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theladyofdeath · 1 year

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Back to Orynth {Rowan x Aelin}

Written with @snelbz

Rowaelin. Canon. The castle in Orynth. NSFW.

Based on prompt: Rowaelin mutual masturbation fic, but then they just can’t keep their hands off each other and they fuck. But in canon. Not AU. by anonymous.

Word Count: 4,166

A/N: We've decided to take a little bit of time and post more OS! We have a very long list that we're set on tackling, and although we do a lot of AUs, I like that we started with one in canon. We hope you enjoy!

WARNING: NSFW. 18+ ONLY. The following story contains descriptions of sex. No one under 18 should continue past the link.

Aelin stood on the balcony outside of her bedchamber and watched as snowflakes drifted toward the ground. It had been a fairly mild winter for Orynth, but she still couldn’t imagine that flying through the snowy winter was all that pleasant, no matter how much snow fell. Yet, she kept her eye on the horizon, expecting to see a familiar white-tailed hawk soaring through the falling flakes at any given moment.

Aelin was growing impatient. He'd better hurry.

It had been nearly two months since she’d last seen her Mate, her husband. There had been suspicious activity along the northern border and Rowan had led the charge in the investigation, then went on to make sure that the entirety of Terrasen’s border was secured.

Which was all fine and good, but it did mean that Aelin’s bed was cold and her heart was only half present.

The grandfather clock in her sitting room chimed six, and knowing that the sun would soon be setting, Aelin was growing impatient. She wondered if she screamed, as loudly as she possibly could, if that would make him come faster. Surely he would hear her, he’d have to be close enough, and nothing worried Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius more than his wife in danger.

Even if he knew perfectly well that she could take care of herself.

Territorial, over-protective fae bastard.

Just as she was about to give up and go back inside, she could see him, the tiniest hint of his animal form in the distance.

He flew directly towards her, without having to even think about it. It was not his first homecoming, and it certainly wouldn’t be his last. As he grew nearer, there was a flash of light, then he was landing on the stone ledge with a thump. His boots were filthy and he had a new scratch on his cheek that hadn’t fully healed, which Aelin knew meant that the original gash must have been pretty deep.

Yet, the moment he changed, his eyes were soft as he smiled at Aelin. “Nothing better to do than wait for me to arrive?”

“Well, I have a kingdom to run, but your impending arrival was distracting me,” she said, watching him fondly as he approached.

“Glad to know I’m more important than your meetings,” he crooned, pausing before her. “I do hope you gave Lord Darrow the respect he deserves.”

“Absolutely,” she replied, eyes sparkling. “After he interrupted me for the third time, I called the meeting and spent the rest of the day in our private library.”

Save for the threat at the border, things had been prosperous since Aelin’s rule began. Trade was booming, the rebuild of the land was tedious, but created jobs the territory needed. The meeting on foreign affairs was more for pomp and circumstance than it was for a specific need.

“Our private library, huh?” He cupped her face in his hands and leaned down, finally bringing his lips to hers. The kiss was brief, but full of promise for later. “Surely you weren’t reading the texts on ancient battle strategies like I’ve suggested?”

Aelin hummed as she slid her palms up his chest and around his neck. “I assure you the strategies that I indulged in were far more…useful than any ancient battle strategy.”

Rowan chuckled as he shook his head. “If any member of our court were to wander into our library and stumble upon a book of yours, they would be appalled at such filth.”

“And that is why I keep all the good ones in our private library.” She kissed him again, and he groaned quietly against her mouth. “You smell atrocious.”

Rowan let go of his wife and stepped inside. “It’s been weeks since I’ve had a proper bath, I’m not sure what you were expecting.”

“I was expecting you to at least take some soap with you in your pack. You’re a king, for the gods’ sake,” Aelin teased, following him into their sitting room and closing the double doors that led out onto the balcony.

Rowan snorted as he took off his pack and tossed it on the couch, then began unhooking his weapons, one by one. “Who do I have to thank for putting up with your sarcastic ass while I’m away?”

“Oh, the list is long,” Aelin crooned, watching the show he was now putting on. Once his weapons were gone, he began unbuttoning his dusty jacket. “If you’re going to thank them all, it’s going to be all you’re doing this week.”

Rowan shook his head, but she could see the slight twist of his lips as he shrugged off his jacket, adding it to the pile. “Maybe I’ll thank them by taking you off their hands for a few days.”

“Ah, I am a burden,” Aelin said, meandering over to Rowan and fisting her hands into the fabric of his thin tunic. “Are you sure you want to take on that task?”

“I think I’ll manage,” he muttered, before kissing her once more. Aelin reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, which was growing longer once again. She loved it.

“Take a bath,” she whispered, kissing his cheek, his jaw, his neck. “I’ll get you something to eat.”

“Don’t we have people for that?”

“I find doing things for myself keeps me humble.”

Rowan huffed a laugh before disappearing into the washroom.

As the water ran, Aelin hurried down to the kitchens, smiling politely and greeting everyone she passed. After collecting a platter of meats, cheeses, bread, and berries, Aelin was finding her way back to her rooms. The water was still sloshing around from the washroom, so Aelin placed the platter on their table before finding her way back into her bedchamber and her wardrobe. After slipping off her gown, she pulled on a thin, golden nightgown and a knee length robe, leaving it open. She pulled the pins out of her hair, knowing that her duties for the day were complete and she would not be leaving this room any more tonight.

Collecting the book she’d been reading earlier, Aelin curled up on the couch in the sitting room, filling a glass with wine from a bottle brought straight from the personal stores of the King of Adarlan. She sipped the wine with an appreciative hum before opening her book and picking up where she’d left off.

The love interests had finally just given into their attraction for each other, desecrating every surface in the mountain side cabin in the best way. The kitchen table, the wall, the bath, the bed, Aelin couldn’t get enough as she turned page after page—

The next thing she knew, she heard the door to their bathroom opening wide and she glanced up to where her husband stood, taking up most of the doorway with his broad frame. He wore a pair of loose linen pants and…that was it. No shirt and from how low the pants hung on his hips, from what she could tell, no undershorts either.

His eyes took in where she sat on the couch, on the glass of wine on the side table and book in her hands and he smirked as he headed for the platter of food laid out on the table.

As he passed in front of the couch she sat on, Rowan froze, nostrils flaring delicately as he scented the air. Raising her eyebrows, Aelin cradled the book to her chest. “Yes?”

“What exactly are you reading?” He asked, continuing to the table the food was laid out on and leaning against it. He plucked a bunch of grapes up before picking them off one by one and popping them into his mouth.

“Nothing of your concern.” Aelin let the book fall back open in front of her, her eyes scanning the page. Rowan watched her for a moment, slowly eating his grapes, before grabbing a slice of bread and walking toward the couch. He plopped down next to her and read over her shoulder with a curse. “I repeat my earlier sentiment. Your court would be appalled if they knew of your reading material.”

“My court should admire how in touch and confident I am with the idea of romance,” Aelin crooned, nudging her husband in the chest with her shoulder.

Rowan snorted as he bit off a piece of bread. “This is not romance. This is animalistic fucking.”

A satisfied sensation flooded Aelin’s body as she looked up and met his gaze. “I’ve had to have some sort of companion in your absence.”

His green eyes were bright as he shoved the rest of the bread into his mouth and swallowed. “Surely this doesn’t compare.”

“No?” Aelin asked, teasingly, as Rowan dropped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple. “I don’t know. Me and my books have had some remarkable nights since you've been away.”

Rowan’s eyes narrowed, and although humored, they darkened slightly. “So you’ve been well taken care of, then?”

“Don’t you admire how I can take care of myself?” Aelin asked, setting her book on the table beside the couch before giving her Mate her full attention.

“Always have,” he confirmed, brushing his knuckles down her cheek. “Although I feel it defeats my purpose.”

She loved it when he teased her, when he was playful. To the rest of the world, he was a nightmare come to life, a warrior with one intent, an ancient, powerful male who had the hands of death and the heart of a soldier. Aelin knew better. He was all of that, of course, but he was also a male who sat on the couch with her and flirted, who teased her and made her laugh.

Who made her toes curl and her most delicate parts throb uncontrollably.

“Is that all you’re good for?” Aelin asked, shifting on the couch to straddle his lap. Rowan’s arms went around her waist, the most handsomely seductive little smile twisting his lips. “Pleasure?”

“As the husband of a queen?” he asked, one brow raised. “Yes. Yes, I’m fairly sure my only duty is to bring undeniable pleasure to Her Majesty.”

“Hmm.” Aelin pursed her lips. “That’s quite the claim. And if I can pleasure myself just as well as you can?”

A low growl came out of Rowan. Even in their playful state, she could sense his jealousy brewing. “I’ll have to be the judge of that.”

Aelin’s heart began beating just a little bit faster, and she hadn’t even realized that her hips had begun to move, slowly rolling over his, until she asked, “Oh?”

As Rowan nodded, his lips brushed her neck. “Show me how you’ve pleasured yourself in my absence, my Queen.”

Aelin’s eyes rolled back and she bit her lip, fighting the urge to moan. Beneath her, she knew exactly where Rowan’s mind was at. Between the hard thickness she rocked against and his scent, excitement and need bloomed in her core.

“I don’t think you can handle such a sight,” Aelin said, her grin wild and devious. “A month and a half of travel has surely left you needy. Handsy. Possessive.”

“I think you forget how patient I am,” he said, quietly, fingers teasing the hem of her nightgown.

Aelin rolled her eyes. “You’re not patient. You just like to pretend you are.”

Rowan took her chin between his fingers and made her meet his gaze. “Try me.”

There was something about his tone that filled her body with fire and chaos. His eyes were bright, crazed, full of lust and longing. Aelin was sure that hers mirrored his. Every night that she had spent alone in his absence was full of wishing he was there beside her, holding her, loving her until her knees shook and every thought from her mind had evaporated. Now that he was here, all she wanted was to have him inside of her, but she would play his game.

She would give him a show until he was begging.

Still straddling his lap, Aelin shook off her robe and took the hem of her silk nightgown, slowly pulling it over her head until it was sitting behind her on the carpet. Rowan’s hands found her waist but she shook her head, smirking as she pushed them away, back down to the couch cushions. “No touching.”

His eyes blazed as they swept from hers, to her bare breasts, then back up again. Although his breathing had increased, he didn’t protest. Instead, his cock twitched beneath her as he gripped the couch cushions on both sides of his thighs.

Aelin took her time pulling her hair back until it was held snugly by a ribbon, and Rowan was practically growling by the time she slid her hands down her abdomen, to the band of her undergarment.

“Is that patience of yours thinning?” she teased.

“No,” he said, but the word was clipped, his jaw hard as his eyes trailed down her body and rested on her fingers, where they began to slide down the thin fabric of her panties. A slow, heavy breath left Rowan and his eyes darkened as the fabric swept down her thighs and every inch of her was bared before him.

