#Ding dong beron’s dead

[nocasdatsgay]

From the Shadows the Beast will Rise Ch. 4

Pairing: Eris/Azriel | Rated: E | Word Count: 2512

Fic Summary: Months after that one encounter, Eris receives demand for a response to his summons to visit the Night Court. He ends up with warning for the future and a certain shadowsinger back under his skin.

Ch. Summary: Beron finds out Helion knows of Lucien’s parentage and shit goes downhill from there.

CW: Spoiler/not spoilers Beron Dies as he should. Canon typical violence.

A/N; there are more pov jumps in this. Áine was first used by flamesandshadows on ao3 for LOA’s name. Their works are amazing. Sorry this took so long I’ve been sick.

Master Post| Previous Chapter | Read Here on AO3

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Eris had left the letter in the cabin and went home, hoping to deal with it later. Two days passed without incident. Until there was a summons to the throne room. The last time his father called them to the throne room in the late afternoon unannounced, Jesminda was beheaded. Eris refused to go that night. He ended up in bed for a week after and scars on his back for it. He didn’t know what to expect this time. 

The throne room was empty, save for his father. He sat on this throne with a scowl on his face in his burnt orange ceremonial tunic and red robe. Eris’s stomach lurched at the implications. He walked down the crimson tile and stopped short of the dais. Beron did not speak. Nor did he spare his son a glance. Eris kept his posture and waited. 

He didn’t have to wait long; his brothers filed in shortly after him. Their footsteps echoed in the empty hall as they each filed in and stopped next to or near Eris. Once the final brother entered and the door shut, their father stood from his throne. A door to the side opened and Eris felt his stomach drop to his feet. 

Their mother was dragged in by a guard. Her hands were bound behind her back and she kept her gaze to the floor as she was brought in. She was in the same dress from the day before and there was still bruising on her left cheek. The guard pushed her once he reached the space between them and the dais. She stumbled, the hem of her dress tripping her. Eris couldn’t even process what was happening to save her the fall. With a sob, she landed on her knees. Beron looked down at her with a disgust Eris had never seen given toward his mother. He stepped forward once the guard left and with rage in his eyes spoke to their mother. 

“Tell them, Áine. Tell my sons why they’ve been brought here.” 

She let out a sob. Eris became increasingly panicked. His eyes scanned the room and he processed all the options he had in order to get her out. When she did not respond, Beron pulled out his sword from the sheath near his hip.

”Your mother is a whore.” Beron spat. Eris saw his brothers recoil in his peripheral vision. “I made her Lady of Autumn. I took care of her family. All she had to do was remain a faithful wife. But you couldn’t, could you Áine? Couldn’t keep your fucking legs closed.” 

Beron took a step down and their mother shuffled back on the floor. His voice cracked slightly but Eris knew it was embarrassment that caused it. 

“As your high lord I had every right to kill you. You and that bastard son you bore. I gave you mercy. I claimed him as my own when I didn’t have to in order to save our family the embarrassment. I swore you to secrecy.” Beron looked up toward his sons. “Your mother has embarrassed this family for the last time.”

“Beron,” their mother wept. “I didn’t tell him. I don’t know how he found out. I kept my word.”

“Enough!” Beron roared, tightening his grip on his sword. “The word of a whore means nothing.” 

Eris knew what he needed to do. Beron stepped down again and thankfully their mother shuffled further back towards them. Towards Eris unknowingly. He knew his father spoke again but his blood was roaring in his ears. As Beron lifted the sword, Eris snatched his mother off the floor and ran pulling her with him. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Azriel. The lady is in danger. 

Azriel stiffened in his chair. What lady?

Lady of Autumn. She and Eris are in danger. That made Azriel’s wings spread open. The High Lord will kill them. We must go.

“What’s wrong,” Cassian looked over at Azriel. 

He forgot he was at dinner in the River House. Everyone was staring at him. 

“There’s a disturbance in the Autumn Court. I think Eris is making a grab for the throne.” Azriel said more calmly than he felt. His shadows were swirling around him like crazy, hissing in his ear to hurry. 

“You should go.” His gaze snapped up to Elain who sat across him. She seemed dazed. “Go to Autumn, Azriel.” 

He cut over to Rhy and Feyre. They nodded in unison.   

