed his response and watched as she huffed then continued walking and he took the time to openly observe her in the silence. In a tense, nearly suffocating silence.

His wife.

Wife.

He mouthed the word silently to himself then frowned thinking of how, for the second time, he was forced into a union he had little say in. At least this one hadn’t fucked anyone else as far as he was aware.

It wouldn’t have mattered if she did at this point. She was now his and he was hers. There was no escape. There would be nobody else. And Eris wasn't exactly sure how to feel about this.

How was he supposed to feel about a female he knew nothing about? How, exactly was he supposed to feel when he had only found out a month before the wedding that she was to be his?

Her father, a wealthy merchant — a criminal as Eris had understood, wanted to build better ties with the High Lord of Autumn to no doubt get away with things he shouldn’t. Never mind that the male was as big of a piece of shit as his father. He had simply offered his daughter to Beron as a bride for Eris like she meant nothing to him. Wrapped her up for him like a delicious dessert to be eaten.

And delicious she was. Eris let his eyes roam her body as she stalked in front of him toward the room. She didn't even know which way they were supposed to be going and yet, the confidence in her walk of rage didn’t hold her back. Her chestnut brown hair coiled up in braids, the tiara sitting atop her head, exposing her long lovely neck.

The train of her dress trailed behind her and he only quirked his brow at the design, not as frilly as he had expected. Then again, he knew nothing about her. No one had given him the chance.

Eris stepped on the tip of the dress’s train and she startled, a small gasp escaping her lips. Turning sharply, she glared at him.

“Get off my dress.” she seethed but he only gave her a small smile.

“We’re here.” he said and watched as she froze again, color seeming to drain from her face. He pursed his lips and wondered just how badly she thought this was going to go. “Are you thinking about running now?”

This seemed to unfreeze her body and Iris blinked at him. “Just open the door.” she muttered quietly. But he could hear her heart beating. He could almost taste her fear and his lips curled in disdain.

Eris waved his hand for the door to open and with a mocking bow, he gestured for Iris to step inside. She gave him a withering look then slowly stepped into the room and Eris followed her in.

The two stood in the doorway of the suite taking in the grandness, the room a swirl of all the autumn colors in one, coming together to give it a look of a magical place of rest. Never mind that the two people required to live here wanted to do anything but be in this space. The suite was huge, decorated with a seating area in one corner, a small dining space in another, a bedroom set that included a large closet across the wall, a vanity, and —

Iris’s eyes fell on the bed that was big enough to fit six people and her fists clenched. She only gave him a look of loathing and wrapped her arms around herself, wanting to refuse even acknowledging the space.

But then Eris closed the door and locked it, and the sense of panic she had been holding back all day filled the room. He heard her swallow and as he took one step closer, Iris whirled around.

“Don’t touch me.” she snarled.

Eris paused then took a deep breath, his hands once again clasped behind his back, a sour taste in his mouth. Naturally, she was to assume the worst about him. Naturally, he might as well oblige her.

“You’re my wife now. I thought the whole point of the wedding night was for us to be touching as much as possible,” he said quietly, his signature smirk gracing his face as he moved closer to her. “Or did they not teach you that?”

Iris flushed and shot him a glare, pointing viciously. “Don’t you take that tone with me or I’ll make you regret it.”

Eris’s smile was feral at the challenge. “Claws are coming out now, are they, wife?” he said quietly and took another step closer. “I wonder if you have claws like that in bed.” He tilted his head, observing her. “Why is your dress so modest? Didn’t they tell you I like to see some skin?”

She took another step back, hating the predatory look in his gaze. “You won’t be near my dress for too long so don’t concern yourself with it.”

“Are you sure about that? I do need to fulfill my husbandly duties and take it off of you.” he said again and took the final step for them to share a breath. “Make you feel all the wonderful things a husband should make his wife feel.”

“Stop talking to me that way.” she hissed, shoving him back.

He chuckled and grabbed her arm firmly, pulling her into his chest. “I will talk to you however I see fit, especially when it makes you flush so beautifully.”

And indeed, Eris hadn’t gotten the chance to stare at her so openly until this moment and it was unfortunate how beautiful she actually was. Very unfortunate, he thought, especially when his own heart started beating wildly in his chest and he felt hers sing to the same erratic rhythm.

The world seemed to still as his fingers gripped her arm. His amber eyes found her hazel ones and both pairs of eyes widened slightly. His gaze intensified as he soaked in her features and how a few loose strands of hair had slipped to frame her face so wonderfully. Iris’s own thoughts had paused at how close his lips were to hers and the way he stood so elegantly and effortlessly towering over her.

It was truly unfortunate. Because Eris’s eyes had flickered down to her lips and back, the corner of his lips lifting. How much would she hate him if were to kiss her? Could he have one taste?

Iris flushed deeply as Eris leaned in even closer and she did the only thing she could think of to get away from him.

Eris let out a groan of pain as she kneed him in the balls and crossed to the other side of the room.

“What the fuck was that for?” he hissed, doubled over, his glare meeting the one Iris shot at him.

“I told you not to touch me. Married or not.” she hissed, taking a step back. “And based on everything I’ve heard about you, I definitely don’t want you touching me.”

Eris ran his tongue over his teeth as he straightened and took another step towards her.

A chair flew towards him then and he barely ducked in time.

“What the ever-loving fuck —”

“Stay on your side of the room.”

“I’m not going to —”

“One more step and the dagger will be next.”

Eris stared at her in confusion, at the dagger that looked so much like —

He looked down at his belt where he knew his dagger to be sheathed...except it was not.

“You were too busy trying to intimidate me to notice,” she said with a snort, and gone was the trembling gazelle that he’d seen all day, his dagger twirling her hand. “Surprise.”

Eris blinked then huffed out a noise of disbelief. “Well, wife. This is an interesting turn of events...How did you manage to steal it?”

“Most males are stupid and get easily distracted by beautiful females. If I let you believe I was weak, you automatically assumed you could dominate me and lose the upper hand,” she said simply and shrugged. “Your mistake.”

He narrowed his eyes. “From the things your father told me about you, handling weapons wasn’t on the list.”

“My father is a lying piece of shit and doesn’t know an actual thing about me.”

“He told me your passion was piano and you prefer to stay indoors because you were sensitive to the sun,” Eris stated flatly and Iris rolled her eyes.

“I do love piano but the only thing I’m sensitive to are the bruises he gifts me that people would notice if he let me out as often as I’d like.”

Eris froze. A distant roaring filled his ears as he stared at Iris. He stared and stared and when she narrowed her eyes at him, he clenched his teeth and took a breath.

“Your father beats you?” he asked quietly.

Iris shrugged and it was a shrug that he knew well. A shrug he had mastered to deflect Beron’s marks on his own body. A shrug he had mirrored from his own mother.

“My father seemed giddy at the idea that you’d be beating me too,” Iris began and sunk the dagger into the table with a loud thud, before meeting his gaze again. “But if you think that gives you permission to lay a hand on me, I will break every single one of your fingers and carve your heart out of your body. I would die trying.”

Eris stared at her. Trying to think of a response. Trying to think of all the things he’d heard about her before this moment.

“My daughter is delicate.” her father had told him. “She’s also foolish and needs guidance with a heavy hand. Don’t be afraid to put her in her place.”

There was nothing delicate about the fiery rage he saw in the female in front of him. Nothing but sharp glares and determination. Her stance alone told him she would be nothing of what he had expected.

His mother’s bruised skin flashed in his mind and Eris swallowed then met Iris’s gaze.

“I would never harm you,” he said firmly and she tilted her head, quirking a brow.

“Your reputation says otherwise.”

“My reputation is catered to a specific audience.”

“Your reputation is the reason I am willing to kill you and face death myself rather than let you turn me into the broken doll my father tried to make me.”

Eris pursed his lips at that and slipped a hand in his pocket, the other coming to brush back his hair. “It appears wife, that you and I aren’t what we seem.”

Iris crossed her arms. “So it seems, husband.”

“We wasted time not getting to know each other a month ago.” Eris scoffed with an eye roll and Iris froze. “Your father insisted you were too nervous and shy.”

“What do you mean a month?” she asked breathlessly, her hands fisting at her sides.

Eris’s blink marked his confusion. “A month. Our engagement was announced a month ago.”

Iris blinked then blinked again and Eris watched as a cascade of emotions flashed across her face.

“A week.” she gasped out. “I was told a week ago.”

Eris’s eyes narrowed and he took in her shaking hands. “A week?” he asked quietly.

Iris only stared at him and he felt his chest tighten when she started taking deep breaths. Eris opened his mouth to say something — he felt compelled to say anything — but she held up a hand.

“I will only say this once,” Iris spoke, her voice surprisingly steady. “We may be sharing a bed but we will not...go further than that.”

Eris frowned, his own hands fisted at his sides. “Alright.”

She blinked in return. “Alright?”

His expression immediately turned sour at that. “I think the expectations for tonight have been made very clear. What more do you want from me?”

“Nothing. I don’t want anything from you.” Iris replied, all steadiness was gone from her voice as her face fell. “I wish I had nothing to do with you.”

And with that statement, she darted into their shared bathroom and slammed it shut.

Eris remained rooted to his place and simply stared after her, at the closed door she now hid behind, his thoughts a thousand miles a minute.

He thought about their names and the silly way they matched.

He thought about the similar father figure they seemed to have and the history they seemed to share.

He thought about the small thrill he had felt when he had been within kissing range.

Eris's frown deepened at the sniffle he heard from behind the door and wondered...just how much hell would they be in for now.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra fanfic #eris vanserra x oc #smtb chapters #spirit meets the bones #acotar fanfiction #gfics

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positivewitch · 1 month

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Eris Vanserra x Iris

- Song : Ivy by Taylor Swift

- Characters : Spirit Meets the Bones by @lucienarcheron

(It is an amazing fanfic!! If you are Eris Vanserra girlie like me!! I highly recommend you to read this series ✨)

#eris vanserra #eris x oc #eriris #smtb #spirit meets the bones #eris vandaddy #eris fanfic #eris vanserra fanart #Gigi <333 #acotar fanart #Ella art ✨#These were on my galery for so long #i did my bwst to fix these #I wanna draw them again

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dawneternal · 14 days

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☁︎ Iris, from @lucienarcheron 's Spirit Meets the Bones

☁︎ "I haven't slit your throat yet so how mean am I, really?" She said and gave him a pointed look.

☁︎ please don't repost, I do not consent for my work to be used with AI (if you see either, please let me know)

#acotar #fan art #fanart #acotar fan art #acotar fanart #acotar oc #autumn court #autumn court aesthetic #autumn court oc #eris vanserra #lucienarcheron #spirit meets the bones #smtb #Ollie draws

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animezinglife · 18 hours

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"'You’re willing to be my friend first, then?' she asked quietly. 'Friendship was the first thing I offered you,' he replied simply. And it hit Iris then — how incredibly similar they were. A fact Eris seemed to have figured out early on. He was someone who needed a person just as badly as she did." -Iris x Eris, Spirit Meets the Bones by @lucienarcheron

#spirit meets the bones #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #iris #a court of thorns and roses #fic recs #(guest starring Lyra)#iris x eris moodboard #smtb #lucienarcheron #moononastring

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moononastring · 2 years

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Spirit Meets the Bones XIX

Find it all here.

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama Author's Note: I sincerely appreciate every single one of you ♥️ Feedback is always welcome and very encouraging :)

Eris hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her during their visit, watching as she laughed at Lucien’s jokes, at Elain’s witty responses, and most importantly, he knew she could feel his eyes on her whenever her lips curled up into a smile at some quip he made that resulted in outrage by their hosts.

Eris Vanserra was hanging by a thread and his wife would be the one to cut away whatever was left of his sanity. And she didn’t even know to what extent.

He watched at how animated she became since they’d arrived, so at ease with his favorite people, it made him never want to leave.

But to their reality they had to return and Eris watched as Iris flushed in delight at the beautiful package of stacked books that Lucien had handed her. He nearly threw up when she turned to flash him a wide smile and then looked back at Lucien as they stood in the doorway.

“This is for me?” she asked in hushed excitement.

“For you.” Lucien confirmed with a chuckle.

“Are you — you didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh, but I definitely wanted to. Eris mentioned you’ve started studying and practicing healing so I think you’ll find these helpful to your studies.” Lucien said with a small smile then shrugged at her expression. “Perks of being close to Helion. I get access to endless amounts of information.”

“I helped him pick those out and might have sneaked in a book or two for fun in there.” Elain said with a giggle and Eris truly almost vomited in his brother’s doorway when Iris grinned.

“I can’t wait to read through these!” Iris said, glancing down at the books. Eris watched her throat bob and before he could stop himself, he gave her arm a little squeeze. She looked up at him and he could see the emotion she was trying to suppress before she looked back to their hosts and said earnestly, “Thank you. This visit has been wonderful. You’re both so kind.”

Elain waved a hand. “Please, we’re so happy to have you!” she gushed. “Eris, I have something for mother if you don’t mind taking it, please?”

Eris nodded and glanced between his wife and his brother then squinted at Lucien. “Say nothing to my wife.” he deadpanned.

Lucien promptly glanced at Iris and said in his most serious of voices, “Nothing,” which only caused Iris to chuckle as Eris flipped off his brother and followed Elain.

Iris watched as Eris left her side and hesitated to glance at Lucien for a moment, her hands gripping the stack of books tightly. She wasn’t used to this, having people enjoy her company and — and give her things. Finally looking up at Lucien, she found him watching her with a patient smile as if he could sense her overwhelming feelings of gratitude — sensing the hug she would love to give him but was hesitant to do so.

“Don’t be so horrified to stand here alone with me,” Lucien teased. “I’m not as nearly as awful to anyone as I am to Eris.”

Iris let out a small chuckle and shook her head. “This has been the highlight of my week.” She finally said, smiling warmly at him as they stood by the door. “Eris talks so much about you and Elain, I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you both. Thank you again for being so welcoming.”

Lucien waved a hand with a good-natured smile. “Please, thanks are not needed. We’d always be happy to have you,” he said then gave her a sly smile. “I hope you’re giving Eris as much of a hard time as possible?”

“I try to go out of my way to make fun of him as much as I can,” she replied with a small smirk. “You should be proud.”

Lucien laughed. “You’re everything I wanted in a sister-in-law,” he said and nudged her gently with his elbow. “Welcome to our very dysfunctional family.”

“Why thank you.” she said and gave him a half curtsey that had Lucien rolling his eyes. “It’s been very entertaining…to say the least.”

Lucien snorted. “I’m sure. You haven’t even properly met the other Vanserras yet.”

Iris’s lips twitched. “Not yet,” she said with a chuckle. “Eris keeps saying no but I don’t think that will last much longer.”

Her brother-in-law made a noise in response. “To be fair, they only met Elain once from far away so I see where he’s coming from.”

She glanced down at the books in her hands once more and then back up at him. “I’m — I hope you know…your relationship with Eris is so important to him. And it’s important to me as well.” Iris paused here, unsure of how to explain how she felt in any other way than honestly. “I don’t have many — any friends really. I want us to be good friends.”

Lucien smiled more fully then reached a hand to gently touch her elbow. “We already are. Even better, we’re family now.” he said and Iris flushed happily. “I’m very happy for you and Eris. I look forward to watching him have more mental breakdowns because of you.”

Iris ducked her head and laughed softly at his teasing. “It wasn’t that bad.” she mumbled.

“Oh, it was the highlight of my whole year.” he said with a snort. “I will never let him live this down.”

“Spoken like a true brother.” she said with a chuckle that he echoed.

“It’s not every day I get to —” but Lucien stiffened and whirled towards the kitchen, Iris tensing next to him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Elain.” he said quickly and stalked towards the kitchen, Iris on his heels.

They rushed in to find Elain standing frozen, her hands gripping a basket tightly with Eris holding onto her gently. He spared Lucien a glance before focusing on Elain again. “It just started.”

Iris watched as Eris slowly backed away for Lucien to take his place next to his wife, his hands touching her gently. “Elain, my love. What are you seeing?”