He didn’t even try to hide his lingering gaze. A gaze that Aelin felt powerful under. As Aelin ran a finger through her slick folds, Rowan cursed, low and filthy. His fingers flexed beside him, but his hands did not move. He obeyed the command of his Queen, even as Aelin moaned into the quiet space.

Even the thought of her husband had left her wet and wanting. She could slide down on him to the hilt, effortlessly, but she wouldn’t. No— she wanted to see how long this game would go, how far she could tease him without him pouncing.

How long he could go without completely losing his shit.

She wanted him completely unleashed.

Their joinings after time apart were already nearly cataclysmic, neither of them leaving their bed chamber for a day or two. It reminded Aelin of the true mating frenzy they’d been robbed of when Maeve stole her off that beach. As if the time they spent apart built up until it blew, until it wasn’t safe for anyone but the other to be around them.

That suited her just fine.

Dipping her finger into the well of her center, Aelin gasped softly, watching Rowan as he watched her. His nostrils flared and she knew he was scenting her, dying to bury himself in her arousal. With her other hand, she dragged her fingers up her toned stomach to her breast, cupping one. Her fingers toyed with her nipple, rolling it and teasing it until the sensitive bud was tight and peaked.

Rowan’s tongue darted out as he wet his lips, the only sign that he was struggling. His features were still set in stone, as if he were unfazed by her ministrations, but those eyes were locked on her.

Aelin removed her hand from her sex, fingers still glistening and reached up to touch Rowan’s chest.

Faster than she could blink, his own hand had captured her wrist. Her fingers were inches from his skin.

“What is it?” Her voice was husky, yet dripping with innocence, as if she didn’t know what she was doing to him.

Rowan sounded like he was in pain. Only a few moments and she’d already worked him up. “You said no touching.”

She clucked her tongue, leaning in so her chest pressed into his. It pinned their hands between them. “I said you couldn’t touch me.”

“Then you can’t touch me.”

And before she knew what was happening, Aelin found her self on one end of the couch, her back to the plush, rolled arm, while Rowan sat on the other end.

Much too far for her liking.

He didn’t move. His eyes never left her. They trailed after her fingers as she settled against the couch cushions, her legs stretching out, her toes nudging Rowan’s thigh. His breathing was shallow as his eyes locked on the hand that palmed her breast.

His hands didn’t stay still, though. Instead, Rowan untied his linen pants before slipping them down his thighs, his hardened length springing free. Aelin’s bottom lip was pulled between her teeth to keep from moaning at the sight of him, completely ready for her. She throbbed between her thighs and every thought from her mind vanished as Rowan fisted his cock and stroked.

Aelin could practically feel him thrusting into her as the image flooded her mind. This time, she let a moan free as she began circling the throbbing ache of her clit that was begging for relief.

Rowan’s rhythm matched hers, and for a moment, nothing could be heard in the room except for their heavy, disoriented breaths.

“Your books don’t seem to be of much use now,” he teased her, not bothering to look at the object behind her she claimed gave her so much pleasure.

Smirking, Aelin spread her legs wider, baring herself further to him. There wasn’t an inch of her body he hadn’t seen, hadn’t tasted, and she could see the raw hunger in his eyes. “They’re only necessary when I lack the imagination needed to—”

Her words fell off with a soft moan as she circled her clit, watching as Rowan worked himself. The muscles of his abdomen were straining and his hips would buck off the cushions every so often. Her mouth watered as he teased his cock, stroking the head slowly as beads of wetness appeared. Aelin wanted to lick him clean, to taste the unadulterated essence of her Mate after such a long time apart, but this game between them was first and foremost in her mind. What had started as a way to tease him had backfired in the most glorious way, and as Aelin watched her husband pump his cock in time to the plunge of her fingers into her core, she knew there was no way she would break first.

She breathed his name as that familiar sensation built in her core and Rowan’s jaw locked as he watched her body writhe beneath the power of her own fingers. Suddenly, Rowan’s hand worked himself faster, and a curse of his own left his mouth while Aelin cursed.

“Is this what you do in my absence?” Rowan hissed, his tone half teasing, half undone. His shoulders tensed as his wife cursed again, a string of profanity falling from her lips.

“Jealous?” she asked, but the word was nothing more than a whisper. She could hardly get it out as her hips rolled into her hands.

“How can I be jealous?” Rowan asked, his tone only pushing her further towards her release. “I know what’s going on inside that pretty little mind of yours.”

Aelin’s fingers slowed to a tantalizing speed. “And what is it that I’m thinking?”

Rowan grinned, and the sight had a whimper sounding from Aelin’s closed lips. “You’re thinking how good it’s going to feel when I finally bury myself deep inside of you.”

Aelin scoffed, although it was clear that it was nothing more than an act. “I thought I made it clear…I get by perfectly well in your absence. All by myself.”

Rowan’s hand slowed, until his hand wrapped around his cock but it did not move. “Your soul is mine. You are never alone.”

There was certainly some romantic notion in that statement, but it was mostly an animalistic declaration. No, as her Mate, their souls were connected. There was never a second that Aelin pleasured herself that she was not thinking about Rowan, even when he was thousands of miles away.

That thought alone had Aelin breathing, “Touch me.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth that Rowan grabbed her across the couch, dragging her body over his, and crashed his lips against hers. One of his hands was in her hair, the other on her ass and Aelin adjusted herself until she felt him pressing against her center, thick and hard and ready.

Gods, she needed him and she didn’t want to pretend she didn’t, no matter what game they were playing. He was not weaker for needing her, not as he’d once believed, and she wasn’t either. As he ravaged her with his kiss, Aelin rose up on her knees, lining him up with her entrance and sank down in one stroke that had both of them gasping.

Rowan’s mouth found her neck as she rode him, kisses alternating from long, languid sweeps of his tongue that made her squirm, to biting nips of the sweetest pain that had her quivering around him. His lips continued down her neck and shoulders, over her chest, until he took her nipple into his mouth, sucking gently.

Throwing her head back, Aelin moaned, writhing atop him, threading her fingers through his hair.

Rowan’s fingers kneaded her ass as he sucked and praised. He thrusted up as she rocked and bounced, and they did not even try to hide the noises that were shamelessly filling the space between them, around them. Aelin hoped the entire castle could hear, hoped that they all knew her Mate was home and her soul was complete yet again.

Rowan’s lips found hers, hungrily, his tongue diving into her open mouth. Their bodies were pressed up firmly against one another’s but it still wasn’t close enough. It would never be close enough. Aelin would always long to be closer, even if they were as close as two people could be. She whispered his name and came crashing down upon him yet again, drawing a deep moan from the back of Rowan’s throat. His head fell back and he cursed before throwing her back against the couch and claiming her with a primal relentlessness that had Aelin seeing stars.

She loved him like this.

Completely unhinged.

Lost in all she had to offer, unable to control his needs and desires.

All of it, only for her.

The room filled with Aelin’s gasps and screams and cries of his name as Rowan fell into her again and again, urgently and meticulously. With one hand gripping her thigh, the other fell in that little space between them and his thumb rolled her clit until she was falling into oblivion, drowning in her sweet release. Her knees shook and her chest heaved as she swore, her nails digging into his skin.

Rowan’s eyes were bright as she clenched and spilled out around him.

It was only a few more frantic thrusts before he was following her over the edge, groaning her name as he came.

His head fell into the crook of her neck, both of them breathing heavily as they came back down. Aelin was the first to move, dragging her nails up and down his back in slow, languid strokes.

A quiet groan rumbled in his chest and she laughed softly as her fingers found her way into his hair.

“Your hair will need a trim before we hold any official court business,” she mused with a smirk as he worked to settle his breathing.

“Your court can take me as I am.” His response was muffled by her skin, but she could hear the exhaustion in his words.

She hummed as she finger combed through the tangles. “I guess you're right. I am queen, after all. What I say goes.”

Rowan snorted, knowing she’d never use her power for something so vain, but didn’t reply.

“We should clean up,” she said, glancing down. His body still completely covered hers, right down to where he was still buried inside her, their mixed releases making a mess on the couch.

“We can clean up tomorrow.” He still hadn’t raised his head, his warm breath on her skin. “Sleep now.”

“We have a bedchamber for that, you know,” she teased and he finally pulled back to look at her.

She had only seen her mate look so exhausted a few times, so completely and utterly drained that she knew the moment his head hit the pillow, he’d be asleep, so she leaned up, pressing her lips to his. “I missed you.”

“I missed you,” he echoed, wrapping his arms around her tighter. “Every day and every night.”

Without warning, he stood, carrying her into the washroom, making quick work of cleaning them both off before heading for their bed.

Aelin clung to him, refusing to let go even for a second. She had to soak up every minute before he was called away again to fulfill yet another duty in honor of the beautiful country that they had brought back from the ashes.

They never redressed before snuggling closely together beneath the heap of blankets on their bed, dwelling in the heat and comfort of one another’s bare body.

They remained in that bed together all night, intertwined and connected, and stayed there until the following night came.

#rowaelin #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #sjm fanfiction #snacmc collab #oneshot #tog #tog fanfic #throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #canon #fanfics #snacmc answers prompts

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live-the-fangirl-life · 7 months

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Trust Me, it'll be Fun

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn

“It’s just a spooky clock chiming at the incorrect time while all the lights are off and strange footsteps are creeping up the stairs, in a house that won’t let us leave.”

Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Halloween Collection

Halloween Prompts

2053 words

*****

Whoever had the brilliant idea of sneaking into the decrepit, supposedly haunted house the weekend before Halloween needed some serious help. Aelin.

Whoever forgot to give out snack instructions that resulted in no one bringing any food or drinks with them needed to get it together. Rowan

Whoever raided the cabinets and found an old bottle of Crème de Menthe and thought it would be a good idea to pass it around needed to find something better to do with their time than cause chaos. Fenrys.

Whoever complained the entire time that they needed new friends needed to suck it. Lorcan.

And somehow, that was how they ended up separated – Aedion and Lysandra off to the kitchen, Fenrys gods-know-where, and Elide and Lorcan finally joining Aelin and Rowan in the foyer, arguing about leaving or staying. The front door was open and she could see the steps leading down to the path outside.

“Fireheart, c’mon, can we just call it a night?” Rowan sighed, crossing his arms. “We’ve been here for hours now, it's just an old house. There’s nothing spooky about it other than the fact that it's falling apart.”

“Rowan, we said we would spend the night here.” She argued half-heartedly.

He huffed, rolling his eyes. “How are we supposed to stay here all night with no food or water?”

Laughing, Aelin stepped closer and rested her hands on his crossed arms. “You say that like we're stranded on some desert island.”

“At least on an island, we wouldn’t have to hear your cousin and Lysandra making out in the next room.”

“My cousin,” she scoffed, “your friend is only ‘my cousin’ he annoys you.”

The sounds from the next room came again and she winced as Rowan’s brows shot up in vindication.