Go Az, we promised to support him. Feyre said in his mind. 

He didn’t have time to look towards Cassian and Nesta. His shadows took that as confirmation and covered him, pulling him straight through the River House wards and into Autumn.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Eris and his mother made it to the courtyard in the center of the forest house. For once he wished he had the ability to cleave wards not his own. A plume of fire appeared before them and Eris shoved his mother behind him. Beron stepped forward and threw fire their way. They barely dodged it. 

“I did not raise you to be a fool. Get out of the way or I will end you as well.” Beron sneered at him. “I have three other sons who will gladly take your place as heir.” 

“They won’t need to take my place.” His mother screamed as he blasted a wall of fire at his father. He yelled over his shoulder. “Go. Now.” 

Fire blasted back against his own and he stumbled from the force. His mother didn’t leave. He was going to yell again but a dark mass formed behind him. 

It was shadows. 

Eris spread his fire wider hoping the wall would block them from view. His mother screamed when Azriel stepped out and grabbed her. 

“Go, get her out of here.” Eris said in a lower tone hoping Beron didn’t hear them.  

He didn’t look back to see if they had listened, only prayed they were out of sight as he thrusted another blast forward. Eris dropped his shield of fire first, quickly dodging his father’s flames to the right. Trees in the courtyard caught the flames. He sprinted around as his father grew more visibly aggressive. 

One of them will die tonight. 

He hoped it wasn’t him. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Keep her safe. The shadows whispered and Azriel shadow walked them to a pavilion on the second floor. He helped the Lady steady herself while Beron and Eris fought below them. 

“You saved me.” She whispered. 

Cut her binds and give her the Truth-Teller. 

Azriel didn’t reply to her and was already performing the motions before his shadows even whispered to him. He unsheathed his blade and cut through the rope. As she rubbed her wrists he held it out, handle first, to her. She stared down at it. It reminded him of when he gave this blade to Elain. She had the same blank expression on her face when she finally took it from him. His eyes trailed over to her sleeves; patterns of autumn flowers sewn into them. He knew what to do. Her gaze snapped up to his and he nodded. 

The noises from Beron and Eris’s fire battle came back into his focus. Looking down, several trees were on fire and Eris was starting to look fatigued. It amazed him that none of the guards had come- almost as if they knew better. Azriel held out his hand and she took it. He pulled her tight and they disappeared into the shadows. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Eris was starting to work up a sweat. His father was strong. Each blast of fire he dodged, he could feel the heat of it. His own magic was barely making a dent. The next blast went past him and hit the trees, breaking and setting a few on fire. The whole courtyard would be ablaze if one of them didn’t end it soon. He couldn’t afford to look to see where Azriel went with his mother. 

Though his question was answered when shadows, almost like a void, appeared behind his father. Beron didn’t sense it. Eris froze and a blast of fire hit his arm, making him scream as it burned away the sleeves of his shirt and scorched his skin. He could hear his father laughing while he tried to shake it out. 

“I should have known you were too soft for the throne when I banished that bastard child,” Beron spat out. “I will make you watch me behead your  whore of a mother before I finally rid myself of you.” 

Eris didn’t respond to the taunt. He was too busy staring wide eyed at the scene before him. His mother and Azriel stepped out of the void, his mother holding a dagger in her hand. He’d never seen her look so vicious. Azriel disappeared and Beron seemed to realize a moment too late, someone was behind him. Eris’s jaw dropped as his mother stabbed the dagger into the back of Beron’s neck. Azriel appeared beside Eris. He grabbed him and a moment later they were right in front of Beron, stepping out of the shadows. 

Eris took the handle and pulled the dagger out with his unharmed arm. He set it ablaze and stabbed his father directly in his heart. The flames turned blue, Eris pouring all of his magic out while twisting that dagger. Beron was yelling and screaming but Eris couldn’t hear it over the roar of the flames. Why was left of Beron fell to the ground, sliding off the dagger and the flames disappeared. For a brief moment, everything was silent. 

Then the magic came. 

It hit him with such force, he stumbled and dropped the blade. There was a loud crack, like the sound of lightning. Maybe it was actual lightning, considering how a flash nearly blinded his vision. He doubled over, unable to stand with the amount of power washing over him. Darkness was swirling around him. He knew he was changing; then the darkness swallowed him whole. 