It took a moment for Elain to speak and Iris watched in fascination, her grip on the stack of books tightening as Elain’s eyes glazed over. She had only heard about what a seer could do but to see one in action…

“I see — fire.” Elain gasped, her grip tightening on the basket handle. “A ring of fire and blood. An eagle flying free. A crown dipped in crimson. A thread of gold.”

Eris’s eyes found Iris and she frowned at the tension in his body before turning back to Elain.

“Is she alright?” she asked quietly. “Is there anything we can do?”

Lucien shot her a small smile. “She’ll come to in a moment.” he said then turned back to his wife, a hand smoothing down her hair. “My love, do you see anything else?”

Elain blinked and Iris watched as her expression started to clear. She quietly said, “Every caged bird finds a way to flee. Some are stained red while some shed their cloaks and reign free.” She blinked rapidly and the basket slipped from her hands as she took a breath.

Lucien caught it easily, one hand on her shoulder to steady her. “Are you alright, dove?”

Elain blinked once more and shook her head, letting out a shuddering breath. “Oh.” she said softly. “I’m — I’m alright.” She glanced at Lucien, giving him a small reassuring smile then at Eris and Iris, who stood quietly. “I’m okay. It’s been a while since I’ve been hit suddenly with a vision. Usually, I feel them coming but this one snuck up on me.”

“Do you think something triggered it?” Iris asked quietly and if she hadn’t been watching Elain intensely, she might’ve missed the Seer’s small glance towards Eris and then back at Lucien.

“I — I think I was just so excited about you visiting, that’s all.” she said with a small chuckle. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down her dress and then smiled at them. “Basket is ready to go.”

Iris smiled timidly then glanced at Eris whose gaze was narrowed on Elain.

“Are you sure everything’s alright?” Eris asked slowly and his gaze flickered to his brother.

Elain’s lips thinned. “You know it takes a little time to process my visions but I think…I think a shift is coming.” she said carefully, a hand gently rubbing her forehead. “You should be prepared for anything.”

Iris’s brows furrowed as she glanced between the three of them. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all.” she said as unease spread through her chest. Her gaze focused on how Eris had tensed, his fist clenching at his sides. At how he nodded and gave Elain a small smile.

“I’m nothing if not prepared for everything,” he said and straightened. “It’ll be fine.”

A silence followed this statement and Iris frowned as her gaze shifted between Elain, Lucien, and finally settled on Eris. “Well. That’s reassuring, I guess.” she said, earning a chuckle from the group.

Lucien waved a hand as if to wipe away the tension and said with a small smile. “I did say this family was dysfunctional.”

“Indeed…” she said and raised her brows, nodding her head towards Eris. “I’ve picked up on that living with this one.”

Eris shot his wife a look then rolled his eyes and reached out to Lucien for the basket. “Well now, we, unfortunately, have to get back to the dysfunction.”

Iris sighed, sparing him a glance then smiled at their hosts. “Thank you again for today. I hope we can visit again soon.”

“You’re always welcome.” Elain said with a wide smile. “I look forward to us bonding more.”

“Absolutely,” Iris replied with a smile of her own, her hands tightening on her gift from Lucien and lifting it slightly in his direction. “I hope you don’t mind if I share some thoughts about what I learn.”

“You better.” he said firmly. “I’m also looking forward to hearing about you being more violent towards my brother.” Lucien added with a grin. “Choke him once or twice, just for me.”

Iris shifted the books in her hand to give him a salute as Eris scowled at his brother. “You have my word.”

“Tell your husband to stop being an ass.” Eris said to Elain who grinned.

“Tell him yourself.”

“It hurts my eyes to look at him. I’d rather not.”

“Eris.” Iris chided. “Be nice.”

“He wants you to choke me.”

“Don’t pretend like you won’t have it coming.” she said with a snort and her husband’s scowl deepened at the laughs that followed. “I’ll try to teach him better manners for next time.”

“Good luck.” Lucien said with a snort of his own as Elain squeezed Eris in a hug. “My mother has been trying for years.”

“I have excellent manners.” Eris replied with a huff, squeezing Elain with his free arm. “You just seem to bring out the worst in me.”

“I don’t know about excellent.” Elain said and laughed at the look he gave her but ignored him as she yanked Iris into a bone-crushing hug. Eris’s focus shifted to Iris’s slight hesitation before she returned Elain’s hug with a fervor that had Eris swallow.

Lucien met his brother’s gaze as Elain pulled away and tilted his head towards Iris with a small smile. Rolling his eyes, Eris gave a short nod and Lucien replaced Elain, giving Iris another tight hug.

“I should’ve known you two would be huggers.” Iris said as she pulled back with a flushed face and their hosts shared identical grins.

“Oh yes.” Elain said with a nod. “Even though these two pretend to hate it.”

Almost as if on cue, the brothers shared an identical look of disgust.

“Lucien.”

“Eris.”

“Here we go.” Elain muttered.

“Hugging you is like hugging a thornbush,” Lucien said with a sweet smile that wasn’t sweet at all. “I am left wounded and bleeding.”

“And hugging you is like hugging death.” Eris replied with a not-so-sweet smile of his own. “I am left soulless and barely breathing.”

Lucien laughed. “You’re soulless all on your own. Don’t go blaming me for that.”

“I really should’ve stabbed you when I had the chance earlier.”

Lucien put an arm around Elain’s shoulder and flipped Eris off with his free hand. “Fuck you.”

Eris held up his own finger. “Fuck you.”

Iris shared a look with Elain then rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how you’ve dealt with them like this all the time.”

“Practice.” Elain said with a grin that turned menacing as she gave both brothers a look. “And polite threats.”

Iris laughed then nodded her head towards Eris who quirked a brow at her. “I’ll choke him into submission for next time.”

“I’d rather not keep talking about my personal choking preferences in front of my brother but if you insist —” Eris started, but Iris held up a hand with a look of disdain, effectively cutting him off as Lucien gagged loudly and Elain laughed.

“Anyway,” Iris said, ignoring the suggestive Eris look he was giving her. “We’ll visit soon after the embarrassment of this visit wears off.”

“Please.” Lucien snorted. “We were on our best behavior.”

Iris gave her brother-in-law a knowing look that Lucien could only smile at.

“Next time, come alone.” Elain said with a wink. “We’ll kick Lucien out then have ourselves a day of fun without them.”

A noise of outrage left both brothers and the girls could only laugh at the offended debate that followed.

And Iris couldn’t help but watch Eris with Lucien and Elain — the conversation continuing from the door to the trek of their winnowing point. She watched him as she conversed as well, until it was really time for them to leave, watching the delighted smirk on his face, how at ease he was.

When they finally departed, winnowing home, the two paused at the threshold of The Forest House and Iris watched as Eris’s expression fell into the stoic indifference he donned when home. She realized more than ever at this moment, how much she didn’t like it. How exhausting this must be for him.

Visiting Elain and Lucien had been a break and now they were back to reality.

They walked in silence towards their wing, her hand tightening on her stack of books as she walked beside him and felt the tension coming off him in waves whenever they passed others in the halls. She hadn’t missed the glances people aimed at them and neither had he. Had word spread of what Eris had done to her father? Would it — would he have to pay a price for it? Iris stole a glance at him, noting he had only spoken when sending off his mother’s basket with a sentry.

As they neared their chambers, Iris finally spoke.

“Well,” she began, glancing up at him. “I’m really glad we went.”

Eris gave her a thin smile, slowing down their walk. “I’m glad we did too,” he said quietly and met her gaze. “I…enjoyed watching you bond with them.”

Iris gave him a small smile, gently nudging him with her elbow. “They’re easy to like.”

“That they are.” he said and he let his eyes wash over her face, drinking in the sight of her looking at him, then looked away. “You weren’t ready to come back, were you?”

“Not really.” she said, the corner of her mouth ticking up. “Were you?”

“I never really am.”

Iris frowned slightly at the words but said nothing as they continued walking until they finally reached their chamber doors and stopped. Iris faced him and eyed the small distance between them, then glanced up at him, assessing. She watched how rigidly he stood, his hands clasped behind his back, the detached expression she had come to see through. Iris knew he carried a huge burden, and knew how heavily weighed down his shoulders were. The way his joy had to be so guarded that he couldn’t enjoy a simple outing. And gods, did she feel seen in his emotions. Seen in his struggle because hers had always been the same, was the same for so long.

He raised a brow at her expression. “What is it?”

Iris bit her lip, hesitating for a moment. Yes, things had shifted between them. They had been changing for weeks and now…

She took a deep breath and finally asked, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Eris pursed his lips and waited a moment before clearing his throat and answering, “We have a lot to discuss, I’d say.”

“And you’ll tell me everything?” she asked and the side of his mouth lifted.

“I assume you won’t resist badgering me with questions until you get all the answers you want.”

“And I assume you’re smart enough not to let it get to badgering because then I will badger you with a weapon.” she said sweetly and Eris chuckled quietly.

“You’re being mean, little gazelle.” he asked and shifted closer, his expression lightening even as his eyes monitored the space around them. “Threatening a prince so casually like this.”

She watched him as he scanned their surroundings, no doubt searching for any threats even with them being the only ones in the hall. Threats that were likely more worrisome for him now after what had happened earlier today.

After their kiss. After they shifted to a little more than friends.

She didn’t want him to keep worrying and she didn’t want to think about stepping back into their room just yet. She wanted to ease whatever it is that he wasn’t telling her.

So she took a step closer.

“And what are you going to do about it, prince?” she asked quietly and Eris quirked a brow.

“What would you like me to do about it, my lady?” he replied, the drop of his voice straightening her spine.

Iris bit her lip, watching him as he watched her. What did she want him to do about it? She thought about the way he had held her earlier. The way his hands had pulled her in his arms and kissed her senselessly. She may have kissed him first but Eris had really kissed her and now she wanted to do many things with him. To him. Let him do things to her.

Heat pooled low in her stomach and Iris hated the flush on her cheeks that definitely gave away where her thought process was going. He didn’t need to know she was thinking about this so she only shook her head with a small smile.

“Stuff.” she managed and knocked her elbow into his side again.

He met her gaze and shot her a knowing look that had her lips twitching. “Stuff that is similar to those things you refused to elaborate on during our visit?”

She shrugged with a small smile. “Maybe.”

He snorted and shook his head. “Let’s not backtrack to that maybe of yours. You’ve been very agreeable lately.”

“Well, we can’t have that now.” she said with that same small smile. “I was maybe going to elaborate but I don’t find that I am in an agreeable mood anymore.”

Eris shot her a look of disbelief then huffed a laugh. “She says as she clearly can’t keep her hands off me.”

“You let me. And you like it.”

He raised his brows. “Someone thinks highly of themselves. I don’t even like you,” he said and Iris saw him fighting back a smirk at the look she shot him. “Besides, you’re the one who denies yourself things you enjoy. And by things you enjoy, I mean me.”

“I don’t enjoy anything about you.”

“Your pretty mouth says such unbelievable lies.”

She gave him a coy smile. “You think my mouth is pretty?”

“Don’t fish for compliments. You already know the answer to that question.”

“Well, if you’re not going to compliment me, I guess I won’t be agreeable after all.” she said, giving him her best dismissive look, nose in the air.

Eris fought back a smile, knowing exactly what she was doing with this conversation. He couldn’t help how tense he became as soon as they returned, his home hadn’t been a safe place in so long. It certainly didn’t feel like a safe place for her either.

But she was getting to be very good at distracting him. His wife. His mate. Who didn’t even know she was his mate.

“Maybe we should step inside.” he finally said. “I think you’ll be more agreeable behind closed doors.”

He watched her swallow, glancing at him, giving him only a moment to see the look on her face — only a second to read the emotions in her eyes then, Iris slowly turned to face the doorway.

Eris’s eyes narrowed as he watched her stand there. He gave her a moment and just as he opened his mouth to speak, she beat him to it.

“I know I said that I wouldn’t let him ruin anything else for me…” she began quietly and Eris’s jaw clenched at the mention of her father. “But… I really hate that he tainted our space.”

Eris pursed his lips then slowly rested his hands on her shoulders to turn her back towards him. Never mind the way his heart had thudded at her usage of the word our.

“I will set additional wards first thing tomorrow morning that will only allow a person you actually want to come in.” he said. “It will prevent anyone from setting foot in here without official permission.”

Iris nodded and she glanced down at the books in her hands again, worrying her bottom lip before she met his gaze once more. “Do you think we can rearrange things in there? Just a little bit. To make it different?”

The corner of Eris’s mouth ticked up and he stepped back from her. “I may have already started on that.” he said and her brows furrowed in question.

“What do you mean?”

“Well.” he began and a hand came up to rub his neck. He hesitated for a heartbeat as she watched him then let out a breath. “I have a small surprise for you that may have already required some rearranging.”

Her face lit up. “A surprise?”

“Yes.” he said and immediately swallowed, suddenly self-conscious that it was a stupid idea and maybe, he shouldn't have said anything. This day had been long enough, he didn’t need to see her disappointed — they hadn’t even scratched the surface of disappointment she might feel once she knew she was shackled to him forever —

But then she smiled at him, a beautiful little smile and Eris suddenly couldn’t breathe.

“Show me.” she demanded immediately and Eris’s lips twitched at the excitement in her tone, any negative thoughts washing away.

“Don’t — don’t get too excited,” he said and moved around her to place his hand on the doorknob. “It’s not a big deal.”

Iris shot him a reprimanding look. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

“If you don’t like it or the setup of the room,” he began and licked his lips. “We can change it however you’d like.”

He felt her amusement as her expression shifted and Iris tilted her head. “If I didn’t know any better, husband,” she began in a teasing tone. “I’d say you’re nervous.”

Eris immediately scowled, willing himself not to flush at the very spot-on accusation. “No.” he said. “I just don’t want to hear your whining if you don’t like it.”

Iris rolled her eyes. “Right.”

“It’s true. I am perfectly not nervous.”

“Of course you’re not.” she said and his scowl deepened at the placating tone.

“My nerves are made of steel.”

Iris nodded, her lips twitching. “Of course they are.”

“I’ll have you know, I can make this little surprise go away if I wanted to.” he said, squinting at her and Iris couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her.

“But you won’t.”

Eris’s expression pinched in distaste and he was silent for a moment before sighing and finally, opening their door. “No, I won’t.”

Iris slid into the room past him and Eris didn’t take his eyes off her as he locked their door and warded it. He felt the barely contained excitement as she scanned their room at the minimal changes that were sufficient enough to give their chambers a different feeling.

Her excitement mirrored his own and Eris couldn’t even remember the last time he had surprised anyone with anything. As Iris turned to him with furrowed brows, he realized he enjoyed this excitement very much.

“Where is it?”

His lips twitched as he slowly took the books from her hands and with a wave of his hand, sent them to the table by their bed. “You’re one of those people, aren’t you?”

“Who?”

“When you’re excited, you suddenly can’t see anymore.” he said with a snort and moved behind her to place his hands on her shoulders and turn her to face the corner where her surprise was nestled.

Iris made an offended noise. “I can see perfectly fine! I — oh.”

Eris watched as she fell silent, staring at the corner of their living space.

Seated against the wall, right in front of their large window was something he had wanted to give her for weeks. Something he had terrorized its maker, hovering over the luthier as he worked to ensure it was perfect.

“A piano.” she breathed and Eris’s fingers clenched as she slowly walked over to it.

It was a stunning white piano plated in gold. He had wanted to give her something that was hers and couldn’t think of anything as elegant as these two colors together in an instrument she made magic with.

Iris touched the edge of it then looked at him and softly said, “You…you gave me a piano.”

He fidgeted for a moment, his fingers twitching at his sides and Iris felt his nervousness, his uncertainty alongside his well-hidden excitement.

“I…know there is one you use in the music room.” he began. “And I know you had one before you met me but…” he took a breath and waved a hand. “I figured you would like one that was more private and truly yours that has no bad memories associated with it.”

Iris swallowed and turned back to her beautiful new gift. It wasn’t like he didn’t notice when she went to the music room and played to her heart's content but it had still been in a public space.

This — this was all hers.

All hers and —

Iris moved closer and slowly took a seat on the piano bench, her eyes on the engraving right above the keys, in lovely cursive writing: Iris Vanserra.