“I’m with Rowan,” Elide spoke up, walking toward the couple with her fiancé a step behind her. “Let’s just go.”

“Really?” Aelin spun towards her friend who shrugged. “You too?”

“I didn’t even really want to come.”

“What? Why did you then?” the blonde asked curiously.

“Because you’re my friend,” Elide laughed and bumped her shoulder with Aelin’s. “And I thought you might die otherwise and I needed to see you in your last moments to give you a passable eulogy.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet,” Aelin smiled, ignoring the sound of Lorcan scoffing. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“I did.” Elide snorted. “And you said trust me, it’ll be fun!”

“Famous last words,” Rowan muttered, rolling his eyes and leaning against the wall next to Lorcan.

“I’m sorry El,” she really did look it. “I get ramped up with Halloween.”

“I know, babes,” her friend patted her arm with a small smile, “I know.”

“Are we leaving or not?” Lorcan cut it, earning a glare form Aelin and an eyeroll for Elide.

“Fine,” Aelin huffed. “But I’m doing this for Elide, not for you Salvaterre.”

“Goody,” he deadpanned.

She went to walk out the door but paused at the top of the stairs. There was something that she couldn’t put her finger on…

“Something’s blocking the porch,” Aelin said.

Elide stared at her. “What do you mean something’s blocking the porch?”

A gust of wind blew the door shut behind her and Aelin whipped around at the sound, backing up until her back hit Rowan’s chest.

“I mean,” she explained, wrapping her arms around herself and glancing warily around the old house. “I tried to walk down the porch steps and I couldn’t.”

“What? You suddenly forgot how to walk down stairs, Galathynius?” Lorcan laughed and rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall and letting his head hit the wood.

“No, you little shit—” she whirled on him, pointing a finger.

Rowan stepped in between them before they could get any closer to each other. Aelin shook off her boyfriend’s exasperated stare and tried explaining again.

“What I mean is that I tried to leave this house, and something stopped me,” she looked around at her friends and stressed, “like I physically couldn’t get to the bottom of the stairs.”

Elide forced out a weak laugh. “Ha ha, okay, very funny. You got me. Now can we cut it out and leave?” She stepped closer to Lorcan.

Aelin met her gaze and repeated, “I’m not kidding.”

“I may be a wimp when it comes to Halloween, but I’m not an idiot.” The smaller girl huffed. “You’re really playing up the whole haunted house thing, and you know what? Props to you. You did good.” She began a slow clap that brought a smirk to Lorcan’s face. “Now drop it.”

Rowan walked past them straight for the door and pulled on the door handle. The wood creaked against the effort.

“Cut it out, Whitethorn,” Lorcan griped when the door didn’t budge.

“Uh…” Rowan tried again, this time visibly straining as he pulled on the old door. “It’s not me.”

“Fucking hell.” Lorcan gritted out, slotting Elide next to Aelin as he took Rowan’s place and pulled. And pulled. And pulled. He gripped the handle and used his entire body weight, but it didn’t move.

“What the fuck?”

*****

“’Let’s go to a haunted house’ they said, ‘It's Halloween’ they said,” Aelin began pacing around the hall. “’It’ll be fun’, they said.”

“Don’t you dare pretend like you weren’t the one saying those things,” Aedion barked at her. He and Lysandra found their way back to the front hall when they heard their friends’ yelling.

“Oh, shut up,” she waved off her cousin and tried to think.

“Has anyone tried any of the other doors?” Lysandra asked. “Or windows, or whatever?”

“Okay,” Aelin perked up. “Lys and Aedion take the second floor, Rowan and I will search this floor, and Ellie, you and your guard dog take the attic.”

“Oh fuck no!” Elide protested. “You take the creepy attic, Lorcan and I will take the ground floor.”

“Not gonna correct the guard dog thing?” Rowan smirked at his friend. All he got back was a deadpan glare.

“Fine!” Aelin threw her hands up. “You two take this floor; Rowan and I have the attic.”

“Why are we looking in the attic at all?” Rowan asked, crossing his arms. “Even if there is a window, and even if we can get it open, it would still be three stories up and way too dangerous to escape from.”

Everyone stared at him, blinking, while he tried to find someone to see his point. Finally, Aelin huffed, “This is no time for common sense, Ro.”

He scrubbed a hand down his face and grumbled, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Okay!” Elide chirped, looking a little manic. “We each take a floor, look for anything that can help, and we meet back here in twenty minutes, yeah?”

A chorus of yeahs and okays and I’m going to kill you when we get out of here, Galathynius echoed throughout the group.

“And for the love of god,” Rowan pleaded, “somebody fucking find Moonbeam.”

They all split up, taking a different section of the house. Aelin and Rowan took their time walking up the stairs to the attic, each shift in the wood sending nerves rocketing through them. When they got to the top, they shared a look before Aelin pressed her hand to the door and pushed, letting in swing in and immediately outlining the silhouette of a figure staring right at them.

Three different screams echoed in the small hallway, each higher pitched than the last.

“Stop hitting me!” Fenrys shrieked under the barrage of Aelin’s fists. At the sound of his voice, Aelin pulled back, heart racing and chest heaving, finally shining the flashlight they’d grabbed in her friend’s face.

“Fenrys?!” she hissed, “You almost gave me a heart attack! What are you doing up here?”

She could feel Rowan’s erratic heart beating from where her back met his chest, as Fenrys stared at the pair like they were the crazy ones.

“Looking for these,” he lifted his hands and she saw the two bottles he was holding. “I knew a place like this would have more booze hidden around.”

“And you thought they’d be in the attic?” Rowan asked incredulously.

“Obviously,” Fenrys rolled his eyes. “And they were, so,” he shrugged.

“Gods, whatever,” Aelin pushed passed the blond and walked further into the dark and dusty room. A single swinging light bulb illuminated the space as the three of them looked around.

“What are you two doing up here?” Fenrys shot back.

“Looking for a way out,” Rowan didn’t elaborate.

Snorting, Fenrys mimicked, “And you thought you’d find it in the attic?”

Before either of them could reply, a loud chime sounded from the dilapidated grandfather clock that was pushed against a far wall. They whirled around. Aelin ended up in front of both guys, her fists raised while Rowan reached for the closest weapon he could find and Fenrys cradled the bottle of whiskey to his chest.

They had barely had a chance to wonder how a broken clock was chiming when they heard the stairs begin to creak.

“What are you gonna do, Whitethorn?” Fenrys hissed, “Sweep a ghost to death?”

Risking a glance behind her, Aelin saw Rowan clutching a broom between his hands and gripping it like a baseball bat. She elbowed Fenrys and hissed, “A ghost is already dead, dumbass.”

“Hey,” he hissed back. “Don’t call me a dumbass what it was your dumb ass that got all of our dumb asses here in the first place, dumbass.”

“Will you please stop saying dumbass?” Rowan hissed.

Aelin shot a triumphant look at Fenrys. “Yeah, dumbass.”

“For fucks sake…”

The lone lightbulb began flickering, immediately shutting all of them up. They could still hear the stairs creaking, the sound getting closer and closer every second.

“We’re going to die,” Fenrys breathed.

“It’s fine,” Aelin’s voice came out tinny and shaking.

“The fuck you mean it's fine?!”

“It’s fine,” she said again in that same choked squeak. “It’s just a spooky clock chiming at the incorrect time while all the lights are off and strange footsteps are creeping up the stairs, in a house that won’t let us leave.”

She felt both sets of eyes land on her and knew that if she looked at either man they would be looking at her as if she had lost her mind.

“How. Are. You. So. Calm?”

She forced a laugh, but it sounded more like a strained grunt. “Oh, because, none of this is real.”

“Uh,” Rowan’s voice came from her right, “It’s very real.”

“No,” she repeated, clearing her through and drawing in a breath. “You see, if it were real then you would see a Me-shaped hole in that door. But we can’t leave this house, which means I can’t escape, which means that it isn’t real.”

There was a beat of silence before Fenrys said, “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, and I’ve been listening to myself speak for twenty-five years.”

Rowan breathed, “Your denial both impresses and astounds me.”

“Thank you,” she breathed just as quietly. Glancing quickly between them, she asked, “Run?”

“Run.” Rowan nodded.

Another best passed and the three of them raced down the steps, screaming at whoever was coming towards them. They made it to the main floor before realizing they hadn’t run into anyone on their way down.

*****

The twenty-four-hour diner’s fluorescent lights lit up the group of seven friends who were huddled together in a booth, silently replaying the night's events in their heads.

“So,” Elide’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat before continuing, her soft voice sounding almost obscenely loud in the near-empty diner, “What did we learn tonight?”

Groans echoed around the table.

Aedion spoke up first, “Run if you ever hear Aelin say, ‘Trust me, it’ll be fun.’”

A quiet fuck you followed but was drowned out by Lysandra who added, trailing a finger down the side of her water glass following a drop of condensation as it hit the table. “Crème de Menthe and Absinthe look way too similar. Way. Too. Similar.”

“When a door won’t open it's probably a Push, and not being supernaturally barricaded by ghosts,” Rowan groaned.

“That next time we do this, we better have snacks,” Aelin mumbled, staring a hole into the table.

“Next time?!”

*******

@acourtofsnakes @a-frog-with-a-laptop @astra-ad-mare @autumnbabylon @backtobl4ck @bankerfrog @becarefuloflove @camerooonchiu @captain-swan-is-endgame @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @doubt-less @earthtolinds @elentiyawhitethorn @feyretales @goddess-aelin @highqueenofelfhame @jorjy-jo @julemmaes @leiawritesstories @lemonade-coolattas @llyncooljones @mariamuses @moodymelanist @morganofthewildfire @nerdperson524 @rhysiedarling @rowaelinismyotp @rowaelinrambling @rowanaelinn @shyvioletcat @stardelia @superspiritfestival @sv0430 @swankii-art-teacher @thegreyj @the-lonelybarricade @the-regal-warrior @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading

#rowaelin #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fic #throne of glass #tog #rowaelin fluff #rowaelin au #rowaelin fanfiction #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin oneshot #halloween fics #halloween #halloween au #halloween prompts #haunted house #aelin galathynius x rowan whitethorn

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isabellehemlock · 1 year

Text

a wedding

For @olivepdf sun and moon bingo ~ middle row down. Excerpt under the cut is from my precanon fic, Their souls were knit together (and he loved him as himself). You'll also find a non shaded version for extra details ✨️

One hand remained on Nicolò’s flushed cheek, but Yusuf moved back just enough to hold his now free hand up between them, as Nicolò slipped the ring over the first knuckle, “Yusuf, I - I will honor and cherish you for the remainder of my days,” He lowered the ring further down, his voice raspy as he tried to finish the vows in the Arabic he had been trying to learn for months now, “I pledge myself to you with sincerity, and honesty, and humility.” And Yusuf had been so utterly unprepared for it, that it didn’t even matter if he butchered the pronunciation, it was the sentiment behind it that made him hold Nicolò even closer as he mumbled against Yusuf’s shoulder, “And - And I love you - “

“I love you, too,” Yusuf dipped his head beside his, his voice trembling as he spoke the words that were stitched onto his very soul, “For as long as our God allows us to be together, I will love you all my days.”