~*~*~*~*~

Azriel steadied Áine, pulling her back away from the scene before them. She sobbed as she watched Eris set Beron ablaze. They watched him crumple to the ground and Eris stared down at him, breathing heavily. Then the lightning strike came, causing him and Áine to jolt in shock. Azriel felt horrified watching Eris double over, flames engulfing him. He didn’t realize his shadows had left him until they started swirling around Eris. 

From the shadows the beast will rise. 

“We need to get back,” he whispered, pulling Áine with him as he moved quickly away from the scene before them. 

“What’s happening? Why,” she didn’t finish her question.

The shadows formed an enormous black sphere around Eris for a moment. When they broke apart a beast stood in his place. High Lords rarely showed their beast forms- save for Tamlin who didn’t use much magic to generate his own. He had seen Rhys and Helion’s in battle. Outside of them, Azriel had never seen another High Lord’s beast. Yet before him was the Beast of Autumn. A vicious wolf with red fur and flames on his ears, paws, and tail. He snarled and rows of sharp teeth flashed.  

The wolf-like beast tilted his head up and howled. A haunting and loud howl that seemed to echo after he dropped his head back down. The amber eyes of the beast looked to Azriel and Áine. Az wondered if Eris was in control or if the magic was too new and raw. He grabbed Áine’s arm, ready to winnow if Eris charged at them.  

Thankfully that wasn’t necessary. His shadows circled the beast again and Azriel watched, almost dumbfounded as they blocked him from view again. When they swirled, breaking up and departing, Eris stood back in the beast's place, almost glowing with his new found power. The shadows returned to Azriel.

Our mate is safe. They whispered. 

What? 

Azriel’s gaze snapped back to Eris and he felt it. A knot in his chest with a taunt tether to the new High Lord before him. Eris must have felt it too, from the shock etched in his features. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Azriel said and dropped his grip from the Áine.

Eris seemed to snap out of his daze also. With a fury he stomped up to where they stood, stopping before Azriel and looking him over. 

“Did you know?” He hissed. 

The power coming off of him reminded Azriel when Rhys was newly crowned. The next few days would be volatile at best, but he knew Eris knew that. So he had no issue giving the new High Lord an attitude. He huffed and shook his head. 

“Of course I didn’t know,” he replied back smartly. 

He watched with a frown as some of his shadows left him to float to Eris. They swirled around him despite him trying to shoo them away. Áine gasped and they both looked at her. 

“You’re mates,” she said in almost a whisper. 

“I do not need a mate,” Eris said with such vitriol that Azriel would have believed it if the bond didn’t hum something different. He looked to his mother, still scowling. “Nor do I have time for it. Gather the court mother, while I go see where my brothers ran off to. There is much more work to be done even with him dead.” He looked back to the body on the ground. “Have my guards move him as well.”

Eris winnowed away now that the wards responded to him, leaving them standing alone in the courtyard. Áine looked at Azriel, meekness seeping back into her demeanor. 

“He doesn’t mean it,” her voice was soft. She went to reach out but thought better of it. “Don’t go just yet.”

“My allegiance is to the Night Court,” he replied. “My presence will complicate things.” 

He didn’t like how sadly she looked at him. “I understand. You’re welcome to come back when things have settled.” 

He gave her a sideways glance. “Isn’t that up to your son?” 

She tilted her chin up in a way that reminded him of Nesta. He wondered what she was like before Beron carved out her soul. He wondered if she could get it back now that he was dead. With an air of authority she had not possessed before she replied. 

“He may be High Lord but I am his mother. I will not allow him to make my same mistakes. Go to your High Lord and High Lady, tell them Beron is dead and to have a drink for me in celebration.” 

Instead of walking away she walked towards Beron’s body. She knelt down and picked up his knife, not even bothering to look at her dead husband. She stood and with her chin still high she walked back to him and held it out. He took it back without a word. 

“I’ll be expecting you in the future, shadowsinger.” She said with a tone of finality before leaving him there and walking back towards the house. 