She glanced at him but Eris only shrugged and gently slid into the bench next to her. She could hear his heart beating as frantically as hers. “You’re my wife. It’s about time your married name was engraved on something.”

And Iris didn’t take her eyes off him as her throat bobbed. This day had started horribly wrong until it was righted once more and, here he was, making her feel…wanted. Like she belonged.

Like she mattered.

“When did you even have time to do all this?” She asked in wonder and Eris gave her a soft smirk.

“The devil works hard but he does take lessons from me.” He said and gave her a wink. “And I work much harder.”

A small chuckle escaped her lips and she couldn’t help but look away from him, from the way he was making her feel. “But of course.”

“Do you like it?” he asked quietly and Iris looked up at him then. His expression hadn’t changed as he watched her but she could sense his nerves, saw the way his fingers twitched at his sides.

So she leaned closer to him and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. “I love it.” she said earnestly. “I love it so much it makes me overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed?” he asked, his brows furrowed as his fingers absently brushed the cheek she had blessed with her lips.

The corner of Iris’s mouth ticked up as her eyes fell back onto the piano, with her name engraved there, marking it as hers. “You’re the first person who gave me a gift.” she said then glanced at him. “First it was the dagger and now this. Then Lucien and Elain with their books…I’m just…”

She paused, trying to find the words to explain how much this meant to her. That her interests were taken into account. How much it meant that people took the time to get her something she liked.

“Overwhelmed?” Eris supplied at her silence with a crooked smile and Iris chuckled.

“Yes.” she replied and nudged him gently. “I also feel grateful.”

Eris nudged her back. “For having such a handsome, thoughtful, and smart husband?”

She rolled her eyes. “Well if you say it like that —”

“Don’t ruin the moment, wife.”

Iris laughed and her hands reached out to gently press the keys, finding the piano perfectly tuned. With a small smile, she glanced at her husband — her friend, and asked, “Do you want me to play a song for you?”

“No.” he deadpanned. “I only have this here for you to stare at.”

Iris snorted then nudged him hard with her elbow. “I was going to ask you if you had any requests but never mind.”

“Well, actually —”

But Iris held up a hand. “Nope. You lost that privilege,” she said and it was Eris’s turn to roll his eyes. “I will play a song of my choice.”

His lips twitched but Eris just waved a hand and then turned so he could watch her properly. “By all means, wife. Dazzle me.”

Iris shot him a look then shook her head with a small smile and Eris watched as she took a breath and turned to the piano fully. With her eyes full of delight, she said, “I think you’ll like this one.”

And his stupid heart did a spasm as she began playing the beginning notes of the song that had haunted him since the first time he heard her play it.

Everything in Eris came to a halt as he watched her fingers move. Again, he saw the melody and felt the notes vibrate in his bones. He saw the gold thread between them, weave around them, and felt his expression falter.

How would he tell her?

Everything about their relationship had gone at a speed neither of them had been prepared for. How was he supposed to take that and launch it into the sun? How could he tell her when she was only ready for small doses of him?

Things between them had always had a sense of intensity but had she picked up on it? Was it only from his side? He had made the mistake of giving parts of him to the wrong person before, he didn’t know if he’d survive another round of that. Especially with Iris. His gods damn mate.

Everything about Iris had felt right. Even when he hadn’t wanted it to be. Could he trust that she truly saw him and would choose him outside of a bond? His attraction to her had only intensified as time went on…but was it enough? Could he offer her more? Especially when this bond — this link would put her in a position of harm worse than before?

Being his wife was one thing. Being his mate put a much higher price on her head.

He watched her hands move then closed his eyes for a moment, to feel the music beneath his skin and feel the gold thread of fate between them. Did he dare tug? What would she do?

A mate trumped marriage in every way. This was being bound on another level and he’d be damned to give that up when she’d barely begun to trust him.

But did he lie to her? Omit such a sacred truth? Eris had always kept secrets so very close to his chest because the more people knew, the more people were hurt. And he wasn’t his father. He wouldn’t hurt people for the sake of hurting them.

So how could he tell her?

The end of the song came before he was ready and as her fingers slowed, and the final note sounded through the room, Eris finally opened his eyes to gaze at her lovely face, flushed in that cautious joy and his hands turned clammy.

She smiled at him and even though he was well aware of how fucked he was, it hit him just how fast and hard he was falling. Being mates did nothing but intensify what he had already been feeling.

“Well?” she said with that coy little smile that made his blood heat.

“That…was the song I was going to request.” he said quietly.

Iris shrugged as her lips curled up. “You told me to play it again when it was a good moment.” she said. “This…is a really good moment.”

He studied her expression, drinking in the sight of her before him, open and calm, and Eris couldn’t stop himself then — couldn’t hold himself back any longer from tasting her and touching her. He wanted her so intensely, so intimately, he was likely going to lose his mind if he didn’t mark her as his in some way. This need to consume her in every way slammed into him and he pulled her into his arms and devoured her.

A little gasp was the only sound that Iris could make as Eris kissed her, nearly hauling her into his lap. He kissed her in a way that had every question, every concern, every thought she had fade away.

He kissed and teased her with his mouth, his lips a branding on hers and Iris couldn’t help the way she melted into his arms, taking from him as he took from her.

Until he pulled away, his hands cupping her cheeks as his eyes cataloged her face as intensely as though each expression of hers was a puzzle to decipher. She licked her lips as she caught her breath and saw the way his eyes lit up in feral delight. He kissed her again, his tongue brushing against her lips before pulling back once more.

“Who knew a little piano would get you this worked up?” she mumbled breathlessly and Eris’s smirk was roguish.

“Being in the general vicinity of you gets me worked up, wife.” he said and Iris swallowed at the rough edge to his voice. “You have no idea the things I want to do with you.”

“Like what?” she nearly whispered, her heart thumping widely.

“So many things.” he said quietly, his thumbs caressing her cheeks gently. “Very dirty things.”

“You’re a scoundrel,” she said as he grinned at her burning cheeks when she pulled back from him and Eris dropped his hands.

“I am a gentleman.” he corrected. “With scoundrel-like tendencies that I am happy to show you more of.”

Iris gave him a look, fighting back a smile that had Eris’s own lips twitching. She shook her head and finally looked back at the piano.

“I appreciate the offer,” she started with a glance at him. “But I think we need to do other things first.”

Eris braced himself, tensing slightly. “Eager, are we?” he said tightly and Iris rolled her eyes then smiled sweetly.

“To get answers? Yes, very.”

Eris pursed his lips. He supposed this would be his chance to tell her. He…he had many things to tell her but…did he trust her enough? She was his wife and his mate but that didn’t mean those things couldn’t be twisted to be used against him. It didn’t stop her from ruining him if she wanted to.

“You said you would tell me what’s been going on.” she said slowly and he realized her gaze had drifted to his clenched fists. He immediately relaxed his hands.

He certainly needed to work on his trust issues but Iris…she trusted people as little as he did. He grimaced. Hiding what they were to each wouldn’t help. He turned from her, his gaze flickering around their room. He didn’t know what to think anymore. He supposed the consequences of having a wife he actually liked were now catching up to him.

He couldn’t just ignore her.

Taking a deep breath, Eris ran a hand through his hair and then focused his gaze on her.

“What do you want to know first?” he finally said.

Iris pursed her lips and fell silent for a moment. This could be her chance to ask him anything. Everything. She knew something had shifted during their visit. He had said whatever he was feeling, she hadn’t done anything wrong but…something between them had changed in his mind.

She certainly enjoyed the kissing. And the touching. Very much. And the more they kissed, the more Iris felt this sense of urgency from him. Eris had always been intense but the way he seemed to want to…claim her took on a different emotion. They were married after all, and if there was anything about their marriage she was expecting, it wasn’t that Eris would be patient about this part of it.

The idea of taking things further didn’t really scare her. She wanted to explore more with him, especially when she wasn’t experienced in intimacy the way he was. But more…also required more vulnerability from her. More from him as well. He was used to having sex and it meaning nothing but between them…she’d like to think it would mean something great. And greatness needed to be worked up to. Iris wasn’t sure if he’d shut down if she went with a question about feelings.

So she went with a different subject.

“Elain’s vision.” she started and noted the way his fist clenched. “It meant something to you. To them. I saw the way you reacted.”

Iris watched him, and noticed the way the muscle in his jaw flexed.

“Yes.” he said carefully. “Elain…has had similar ones for some time now.”

“But this one seemed…more significant?” Iris asked just as carefully and she watched him work his jaw again before he answered.

“Yes.”

Iris paused at his tone, her mouth going to a thin line. “Is it that bad? That you’re only giving me one-word answers?”

Eris sighed, the sound was more tired than she’d ever heard from him and she furrowed her brows.

“Iris.” he began and gave her a brittle smile. “You should know by now, that almost anything that has to do with me is bad.”

Iris refused to take the bait on the statement and instead, held out a hand. He glanced down at her open palm and slowly slid his hand into hers, his eyes locked on their fingers interlacing.

“Eris.” she said calmly and he met her eyes. “I know this is hard for you.”

He raised a brow.

“I thought I saw it before but…” she started and shook her head. “Seeing you outside of this place. Away from it all. Then having to come back…I understand how hard this is for you.”

Eris swallowed and glanced down at his hand in hers. “Do you?” he asked so quietly, it was barely above a whisper.

“I’m trying to.” she said. “But I need you to talk to me about it.”

Eris let out a humorless chuckle and glanced at his wife. “Talking…is very hard for me.” he said.

“I know.”

He glanced away again. “I don’t trust myself to say the right things.”

Iris shrugged. “I think it’s okay if you try.” she said then nudged him gently with a small smile. “Or did you talk yourself out with Lucien earlier? You reached your talking limits for the day?”

The corner of his lip lifted. “I am a male of few words.”

Iris’s lips twitched. “That is a lie and you know it. You love hearing yourself speak.”

Eris chuckled and met her gaze once more before sighing. “Do you understand how…heavily guarded my secrets are?” he said quietly. “I risk too much by sharing.”

But Iris didn’t reply. She only squeezed his hand and waited. Waiting for him to speak, to say what he needed to say.

Eris’s heart beat wildly in her chest. What did he even start with? He needed to tell her so much. So many things. About his mother. About his brothers. About his father. About them.

So he started slowly. “Things are never what they seem in this court.” he said. “We are seen as cutthroat. A court of many faces. People who live in their forest of nightmares, with sinister smiles and bloodthirsty goals.”

Iris couldn’t help the raise of her shoulder at that statement. “To an extent, that’s true.”

“As you said, to an extent.” he agreed. “But we’ve also been living under the rule of a tyrant for so long that there is fear in the desire to be different. Very deep-rooted fear. Because my father…” Eris paused here, and ran his tongue across his teeth before he continued, his voice low. “My father loves his throne. Loves his power. He loves what he can benefit from his people but the people themselves…he does not care for.”

“That much is clear by the way he treats his family.” she said quietly and Eris nodded.

“His grip is so tight, he doesn’t realize how long he’s been suffocating everyone.” he resumed. “But he doesn’t care. Power is power and a High Lord holds all the power.” Eris looked away from her. “I’ve told you before that there are pieces at play. That much has always been true but things have…they’ve gotten more desperate in the past few years.”

“That’s why you have so many more people loyal to you than your father? Even…your brothers?” she asked and Eris nodded tightly.

“The tides started to turn years ago and people want out.” he said. “Elain’s vision…Everyone wants out of this misery. Where fear is high, money is tight, and trade is even tighter.”

“Doesn’t he see how this is going to backfire?” Iris asked with a frown. “Why would he jeopardize his place like this?”

“Because who is going to challenge him? Me?” Eris asked with a snort. “I can’t do anything until my mother is away from him. Until she’s ready to leave and —”

He fell silent again and Iris watched as Eris only shook his head. She had thought she knew how sensitive of a subject his mother and her circumstances were to him but until this moment, Iris hadn’t realized the depth of this sensitivity. Just how much of a sore spot this was to him. Whatever secrets he shared with his mother, Eris still wasn’t ready to share them, even if he wanted to. They weren’t hers to know just yet.

Eris pulled his hand from hers and Iris watched him as he swallowed again and grimaced.

“If it’s too much you can —”

“Iris.” he cut her off and met her gaze firmly. “Today…do you feel different?”

She blinked at the shift in subject. “In…what way?”

“About us.” he said, feeling the tips of his ears heat. “Do you feel different?”

It fell silent between them and every single nerve in Eris’s body was on high alert as he watched her process what he said. He hoped the answer was yes. He needed it to be yes. He needed her to have felt the whirlwind of emotions he had been suffering with since she had kissed him.

He watched her cheeks color slightly. “I think things between us have always been intense,” she said slowly. “But I think…things have been changing between us for a while.”

Eris nodded, his heart shuddering in his chest. “Mm.” he said. “And today?”

Iris watched him carefully. “Are you asking me if kissing you has made me more attached to you?” she said and gave him a wry smile. “Because you’re my husband, Eris. I’m already stuck with you.”

Stuck. The word slammed into him with the full force of a boulder.

Of course.

She was stuck with him. And he hadn’t even brought up the bond.

Here he was, ready to unburden himself to her. He was ready to let his mate know everything.

Stuck.

His expression must’ve betrayed his thoughts because Iris’s face fell as her flush deepened. “That’s not how I meant it —”

“It’s fine –”

“Your question made me nervous. I tried to joke —”

He held up a hand. “You’re not wrong. You are stuck with me.”

She bit her lip, her frustration evident on her face. “You’re stuck with me too.” she mumbled. “We — we are stuck with each other.”

Eris gave her a thin smile. “I don’t quite think I’m as ready for this conversation as I thought I was, wife.” he said. “This day has been long enough.”

“That’s not fair, Eris.” she said. “You asked me a question and it made me nervous.”

“Well, we don’t want that.” he said dryly and Iris scowled.

“I understand you’re embarrassed with all this — these feeling talks,” she stated. “But so am I! You can’t just dismiss what I’m trying to say because of it.”

He shook his head. “No worries,” he said again in that dry tone. “What’s in a kiss? It’s been long overdue between us regardless.”

He aimed to stand but Iris’s hand shot out and held him where he was. He glanced at her hand on his arm then back at her eyes to find them blazing.

“Stop.” she snapped. “You don’t get to start pulling away or undermining what’s between us when you get uncomfortable. We’re supposed to be working past that.”

Eris snorted. “Trust me when I tell you I have been trying my hardest.”

Her lips went into a thin line and she squeezed his arm gently. “I know.” she said. “I know that better than anyone.” She watched him for a moment then swallowed. “Today was a hard day for me too. You saw things no one else has. Trust me…I understand but you have to meet me in the middle.” Iris paused for a moment then let out an exhausted sigh, her shoulders dropping. “This is hard for me too.”

Regret slammed into him and nearly swallowed him whole at her confession. Eris nearly choked on it, feeling like absolute shit. Of course, she wouldn’t be feeling the bond the way he had. Of course. Despite their enjoyable visit, he knew she was still overwhelmed. She told him she was overwhelmed. It had been a vulnerable day for her too.

He had never been good with emotions and today was testing him.

Sighing, Eris scowled, his gaze down at her hand still on his. He didn’t know if he truly had it in him to tell her more. To announce what they were without claiming her. But he would give her room to process. He had always been willing to be patient with her.

They were stuck together. But…he didn’t want it feeling that way. He wanted her to want him. He needed her to want him.

Like he wanted her. He wanted her…happy about it.

Eris slowly sat back down, his grip tightening on hers. “You’re right.” he said. “Today has been a lot.”

“Yes.”

He ran his tongue over his teeth and said through gritted teeth. “I’m…sorry.”

“Good. You should be.”

He scowled again. “Well then, I take it back.”

Iris rolled her eyes and let go of his hand to swat it instead. “Well, you can’t. You already said it and you were being unreasonable.”

His scowl deepened. “I don’t like talking about these things, much less apologizing for anything.”

“I’ve noticed.” she said with a snort. “Don’t worry, I’ll break that bad habit.”

It was Eris’s turn to roll his eyes. “Confident, are you?”

Iris merely shrugged and let it fall silent, watching him. Eris tried not to bristle beneath her gaze, waiting.