“I will as well,” Nicolò whimpered, his hands flexing against Yusuf’s side before he pulled back to look up at him with blotchy eyes, “My apologies for the tears.”

“I do not mind them,” he said with a reassuring smile, as he gently wiped them away, his own ring catching the light of the candle beside them, but unable to look at anything but his husband, his Nicolò, his forever.

The tension in Nicolò’s face broke with a wet laugh, a quick reflection that it was likely not the last time he would cry in front of him, and Yusuf barely had a chance to tease him right back about it - before Nicolò tipped his head to kiss him.

And everything was lovelier than it had ever been.

#tog art #my tog art #the old guard #tog #joe and nicky #joe x nicky #fanart #digital art #fic based art #prompt based art #sun and moon bingo #background is a filtered version of a free stock photo of a lovely Orthodox church I found online ❤️#tw religious imagery #tw religious themes #immortal husbands #kaysanova #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #nicolò di genova

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writtenonreceipts · 2 years

Note

Idk if you're open for prompts but if you are then could you write something in which Rowan has to go to some fancy dinner and knows remelle is gonna be there so he asks Aelin (who he barely knows through elorcan) to accompany him

Rowaelin Month Day Ten: An Unconventional Way to Get a Date month master list @rowaelinscourt

not gonna lie, i ended up writing half of this as soon as you sent it in. thanks nonny!!

Warnings: mentions of cheating (nothing explicit or shown, only briefly mentioned/discussed), holiday cheer in mid-september, slight angst ~11k words

...

The Perfect Act

Rowan Whitethorn had never been one to enjoy the holidays. Not the social customs that came with them, not the excess of sweets and food, not the commercials and ads, and most especially not the parties. None of it was natural. This time of the year was always forced—whittling away will and want until there was nothing left.

As soon as September first hit and straight until January fifteenth (for safety) Rowan did everything he could to avoid anything that had to do with celebration and the mere suggestion of pumpkin spice. He’d done so since the age of sixteen and his parents first got sick. And then when they both passed mere weeks after his eighteenth birthday, it was only natural to perpetuate the avoidance into his own ritual.

And it had worked. Most of his relationships never lasted long enough to reveal his holiday aversion and if they had—it was easily passed over and forgotten.

His last relationship had been something different, though. He’d met Remelle at work on a whim after needing to visit the legal team for whatever reason. After a few weeks of flirtation led to a date—they’d somehow been labeled as a couple. HR document signed and all. Rowan had no idea how it had actually happened, one day they’d gone out to lunch in July and the next they were headed into Fall, apartment keys exchanged and everything. From start to finish it all just felt like a storm waged through his life. Though, really, there’d been nothing he could do about it.

And then September first hit.

And so did the Holiday Shmear.

Perhaps it was depression that wove through his mind and soul at this time of year. Perhaps it was nothing more than his mind being stronger than his will. But by the second week of September, Remelle had racked up a credit card with inane purchases, cheated on him, and blocked him on all social media platforms.

He still didn’t know if it was the refusal to try a pumpkin spice latte or asking her not to steal his credit card that did it. Now, early November, Rowan still had no idea what had done it.

“Hey, Rowan!” The greeting was a welcome from his thoughts and Rowan entered the small house settled just outside the city.

Elide Lochan was a strange person, he’d long ago decided. Stock full of sarcasm and ire, her wide brown eyes combined with soft, gentle features of innocence. When he’d first met her nearly six years ago now, Rowan had thought she were that innocent little thing. Until he introduced her to Lorcan. And the floodgates had opened.

“Hey,” he said, offering as near a hug as could be managed.

The three-month-old baby in her arms had just discovered he had fingers and loved grabbing anything and everything in sight.

“C’mon in,” Elide said as she already walked through the house. The small entryway was cluttered with shoes, boxes, and piles of Tupperware with sticky notes designating the proper owners. “Sorry it’s a mess.”

Mess wasn’t the word Rowan would use. Especially not when Elide had only been cleared for heavier work after the baby being born. The pregnancy and labor had been difficult and Rowan had taken on several of Lorcan’s responsibilities at work so he could be with Elide throughout the recovery.

The house was lived in—pictures decorated the walls highlighting a whirlwind romance that had Lorcan and Elide meeting, dating, and marrying all within a year. There were university degrees interspersed with awards from various organizations as well. Elide’s humanitarian work for a non-profit had been her greatest accomplishment.

“Elide, you just had a baby,” Rowan said, following her to the kitchen. “Relax.”

She shot him a look over her shoulder as she kept a hand on Tavish’s head. “I’ll relax when I want to, thank-you.”

Rowan sighed. No, Elide would relax when she’d inevitably collapse from trying to do too much too soon. And since Lorcan was still at work getting caught up on a few projects, Rowan was left to convince the woman to sit down and let him order out.

“Can I at least hold my godson?” he asked. They entered the kitchen—stacked with even more Tupperware to find its rightful owner. A pressure cooker was set out with a myriad of ingredients ready to be added.

“Fine,” Elide relented. She passed the baby over and Rowan took him.

Tavish had been born five weeks early with his fair share of medical issues. But over the last few weeks and months, the little guy had gained his strength and was now home where he belonged. He was still tiny and wrinkly and a strange sight to see.

“Hey bud,” Rowan murmured. He kept the baby tucked to his side, fully supported. Elide had gone through several tutorials of how to properly hold a baby. He’d graduated three times over before being able to hold the baby for the first time. Fenrys was in retraining.

Tavish blinked wide, black eyes at him and snatched a hand out towards Rowan’s face.

As Rowan paced the kitchen, Elide muttered curses at the pressure cooker.

“Why don’t I order take out,” Rowan suggested casually. He grabbed a burp rag from the table as Tavish spit up.

Elide glared at him. “I can make dinner perfectly fine. I don’t need more casserole dishes, I don’t need more pity brownies, and I don’t need—”

The pressure cooker let out a loud shriek that made Tavish whimper. Rowan shifted and Tavish settled, but the baby passed his eyes about in search of the miserable noise.

“I hate this thing,” Elide muttered.

“There’s a Thai place right down the street,” Rowan said, “best phad-thai in the city.”

Elide scowled at him, but Rowan could see the tiredness to her eyes and how she was already eyeing the nearest chair.

“I hate you,” she said.

“I know,” Rowan said. He passed back her baby and took his phone out of his pocket.

Forty minutes later, the order had been placed and delivered, Tavish was in a milk coma after a feeding, and Rowan sat at the table trying to beat her at a round of cribbage. Given that Elide had just rounded up fifteen points with a damn queen and set of fives, it was not going well.

“You’re terrible at this,” she told him.

“Yeah, yeah.”

He’d gotten in the habit of coming to the Lochan household even before Tavish had been born. Lorcan was one of his oldest friends and Elide was always eager to open her house to others. Plus, if there was anyone who hated the holidays as much as Rowan it was Lorcan. Though, by the sight of a few Christmas decorations oozing out of a box in the living room Elide was slowly chipping away at Lorcan’s brooding persona.

“I promise I won’t make you sing Christmas carols to Tavish when he can’t sleep,” Elide said, following his gaze to the decorations.

“It’s barely the second week of November, Elide,” Rowan groused, “who wants to be listening to Rudolph this early?”

“Grumpy,” Elide mused. On the floor beside them, Tavish slept in a little hammock style swing that Elide gently swayed with her foot every once in a while. “But you should be warned, this is Tavish’s first Thanksgiving and Christmas, I will be pulling out all the stops for him.”

“Of course you are,” Rowan said. He reshuffled the deck of cards and dealt the next hand.

“You would make an excellent Christmas elf,” Elide said. Humor burned in her eyes as he scowled.

“Remind me why I bother visiting you anymore?” he asked.

“Because you like me,” Elide declared as the front door opened and Lorcan finally arrived home.

Lorcan quietly entered the house, gave Elide a kiss, knelt before Tavish’s little swing, and then grabbed his own plate of food.

“What are you doing here?” he asked Rowan with narrowed eyes.

Rowan scowled. “I can’t visit my friends?”

“Hm,” Lorcan grunted.

“He didn’t bring any more casserole dishes, he can come whenever he wants,” Elide told her husband.

Lorcan snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. When are we getting rid of all that stuff?”

“Well, half of it is from Aelin,” Elide replied. She took a bite of noodles and shrugged. “I think she’s stopping by later tonight. She even offered to return the other containers. Do you remember Aelin, Rowan? She was my maid of honor.”

“You hated her,” Lorcan supplied.

It had been two years since the wedding and in all honesty, Rowan had spent most of it drunk when at all possible. Though, he’d been best man and…he remembered walking down the aisle with the woman who had promised him that if Lorcan did anything to hurt Elide she’d murder Lorcan, then him.

“The blonde with the death threat?”

“See?” Lorcan said, he stood to refill waters and grab napkins, “she’s demonic, ‘Lide.”

“And I love her for it.” Elide smiled at her husband. It was a happy, soft look that Elide only had for Lorcan and now Tavish.

Ever since knowing Lorcan, Rowan had never seen anyone react to him the way Elide did. Hell, the way Lorcan had changed and grown since knowing Elide too--Rowan honestly couldn’t see one without the other.

“How was work?” Elide asked Lorcan.

The man winced and cast a look at Rowan. “Well.”

“Oh, hell,” Rowan cursed. He knew what was coming. It had been something he’d been avoiding for weeks now.

In his little hammock, Tavish let out a whimper. Lorcan immediately dropped his eyes to his son, but Tavish quieted down.

“What happened?” Elide asked, already reaching to the small armoire behind her for Tavish’s binky.

“The holiday party is happening,” Lorcan said. He shoveled piles of rice and noodles in his mouth to avoid saying any more.

Rowan cursed again and sat back in his chair. He’d always been so careful in how he approached the Holidays and planning vacations and doctor’s appointments around the major parties and events he didn’t want to attend. This year was different. Not just because of Remelle and that mess. But Rowan had also been given a major promotion. He was in charge of an entire department and as such would be expected to attend work parties such as this.

“Remelle was very insistent,” Lorcan added.

Rowan knew what that meant. He sighed. Hell.

Another whimper sounded from Tavish and Elide was quick to swing him up in her arms and rock him. When he still didn’t settle she stood. Lorcan reached out a hand for the baby.

“Do you want—?” he began, but Elide shook her head.

She dropped a kiss to Lorcan’s forehead and headed out of the kitchen. “It’s fine, he just needs a change.”

Lorcan watched as Elide left down the hall, a gentle look on his face. Once he turned to Rowan, however, the look hardened back to his usual scowl.

“While you were busy putting out fires for Graves, the other department heads pushed the party forward,” Lorcan said. “And Remelle wasn’t subtle about it being in December and as Christmas-y as possible.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised. He knew he shouldn’t have been, but Rowan couldn’t help but feel the jab. He’d thought Remelle had understood and accepted, in part, his aversion to gatherings and socializing at this time of year. But then he thought of her quips and coldness. The way she’d tried to fill his apartment with seasonable candles and slip pumpkin spice creamer in his fridge.

“Why the hell did you let me date her?” Rowan asked.

“I tried to warn you,” Lorcan threw up his hands in defense. “You’re the one who made a pros and cons list.”

Lorcan began cleaning up the takeout containers and plates. He made sure anything extra made it to the fridge. When he returned to the table, he passed Rowan a beer.

“I didn’t make a list,” Rowan muttered as he opened his beer.

Lorcan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. But you should also know that Remelle…well she mentioned bringing her boyfriend.”

Down the hall, Rowan heard Elide murmuring softly to Tavish. Other than that, there were only the few sounds of cars rushing by outside and the heating system kicked on sending a rumble through the house.

He hadn’t loved Remelle. Nowhere even close to it. In fact, Rowan was glad to have gotten out of that relationship. But he’d been hung up on it. Had thought about it. Had wondered why she’d cheated on him instead of talking to him about where they stood. He didn’t care about the credit card; he’d gotten most of his money back in that. It was in the idea of being used by Remelle that still clung to him like a shadow.

“Three weeks,” Rowan finally said. He drank nearly half his beer in one go. “Glad she’s doing so well.”

“She’s a bitch, Rowan,” Lorcan said. His already dark scowl went darker still. “She knows exactly what she’s doing. I can try and speak up on Monday and get you out of it—”

Rowan shook his head. “It’s the first major get together since the promotion. I know how Nesryn is, she’ll want me at that party.”

The CEO of the company was usually understanding, but Rowan didn’t want to get on her bad side.

He and Lorcan sat in the near silence. Lorcan, never one for words anyways, remained quiet. Though, Rowan had known him long enough to recognize how irritated his friend actually was.

“We could insist on no plus-ones unless it’s a spouse,” Lorcan said, “even if health restrictions have been more lenient.”

Rowan just shook his head. “I’m a grown man. I can handle myself.”

Though, he could already see the way Remelle’s eyes would spark at seeing him alone. At least he had a month to prepare. Still, he felt a bit of panic rise in his chest. Not just at the thought of dealing with the holidays, but at dealing with that subtle judgment Remelle was sure to dish out.

There was a knock at the door and Lorcan rose to answer it.

“Well, well,” a woman’s voice crooned. “Isn’t it past your bedtime, old man?”

“I’m not old,” Lorcan muttered. There was the sound of footsteps, the door closing, and Lorcan’s sigh.

“You have a child and are officially over thirty,” the woman said happily, “Safe to say I can call you old.”

The woman who entered the kitchen next was nearly impossible to look away from. Despite it being the bare beginnings of November, she already wore a dress decorated in gingerbread men and candy canes, a pair of bright red tights, and black flats. Her hair was styled with little bits of tinsel and her make-up was a wild collection of red and green eyeliner. She was a walking ad of Christmas. And still, Rowan was struck by her.

She walked with confidence, a grin in place at successfully teasing Lorcan, and she simply had a bright openness about her. Despite the Christmas vomit she’d covered herself in, Rowan could see her beauty. Her blonde hair framed sharp features and bright eyes.

“Take your casserole dishes so I can have my kitchen back,” Lorcan said. He walked around to his chair and sat.

“Where’s your better half?” the woman asked. She glanced around and finally seemed to notice Rowan. She paused and frowned, just barely. “Hello.”

“Hey,” Rowan greeted, tipping his beer as a sort of wave.

“Aelin?” Elide’s voice came from down the hall and then she appeared with a freshly bundled baby in her arms.

“Hey!” Aelin tried, and failed, to hold back her happy greeting, leaning into a slight shriek as she hurried to Elide.

Immediately, Elide passed the baby over and Aelin took Tavish in her arms. If she’d been happy before, that paled in comparison to how she cooed and awed at Tavish who seemed captivated by the sparkles in her hair.

“Oh little man, look at you and your new pajamas,” Aelin said.

Rowan watched as she came into the kitchen, Tavish in arms. The baby wore footed pajamas that were nearly as festive as Aelin herself. Santa’s and reindeer pranced along the fabric merrily.

“What did you do to that kid?” Rowan couldn’t help but ask. “Elide, Thanksgiving hasn’t even happened.”

Before Elide could reply, Aelin gave an affronted gasp and turned to Rowan.

“You’re one of those Anti-Holiday people, aren’t you?’ she asked.

Rowan only shook his head. He didn’t need to respond. Particularly to someone he didn’t even know.

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year,” Aelin continued when Rowan didn’t reply. She really looked at him then and Rowan could see the flash of recognition in her eyes. “Oh, you’re the Buzzard.”

“The what?” Rowan nearly spit out his beer. He looked between Elide and Lorcan, but they proved to be useless. Elide was failing at stifling laughter and Lorcan was up and grabbing another beer.

“Buzzard, buzzkill,” Aelin shrugged a delicate shoulder and grinned down at Tavish who grabbed at her hair. “If I remember correctly, at the wedding, you were hardly any fun. Though, I guess it makes sense if you’re friends with Salvaterre.”

“Thin ice, Galathynius,” Lorcan grumbled. He opened his second beer.

Aelin only hummed as she swayed side to side with Tavish. “I pray your child is better company.”

“Knock it off!” Elide ordered, though she had a smile playing on her lips. “Rowan, can I get you anything else? What do I owe you for the take-out?”

Rowan shook his head and stood. He’d only half finished his beer, but he needed to leave. It was already getting late and he knew that Tavish already had a messed-up sleep schedule.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” he said, “my treat.”

Elide looked ready to throw her purse at him and demand he take some money, but he was already headed to the door. His friends had done more than enough for him in the past and they were still struggling with adapting to having Tavish back at home.

“Rowan!” Elide called after him.

“Bye Buzzard!” came from Aelin.

He made it to his truck, a stark contrast to the rest of the lifestyle he lived, and settled in. He’d barely drunk any beer and with the heavy dinner he was more than able to drive. Still, he waited for an extra moment. As Rowan glanced up at Lorcan and Elide, he could just see a sliver into the kitchen. Aelin had passed Tavish to Lorcan who swooped his son into his arms, beside him Elide was laughing over something that had been said.

Rowan shook his head at the simple sight. He’d never had expected Lorcan to settle down before him. Especially not so quickly and happily. But Lorcan wasn’t looking back.

Rowan started the truck—the old engine roared to life and slowly the radio came on. Static curled over the station and gave way to Mariah Carey’s penultimate Christmas triumph.

He turned the radio off and made his way home.

…

The cool autumn air wrapped around Aelin as she trudged into work. It was too early to be awake, even for her. She’d been picking up more shifts at the cafe since her piano lessons had filtered out recently with the season and school year in full swing. Kids didn’t have time during the day, so her nights were usually chaotic.

Still, the cafe needed to function for the sake of downtown traffic and workers. So she opened up and got lights on and music going. It was early in the season, but she’d already organized a new playlist for the year full of new Christmas and holiday songs she’d curated over the year.

It was her favorite time of year. Despite how miserable she’d been recently; she would let herself enjoy the Holidays. She was dressed in another thrift store find—an obnoxious red jumpsuit paired with combat boots that had seen better days.

This last year had been the worst of her life. Her father passing away combined with needing to drop out of school to help her mother in her grief had only added to Aelin’s burden. She’d never speak ill of her mother but after sidelining everything about herself, Aelin was ready for a little bit of brightness.

As the day picked up, she was joined by her coworkers. They didn’t quite understand her exuberance for the season, but they were better than grumpy men who couldn’t even appreciate a baby in a cute onesie.

She shook her head. Why was she thinking about Lorcan’s grumpy friend? Despite the fact that Rowan Whitethorn was, without a doubt, the most attractive man she’d ever seen—he was an ass. And she had no need for that, not now.

It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that Aelin saw a small reprieve in the flood of customers. For which she was grateful. She was just finishing a drink before heading on break when the door of the shop opened and a familiar figure entered.

Tall, broad shouldered, silver hair that coiffed easily off his face—Rowan.

It had been a week since Aelin had seen him at Elide’s and just like the days following the wedding—Aelin hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. Like a lunatic.

“Well, well,” she said as he approached the register. “The Buzzard.”

He paused, finally realizing who she was. His green eyes widened and a delightfully perplex look crossed that stupidly handsome face.

“You—” he began.

“Me,” she said with a wink. She called out the name for the drink she’d finished and returned to him. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

Well, that was the most ridiculous thing she could have ever said.

Rowan only blinked. He seemed to be more distracted by her outfit than anything.

“Right,” he said slowly, “Um. I got off a late lunch and this was the closest place for caffeine.”

Aelin shrugged. Decent enough answer. “Well, what can I get you? Something with extra caramel and pumpkin spice?”

She said it as a joke, leaving plenty of teasing in her voice with a happy smile. But Rowan’s confused look turned to a scowl.

“No.” He fingered a link of garland Aelin had strung up just yesterday and pure disgust practically bloomed across his face. “I don’t do that stuff.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Aelin told him, trying to urge a smile, Rowan however seemed to not know what the hell a smile was. “It’s Christmas in a cup.”

“No,” he repeated. “Just a latte with raw sugar and oat milk. Iced.”

“Alright,” Aelin said. She rang him up and started on the drink. “So you’re a Christmas denier, then?”

“More like an ignorer,” Rowan replied.

Aelin could only stare. How could—? Even with everything in her life, the holidays had been her saving grace. She loved this time of year, loved the wonder of it all, loved feeling just a little bit of hope.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Rowan growled. He grabbed his finished drink from her before she could set it down.

“Like what?” she challenged, feeling her good mood of the day draining.

“Like you pity me,” he said. “I don’t like the holidays but that doesn’t mean—” He bit off his words so suddenly that Aelin thought he’d had a stroke. Rowan turned away from her, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

“Just because you don’t like the holidays doesn’t mean you have to be an ass,” Aelin said.

His jaw flexed again and Aelin watched as he took a long breath. Those deep green eyes of his flared with something she couldn’t quite read, but with the way they bore into her, she began to wonder if maybe he could see into her very soul.

Before either of them could say anything, the door of the cafe jingled open. Aelin watched as Rowan turned to leave and then froze. His attention had caught on the new patron, of course. The woman was a few inches shorter than Aelin with platinum blonde hair that hung perfectly straight without a hint of frizz. Her pale skin practically glowed pearlescent in the lights and her slender frame was emphasized by a form fitting black dress. She was beautiful and perfectly composed.

“Rowan?” the woman practically purred. “This is a surprise.”