“To answer your earlier question,” she began quietly and glanced down, pursing her lips. “Things do feel different.”

Eris swallowed. “Okay.”

She lifted her gaze to meet his, color staining her cheeks. “And I don’t know what that means other than I like where this is going.” she continued. “And I am…cautiously optimistic about where we can go from here.”

Eris watched her and felt his heartbeat pick up. Cautiously optimistic was good. It was better than stuck. It means she would be okay with more.

How much more though? Would she be open to it now?

This would be the perfect time to tell her. But no, not with words. He fucked those up.

Actions then. He could kiss her until it snapped into place for her as well. He could do a little more. But no — Eris shook his head and flushed slightly at her curious look. Iris deserved words. She deserved the conversation and for him not to distract her with touches and kisses. Communication was key between them. Even if talking about his feelings made him want to vomit.

He didn’t know why or how he had been given a mate but he sure as fuck would try to be somewhat worthy of it. For his Iris, he would use all his words, even if he fucked it up. He would try.

“Iris…” he began but Iris held up a hand.

“A question for a question.”

Eris blinked and despite the nerves plaguing him, the corner of his mouth curled up. “A question for a question.”

“You asked me if something about today felt different to me. But something changed for you.” she started and licked her lips. “ What…what happened?”

Eris swallowed and watched her as she watched him. This was it, right? He would have to stop being an absolute imbecile about this and tell her. He could tell her about all the other things she was curious about later but tonight — just for tonight — he wanted to forget about everyone else. Forget everything that sat on his shoulders and just be with his wife.

So he forced himself to be honest. “I’m terrified to tell you.”

Iris froze then let out a breath. “Why?”

Eris forced himself to look away from her, his eyes on the ceiling. “Because…you are something I had not anticipated. Because you never wanted this. You never wanted me.” he said quietly. “And I am…overwhelmed by this thing between us.”

She blinked at his statement and he finally turned back to glance at her and the sight of his hollow expression nearly broke her heart, even as it thumped widely at his confession.

“Eris…” she reached forward and clasped his hand. “What —”

But a knock on the door of their bedchamber startled them, like a canon firing off into the silence that surrounded them.

“Are you expecting anyone?” Iris asked.

“No.” he said. “But let’s find out who has a death wish, shall we?”

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x oc #eris vanserra fanfic #spirit meets the bones #myfics #smtb #I look forward to your thoughts :)

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ao3feeddestiel · 29 days

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Spirit Meets the Bones

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/hSTzMY6 by Stardust_Warrior Castiel finally finds a house he likes in Willow Falls, notwithstanding the tragedy that befell the family who lived in the house four years prior. Dean is all too happy to help him get it ready and renovated just the way Castiel wants, but then the cold case quickly turns burning hot, putting both Dean and Castiel in danger as they uncover the sinister secrets of the Walker house. Sequel to Icy Earth in the Moonless Air Words: 5030, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Series: Part 2 of Bruised Like Violets Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: Multi Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy, Charlie Bradbury, Bobby Singer (Supernatural), Ellen Harvelle, Benny Lafitte, Andrea Kormos, Rowena MacLeod Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Andrea Kormos/Benny Lafitte Additional Tags: Original Character(s), Murder Mystery, Romance, Established Relationship, Alternate Universe - Human, Like A Gay Hallmark Movie, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Flirty Castiel (Supernatural), Bisexual Disaster Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester Friendship, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester Use Their Words, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester are Siblings, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester Fluff, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Inspired by Hallmark Movies, Fluff and Humor, Dean Winchester Uses ASL, Sam Winchester Uses ASL, Castiel Uses ASL (Supernatural), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Fluff and Smut, John Winchester's A+ Parenting read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/hSTzMY6

#IFTTT #Spirit Meets the Bones #Stardust_Warrior

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typewriter-worries · 9 months

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#where the spirit meets the bone oh he was wild for that one #miller williams #poetry #my upload #light academia #dark academia #classic academia #literature #not to me not if it's queue

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runningwiththeoceans · 10 months

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THE BLOG WITH MY FAVORITE FIC IS GONE WHAT DO I DO

update: lmao i found her! all is well :)

#HELP #moononastring #eris x iris #The spirit meets the bones #SMTB #eris vanserra #acotar #acowar #acomaf #acosf #eris x oc

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titsthedamnseason · 5 months

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how’s one to know?

#ID MEET YOU WHERE THE SPIRIT MEETS THE BONES

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fvrsaeken · 5 months

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"it's been a pretty great day." -for gracie

Gracie wasn't exactly sure that "great day" was how she would classify today, a single brow raised as she looked at Negan. "Just a quick question. Did you plan on your day ending with you covered in, what I can only hope is walker guts? Or was that just like a fluke thing?" She asked. It was an honest question, though she wasn't sure she was ready to hear @fxntasmagoria's answer. "Why was it a great day?" Now she was just curious more than anything.

#fxntasmagoria #&.* g.r. | interactions #&.* g.r. | v. where the spirit meets the bones #&.* these are things people say to me | answered

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velidewrites · 2 years

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ERIS x IRIS for @moononastring 🎶

#if you haven’t read spirit meets the bones yet #do it NOW #eris x iris moodboard #eris x iris #acotar moodboard #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

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lucienarcheron · 10 months

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Spirit Meets the Bones [ Masterlist ]

How’s one to know? I’d meet you where the spirit meets the bones In a faith-forgotten land In from the snow Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow Tarnished but so grand

- Eris and Iris. Son of a high lord. Daughter of a fiend.

An arranged marriage brought them together and beneath all the fight, the two are more alike than they’d like to be.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Bonus Scene

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Eiris Prompt - Iris on her cycle.

Snippets

Drawing Up the Plans - Eiris Valentine’s Day Modern AU

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x oc #eiris #spirit meets the bones #smtb masterlist #gfics #I'm posting it now so I can update it with the correctly links as I start posting.#smtb

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eidetictelekinetic · 7 months

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Have a bit of Dream and his Pasithea in the fishbowl, from chapter 2 of through streets and houses of gods you roam!

Has time become meaningless in this limbo? Or does it matter more than it ever has? The lover comes down sometimes. The younger Burgess called him friend as though Dream and Pasithea might have some opinion of a man who loved another man. Or, more sensibly, he was probably concerned about the guards. But still, the way their daemons stayed so close made it all so very obvious. And Dream told himself not to care, but Pasithea's jealousy of such contact is his as well, will he or nill he. And so Dream calls things as they are: the lover, Paul, he comes down sometimes. His daemon is a deer, hooves clicking on the stone as she follows him. Pasithea looks at her and thinks how easy it would be, even in a smaller cat shape, to leap up and sink sharp teeth into its delicate neck. As easy as it would be for Dream to destroy the human's mind, were he free. Is this your penance, mortal? they both think, the question echoing through their minds in the places where they join and the places where they do not. It is tempting, sometimes, to ask, but they will not give even that much, and as the years pass, being cut off from the Dreaming and the closeness of the amber obsidian sap their strength anyway. After June 7, 1989, it becomes ever harder to so much as blink. As if that last burst of wishing to be out, now, drained away some last vestige of energy, and without it they are even more trapped. It's infuriating. There's nothing to be done about it.

#kate writes fic #dream in the fishbowl #this is a dreamling fic but that tag feels like it doesn't fit this scene #the sandman fic #daemon au #where the spirit meets the bones

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potterandpromises · 1 year

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where the spirit meets the bones

This is different from what I usually write, in style, structure and content. I hope some of you like it nonetheless!

Also on AO3

The trouble began twice, first in 1980 in Pula, Croatia when Lorena saw her first ghost, then again on a crisp October morning in 2014 when Lorena sees another of herself, dazed and staring at her from across the kitchen table.

Most ghosts just want someone to share their pain. Most are happy to share by talking.

Other ghosts, of all sorts but very often young men who died by violence, severely want to affect the world. They want to cause pain, and she’s always been the only part of the world who could see and hear them. She’s never met one who wasn’t surprised, who said: ‘ah, I’ve met people like you before.’

Often, she is happy to talk. In fact, she loves to help solve the occasional murder or missing persons case via information passed between a ghost and her and the anonymous tip lines. But not always. Sometimes, for example, she is taking her daughter to the park, yet can’t help looking at nothing for a little too long to try and guess the era of their clothing. Some ghosts will then shout at her and she tries not to look or flinch or react in anyway, but that is thus far impossible.

For her part, other Lorena, ghost Lorena, who happens to be dressed in the same pale pink nightgown as the living Lorena, does not speak. She watches.

The living Lorena does not speak to her either. Not because Iris is also at the table— she doesn’t know anything other then her mother speaking to no one, and honestly Lorena isn’t ready to rule out the possibility that she too will one day see ghosts— but because, just as Lorena has decided that ‘what are you doing here?’ is as good an introduction as any in this situation, Iris spills her juice cup into her cereal bowl and the bowl’s rattle echoes the room like a gunshot and anyway, Lorena does acknowledge she may still be crazy even if she is satisfied with faith and other explanations.

She doesn’t mention it to Garcia when he kisses her goodbye, either, because it is entirely possible she will go away. Not all ghosts mean to be where they are, and curiously, they can not just teleport.

She does go away.

Or, more precisely, Lorena catches a glimpse of her silvery form in the backseat of her husband’s car, next to Iris in her car seat, ready for kindergarten.

God knows she is open to other possibilities but basically, she’s been aware of ghosts for 34 years and she knows one when she sees one.

She is dead.

She is also alive.

Her ghost walks up to her at her desk towards the end of her work day. She tells herself: “hello.”

She does not answer, but her pupils, in her wobbly, watery form, do slide in the direction of her lips.

“Can you hear me?”

The other Lorena tilts her head a little, focuses more on her lips. Otherwise she is very still. Lorena has never been that still in her life.

“Did you call for me?” Lorena’s coworker, Craig, pokes his head through the door.

She smiles, tight-lipped. “No.”

So, ghost Lorena is deaf. Her vision seems to be intact. So far Lorena’s only theories are a collision of dimensions or a Dickens-esque message from God.

Some ghosts remember their lives very well. Others do not. Lorena has always suspected this is for the best. She tests her ghost’s memory.

She thinks for a moment, is startled by the window into that recent time in her life, holds up her hand and makes the appropriate shape.

Ghost Lorena perks up and signs back. Hi.

They both remember.

Lorena taught Iris baby sign language from a VHS tape and pamphlet she brought at the library discard sale. It’s not a proper language, she cannot, for example, ask herself how she died like she could if she knew ASL or Croatian Sign Language, but it should make simple communication easier then if she had to write absolutely everything or expect the other Lorena to read lips on top of everything else.

They smile at each other.

She picks Iris up from school and they spend the afternoon sticking pieces of construction paper together.

“Did you want me to use up the fish?”

Her ghost self is watching them, and she thinks, absurdly, despite all her experience: doesn’t she have anything else to do?

“What?”

“For dinner?” Garcia says, watches her more closely.

She shakes her head a little. “Anything’s fine.”

“Are you seeing ghosts?” he asks, tentative.

“Later,” she says, and turns back to Iris.

Iris wants them both at bedtime again. She’s developing a cough and Lorena does not, today, push anyone to be alone.

The other Lorena watches so very sadly, her face coming back in expression if not in color. She does consider gesturing for her to glide through the wall, just for a moment of privacy, but finds that she can not begrudge her this, although boundaries will likely be needed if she is not ready or perhaps not able in any sense to cross over.

“One more,” Iris says. “One more story?”

“One more goodnight,” Garcia says. “Two more goodnights.” He sets her plush stuffed snowy owl into the crock of her elbow. “Three more goodnights.” He kisses the top of her forehead and pulls away. Lorena follows suit, finds that she feels a bit out of body herself, and all three of them— Iris stays— make their way into their bedroom. Ghost Lorena takes the way through the walls and is there by the time her and Garcia open the door.

Garcia flicks his tongue, looks into her eyes, waits for her to share whatever crazy impossible thing she’s seen today.

“I, um.” She knows he believes her, took some time to wrap his head around it in the beginning but has always listened. Still, this is asking a lot.

“Are you alright?”

Lorena considers the ghost, looks at her own hand, her fingers splaying. “I mean, yeah. Now I am.”

That does not alleviate his concern.

Ghosts cannot touch people, even her, or animals or other ghosts. There are no exceptions that she’s seen or been told about, and she does ask plenty of different ghosts the same questions to be sure. Garcia also knows however, about that one very creative former teenage girl who discovered that by merging with the insides of Lorena’s car then sort of jumping in front of it, she could almost murder her.

“There is,” she glances down at the off-red carpet that she’s always disliked, then back at him with conviction, “a ghost right across the room.” She gestures in the ghost’s general direction. Ghost Lorena is looking at Garcia.

“Is it,” he starts. “Are they anyone we know?”

If anything, he looks relieved. It wasn’t a near accident or a near involuntary hospital stay or any of the things she’s had nightmares of ghosts doing to her come awake.

She had, in the past, seen his mother, back when Iris was a newborn. Her and Lorena had talked. Maria and Garcia had talked with Lorena as the go between. She’d gotten to meet her grandchild even if her grandchild hadn’t quite met her. She’d stayed for awhile. Maria and Garcia settled things between them.

Lorena bites her lip. “Sort of. I— it’s me, Garcia, I’m looking at myself, right there, as a ghost.”

Several things cross his face. He works his jaw. “But, you’re not dead,” he tries.

The other Lorena may not be able to hear but she must guess what’s going on by their faces because she reaches for Garcia’s forearm and her hand flutters through him.

“She’s trying to touch you.”

He looks around as if he might see.

There’s a look of devastation and increasing desperation on her other face that Lorena hopes she herself never feels but knows in her bones she will.

“it’s okay. It’ll be okay.” Although if anything she guesses it won’t be and certainly not for this other self— well, not yet, anyway. She could still cross over.

He runs a hand through his hair, pulls at it. “Have you asked her,” his voice falters, “I don’t know, what’s going on?”

“She can’t hear and I don’t think she can talk.” Lorena did not see her sit down at the table but that doesn’t mean she appeared there. She imagines her ghost waking up for the first time in her bed, with her and Garcia still in it, sitting up and screaming and triggering no effect. “I think it’s because she’s from another dimension, I guess?”

Another timeline? Another somewhere? She’d heard of those theories but has never considered it as an actuality. Mostly, she wants to know why. But if there’s a warning or an explanation to give, if that’s the reason she’s here, if she even knows why she’s here, then Lorena suspects she’d be able to tell her.

“Another dimension,” Garcia echoes.

“Or something like that, I think. This hasn’t ever happened before. I’ve never seen anyone I know is alive.

And she does look them up, if they give a name. She doesn’t always find proof of death but she’s never found proof of life. That’s why most days she’s at least 95% sure she isn’t crazy, or if she is, then the craziness is divine in nature and not actually a bad thing.

“I’m going to try writing down some yes or no questions, see if she can tell us anything.”

“Right,” Garcia says, and repeats: “right.”

Lorena thinks maybe she should’ve waited to drop that bomb until the weekend, let him sleep a few more nights, but Iris’ cough worsens and it turns out not to matter.

They both get up. All three of them go to her room. When Iris falls asleep in Lorena’s lap she asks him to find papers, a pen, the whiteboard and dry erase markers.

“Write down: ‘why are you here?’”

He writes what she says on one of the sheets of printer paper, hesitates, becomes stiff. “We need to ask her how she died.”

Meanwhile, ghost Lorena has perked up at the sight of words she can understand and is alternating between shrugging and shaking her head.

“Yeah, I— I guess. I do want to know, but I also can’t unknow, or know if I’ll die the same way she did or not.”

Iris stirs in her lap. “Mama, what are you talking about?” Her voice has grown froggy since they put her to bed.

Garcia answers. “Nothing, sweetheart, just some, ah, theoretics.”

Iris wrinkles her nose, both at the dental of adult information and at the unfamiliar word.

They wait in silence for a few minutes. Lorena strokes Iris’ hair. Garcia’s eyes take in every inch of her holding their sleeping child, committing her to memory.

“Wait,” he says, low and hoarse. “How did— how does she look? Does she look old?”

“No,” she glances at the ghost, who’s frowning, arms crossed. Being a ghost obscures wrinkles and sunspots noticed later in pictures from life, but her ghost isn’t significantly older then she is now. “She could be a little older, maybe, but she looks like I do now.” She is, of course, still wearing Lorena’s clothes, although no longer the clothes currently on her body.

“Do ghosts always look how they do when they die?” he asks. “I know you said the injuries can disappear, that what killed them isn’t usually visible. But do they ever look younger?”

She realizes she’s only ever described ghosts very generally except for his mother. He knew the shimmer and the haze and ripples through the walls like water from his mother only, and she’s almost always been open, and they’ve known each other for how long?

“No, they always look how they looked when they died expect for the injuries that never had a chance to heal into scars.” She’s met her fair share of thin and bald ghosts.

She can see him silently curse.

She lets the silence hang.

Iris’ other mother takes a few steps and tries to run her fingers through her baby’s hair and it’s probably a coincidence, but Iris stirs and sighs.

Garcia watches her track the nonexistent movement of her ghost stepping back. “Maybe she’s here so we can prevent it.”

“Maybe she’s here so we can give her peace somehow.” If there are multiple universes and multiple versions of herself, and this is the version where she lived and didn’t leave her child without a mother, then maybe the other Lorena will feel better just knowing that? But she hasn’t left yet, and if she doesn’t know why she’s here, Lorena suspects she isn’t close to satisfied.

“I need to know,” he says. “Even if knowing will make it worse I need to know.”

So they come up with the common ways to die, split into the categories of illness, accident, and murder, figuring the beauty of the whiteboard is that they can write down more specific questions once it’s narrowed down into a category.

Ghost Lorena looks on with enthusiasm.

But before she learns how her other self died and forgets her curiosities, Lorena insists Garcia first write down some simple questions about how the universe works because even though she suspects her ghost has not reached unity with God, she does not know for sure, and therefore must ask.

Future conversations ready, Garcia begins to write in huge capital letters on the fateful whiteboard and before he even finishes ghost Lorena is jabbing her finger through the word murder; in and out several times like tapping, so excited to finally tell someone even if it’s just herself.

Then she points to Iris.

Then to Lorena, then Iris, then Lorena then back at herself and at the word murder and at all three of them and at the word murder and not at Garcia and at the word murder and makes it so clear—

“Lorena?”

She pulls Iris up into her arms without meaning to. Her baby whimpers and with no warning Lorena bursts into tears.

Garcia crawls across the bed and she does not tell him because she wants him to keep writing questions and she does not tell him because she can’t breathe.

“Mama?”

She doesn’t tell him because Iris is crying now too and she thinks he might be as well and she knows nothing will ever be the same again and she knows it’s Wednesday night and neither of them will be going to work until at least Monday.

When no one’s sobbing and Lorena can mostly see again, although her eyes are tired, ghost Lorena puts a finger through the word fate and shrugs in an exaggerated manner.

Of course she tells him, whispers it in his ear in the middle of the night. She cannot hide the details of her pain and supposes her dead self and her living self have a lot in common.

He sucks in a breath. Iris is breathing inches from their faces, asleep and oblivious on his chest.

“She made it clear she doesn’t know what that means for us.”

Garcia doesn’t reply but reaches up and strokes Iris’ hair.

In the morning of her confused, shadow mourning, Lorena hears Garcia start to tell Iris that last night was nothing to worry about. Mamas get upset too, just like how Iris gets upset and she assumes he says it’s a normal part of life or whatever but she doesn’t stay to find out. She goes and sits on the porch for reasons she’s too tired to name.

Her ghost does not follow her, which is great because her ghost watched her whole family sleep last night and if she joined her now Lorena would start screaming.

It is, of course, not actually true that Lorena is normal. Iris will learn that in the coming years, or the coming days, weeks, seconds.

She pays attention to her breathing and begins to calm. Yes, her own ghost appeared and told her that her very alive child is (was?) dead. But actually, everything is fine, for now.

As if on sick queue, a mother pushes a stroller up the street. A little ghost, maybe seven years old, skips behind them.

The only dead children Lorena’s talked to were either murdered, said they were scared to leave their families or both.

She goes back inside.

Her ghost is standing by the calendar, waving her over as if ushering a plane landing. Lorena offers herself a tight lipped smile.

She points to a date, two days ago. The last day before she appeared, Lorena slowly realizes. Her ghost makes a cutting motion at her throat, then points to her chest, sort of spreads her hand in front, as if to reassure Lorena that the thing that was severed wasn’t her throat.

Lorena finds that she doesn’t really care how exactly it happened but does care how quickly and if her baby was in pain—

Iris must have died first, Lorena realizes, because her ghost doesn’t know anything about fate or God or why she’s here so Iris must have died first and during the last moment of her life she must have known her child was dead.

Her ghost signs: good, and it takes her several dull seconds to figure out what could possibly be good until her impatient ghost points again to the dates on the calendar. The day before she arrived and now and the days in between. It’s a good sign that her and Iris aren’t dead yet; a sign against insurmountable, unchangeable fate.

She gives her ghost a thumbs up.

No one dies who isn’t already dead. Iris gets sicker, then better, and the four of them settle into a routine. Her and Garcia begin to sleep longer if not deeper and Iris goes back to her own bed.

Lorena does a little research on Alternative and Augmentative Communication. She comes up with a white board full of words relevant to ghosts. Living with her ghost is a bit like having a new pet. It’s like taking in the shaggiest stray after finding it scavenging in the trash. It’s like figuring out the complex emotional needs of a raccoon, except the raccoon somehow actually is her, and also a constant reminder that she knows nothing, other then the fact that she and everyone she loves in the world will someday soon be dead too.

She also writes down ground rules, one rule per sheet of paper, and tapes them above her and Garcia’s bed. The rules include, ironically, staying out of the bedroom at night.

She does not, however, tell her ghost she can’t go to Iris’ room. Ghosts can’t sleep. It’d be inhumane to stop her from looking at her child for as long as she can. It would also be impossible.

Lorena does imagine Iris, some night over dinner, talking about her other mother. Although she doesn’t actually have any basis to believe the ability to see and hear ghosts is genetic, she always thought, in the way of parents, that her child might be like her.

Her own mother told her not to talk to anyone about the silvery, shiny people. So she didn’t. The only person she ever told for the first time as an adult was Garcia, and that was only because he heard her losing it at an uncommonly obnoxious ghost outside a bar she didn’t want to be at and he found her alone.

She did ask once, in her 20s, if her mother saw them too. She said no, she didn’t, that yes she always believed Lorena, and that for people like her, who knew things no one else knew, staying quiet was staying safe. If she told people what she knew she’d be lucky if she was dismissed. She’d be lucky if it made her an outcast with no friends. People like her were institutionalized. People like her were martyred before they were ventured.

The thing is, outside of the rare moments right after she is told about the car in the river, the blood soaked mattress, the bones under the moss, Lorena doesn’t feel like she has any special knowledge.

Ghosts don’t have any special knowledge beyond their own lives, deaths, and afterlives. For a few she’s met, it’s been so long that they barely remember a time before all this strangeness.

She hardly remembers a time before all this.

The better part of a year passes and they try to adopt a dog, but Lorena’s ghost comes with and the Labrador mix known as Maggie barks and lunges at her.

Her jaws snap through her translucent silver target, and she pauses for a moment, utterly perplexed. She turns and barks at the living Lorena instead.

“I’m so sorry.” The SPCA worker tugs on Maggie’s leach, guides her to the gate. “I’ve never seen her like this before. She’s always been friendly.”

Iris buries her face in Lorena’s hip.

“Not everyone can get along,” Garcia reassures.

They get a hamster instead.

Ghost Lorena grows bolder and experiments with her non-body. She messes around, half stomps through the floor then pulls herself back up. She punches perfectly nice strangers in the face just to get a reaction out of her living counterpart.

Lorena watches herself silently cackle that day in the coffee shop. She wants her ghost to heal, but also to be happy, whatever that means for her.

She can’t feel it when ghosts touch or move through her. Nothing. No coldness. Not even a twinge. She used to think there was something small there, a sensation like tickling, goosebumps almost. But this feeling, when it exists, is supplied by her subconscious. The matter is settled for her one evening when she is cooking dinner, and she glances down to see a silver hand with splayed fingers sticking out of her abdomen.

She gasps like she’s been stabbed, drops her spatula and burns herself.

She yells at her ghost, not that it does literally anything. But she does not stay mad for long, because it’s all exactly what she would have done in that position. And she writes it down, the fact that she really didn’t feel anything, because had the roles been revered she’d want to know.

Her ghost continues to pull pranks using her inability to manipulate objects, but to her credit, exercises better judgment most of the time.

The routines work. Anything can become normal.

The hamster grows old and Iris grows taller. Lorena and Garcia watch her grow. Lorena’s ghost watches her grow, too. She isn’t fated to die at five and life goes on.

One evening, as Lorena is folding laundry, her ghost stands by the whiteboard and shoves a finger through the word go. She then makes a movement with her hands that Lorena can’t decipher.

She shrugs and shakes her head, mouths her lack of comprehension.

Ghost Lorena jumps and flaps her arms like wings. For several seconds, Lorena thinks her ghost is telling her she’s about to cross over. That’s fine. That’s great. Lorena figured and hoped that she would be ready and able eventually, but grief surprises her, twinges in her midsection.

Frustrated, her ghost changes her gesture, more clearly mimics a plane.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Lorena says out loud.

Ghost Lorena signs: more. More words. Lorena learns after several minutes that her ghost plans to visit Alaska for an as-yet-unknown length of time. She may go elsewhere, too, but then she’s coming back.

Lorena has never wanted what little ghosts have, except for right now, at the thought of not being bothered by cramped airplanes, of riding the wing of the plane over Alaska, of walking right through TSA, invisible and invincible.

With a pink marker in big letters she writes: I am so happy for you!

Her ghost leaves, and comes back, and leaves and returns again, and tells Lorena as much as she can about her trips. It isn’t life. Lorena is not informed of any epic ghost love stories. But it is something. It’s what her ghost needs, and she seems sort of happy, certainly less burdened, as time goes on.

Years pass in that way, four since her ghost arrived, and one morning in late summer she wakes up and finds her ghost gone.

She’s stringent about communication, has never been gone more then a few hours without telling Lorena first.

She guesses, senses the permanence of her absence, and although she expected to get a goodbye like with Maria, she’s at peace with it.

Except Garcia isn’t in bed when she wakes up. He didn’t leave a note. She calls him, expects to find out he needed to go into work early even as her anxiety worsens.

He isn’t at work. He isn’t dying of a brain bleed at he bottom of the basement stairs.

The neighbors didn’t see him leave the house.

#timeless #lorynn #lorena flynn #garcia flynn #iris flynn #fanfiction #my fanfic tag #fic: where the spirit meets the bones #this was inspired by reading the dead romantics #(which i don’t really recommend; it was just okay)#i wrote the first draft on impulse in more or less one session #and held back when editing in order to preserve the dashed off style #quite a different writing experience for me

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moononastring · 2 years

Text

Spirit Meets the Bones XX

Find it all here.

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama Please Note: This chapter will contain physical violence with some implied language that may be found triggering.

Annoyance was all Eris felt when he opened his door to find his stupid brother, Finn leaning against the doorframe with a smug smile. Finn had been born with the heart of a warrior and had been the first of his brothers to pick up a sword and never look back since his youth. It still didn’t stop Eris from wanting to punch him in the face as Finn ran a hand through his short flaming red hair, his broad shoulders filling up the doorway.

“Brother.” Finn said and Eris immediately scowled.

“Whatever it is, no.”

His brother snorted and attempted to step inside but slammed into Eris’s shield and it was Eris’s turn to smile smugly at Finn’s scowl.

“Really?”

“Really.” Eris confirmed. “Goodbye.”

Finn’s hand flew out, halting Eris’s attempt to close the door once more, his expression darkening. “We need to talk.”

“And you choose now? So late in the evening?”

“You’ve been gone all day with your pretty little wife, brother,” Finn said and Eris’s eyes narrowed. “When else was I supposed to reach you?”

“Whatever it is, tomorrow.” Eris said flatly and again, aimed to close the door but Finn’s hand stood firm.

“You think I’d be here if it wasn’t something we needed to talk about today?” Finn snapped and Eris ran his tongue over his teeth, praying he didn’t break his brother’s hand on the door. He did not want Finn here. He did not want Finn anywhere near his bedroom, much less near Iris who he sensed was walking towards them.

“What is this about?” he demanded but Finn’s eyes had flickered to behind Eris and he turned with a frown to find Iris standing a few feet away.

“Ah, my sister-in-law.” Finn crooned and Eris turned back to his brother, his expression full of contempt. “So nice to finally meet you through this very extensive shield in place.”

Irrational anger surged through his whole body at the stupid smile Finn aimed towards Iris and if he didn’t take a deep breath, Eris would be inclined to potentially murder another one of his brothers in one day. “Don’t speak to my wife.”

Iris stopped next to Eris, a hand reaching out to gently touch his arm, her gaze locked on Finn. “With so many people eager to be friendly, an extensive shield seems like a necessary addition with the furniture,” she said dryly as she squeezed his arm. Eris spared her a small glance, his lips almost twitching at her response but instead, kept his focus on his brother, his expression bland.

“Iris, you know of Finn. Finn, you know of my wife.” he said, his tone sardonic.

Finn’s gaze had fallen to where Iris’s hand rested on Eris’s arm then up to Eris’s face, a small smile blooming that Eris didn’t like one bit.

“She’s funny.” Finn said, his gaze darting between the two. “I like it.”

Eris fought not to glare at his brother and forced an eye roll. “Well, unlike it.”

Ignoring Eris, Finn smiled at Iris. “We should definitely spend some time together, Iris. I can tell you all the things no one has already told you about my brother.”

Eris let out a quiet breath and Iris squeezed his arm again. He didn’t glance at her, wouldn’t give Finn the satisfaction, and willed the murderous feeling in his chest to calm as he gave his brother another blank stare. “She’s not interested in spending time with you. Leave.”

Finn’s expression shifted into wicked amusement as his gaze flickered between the two of them again.

“Do you always let your husband speak for you, Iris? From what I’ve heard, you’ve got quite the tongue on you and that’s why Eris keeps you so close.” he said and Eris felt his body tense, his vision going red at the innuendo behind his brother’s words but then his heart stuttered as he heard the words again. It was impossible that Finn had picked up on their bond —

He took one step towards his brother but Iris had tightened her grip on his arm as she stepped closer to him and Eris flashed her a look.

“When it comes to sifting between people who deserve to have a conversation with me and those who don’t, I trust my husband’s judgment,” she said, the pleasant smile on her face edged in violence. “After all, he knows you all better than I do. I’d rather not waste time on people who barely deserve to breathe, much less speak to me.”

Finn blinked in surprise then let out a low laugh. “Such a polite way to tell me to go fuck myself.”

“I have no idea what you could possibly mean.” Iris said pleasantly and Eris finally looked away from her and the hand gripping the folds of her dress — the folds too close to her favorite weapon.

“She has no qualms telling you to go fuck yourself if she wanted to and neither do I.” Eris said and Finn glanced at his brother with a small smile. “So go fuck yourself and stop talking to my wife.”

“So possessive, brother.” his brother replied. “I’m only trying to be welcoming even though it’s two months too late.”

Iris glanced at Eris and he marked her expression, the tug on his ribcage drawing him into her. He could see her curiosity about Finn and while he wanted her to know him, not yet. Not like this. He let his gaze scan her face once more then turned back to his brother.

“Still too soon. Go wait in my office.” he said and promptly shut the door.

A moment of silence passed between them and Iris’s brows rose in amusement at Eris’s intense gaze. “Well. That was subtle.”

But Eris could only look at his pretty, pretty wife. They hadn’t finished their conversation. There were many truths he needed to spill and would. But it seemed fate would have them wait a little longer for him to claim her fully. For now…

Eris closed the space between them. His hand cupped the back of her neck and pulled her into him until they shared a breath. A smirk bloomed on his face as her breath stuttered and her eyes widened. He was being incredibly foolish letting Finn see how he watched his wife but, it was only Finn. They had an understanding.