At that moment, with no real way to explain it, Aelin decided she didn’t like this woman. She didn’t often make such rash or quick judgements, choosing instead to gather more information about someone. Yet, the woman moved with catlike grace and a feral sort of smile bloomed on her perfect, full lips.

“You hate cafe’s,” the woman continued, eyes still trained on Rowan.

To his credit, Rowan hadn’t moved an inch since the woman appeared. Aelin could only see the bare hints of his profile, but she could already see the hard set of his jaw, the flash of his eyes.

“Remelle,” Rowan said, his voice dropping several degrees cooler than the tone he’d used with Aelin.

Hell. Aelin had seen interactions like this. The post-break-up meet that was awkward and miserable for everyone involved. She wondered if turning up the music and letting Michael Buble cry out would solve anything or make it worse.

“Is that all I get?” Remelle laughed and came closer, her heels snipped sharply on the tiled floor. She reached Rowan and placed a hand on his arm, her long fingers curling a bit too tightly for a casual brush. “You know I’m surprised that you aren’t fighting the Christmas party this year. Though, you’ll probably blow it off right? It’s always hard to come alone to things like that. Cairn and I—”

“Remelle,” Rowan spoke loudly, his voice cleanly cutting over hers. And then to Aelin’s everlasting horror, he turned to her. And for the barest of moments, she caught a look of both desperation and effective calculation flash across his eyes. “I would love to catch up, but my girlfriend and I are about to enjoy her break.”

Oh hell no.

Aelin was too surprised to react directly and she very nearly burst out into a fit of giggles if not for the look in Rowan’s eyes and the sneer on Remelle’s face.

“This is your girlfriend?” Remelle scoffed.

“Aelin,” she said brightly. She pulled the ties of her apron and folded it neatly in her hands. “Nice to meet you. Ronda, was it?”

From the back room, Luca appeared. Bless him for actually being on time for his shift for once. She nodded to him and waved. He nodded back and got to work setting up for the afternoon.

“It’s Remelle,” the other woman said. Her pale blue eyes bore into Aelin as she came around the back counter. With the full effect of the jumpsuit and her combat boots on display, partnered with the snowman socks peeking over the tops of the laces, Aelin sidled into Rowan’s side and slipped her arm into his—effectively dislodging Remelle’s hold.

“I’m ready when you are,” she told Rowan, wondering if the psychotic look in her eyes was enough to burn him alive on the spot. Maybe if she added enough Christmas references in the next five minutes.

Rowan looked over her outfit and shook his head. “You look for any chance you get, don’t you?”

“It’s Christmas, I’ll wear what I damn well please,” Aelin said happily.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

He seemed to be forcibly holding back a smirk as he turned back to Remelle. “I’ll see you around, Rem.”

The other woman said nothing only narrowed her eyes and shot another sneer to Aelin before moving past them to the register.

As Rowan took Aelin’s hand, he practically yanked her out of the shop. His grip was impossibly tight that even if Aelin wanted to—she wouldn’t have been able to pull away.

…

It wasn’t until they were out on the cold streets of Terrasen and walking a full block away from the shop that Rowan finally stopped and let go of Aelin. He pulled away from her quickly, breathing hard. Curses and other expletives raged through his mind as he gripped his stupid ass drink and tried not to throw it at the building next to them.

Aelin only stood, hands in pockets and watched. Hell. He hadn’t even let her grab her jacket, had he? And it looked like it was going to snow.

“Do you want my jacket?” he asked, already trying to pull it off one handed. His mother would kill him if she knew what he’d done. Let alone for how he was wrecking her favorite time of the year.

“It’s fine, I can just sing Nat King Cole lyrics, it always helps,” Aelin replied with a shrug.

Rowan stared.

“Dean Martin’s song too,” she continued. “You know what’s a great Christmas song—”

“Stop.” Rowan ran his free hand over his face and shook his head. Why was he such an idiot? He straightened his suit and tossed the latte in a nearby trash. No way he’d be drinking it now. “I’m sorry I dragged you into that. But I appreciate you for playing along.”

“She was absolutely delightful,” Aelin said, “you two seem like you could make a wonderfully spiteful couple. What happened?”

She said it all with that bright, happy undertone as though she were still talking about her favorite Christmas songs. Blonde hair spilled loose from a low bun. Unlike Remelle’s hair, Aelin’s had depth and color with thick waves that gave it body. Even those few tendrils framed her face with subtle lines that emphasized her features.

He blinked and looked away. “It’s not important.”

Aelin crossed her arms over her chest but said nothing. She was probably freezing. Rowan was freezing and he had his suit jacket. At least she had long sleeves on though.

This was all a mess. Rowan looked up the street where a light turned red and four cars still ran through the intersections. A few horns blared halfheartedly. The sky darkened and the clouds appeared denser than before. The shadows that fell over the city weren’t cruel or menacing, rather a promise that something was coming.

“Do you,” Rowan began. He cut himself off and cursed. “Can I get you anything? This is your break, right?”

“I usually just go to the book store and read,” Aelin replied. She shrugged. “It’s usually playing my favorite holiday songs and they have a display of pumpkin candles they sell. Best purchase you will ever make. Aside from the books.”

This woman was unlike anyone Rowan had ever known. She was easily confident and brazen, lighthearted and genuine. Even if she were a walking billboard for Christmas. He didn’t know now whether to appreciate her a little more and throw it all up and walk in the opposite direction.

A flash of Remelle’s cocky smile flashed in his mind and he knew he couldn’t be done with Aelin just yet.

“The question is do you need anything?” Aelin asked. “Girlfriends of Christmases past aren’t my specialty, but I do find sufganiyot, these awesome jelly-filled doughnuts from Israel, to be a great start to the healing process of any situation.”

In her attempts to be a bit more culturally minded this time of year, Aelin had discovered the doughnuts from a friend.

“I don’t eat sugar,” Rowan said automatically. He really couldn’t be having this conversation, could he?

Aelin stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. “You really are the Grinch, aren’t you? No, you’re Krampus. I don’t see you having a change of heart. You look more likely to eat children.”

Mother of—Rowan sighed wondering if he really was about to ask his next question. “I need a favor.”

Aelin cocked her head, her blue and gold eyes sparkling. “A favor? I hardly know you and you just referred to me as your girlfriend. As much as I love the giving side of this season, I think I’m nearing my limit.”

Rowan was starting to see how she might actually get along with Lorcan.

“I know you don’t owe me anything,” he said, “but if I show up to my work holiday party without you now, Remelle will never let me hear the end of it. My life in and out of work will be a living nightmare. There’s no way of escaping her without moving out of the country.”

Aelin’s mouth opened and closed. She brushed her hair out of her eyes and rubbed at her pink nose with even pinker fingers. How was she not utterly frozen?

“You want me to play your fake girlfriend?” she repeated.

“Yes.”

Letting out a bark of laughter, Aelin shook her head. “You want me to be your girlfriend? We would kill each other. Don’t think I don’t know murder eyes when I see them. You hate me Rowan Whitethorn and my love of the Holidays would drive you insane within the span of five minutes.”

Rowan nodded along to her words, hardly offended by her laughing at his request. She had a very good point. He really didn’t know if he could withstand her brand of cheer for even a night.

“I haven’t self-imploded yet, have I?” he asked. He tried to keep the desperation out of his voice, really, he did. But he thought of seeing Remelle at that damned party dressed in something far too suggestive with her arms around another man. She’d so perfectly moved on without a care in the world. And here he was, trapped in his own miserable past.

Aelin’s mouth pulled to one side. “Did Elide put you up to this somehow?”

“What? No.” Rowan shook his head. “Why would she?”

Instead of answering, Aelin stuffed her hands in her pockets and bounced on the balls of her feet. “I can’t tone down the personality, you know. This is who I am.”

“Alright,” Rowan said. At this point he didn’t care.

“Free food?” she asked.

“And drinks,” he confirmed.

“Well,” Aelin finally sighed. “I do love a good party.”

…

From that blustery day in November, straight until the Holiday Party in December—Rowan was on edge. Despite the fact of talking with Aelin every once and a while over text, he was still filled with utter dread about this whole thing. Being forced into a room of lights and music and socializing aside—he just didn’t know if he and Aelin would pull off being an actual couple.

When he’d told Lorcan and Elide about what happened, Lorcan laughed in his face while Elide tried the kinder route of oh, are you sure about this?

Suffice it to say that Rowan was fully expecting his own self destruction.

When the day of the party finally arrived, a Saturday, Rowan sent Aelin one last text to ensure she was still on board. She replied with a middle finger emoji and Christmas tree. A few seconds later she sent him her address and confirmed when he’d be there.

Rowan dressed in slacks and a dark green button-up, it really was the only shirt he had somewhat relating to Christmas colors. He didn’t bother with a tie, hoping that after a brief appearance he could leave with Aelin and they could breeze past this night without looking back.

The party was set to begin at seven, so giving himself a little over forty-five minutes, Rowan headed over to Aelin’s place. She lived fairly close to Elide and Lorcan, on the south side of the city that had a little more suburban feel than constant roadwork and city life. He found her apartment easily and had no question as to which door was hers.

Facing the inside of the complex, the door was lined with red and green lights, a holiday sign on the front step that sported a snowman, and plastic snowflakes dangled from hooks in the eaves of the stoop.

When Rowan knocked it took a few minutes before she answered, though, he wouldn’t begrudge her for it in the slightest. Not when he caught his first glimpse of her.

He’d known Aelin was attractive, beautiful really. But seeing her now stole the breath from his lungs. She wore a dress of shimmering gold fabric that fell to her knees, clinging to her curves perfectly. The swoop neck was modest, leaving enough skin on display to tantalize anyone who looked her way. Hair twisted to one side in a half-done twist, her elegant features were impossible to look away from.

Gone was the woman who wore outlandish holiday paraphernalia. Gone were the combat boots and jumpsuits. She was almost an entirely different person. It was a thought that left him a little unsettled. She’d said she wouldn’t change for him and he hadn’t expected or wanted her to.

“Rowan,” she greeted. Her smile was warm, playful. On one arm she had her thick wool coat, the other her purse.

“You look beautiful,” he told her. There was no way he could deny that and if it wasn’t the first thing out of his mouth, he’d probably never forgive himself.

Her smile broadened into a grin. “I know.”

She locked her apartment behind her and let him lead her to his truck. While the truck was old and had more than enough miles on it, Rowan couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it. It still ran well and he’d put enough work into it that it had new leather seats and even a somewhat updated stereo.

He opened the passenger door for Aelin before slipping over to the driver's side.

“I do appreciate this, Aelin,” he said as he pulled out onto the main road.

She shrugged. “Well, you really are a walking Hallmark movie waiting to happen, how could I say no?”

He shot her a look and she winked.

“Elide told me she would be there, I’ll sneak off with her if it gets too dull,” Aelin said, “that’ll free you up from whatever other gossip is circling about you.”

“There’s no gossip,” Rowan said.