It didn’t matter that his brother wanted nothing from Iris, Eris didn’t like his gaze on her. Didn’t like him speaking to her because Eris…Eris needed her to himself for as long as possible. Where he could taste and touch her all he wanted. He didn’t even want anyone scenting her and while this would present a very big problem if he didn’t get his shit together, for now — for now, he just wanted to kiss her. Needed to kiss her.

And so he did, his thumb caressing the pulse point at her neck. It satisfied him to no end how wildly it beat.

“When I come back,” he murmured against her lips, trying to ignore the way the swell of her breasts brushed against his chest. “I want to see you wearing something indecent in bed.”

Iris flushed deeply, her body pressed against his and managed a small noise in return when he squeezed the back of her neck gently.

Eris’s smirk turned deadly and he pressed another hot kiss to her lips before pulling back again. “Use your words, wife.”

“That’s — a bold request.” She breathed, her hands finally moving from hanging limply at her sides to fist the front of his shirt.

Eris quirked a brow, his gaze never leaving hers as his free hand moved to brush back her hair and he murmured against her lips, “Is it? I’ve asked before.”

“Well. You didn’t a-ask politely.” She said breathlessly. “And I’m supposed to be teaching you better manners.”

“Ah, I see.” He said and tugging gently on a strand of her long luscious locks, he pulled her even closer and nipped at her lips again. “In that case, if you’d be so kind, may I request you wear something indecent to bed for me when I return, wife?”

Her flush deepened and Iris had to swallow and quickly detached herself from him, taking a step back that made Eris' expression shift to amusement. “That was better.” She replied, smoothing down her dress. “Your request is under consideration.”

He snorted, his eyes watching her, picturing a thousand ways he could pull more of those delightful noises from her. “What’s the point of asking politely if you’re not going to give a clear answer?”

Iris narrowed her eyes and watched Eris and the way he watched her. She knew there was more to their conversation. More to be asked and more to be said. She knew it was hard for him to share things and explain. He’d been patient with her, so Iris would grant him patience as well. Even if it made her want to lose her mind. Whatever it was that he was holding back on, she knew he’d eventually tell her. But for now…with the way their kisses seem to intensify, with the way he had nearly ripped his brother’s head off for simply speaking to her…they needed a moment.

So they could both remember how to breathe properly.

“Your brother is waiting for you.” she finally said but her husband only rubbed a finger to his bottom lip as he watched her.

“I’d rather stay here.” he murmured but Iris shook her head, lips twitching.

“I’m sure you would but we wouldn’t want your brother thinking I kept you away, would we?” she said then gave him a pointed look. “Don’t think we’re done talking either. You will answer my earlier question and then I have more questions that I will not let you avoid answering.”

“I have no doubt.” he said with a low chuckle. “Wear something indecent and I’ll answer any questions you have.”

“You’ll answer my questions regardless of what I’m wearing, be it nothing or every article of clothing in my closet.” she said and gently shoved him toward the door.

Eris gave her a wolfish grin. “Please let it be nothing. I would love for it to be nothing.”

Iris rolled her eyes. “Every piece of clothing in both of our closets it is then.”

“Mmm, I’ll enjoy peeling off every single piece.” he said, his grin sharp and Iris could only bring herself to open the door and shove him right out.

–

Any trace of humor was wiped off his face as he stepped into his office and closed the door behind him. He found Finn seated in his chair, tossing a dagger in the air and catching it. The scowl on Eris’s face deepened.

“You’re already on thin ice for showing up to my rooms and now you’re sitting in my chair. Get up.”

Finn caught the knife and smiled knowingly at his brother. “Touchy, touchy, aren’t we.” he said and slowly sat up. “Your wife is prettier than I remember from the wedding.”

“My wife is not your business.” Eris said and jerked his chin towards the chair. “You have five seconds to move or the second-degree burn I will give you will be very uncomfortable.”

Finn snorted but stood and Eris waited, watching as his brother moved to a seat in front of his desk and flopped dramatically in it. “You forget that I also like it to burn a little.”

“Not as much as I do.” Eris said with a thin smile and slowly walked to his chair, sinking in it with his eyes on his brother.

The room fell silent between them and Eris blinked when a moment later, he noted that his brother had put up an additional shield alongside his.

“You must be desperate to seek me out at this hour and at my rooms nonetheless. Especially when you know better.” Eris said quietly.

For it had always been that way between them. Their father raised them to compete. To strive to outdo each other. Maim each other as needed and later on, kill if necessary. Two of his brothers had gleefully enjoyed this — the two that were now dead. The other three…Eris watched Finn carefully as his brother silently watched him.

The other three knew to fall into place. Knew that Eris would be the next High Lord, come hell or high water. Finn, Izak, and Emil knew he had everyone’s best interest at heart and knew their father…did not care about any of them at all. They were all spares. They did not really matter to Beron. But to Eris? To their mother? They mattered and Eris had forced them out, had kept them away.

Eris had stayed and took the brunt of their father’s bullshit while nurturing— a term he used very loosely — his relationship with his brothers as well as he could. They each took care of a territory. They each had their own lives. When it came to pretending for their father, they pretended to be at each other’s throats. Pretended they all wanted to be High Lord. Pretended they’d kill each other to do it.

Finn was the brother closest to Eris within the court. They weren’t what anyone would describe as friendly but Eris could, reluctantly, count on Finn to do what needed to be done. To not stab him in the back. The two had a very clear understanding of where they stood with each other.

Eris watched his brother swallow and instantly, every nerve in his body went on high alert. “Finn.”

“We have an issue.”

Eris narrowed his eyes and reinforced the shields around his office. “What kind of issue?”

Finn straightened and fixed his collar. “Do you remember when I told you about Izak’s interest in Lord Marcus’s daughter, Helene?”

“His general’s daughter?” Eris said with a blink. “Yes. I thought we told him to keep it to himself until the right time.”

“We did.” Finn said and gave Eris a thin smile. “He did not listen.”

Eris’s fists clenched and he closed his eyes to take a deep breath then met his brother’s gaze. “What did he do?”

Eris usually prided himself on being able to make his brother fidget with only a look in any other instance except now. Instead, he braced himself.

Finn worked his jaw for a moment then quietly, “He married her in the dead of the night before anyone could stop him. She is now officially a Vanserra.”

A tense silence filled the room and Eris closed his eyes, taking another deep breath as he slowly clenched both of his fists. Of all the stupid things his brothers could do…

“I’m going to kill him.” he swore.

Finn’s chuckle was dry. “I told him you would and that I would pitch in but…” he paused and waved a hand with a grimace. “He…loves her. You know he’s been in love with her for years.”

“Of course.” Eris said with a snort and let out a noise of distaste. “Loves her enough to condemn her to this fucken family.”

Finn grunted in agreement. “Her father isn’t thrilled about it either but he is loyal to Izak. And to you. Despite his reservations, he is honored. He knows she’ll be taken care of.”

“Will she?” Eris hissed. “Izak has lost his mind if he thinks father won’t snap her neck and his for doing this without his permission.”

“I know.”

“She’s lesser fae. Your father barely acknowledges Marcus as a general.”

“I know.”

“Father will make Izak kill her to prove a point. He will kill her for fun.”

“Do you think we don’t already know this?” Finn snapped. “Why do you think I’m here?”

“He couldn’t come to show his face and tell me himself, could he?” Eris growled. “This is not the kind of shit that should be kept secret from me.”

“I found out yesterday.”

“How long has this imbecile been married?”

Finn’s lips twitched. “Two days.”

Eris growled and sat back in his chair, suddenly very tired. “That piece of shit. I can’t believe he would —”

“There’s more.” Finn said quickly and Eris braced himself again.

“What else?” he asked through gritted teeth and Finn fell silent before swallowing and breaking the news.

“She’s…with child.”

Silence filled the room as Eris let himself process the words. Process what exactly was happening with his brother. His brother was going to have a child. A baby.

He was going to be an uncle.

A small, small feeling of joy bubbled in his chest that quickly disappeared. If he was to be an uncle, his father would become a grandfather.

To a child with a mother the High Lord would never approve of. A wedding he hadn’t given permission for. A relationship he would never acknowledge.

Beron would kill her and the child just for Izak’s nerve. He would take it out on all of them for Izak’s nerve. Starting with their mother.

Eris ran a hand down his face. “Fuck.”

“I know.” Finn said gently. “I came to tell you as soon as I found out.”

“How far along is she?”

“Barely six weeks. Very early on but…” Finn shrugged, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. “He…he’s happy.”

And Eris tried not to envy his brother’s happiness. It wouldn’t last long.

“Father will see to that as soon as he finds out.” Eris snapped and sat up. “Who else knows?”

“Just the two of us and her parents.”

“No one else can know.”

“And when she starts showing?”

“No one else can know.”

“Izak doesn’t want to deny her or his child. He married her for Cauldron’s sake.”

“Well, if he wants them to live, he will have to shut the fuck up for as long as possible.” Eris said. “There’s only so much I can do here.”

“We’re not looking for you to produce a magical solution, Eris. We’re just telling you.”

Eris glanced at his brother who, for once, let his expression be unguarded. Let his concern show. Eris had taught him to hide that quickly.

“You say that but we still have to plan for it.” he said quietly. “I…we can’t let what happened to Jesminda happen again. We can’t.”

“I know.” Finn replied. “He’s been masking her scent and keeping a shield but…they already live together. Father rarely asks for Izak as it is. It should be fine.”

Eris shook his head. “That’s not a risk we can take but fine.” he said. “Let him know I’ll visit him soon. He is to tell no one.”

“He wants mother to know.”

Eris pursed his lips. His mother would be both thrilled and sad. “Fine.” he muttered. “But you let that imbecile know I’m going to give him a proper thrashing when I see him.”

Finn’s lips twitched and he nodded. “Will do.”

It fell silent between them again and Eris eyed his brother and the nonchalant energy he tried to give off. He watched the tap of Finn’s finger to his thigh and then met his brother’s gaze.

“Is there anything you need to tell me?”

“No.”

Eris folded his arms on his desk and leaned in. “Finn.” he warned.

“Nothing.” Finn said with a sigh. “You…you already know.”

Finn sat back, observing his brother once more and the color now staining his cheeks.

Oh, Eris knew very well.

“And has something…more happened?” he asked and watched a muscle twitch in Finn’s jaw.

“No.”

Eris waited. He knew about Finn’s friend-turned-lover, Theo. A blacksmith known for his handiwork that Eris himself commissioned blades from. His brother had guarded that friendship so closely. Until Eris had noticed how Finn glanced at Theo and how Theo glanced at Finn. The day Finn realized that Eris knew had changed things between them. Eris liked to think it was why they had an understanding.

“You know you can admit to me that you’re together,” Eris said, his tone uncharacteristically gentle with his brother. “I have nothing against you.”

Finn’s face flushed harder and his mouth went into a thin line. “I’d rather not talk about that here.”

“We have two extensive shields in place.”

Finn fell silent again and Eris waited — waited and watched his brother fidget with his collar and wondered what other awful thing would fall into place.

“Father has…asked about him.”

Eris immediately straightened. “Asked how?”

“Asked in a way that makes me think he knows more than I want him to,” Finn said and Eris watched his fists. “I met with him to give him updates and he seemed more aggravated than usual. Do you think he knows?”

“I think that has more to do with me beating the shit out of my father-in-law than you,” Eris said calmly and Finn gave him an incredulous look but Eris waved a hand. “The only thing he knows is that I commission from him and that you two are close friends.”

“You’re seriously not going to elaborate more on the father-in-law thing?”

“No,” Eris replied and folded his hands on his desk. “As I said, he’s aware you two are friendly and nothing more.”

“He said the word ‘friends’ like it was a disease,” Finn said through clenched teeth. “I know he would never accept us so I won’t bother telling him or trying to convince him but if he comes near him I — I —”

“He won’t.” Eris said firmly and Finn swallowed. “I’ll redirect his attention.”

Like he always did and would continue to do. Except now…

Eris ran a hand through his hair, his mind drifting back to Iris waiting for him. His wife. His mate. His mate that still didn’t know she was his mate.

The urge to stab himself was growing stronger.

He felt Finn’s gaze on him and narrowed his eyes toward him. Finn only gave him a small smirk.

“What.”

“You seem to like your wife.” Finn said carefully.

Eris let them sit in silence for a moment, watching him and debating. They had an understanding, sure. But…

“She’s acceptable.”

Finn snorted and Eris’s expression turned thunderous.

“Acceptable,” Finn repeated with a laugh and Eris’s expression flattened. “You let her touch you in front of me. I’d say she’s more than acceptable.”

“She’s my wife.” he snapped. “Touching is part of the deal.”

“Mmm.” Finn said with a knowing smile. “If you say so, brother.”

“I do say so. Stop talking about my wife.”

“Let me spend time with her then.” his brother asked and had the audacity to give him a cheeky grin. “That way I’ll talk to her and not have to talk to you.”

“No.” he said calmly.

“Oh, come on! Mother adores her, I’m sure she’s a delight.”

“She’s none of your business. End of discussion.” Eris stated and looked Finn straight in the eye. “And if you speak to my wife with innuendos like that again, she’ll punch you in the face.”

“Oh, she’ll punch me in the face?

“Or stab you. She does like her knife.”

Finn’s brows rose and let out a little snort. “I thought she was a dainty little wallflower.”

Eris let a beat of silence pass before giving Finn a pointed look and saying, “We pretend how we need to. We do live here.” He waved a hand. “You have something else to say. Stop deflecting and spit it out.”

His brother’s expression sobered at the reminder and then Finn let out a sigh. “Father has asked for you. I don’t think it bodes well.”

Eris rolled his eyes. “When does it ever bode well for me.” he muttered and tapped his fingers on the desk. “He knew I would be out. He can wait until tomorrow.”

“I don’t think that’s wise.” Finn said carefully and Eris gave him a thin smile.

“It’ll be fine. What’s he going to do? Beat me?” he asked with a snort. “He can summon me tomorrow for our father-son bonding.”

Finn grimaced and paused for a moment before adding, “He wants you today. And he wants Iris with you.”

His fingers froze and though he didn’t let his expression shift, Eris knew the beating of his heart had quickened.

“He asked for her?”

“Yes.”

“And he asked you to come tell me?”

“He said ‘Whenever your brother comes back from fucking his wife in the woods like an animal, tell him to bring her and come to me’.,” Finn relayed. “It’s why I don’t think it’s wise to wait. He wasn’t really asking.”

Eris let his hand rest on the desk, and forced himself not to clench his fists again. Or break the objects that were so neatly placed on his desk. Or break his brother’s nose.

“Father and I have an understanding when it comes to my wife.” Eris finally said. “He needn’t worry about her. I’ll see him tomorrow.”

“Eris.”

At his tone, Eris stiffened. “Yes?”

“Don’t wait until tomorrow.” Finn said quietly. “He should not be kept waiting.”

Eris clenched his jaw as he watched his brother’s expression and knew, deep in his bones, this particular visit to his father would be one worse than usual.

“I see.”

Finn fidgeted with his collar once more. “Now that I know you fucked up your father-in-law, it makes sense why Father is on edge.”

Eris made to reply but his eyes fell on Finn’s collar that he had been carefully covering and all at once, he felt the air choke out of him. “What’s wrong with your neck?”

His brother froze for a moment then his mouth went into a thin line. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Finn.”

“He was pissed off, Eris.” Finn snapped. “And I happen to be there at the time, simple as that.”

Eris swore and glared down at the table. “Was it before or after I was brought up?”

“What does it matter? It’s not like it was your fault.” Finn asked quietly then reconfirmed, “It’s not.”

“What about mother?”

“She wasn’t there. I saw her after I met with him and she was fine.” Finn said and seeing Eris’s expression, he sighed and added, “It’s not like he ever needs a reason, Eris. He just does what he wants.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“It never does but I’m fine. Mother’s fine.” Finn insisted and rolled his eyes, color staining his cheeks. “Don’t get fucken sentimental on me now. Just…prepare yourself.”

Eris shot his little brother a glare but Finn only waved his hand in salute. He took a breath and slowly let it out. “You relayed your messages. Don’t worry about what happens now.” he told Finn firmly. “Get out of here before he decides to bring you back in for another round.”

Finn winced. “Are you —”

“Yes. Don’t say anything else.”

Finn twisted briefly in his chair and after a moment of tense silence between them, sighed softly. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Eris blinked. “For?”

Finn waved a hand, his gaze flickering around the room and Eris noticed the way color lightly stained his cheeks, refusing to look at him. “For…everything. We know what you do.”

Eris felt the back of his neck heating immediately. This…was unusual. Gratitude between them wasn’t…common. He wasn’t sure how to feel. How to process it. Love must be making his brothers soft and considering the way he had to force them to shove any positive emotion down as they grew up, maybe it was a good thing.

“Did someone poison you on the way here?”

The corner of Finn’s mouth lifted. “No. Seeing your pretty wife must’ve made me lose my mind for a moment.”

Eris scowled, his fist clenching. “Bring up my wife one more time and I’ll slit your throat where you sit.”

Finn had the audacity to bark out a laugh and finally stood. “Always a delight, brother.”

“I do not share that sentiment.”

He gave Eris a wry smile and stood. “You’re a liar, big brother but I’ll take it.”

Eris shot his brother a look of disdain that Finn bowed graciously to before turning towards the door. He paused right before he opened it.

“If you need me, just ask.” Finn said quietly. “I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

Eris eyed his brother and gave him a clipped nod then watched as Finn took a breath, straightened his shoulders, and swaggered out of the room with an expression that no doubt meant trouble.

Eris waited five minutes. Then ten more in complete silence. He wouldn’t think about the slight tremor in his hands or the slight panic that was bubbling up to the surface. He simply did not have time for any further emotions.

After another long moment, he finally took a deep breath and slowly rested his forehead on his desk. It was only in the quiet of this room that his expression fell and he gripped the edge of his desk with still trembling hands. This day…had been the longest day of his fucken life. If things didn’t stop piling onto his plate, he was going to raze this house to the ground. Or burn himself from the inside out.

If his father had already lashed out at Finn and wanted Eris with Iris…he was taking the beating to his father-in-law personally. His mother may be fine for now but — but that wouldn’t last long if Eris waited any longer.

But Iris…he wouldn’t be bringing her anywhere near his father. He’d have one of his sentries stand guard until he came back. Finn could handle himself and Emil stayed away as it is but Izak…Izak would suffer once his father found out. It made Eris want to scream. As if he didn’t have enough problems to worry about.

Eris finally took a deep breath and stood wearily to his feet. He would go to his father, get his thrashing over with then go back to his wife and it would all be fine. Then this day would be over.

They were in the empty throne room this time. His father liked it when it was empty, for the echoes it caused with each beating. Changing locations of his punishment was Beron’s way of keeping the trauma fresh. Made them hate their home a little more each time. As if his family needed any other reason to hate this place aside from having him reside in it.

Eris stood, his expression schooled to indifference and his hands clasped behind his back. His father had made him stand here in silence for what had felt like a decade but neither of them would say anything. Eris wouldn’t dare say a word before his father spoke. His father liked his games.

Instead, he let his eyes wander around the room as his thumb tapped the back of his hand, not wanting to make eye contact with his father. He didn’t know if he could look at him without his anger bursting and Eris was already teetering on the edge today. The visceral need to be with his wife threatened to consume him, especially knowing that his father had brought him here for pain. Had wanted Iris here to witness it. Or likely worse.

His mate. He should’ve told her before he left. But he had been a coward and an idiot and was now on the cusp of losing his mind completely if his father so much as mentioned her.

So, he didn’t look at the High Lord. Instead, he glanced at the large windows and the light of the sunset shining through. It would be dark soon and Eris didn’t like being near his father in the dark.

It brought out the worst in him. He didn’t know how his mother had done it all these years.

“Where is your wife?”

Beron’s question seemed to ricochet off the walls but Eris kept his gaze on the windows and kept his body as relaxed as possible, tapping his thumb to the back of his hand.

His eyes remained on the filtering sunlight as he asked, “What can I do for you, Father?”

“You are not the only person I requested to see.” Beron snapped. “Did your idiot brother not relay my message correctly earlier?”

A muscle flexed in Eris’s jaw, his fist clenching then relaxing behind him. “Finn conveyed your message verbatim, I assure you.”

“Then I ask again, where the fuck is your wife and why is she not with you at this very moment as requested?”

“My wife has retired for the evening. It has been a long day.” Eris replied blandly. “Again, what can I do for you, Father?”

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you, boy.” Beron snarled and finally, after taking a calming breath through his nose, Eris let his gaze meet his father’s.

The High Lord’s face was flushed in anger and Eris knew to give his father a few moments. To wait until Beron sat back, until his anger melted into simple disdain.

Eris waited until the palpable violence had simmered down just a bit then calmly said, “I’m looking now, Father.”

“As you should’ve the moment you walked in.” Beron spat and his eyes narrowed at his son. “I didn’t realize our windows were so interesting.”

“The sunset is always pleasant to see.” he only replied and Beron scowled.

“Why is your wife not with you?”

Again, Eris fought back the urge to scream. To shout to the rooftops. He desperately fought the urge not to ram a sword in his father’s neck as he craved. He didn’t want his father to mention Iris, let alone be in the same room as her.

He stayed quiet for a moment, the feeling of dread tightening in his chest. His father was going to drag this out. “I thought we had an understanding about my wife, Father.” he said and the clipped tone had Beron narrowing his eyes.

“An understanding.” His father repeated with a hum and Eris forced himself to keep that bored expression, to keep his face as bland as possible. “We did discuss this before, didn’t we?”

“Yes. We did.”

“But…” his father began and Eris braced himself. “Things can change, can’t they?”

His fists clenched behind him and try as he might, he couldn’t stop the scowl from blooming on his face. “Father,” Eris tried, after another calming breath. “Is there a specific purpose to this conversation?”

Beron snorted, a finger tapping his knee as he gazed at his son. “Purpose of this conversation? I have to have a purpose to speak to my favorite son?”

The bastard was going to keep toying with him then.

Eris gave his father a tight smile. “I am always at your service whenever you need me,” he said. “This matter seemed urgent.”

Beron gave Eris a small smile that had Eris tightening his fists. “Tell me about your day, son.” Beron continued, his tone conversational enough that it put Eris even further on edge. “How was the visit with your father-in-law?”

Eris blinked. His mind flashed to the panic that had coursed through his body — the panic that his wife had felt when she was alone with her abuser once more and he forced himself to take another silent breath. He smothered down the rage that had surged through at the mention of his piece of shit of a father-in-law and forced him to quirk a brow and pleasantly reply to his father, “It was productive.”

“Productive.”

The corner of Eris’s mouth lifted into a humorless smile. “I’d say Lord Aron and I bonded well.”

Beron let a beat of silence pass then quirked a brow. “Bonded, you say?”

The humorless smile remained on Eris’s face as he tilted his head. “Yes.”

He waited in silence as his father watched him. Beron had never typically cared if Eris had gotten a little…unhinged when hurting someone. Usually, he encouraged it. But he wasn’t foolish enough to think that this time would be the same.

Eris had hurt Aron for Iris and well, that simply wouldn’t do for his father.

Cold anticipation filled the pit of Eris’s stomach as Beron stood from his throne and slowly descended the steps. Each step the High Lord took towards him matched the thump of his heartbeat and though Eris was used to it, had gotten used to his father’s mind games and fists, the tiny spark of dread never did go away.

The tiny spark of dread fluttered in his chest as his father stopped in front of him.

“Do you think you’re funny, son?” the High Lord asked and Eris only blinked, his expression as neutral as he could make it.

“I have my moments to shine, Father.” he answered. “But please, let us get to this urgent matter you called me for.”

Beron chuckled dryly, his own hands clasped behind his back. “Impatient, are you?” he said quietly. “Eager to go back to your pretty little wife and leave my company.”

“It is always a privilege to be in your company, High Lord.”

Beron’s smile didn’t reach his eyes and he began to pace around Eris. “High Lord.” he repeated. “I am your High Lord, isn’t that right?”

Eris didn’t let his eyes leave his father, knowing he was trying to unnerve him. “Yes.”

“And you respect your High Lord, yes?”

“Of course.”

“Then tell me,” Beron began and paused with his back to his son. “Why do you find it so easy to embarrass me?”

And there it was. Eris thought to himself. Of course, his father would spin Bertillon’s disrespect this way. He smothered down his annoyance and resisted the strong urge to send every inch of his flame to tear his father to shreds. It would be so easy. He had been so pent up lately, even with this morning and ripping into Aron, it had barely done much. He was too on edge. So he’d dance this little dance with his father until they got to the end. He opted for a confused tone as he asked, “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Father. I would never knowingly do that.”

Another dry chuckle left his Father’s lips and he turned to face Eris. “You say that and yet…How do you think it looks when my associate, who is your father-in-law, is found barely breathing and broken in so many places he is barely recognizable?” Beron said and the softness with which he spoke made the hair on the back of Eris’s neck rise. “How do you think I felt when I was asked about it and had no idea what to say?”

He would gladly flay Bertillon’s skin over and over again until nothing was left. He wouldn’t even hesitate. Instead, he breathed through his nose once more, trying not to let his nostrils flare, giving his father a thin smile.

“Is that what all this is about?” he said and forced a chuckle. “You told me to give him a warm welcome. I only followed your suggestion, Father.”

Beron’s eyes narrowed and Eris braced himself, waiting for the blow to come for his tone. A heartbeat passed in silence before Beron tsked and shook his head.

“You must not have heard about the whispers filling the halls.”

“I don’t listen for mindless chatter, Father.”

“I see.” Beron said and The High Lord watched his son for a moment before adding, “And you think what you did was acceptable?”

Eris raised a brow. “And what exactly is it that I did that would be deemed unacceptable?”

“You tell me.”

Eris couldn’t help the way his face pinched in disdain. “Your associate overstepped his boundaries with me,” Eris said flatly. “And as you know, I do not take that lightly.”

“Hmm.” was all his father said and continued to watch him. It was a moment before he waved a hand and said, “And you think the way you left him was…appropriate?”

Eris knew his gaze had hardened as he stared at his father but his mind had again gone back to the panic and fear Iris had felt. To the bruises that had appeared on her lovely skin. To the slight hesitation she had felt going back into their rooms after their outing.

The fact that Eris had left him alive was the only inappropriate thing about this. He would’ve cut off each of his fingers slowly and made Aron wear them as a pretty necklace. Then he would’ve sliced off both his arms. Burned him from the inside out. Eris had many ideas on what he could do differently had he been given free rein over his father-in-law but Iris had stopped him. He would leave that particular kill for his wife.

Eris flicked an invisible piece of lint off his jacket and finally said to his father. “That piece of shit walked into my space, a space he did not have permission to be in, and put his hands on my wife. My wife. For no other reason than because he wanted to and you find my reaction to this unacceptable?” he said sharply. “Other than the fact that she is now a princess of this court who outranks him in every way, he is too bold and too comfortable with his own stupidity and that is a problem for me. A problem I will have no issues eradicating should he continue to overstep with what belongs to me.” His expression shifted to disdain. “The only reason he’s still breathing is that I didn’t want the blood to ruin my carpet.”

“Is that right?”

Eris tensed and met his father’s gaze again. “Yes. That is right.” he said tightly and then furrowed his brows. “Forgive me, Father, but I am having trouble understanding why this trivial thing is being brought to your attention. Surely a business associate is less important than your daughter-in-law?”

Beron scowled at his son. “The only reason she is my daughter-in-law is because of her father.”

Eris ran his tongue over his teeth to prevent himself from lashing out. After a breath, he continued, “What exactly does he do for you, father? That he gets such leeway? Such attention from you?” Eris asked with a raised brow. “Other than stealing from our coffers, I don’t see what exactly he does to deserve a single question.”

“He doesn’t steal. I pay him.” Beron snapped and Eris resisted the deep urge to roll his eyes. “And he delivers.”

“You mean those backend deals done in the dark? The smuggled goods you could get with a proper trading deal if you’d let me negotiate with the Day Court?”

“I will not enter any trade deals with that pompous filthy piece of shit who plays at High Lord.” Beron snarled and Eris tensed. “This business agreement doesn’t include you, boy. You got your little wife out of this arrangement. Mind your business and focus on what you did.”

“How can I mind my business when our lack of trade deals tightens supplies for everyone around the court?” he said. “We can do better than this piece of shit. Let me —”

A wall of fire slammed into Eris so fast that he barely had a moment to protect himself, staggering back a few steps. Slowly Eris looked up at his father in disbelief.

“You would hurt me for that lowlife?”

“I hurt you for the disrespect you’re showing me.” Beron snapped and stepped closer to his son. “I hurt you for the same reason I’ve had to beat some sense into you in the past, because you refuse to obey and have the nerve to challenge me.”

Eris could only stare at his father. The male he had once admired and loved so, so long ago. Someone he had wanted to make proud. Someone he had cared about. Until the monster had come out in full force. And yes, there had been moments with Mor and Jesminda and his own mother when the monster had made an appearance, when the dark side of his father had found an outlet for release…but it wasn’t until the nightmare that was Under the Mountain that had warped his father to the point of no return. Until the nightmare of Under the Mountain became the nightmare of their jeweled forest. Until their own court had become a court of nightmares and Beron thrived on spite, cruelty, and rage.

Eris let out a humorless laugh then nodded. “Of course, Father. My apologies for ensuing your wrath,” he said and placed a hand over his heart. “What can I do to amend my mistake?”

Beron backhanded him and though Eris had anticipated this blow, had let it happen, the sting didn’t hurt any less. But the sooner his Father smacked him, the sooner this would be over.

“Apologize.”

Eris nodded, running his tongue over his teeth once more and letting the sting of the blow remind him why, when the time came, he would let his father die a brutal death and feel no remorse.

“Of course, Father. My apologies to you,” he said. “The next time I decide to beat the shit out of someone, I’ll be sure to notify you immediately.”

His father’s hand wrapped around his throat and he yanked Eris closer to him. “You watch that tone, boy.” Beron seethed. “Ever since that fucken wife of yours came into your life, you suddenly think you’re above the way I treat you. You think being married means something.”

“Should I be following your example of what a husband is supposed to be, Father?” Eris said tightly and Beron squeezed. “You seem to enjoy being a husband.”

“Keep this up, your wife won’t have a husband much longer.”

“Your threats are noted, Father.”

Beron glared at Eris and with a noise of disgust shoved him away. His father turned away from him, facing the throne and Eris took the moment to glare at his back openly. He straightened his jacket and brushed back his hair fighting the urge to snap his father’s neck. He noted the slight trembling in his hands and clenched his fists so hard, Eris was surprised he hadn’t snapped his own bones. His anger was building and if he didn’t get an outlet, he was going to burst. But he kept his eyes on his father’s back and neutralized his expression, even if he was moments away from sliding his sword into his spine.

He waited again, the only sound that Eris could hear was the pounding of his own blood, anticipating what his father would say or do next. He almost wanted the beating to start so he could get it over with. He had to remind himself over and over and over again that with his father, he had to pick and choose his battles. He had to be mindful of how much he pushed because Beron would not hesitate to hurt anyone he cared about. His mother especially. Beron delighted in making sure his sons knew whenever he laid a hand on her.

They needed to get her out.

The thought had barely left his mind when Beron finally turned to face his son again.

“You disappoint me.”

Eris said nothing. If anyone had any right to be disappointed, it was him. Disappointment for all that could’ve been. Disappointment for the life they’d had to lead when it didn’t have to be that way.

“Would you like me to apologize for that as well, Father?” Eris asked and desperately tried to rein in the sneer he knew his father had heard anyway.

The High Lord merely looked at him with a snort then waved his hand towards the side doors of the throne room. “No. I think I’ll correct that behavior in other ways.” he said. “But before I do that, you have one more apology to make.”

Eris’s brows furrowed in confusion as he glanced at his father who only gave him a cruel smile. He warily shifted his gaze to where Beron had pointed and immediately froze as rage scorched his body. He forced himself to breathe slowly and keep his hands behind his back. He stared, knowing that the male whose death was already carved out in stone could sense every threat Eris sent his way.