It was a lie; he was sure elevators and lunch rooms were full of little commentaries on Rowan and Remelle. No one knew the truth, not really, only that it was Remelle who had dumped him. Not that Rowan really cared about that particular detail, just that there were some judging eyes following him around now. He could only imagine what Remelle herself had contributed to the whole mess of this.

He needed to change the conversation. “Not that you don’t look great, I was expecting something a little more…exuberant from you.”

“Would you like me to wear a Santa costume?” she drawled. “Please Rowan, I’m a grown woman. I know what is appropriate to wear to company parties, I’m not a kid or whatever you think of me. Though, I have to admit a Santa costume would require less spandex than this dress.”

That certainly put an image in his mind.

“That’s not,” Rowan cut himself off. Why bother denying it? He really had expected her to be in something bright red and decked out with cartoon figures.

“The truck is not what I expected from you, either,” she said. She fingered the wood carving that hung from the rearview mirror. “Mister Corporate Job in the city doesn’t have an SUV or sleek corvette?”

Rowan chuckled at that. It wasn’t the first time someone asked him about his choice in transportation. Fenrys had tried on multiple occasions to get something newer and Lorcan teased him whenever he had to get something fixed in the engine.

“This was my dad’s truck,” he admitted. The words were a strange admission to make. No one had ever really asked him about the truck because everyone who knew him also knew about his parents. “I helped him restore it all while growing up. When he and my mom died, I couldn’t get rid of it.”

“Oh,” Aelin murmured.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye and the array of thoughts flashing across her face. It was already dark outside that the only real look he got of her came from passing headlights or streetlamps. She looked like something out of a movie with her hair and lipstick, the thin gold earrings dangling nearly to her shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. “I didn’t know.”

“It happened a while ago,” Rowan said. “Besides, it’s not something I talk about.”

By the time they made it to the event hall for the party, Rowan was already wondering if he should just back out and take Aelin out for ice cream and pumpkin spice or whatever girls like her enjoyed.

Seeming to sense his hesitance, Aelin reached over and touched his arm as the approached the entrance.

“I won’t judge you if you want to leave,” she said. “Hell, just the fact you made it this far is impressive enough.”

Rowan sighed. “I have to do this. My boss’ll be here and supposedly going to parties is a part of my job description now.”

“Well,” Aelin said, linking her arm with Rowans. She raised a perfectly manicured brow and grinned. “I think we both deserve to get drunk on eggnog and eat our weight in cookies.”

There was no point in arguing with her, so Rowan let her pull him along and into what was sure to be his living nightmare.

The venue was located downtown in one of the older buildings that sported marble floors, glistening chandeliers, and plenty of wide-open windows that offered a look over a sprawling park. Terrasen was known for its hills and the fact that the streets were often on a difficult slope. It rendered plenty of opportunities for buildings such as this to have remarkable views over the city.

Perhaps Rowan could take comfort in the fact he could escape for a reprieve as needed. If not for the way everyone in the room seemed to turn to him and Aelin as they entered the room. Oh it was subtle, of course. The music was loud and there were still dwindling conversations that kept the room abuzz. But there was no mistaking the change in the room and slight looks that came his way.

Beside him, Aelin practically glowed. She easily slipped out of her coat and handed it to a waiting checker before she ushered Rowan further into the room. He should at least pretend. He should dig out that same frail mask he put on every day and let it take over. Maybe if it didn’t smell like cinnamon and spice and pine. Maybe if holiday music weren’t blaring overhead. Maybe if it actually felt like he was supposed to be enjoying himself. Maybe if, for whatever reason, he didn’t expect to see his parents out of the corner of his eye.

And then, as though a switch had been flicked, everything resumed as it had been. Eyes shifted away, conversation picked up, and Rowan felt a little tug of peace that he could act as himself.

“What kind of a marketing office is this?” Aelin muttered beside him. “It’s like Mean Girls in real life.”

Rowan snorted laugh and directed Aelin to the refreshments. “Everyone likes being in each other’s business. And…well Remelle hasn’t been to kind to me in our break-up.”

Aelin hummed as she selected a few treats. “You really do know how to pick them.”

“I hate the holidays,” Rowan said in response.

He chose a drink, wine by the looks of it, just as Nesryn approached. She wore a simple black dress highlighted with a gold choker necklace. Mingling behind her was her husband, Sartaq, who owned most of the stock trade of Terrasen.

“Rowan, you actually showed up,” Nesryn said looking him over. “And wearing green no less.”

“That was my idea.” Aelin, to Rowan’s horror, was not going to stand idly by tonight. Instead, she leaned into Rowan and grinned up at him with amusement burning in his eyes. “I told him he had to wear at least one festive thing tonight. It was either the shirt or the Rudolf tie I got him. He chose the shirt.”

“Of course I chose the shirt,” Rowan replied automatically, not knowing where exactly the words had come from. He had no idea if said Rudolf Tie existed, but he could only imagine. “That damn tie lights up.”

“That’s what makes it so great!” Aelin looked as though she were enjoying herself far too much and Rowan began seriously questioning what the hell he’d done by bringing her here.

“Nesryn, meet Aelin Galathynius,” Rowan said, “Nesryn, this is Aelin.”

Nesryn blinked in surprise before taking Aelin’s proffered hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m glad Rowan brought someone.”

He’d never thought Nesryn would be one to fall into the wiles of gossip, but with the way she appraised Aelin and nodded, smile of approval flashing across her mouth—he knew that she was privy to at least some of the rumors going around the office. What she thought of them Rowan had no idea. But with the nod and repeated pleasantries, maybe Nesryn was as on his side as she could be.

“Wow, is it a miracle or something that you’re being social?” Aelin asked him as Nesryn left.

Rowan ignored the question. “Why don’t you take a seat? I’ll grab us some more drinks.”

With a pretty little smile that assured him of more teasing to come, Aelin straightened the lapel of his jacket and slipped away. When she was finally a few steps away, Rowan felt like he could breathe. Why had he brought her? He barely knew her outside of Elide and Lorcan. She was far too attractive for his own good. And he knew that something would go wrong tonight. It always did with this stupid season the desperate need for love and attention.

He watched Aelin blatantly disregard all the open seats and instead go to Elide who had just shown up with Lorcan. Elide looked good in a flowing dress of silver and blue, her hair falling in long curls. Lorcan, like him, looked miserable to be there.

As Aelin dragged Elide to one of the tables, Rowan felt a strange sense of relief at the small gesture. He didn’t know whether it was Aelin going to her friend for company, that he’d be surrounded by more people who actually liked him, or what.

Lorcan approached him with a muted curse. “How long do you think we have to stay?”

“You can leave whenever you want,” Rowan laughed, “you’ve got a baby at home.”

“Marion and Cal are babysitting,” Lorcan said, “if we go back to early and interrupt grandparent bonding time, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Ah. Elide’s parents were much like their daughter—stubborn, caring, and utterly infatuated with Tavish.

“I can’t believe you actually came with her,” Lorcan continued. He nodded to where Aelin and Elide were giggling madly over something, ignoring anyone and everyone that cast them strange looks. “Galathynius is a menace even on a good day.”

“It’s a long story,” Rowan sighed. One that he didn’t even know where to begin. Because if he tried to explain it to Lorcan he would have had to go into the fact that Aelin was unlike anyone Rowan knew. That she was the complete opposite of anyone he’d dated before. That she, somehow, had managed to actually crack a smile out of him for the first time in a long, long while.

…

Aelin was trying and failing to not burst out into another round of laughter as she and Elide sat at one of the tables of the event center. Whoever the party planner for the event was, had done a brilliant job at making everything tastefully lovely. With the hanging lights, silvery table cloths, simply holly table centers—it was a big money and high society event. One that Aelin would usually never have attended.

Back when her father had been alive, Evelin attended every party dutifully. Aelin only ever went when the even had been at a bowling alley and she could get away with wearing leggings. This was something different. And it was a little intimidating if she were being honest. This was a grown-up world. One where everyone actually finished college, had real jobs, and knew what they were doing with their lives.

“Okay, okay,” Elide giggled, stealing another cookie from the plate Aelin had loaded. “Seriously though, he’s being nice right? I’ll kick his ass if he isn’t.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. She had no doubt her friend could put Rowan in his place with just a look. “He’s a gentleman, Elide. Grumpy as ever, but yeah, nice.”

Really though, nice was not the word Aelin would use to describe Rowan.

“Well, even if he doesn’t say it,” Elide said, “he’s glad you’re here. He hates stuff like this. Doesn’t help that it’s a Christmas party. Or that Remelle will be here. I can’t believe she’s bringing a date. The bitch.”

Aelin paused as she fingered a cookie. Elide rarely swore. Oh she could manipulate words to insult someone perfectly, but blatant cursing like this was strange.

“Yeah, I met her a few weeks ago when Rowan asked me to be his date,” Aelin said. She then explained what had happened at the coffee shop and the way Rowan dragged her out into the chilly afternoon.

Elide snorted. “I’ve never liked that woman. Even before she cheated on him.”

“She what?” Aelin struggled to keep her voice low as she registered Elide’s words. Remelle had cheated on Rowan? And had the audacity to act the way she did?

“Oh,” Elide murmured. “He didn’t tell you?”

“No.”

“Oh. Oh damn.” Elide winced. “Well, then I’m a terrible person. I shouldn’t have said anything. He’ll kill me for telling you that. I thought he would have given this whole mess.”

Aelin sat back in her seat and looked over her shoulder to where Rowan was still talking to Lorcan. Rowan appeared to be a little lighter as he talked with his friend, he stood relaxed and at ease, his usually harsh face softened just enough that Aelin could almost see a different side to him.

“Is that why he hates this time of year?” Aelin asked. She could understand that the holidays weren’t for everyone, but there had been something different about Rowan’s blatant hostility to anything Christmas related. Even when she tried to find the joy and fun in everything, some people had old wounds that ran deep.

Elide shifted in her seat, guilt flashing in her eyes. “Well, his parents died in December. It was years ago and he doesn’t talk about it much, but it’s always affected him for as long as I’ve known him.”

A pit formed in Aelin’s gut. She knew all too well what grief could do to someone. With careful scrutiny, she observed Rowan. His carefully styled hair, the neat button up, flashy watch on his wrist—she wondered what he might be like if he pulled down the walls he’d constructed around him. Would he be just as cold and bitter? Would he be softer, gentler?

She would never find out, however, not as Remelle chose that moment to show up. She was just as beautiful as the first time Aelin met her. She wore a black dress of lace that barely hit her knees, the deep drop of the neckline emphasized her well-endowed cleavage. Her blonde hair was swept in a sleek, high pony-tail that left her sharp cheekbones and narrow face on display. The man beside her wore a suit, a silver button up, and an unholy sneer that matched Remelle perfectly.

Aelin’s heart gave an unhealthy squeeze as Remelle’s eyes locked on Rowan and she made a b-line to him.