Lord Aron had made his way into the room and Eris fought back every demon, and prayed to any of the Gods listening to help him maintain control. A small sense of satisfaction broke through the rage and coursed through him at the way Aron limped his way towards them but rage — his rage would always win at the mere sight of him. He narrowed his eyes at his father-in-law, who stumbled at the sight of Eris. The Lord had the decency to pale beneath his mountain of bruises.

“You healed quicker than I thought.” Eris allowed himself to say. “It seems I was too kind to you, Bertillon.”

Despite the fear coming off him in waves, his father-in-law still managed to glare at him. “You call this kind?” he wheezed. “I was lucky your father found me sooner than later and sent healers my way.”

“Lucky,” Eris said with a snort. “Or a waste of time because the chances of you leaving my sight with functioning legs are very slim.”

Aron paled further and looked to Beron. “I — I thought it would only be my daughter here, High Lord.” Aron stuttered. “My daughter apologizing on her knees would be enough. I don’t expect the prince to grant me any form of respect after this morning.”

Eris let out a harsh laugh and then turned to his father. “My wife will be apologizing to no one, much less this piece of shit.” he snarled.

Eris turned back to his father-in-law and the savage rage he had felt breaking his bones was resurfacing as the room had heated again. “I thought I made myself very clear about your involvement with your daughter. The moment she became my wife, she was no longer your problem.” And without so much as a blink, Eris’s fire shot out to gag his father-in-law, then bring him forcefully to his knees. “I don’t want to hear you speak while I’m in the room. You are barely given permission to breathe while I’m in the room. I warned you only earlier today and you are still saying things like that in front of me.”

His cold gaze met Aron’s widened ones. “It seems you didn’t learn your lesson the first time.” he said softly and then glanced back at his father. “I’m going to break his legs, Father.”

Beron ignored the noise of outrage that Aron choked out and narrowed his eyes to his son. Eris simply glanced back. Of all the things he thought his father would drag him in here for, reprimanding him for this vermin was not one of them. But Eris would be damned if he let Bertillon get away with any of it.

He knew he never mattered to his father. None of them really did. But to bring someone else into the mix, to witness what happened between them was new.

Father and son looked at one another in the thick silence, the tension suffocating.

“Now now, son,” Beron began in a placating tone that had Eris sneering. “He is family after all. We need to behave better than that.”

Eris snorted at the irony of his father’s words. “My family is a very limited amount of people and this fucker is not one of them.” he snapped and turned to glance in his disgust at Aron. “He is nothing and no one.”

“Eris.” Beron snapped and he slowly turned to look at his father. “You will release him and then you will apologize for your brutish behavior.”

A humorless laugh slipped from Eris’s lips before he could stop it and without leaving his father’s gaze, his magic shot out and snapped Aron’s right leg at the knee. He smiled at the howl of pain and the sound of his body falling back.

Beron scowled. “That’s not what I asked you to do.”

Eris shrugged with as much nonchalant air as he could muster through his anger. “It’s what I heard.”

With that statement, it seemed that Beron had reached his limit with his son. The High Lord’s face darkened and he pointed one finger at his son. “You will apologize to your father-in-law now.”

Eris couldn’t help the cold smile on his lips, couldn’t help how he’d loosened the damper on his magic and rolled his neck back, then met his father’s gaze. “Apologize? Of course. You’re right, Father.” he said and Eris knew his control was slipping, his tone a little unhinged, a little guttural. “I will gladly apologize.”

Before his father could stop him, Eris stalked over to Aron still semi-broken on the floor, every step had flames licking at his heels. His father-in-law let out a muffled cry of pain as Eris’s magic shot out again, breaking his other leg at the knee. Yanking him by his hair, Eris crouched and leaned towards Aron.

“This seems familiar, doesn’t it.” he said softly and savage satisfaction coursed through him at the sight of Aron’s face. “I warned you earlier, didn’t I? I did. Yet here you are, still stupid and still saying the wrong things.”

Eris shoved his head back and then gripped him by the neck. “Your earlier bruises have barely begun to heal and you seem to itch for more of them.” Squeezing tight, fire blazing in his eyes, he leaned close enough to see the white of Aron’s eyes. “To quote what you said to my wife earlier, I can say the words all you want but I will never mean them.” Eris seethed and slammed a fist of fire into Aron’s face. “I am only sorry that I left you alive. I am only sorry that I didn’t leave you in pieces and feed you to my hounds…then again, they would never eat something as disgusting as you. You’d be too vile for even the likes of the Attor.”

Lord Aron made a choked noise that had Eris chuckling darkly. He knew his father was still in the room but he barely heard a word with the ringing in his ears, the pumping of his blood. He wouldn’t let Iris near any of them, would never let anyone dream of demeaning his wife. He crouched closer and spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “I told you, you may be in the High Lord’s pocket but not in mine. Test me again, Bertillon, I dare you.”

Pulling back only slightly, Eris's grip tightened around Aron’s neck once more. “Is that a good enough apology for you, Bertillon? Please tell me so my father here can be satisfied.”

Aron gave a vague resemblance to a nod, barely conscious. Turning slightly and dragging Bertillon with him by the throat, Eris smiled darkly at his father. “You see? My father-in-law- forgives me.” he said sweetly and then glanced down at Aron again, lowering his voice once more to add, “Your death day has already been marked. Tread lightly.”

Letting him drop ceremoniously to the floor, Eris slowly stood and dusted off his hands. He forced himself to take a silent breath, to roll back his shoulders, and let some of the tension in his body go before he could face his father once more. That Beron had allowed Eris to go this far only meant that he was going to pay and pay badly. He straightened his jacket and finally glanced at his father. “I assume we’re finished with this situation here?”

Beron slowly glanced at Aron’s slumped body, the blood smeared on the ground, then back at Eris. “You disobey me so openly.”

Eris shook his head, anger once more coursing through his body. Everything about his fucken father was always about him. He gave the High Lord a cold smile. “It was you who taught me that we don’t apologize to anyone. I am merely what you made me, Father.”

A pregnant silence filled the room and Eris forced himself again to calm down. His own power was one card he kept close to his chest and it would do him no favors to unleash himself now.

“I could have your wife dragged in here and force her to her knees until both of you do as I ordered.” Beron mused.

Eris shook his head and let his gaze fall to his father-in-law yet again, half dead on the floor. Too many people were too obsessed with his wife. It would only get worse when they knew she was his mate.

His mate. That his father kept threatening.

Eris hid the slight tremor of his hands by clasping them behind his back once again. “You could do that, Father. But this day would end very, very badly for everyone involved.”

“Is that a threat, boy?”

This little dance they did had never gotten this far. Eris had rarely defied Beron but to do it in front of someone else changed the game. Made it more dangerous. Their interactions had rarely ever been about anything else but humiliation and power and while he had shown his cards in other conversations…today was different. Today, Eris knew he had crossed a line.

So he shrugged, willing as always, to take the brunt of his father’s wrath. “It is a fact, Father.”

Beron watched Eris and uncomfortable silence washed over them, making Eris tense, bracing himself as his chest tightened.

“You see, this is what I was afraid of,” Beron said in a voice that promised the violence Eris had been anticipating and he straightened. “Not only do you play your games but you’ve made the mistake of getting attached to your wife.”

Eris only just held back a snarl and instead, forced himself to take a deep breath and then dust off his jacket. This was getting fucken ridiculous. “If that will be all,” he said through clenched teeth. “I will be retiring for the night.”

But Eris had barely moved a step when his father’s magic lashed out, halting him in place. Another breath had him forced to his knees. “You will leave when I allow you to leave,” Beron said and it was the voice of the High Lord, the one that terrified his people into submission, the voice that haunted Eris’s dreams on the dark nights.

He was locked in place by his father’s magic, his arms stuck to his sides with his back to his father and it was a position that had that flutter of dread flare to life in his chest. He couldn’t turn his head and had to swallow against the footsteps of his father coming closer.

“You dare speak to me the way you did. You dare disobey and challenge me, especially in front of another.” the High Lord’s voice carried. “All for who? Your wife?”

Beron finally stopped right behind his son and reached out a hand. Eris knew the yank was coming as Beron nearly snapped his neck pulling his head back. He fought back every instinct in him not to flinch as his father’s hand tightened in his hair.

“I thought I taught you not to be controlled by a pretty cunt.” he continued and Eris fought back his snarl as he glared up at his father. “I thought I made it clear that if I find your wife to be distracting you or that you weren’t controlling her, she would be easily replaceable.”

Beron shoved Eris’s head, letting go and Eris closed his eyes for a moment. A dangerous move with his father standing so close but he could already feel the room heating, was already choking back on his magic that wanted to rip from his throat and kill the male in front of him. He would kill and kill and kill. He would fill this hall with blood if he didn’t get it under control. After a breath, Eris swallowed his anger and opened his mouth to answer but his response died in his throat when he saw his father’s sentries drag his father-in-law out and bring in something he hadn’t seen in a while.

His father usually used his fists or his magic. His words could cut as easily as his blade when he was lashing out. But this…his father saved it for special occasions and Eris knew as his heart started thundering in his chest, that his father might leave his wife alone but he sure as fuck would make Eris pay for it.

His mouth went dry as the sentries placed the flogging pole in the middle of the throne room and began setting it in place, only a mere foot away from him.

“What do you think son? Should I bring your little Iris here? Tie her up. Break her a little.” Beron mused and Eris’s heart stuttered in his chest, the fire in his veins turned to ice.

“I hardly think that’s necessary.” he said tightly.

Beron’s chuckle made gooseflesh erupt on Eris’s skin and he tilted his head to give his son a cruel smile. “Her father mentioned something about the two of you seemed off during his visit. Is your wife not satisfying you, son? Do you need someone to fuck her for you? Break her in a little bit?”

Blind rage flared through Eris’s body and he nearly snapped himself in half trying to break out of hold his father’s magic had him in. But Beron only laughed at Eris’s wild snarl.

“You don’t like that?” The High Lord mused. “It wouldn’t be me this time, of course. But there is no shortage of males in the Vanserra line that could deal with her if you don’t like her. You do have three brothers.”

“That is enough.” Eris would kill him. He would skin him alive and tear his father apart limb by fucken limb if he so much as looked at his wife.

Beron gripped Eris’s chin tightly and forced him to meet his gaze. “Her father also happened to mention that he used to leave delicious bruises all over her as well. Do you do that too?”

Eris’s breath stopped altogether as his father leaned in. “Should I give her some to match yours?” Beron said softly. “Do you think she’d like a different Vanserra hand bruising her alongside a different Vanserra cock?”

“Beron.”

Eris snapped his head as his heart leapt into his throat at the sight of his mother striding towards them and the Lady of Autumn was seething, steam licking each of her steps.

“Leave him alone.”

“Mother.”

His mother ignored him as she glared at the High Lord who narrowed his eyes at his wife and Eris knew he would beg like never before. He would plead with everything he had for his mother to leave. He would let his father skin him alive if she’d just walk away from this unscathed.

“What are you doing here, dear?” Beron asked, his tone so polite it made Eris want to vomit at his feet. “This is a conversation between my son and I.”

“This isn’t a conversation, this is a punishment.” Enya snapped. “One he does not deserve and you should not be giving.”

“Telling me what to do, are you, Lady Enya?” the High Lord asked and Eris felt a slight panic bubbling. He couldn’t stand to watch. He couldn’t see it happening again and again.

“Mother.” Eris called again and she met his gaze. “There is nothing to worry about. Please leave.”

“I will not leave!” she spat. “You plan to hurt your son for what? For what, Beron?”

“Watch that fucken tone, Enya.” Beron snarled. “Your son and his tone have already tested my limits today. Don’t push me or it’ll be you I bring here next.”

“No.” Eris immediately snarled and pulled against his father’s magic, still binding him in place. “Mother, it’s fine — please, please leave.”

Enya’s eyes snapped to her son and Eris watched her chest rise and fall, her breathing hard and Eris could see the slight steam coming from her fingers now. If she didn’t watch herself, she would unravel, and then Beron would know — he would know what they’d been working on. He’d know she’d been healing and all their work would’ve been for naught. The High Lord would just find new ways to break her.

“Mother.” Eris said more firmly. “It will be fine. Go.”

“It will not be fine.” she seethed and Eris hated the way her bottom lip trembled as she turned back to Beron. “This is not the way. Don’t do this. Leave him be. He has done nothing wrong.”

“You.” Beron sneered and took a step towards hers. “You are the reason he’s so soft and I am sick of it. Leave now and I will deal with you later.”

“Don’t you —” Enya began and stumbled back a step with a small gasp as Beron backhanded her and Eris felt himself leave his body as she turned to glare at the High Lord. “How dare you.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Beron snapped. “Get the fuck out of here or I swear to the gods you won’t be able to use your limbs for the next week.”

“Mother, look at me.” Eris nearly screamed then demanded again. “Look at me.”

And Eris wanted to die at the sight of all the rage and all the frustration in her eyes as she looked at him. He wanted to throw up at the red blotches marring her cheek.

“I will be fine. Father and I are just having a conversation,” he said calmly. “Then it will be over and things will be perfectly normal tomorrow morning.”

“Eris —”

“Mother.” he cut her off, desperate for her to leave before Beron changed his mind and tied her up here anyway. “Please do as father says. Goodnight.”

Enya’s chest continued to rise and fall as she took a breath, looking at her son and Eris wished he could have killed his father years ago, just to avoid the hurt in her expression. She turned back to her husband and though hatred shined so clearly on her face, she swallowed and said the one word Eris hated to hear from her, “Please.”

“Don’t.” Eris almost begged but Enya stepped closer to her husband.

“Please don’t do this.”

Beron merely stared at his wife with disdain then scoffed. “You can beg me later. After you apologize properly,” he said then waved her away with a sneer. “Get out.”

Revulsion marred the beautiful face of Lady Enya as her mouth trembled and with fisted hands, she spat at the High Lord’s feet. “You disgust me.” she whispered venomously.

The High Lord glanced down then smiled coldly at his wife. “You will pay for that.”

“I already am.” she said and glanced once more at her son. “I have never stopped paying for it but I will not leave.”

Eris swallowed and he wished the floor would open up and take him whole. He wished and wished but could do nothing else as his father stalked over to his mother and yanked her by the throat.

“Father —”

But Beron’s flame wrapped around his mouth and gagged him. He could only watch in horror as whatever his father was saying into his mother’s ear, too low for him to hear, had her face pale. He could only watch his parents stare at each other and rage silently until Beron shoved his mother away from him and said once more,

“Get out.”

His mother shot Beron one last look of disgust before she turned to Eris, her mouth once again trembling in rage but she straightened. “I’m sorry.” she said gently. “I’m so sorry.”

Eris shook his head as he watched her reluctantly leave. She would never have anything to be sorry for. He would never blame her. She had stayed for them and endured for them and he would never let her apologize for anything his monster of a father did.

His father finally waved a hand and Eris let out a breath.

“That was unnecessary, Father. You didn’t —”

But Beron’s magic slammed into Eris once more, choking him as Beron watched him with dead eyes.

“You once told me what happens between you and your wife is your business.” Beron said too calmly. “The same applies to my wife and I. Don’t worry about your mother. We’ll only have a nice chat before bed.”

“Father —” Eris wheezed but Beron cut him once more, the High Lord’s magic closing off his airway.

“No more words from you.” Beron said and with a wave of his hand, dragged Eris across the floor to the flogging pole. “It’s been a while. You forget yourself, son. So let me remind you why I am your High Lord and you do as I say regardless of how you feel about it.”

His father leaned in close as Eris’s arms were forced up and he couldn’t help the hate in his eyes as the High Lord smiled down at him. “Now…let’s give you a whole new look, shall we?” Beron said softly. “We’ll see what your pretty wife thinks of you then.”

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x oc #eris vanserra fanfic #lady of autumn #beron vanserra #vanserra brothers #eris x iris #spirit meets the bones #myfics #you meet Finn!! and learn about the others lol #this is a long boi so I hope you enjoy!#I look forward to your feedback hehe

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