“Pray for me,” Aelin muttered, “I might have to kill a woman.”

She didn’t hear Elide’s response, though it sounded a great deal like encouragement.

Aelin knew she was attractive. She’d had past boyfriends that praised her for her looks (more than anything else about her, but that was a different issue altogether) and she had a friend that often called her up to have her model for stock photos in their portfolio. And while she was confident with herself--she couldn’t help but feel as though a knife were digging into her back at the sight of Remelle. Not just for the way she’d treated Rowan, but the haughty gaze she held over everyone she came in contact with.

As she approached where Remelle was already speaking with Rowan and Lorcan, Aelin wasn’t sure what she was going to say. Or do. She might end up making this even worse for Rowan. But she was already moving and knew she couldn’t back down now. She was never one to walk away from a problem in any case.

“You remember Cairn?” Remelle was saying, leaning all too closely into her date.

The look on Rowan’s face said that he had no trouble with remembering the other man. Even at a distance, Aelin could see his entire body tense and see the way his eyes shaded over with dissociation.

“Rowan,” Aelin said happily. She angled herself at his side so her back was to Remelle, hopefully blocking the woman out when he looked at her.

As if on instinct, one of his arms went around her and pulled her closer to his side. She tried not to think about the little thrill that went through her body at the way she practically molded against him. The hard planes of his body met each of her curves point for point and made Aelin already regret having to pull away from him when the time came.

“Aelin,” Rowan replied. His eyes narrowed as if already sensing that she was up to something. And she was. She had no idea what that would be, of course, but she would make something happen.

So, Aelin offered up a slow, dangerous smile as she turned to Remelle.

“Ronda! Oh, wait, no. It’s Remelle, sorry.” She tucked herself just a little closer to Rowa, giving his arm a quick squeeze. Whether an apology or assurance that she was there--she didn’t know. The other woman did not appear amused at all over Aelin’s antics and neither did the sneering Cairn with slicked hair and too polished suit. “I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Remelle’s eyes narrowed. “I’m surprised you managed to drag Rowan here. He’s never been one for Christmas.”

“We reached a compromise,” Aelin said sweetly, “he willingly participates in a Christmas activity and I willingly—”

Rowan’s hold tightened against her, cutting Aelin off with an oof.

“No,” he warned, eyes ablaze.

Cackling, Aelin only winked at him. When she returned her attention to Remelle, she was delighted at the hatred burning in the woman’s eyes.

“If you’ll excuse us, Rowan owes me a dance,” Aelin said. She then promptly pulled Rowan after, leaving the seething Remelle and Cairn behind.

The dance floor provided was nothing special. Aelin suspected that Nesryn or whoever has the control over the party’s set up never actually expected anyone to dance. But this was the best out of getting away from Remelle so Aelin took it.

They were soon joined by Lorcan and Elide and another couple though it certainly appeared the no one had actually expected any dancing.

“You really don’t believe in subtlety, do you?” Rowan asked as he pulled Aelin closer so they could dance instead of just standing there.

“I thought it was obvious from the beginning?” Aelin teased. Perhaps she should have just excused Rowan without the fanfare and just asked him to dance. Or even just ignored Remelle entirely and dragged Rowan away from her. Oh well. “Besides, I couldn’t miss the golden opportunity that so perfectly fell into my lap.”

“No,” Rowan seemed to reply automatically despite not knowing what she was talking about and Aelin just laughed.

Pointing up, she gestured to the string of lights overhead and the small sprig of mistletoe there.

“C’mon, Buzzard you promised one holiday related tradition, we can’t pass up the mistletoe.”

Rowan sighed as one hand curled around her waist. “She’s still watching, isn’t she?”

“She’s being very obvious about it,” Aelin said. “I hate to say it and hope it doesn’t sound as bad as I think it does—but you dodged a bullet with her. And she doesn’t deserve you.”

Rowan didn’t respond and Aelin worried she’d crossed a line or made things between them even more terrible than before. When she met his gaze, however, there was no animosity or cruelty there.

“You’re a menace,” he informed her.

Aelin grinned, noting the way the corners of his mouth twitched and how his lips pressed together. He was trying his damndest not to smile.

“Thank-you,” she said, “it is my greatest achievement to date.”

Rowan shifted, drawing one hand slowly up her side, skirting her hips and waist before gently running up to the curve of her neck. Could he feel how her heartbeat picked up with his touch? Could he hear the stutter of her breath as he tilted her chin up just a little bit?

He finally did break into a smile, something small and meant just for her as he dipped down to kiss her.

It was brief, bare, a whisper of a touch against her lips. But even that simple touch was enough to light a fire deep in Aelin’s belly and spread out through her entire body. He pulled away far sooner than Aelin would have liked, but dragging him back down to her would probably not be the best thing to do after everything else she’d put Rowan through that night.

“See?” Aelin whispered. “Some traditions aren’t so bad.”

Rowan rolled his eyes and spun Aelin in a simple dance move. She laughed and let herself enjoy what was left of the night.

…

There was something to be said about Aelin Galathynius, Rowan decided. Something that he couldn’t quite describe. She was someone who lived for herself and herself alone. She had a perpetual bout of joy surrounding her in everything she did, even when she was left alone at the party while Rowan went around to everybody in his department.

And despite the fact that he could feel Remelle’s eyes on him the entire time he moved around the party hall, he could rest easy on the fact that he wouldn’t be leaving with her. And that she hadn’t approached him once since Aelin’s not so subtle interlude. So, surprisingly enough, it had been a good night.

Still, as soon as the two-hour mark of their arrival approached, Aelin eased to his side and gave him a silent look that he had no trouble interpreting.

Do you want to leave?

Even if she was obsessed with the holidays, she was turning out to be one of his new favorite people.

After they left, Rowan promised Elide to bring her ice cream the next time he stopped by, they headed out along the near freezing streets to the truck.

“You take Elide ice cream?” Aelin asked.

Rowan chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. It was a cold night; the sky was overcast with the threat of snow. His breath condensed in a pale fog when he spoke next.

“I lost a round of poker with her a few months ago,” Rowan explained, “and instead of taking my money, she wanted unlimited access to ice cream for the rest of the year.”

“Sounds like her,” Aelin laughed. She tilted her face up to the sky as if she too could sense the impending snow. The street lights danced off her face, illuminating her soft smile. “She once tricked me into a cheesecake tasting contest. Turns out that she just had mad cravings when she was pregnant.”

They remained in comfortable silence as they returned to the truck—Rowan helped Aelin into the passenger side before getting in himself. There was a single thought nagging him, but he didn’t know if he should even bother bringing it up.

When they were just a few minutes out from Aelins, he let the question slip.

“Elide told you about what happened with Remelle, didn’t she?” He didn’t look over at her, knowing that couldn't handle the pity that was sure to be in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” was all Aelin said.

They drove in silence, heading back outside the city to Aelin’s little apartment. It wasn’t long until it started raining. Though, as the droplets splattered against the windshield, Rowan noted how thick it was coming down. Soon enough, there would be snow.

When Aelin spoke again, there was a far-off note to her voice. “My last boyfriend made me pay for everything, just because I made extra cash teaching piano lessons. Then, when my dad got sick and I dropped out of school, he dumped me. Apparently, I was abandoning him. For my own father.”

“He sounds like an ass,” Rowan commented mildly.

“Oh, he is. Sam Cortland doesn’t have a chivalrous bone in his body,” Aelin said.

Even though she laughed, Rowan could still hear the vapid bite to her words.

“And your dad?” he asked.

“He passed, just barely a year now.”

Snow fell outside, whipping by as Rowan drove. The trucks headlights illuminated the road and made the stream of white flakes dance with light. It was strangely beautiful, the change of scenery. Even if he hated this time of year—snowfall added something different to the world. Unlike rain that fell in sheets and doused everything in gray; snow offered a fresh blanket of newness. It was a simple, subtle change, but Rowan appreciated it.

“My parents died right around the time I turned eighteen,” Rowan said. He didn’t know why he was telling her; they barely knew each other. “On Christmas Eve.”

Aelin cursed beside him. He felt, more than saw, her shift to look at him. He felt her eyes on him. Felt the way she seemed to reexamine everything about him.

“Well,” she said, “I suppose I can’t begrudge you for hating this time of the year anymore then.”

Rowan shook his head, unable to help a small chuckle.

“My mother would be mad at me,” Rowan admitted. He pulled off from the highway. They were getting close to Aelin’s place. “She loved the holidays and loved collecting traditions. Anything to make this time of year happier. We’re a small family and I think she just wanted a little bit more…flare to the season.”

“I don’t think she’d be mad,” Aelin said. “Maybe sad or hopeful. Sad that this time of the year isn’t the same, hopeful that you're still here. But, Rowan, it’s miserable being alone. It’s the damned worst. Especially when there’s no one we can really be with, that understands us. Instead we have to pretend, because who in their right mind would hate the Holidays?”

Rowan pulled up along her apartment. The snow still fell. Streetlamps illuminated the night as flakes passed in a relentless flurry.

“I mean,” Aelin continued as if she didn’t notice they’d reached her place, “I don’t want to go through the holidays. I don’t want to endure Christmas dinner without my dad. I don’t want to tell everyone I had such a great holiday season. I don’t want to lie and tell everyone I’m fine. But it’s what we do to make everyone else feel better.”

“So you dress up in red jumpsuits and reindeer stockings,” Rowan said. He finally caught Aelin’s eye and she barked out a laugh.

“If I didn’t, I’d be forced to talk about it with someone,” she replied.

Rowan too had to laugh at that. How many times had a well-meaning friend tried to get him to talk when he wasn’t ready? Or insist he just suck it up and be in a good mood?

“Let me walk you to your door,” he said. He jumped out of the truck and hurried over to her side. The ground was already covered with a thin layer of snow and would only collect more. Aelin’s shoes did not seem to be the most functional in weather like this, but he wouldn’t dare say anything.

Still, she navigated the slushy sidewalk and the small steps up to her door quite well.

“Thank-you,” Rowan said, “for tonight and the cafe with Remelle. I appreciate you doing this for me.”

Aelin, with that breathtaking beauty of hers, tilted her head and smiled. A few errant curls fell from their pins and there was a smudge of mascara beneath one eye. Rowan hardly noticed, didn’t care at all, as long as she fixed him with that look.

She rose up onto her toes and kissed his cheek softly. “Thank-you for the night.”

And then she pulled away, unlocking her apartment. Good, he needed that space between them. Needed that cool, biting air to blow up around him. He stepped down from her little porch to head back to his truck.

“Rowan,” she said slowly. He paused, turning back to her. A wave of warmth flooded over him from her open apartment door. “I hope you never taste a single bit of cinnamon or pumpkin the rest of this year.”

He grinned, shaking his head. “Good night, Aelin.”

“Buzzard,” she said. And the smile she gave him was enough to keep him warm the rest of the night.

...