Next chapter

#acotar #eris vanserra #eris acotar #azriel #azriel acotar #high lord eris #azris #azris fanfiction #pro eris vanserra #pro azriel #omg they were roommates #Ding dong beron’s dead #from the shadows the beast will rise #chapter 4

[separatist-apologist]

Right Where You Left Me

If our love died young, I can't bear witness

Chapter 6: Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead

Read more: AO3 (I can't find my chapter 5 link whoops)

Summary: Unlock the bathroom door, Lucien.

“Wake up,” Eris called, flinging Lucien’s bedroom door open theatrically. His eldest brother grasped the neck of a half empty bottle of whiskey, reminding Lucien that it was Beron’s funeral today. Lucien groaned, wanting to retreat back to the dream where Elain had been sitting so nicely in his lap—naked, of course. Reality was nothing like his fantasies, no matter how hard he tried. In fact, Beron’s death was the only good thing he had and, judging by how Eris swayed on his feet, laying his father to rest was guaranteed to be a shit show of the highest order.

“Did you bring me breakfast?” Lucien asked, jerking his head towards the bottle as he sat up. Eris thrust it into Lucien’s chest, flopping onto the bed. They weren’t close and had never been and yet Lucien could see the pain on his brothers face. Lucien accepted the whiskey, taking a shot and cringing against the taste.

“I’m glad he’s fucking dead,” Eris whispered. “So fucking glad.”

And yet something shadowed over Eris’s features, betraying his words. Eris might be glad for Beron’s death but Lucien knew it was more complicated than that. There was grief, too. Grief for what they might have had, for the person they loved despite his cruelty, for the love they’d always wanted and would now be forever denied. If he said any of that to Eris he’d get a swift punch to the gut so instead, Lucien just agreed. “Me too.”

Eris ambled out a moment later, muttering softly to himself. Even drunk, Eris managed to look immaculate in his suit, not a strand of hair out of place. Lucien wouldn’t be putting on nice clothes, not for Beron. He flung on some jean and a simple v-necked black shirt. He slid on his dirty white converse and left his hair around his face. Beron would have hated to see Lucien dressed this way, so casually. It was fitting end for his father, to learn he couldn’t control them. Eris, his prized son, was unravelling despite Beron’s attempts to bottle Eris of all emotions and Lucien, his least favorite son, would be dressed no better than if he were going to the bar.

He wasn’t the only one. Conall was in board shorts and a Hawaiian t-shirt that was unbuttoned, revealing his vacation tan. Tanwen was bedecked in gold jewelry and on his way to being as drunk as Eris. Cadmus was wearing a suit and running shoes as he poured tequila shots for their former step-mother Stacey, dressed in a black bodycon dress that wouldn’t have seemed out of place at a dance club, and current step-father Helion, in an equally nice suit and shoes. That was their mothers influence Lucien knew. He’d seen her for only a moment, hair pulled in an elegant chignon, pearls draped around her neck.

“We can’t just dump him in a hole somewhere?” Tanwen asked when Lucien bound in, gesturing for Cadmus to pour him a shot, too. Stacey smiled, her long red nails clacking softly against the wood of Beron’s bar. “Eris wrote a fucking speech.”

“It better be telling him to go fuck himself,” Conall muttered. “Or I’m going to interrupt the way you do at weddings.”

“That’s not how funerals work,” Helion explained patiently.

“It is now,” Lucien disagreed, taking the shot of tequila from his brother. “If we don’t speak now, Beron might rest in peace.”

“That would be a fucking tragedy,” Eris added from the doorway.

“Don’t ruin this for you mother,” Helion warned all of them. “She’d worked very hard to make this a nice day.”

“What else is new?” Eris demanded, his face red from a mixture of anger and alcohol. “She spent decades making every day nice for him and look where it got her?”

“It’s not like Beron ever made anything nice for her,” Tanwen added.

“Don’t,” Amera’s voice murmured from the door. They all turned, even Stacey, with the same guilty looks. Amera was elegant in black, the picture of mourning though if she’d done any actual mourning or had celebrated, only Helion truly knew. “He gave me the five of you. What else could I ask for?”

Lucien looked down at his feet but Eris wasn’t willing to back down. “That’s a low goddamn bar.”

“Maybe,” Amera agreed, her heels clicking on the wood floor. “But you are going to sit at this service for me. Silently,” she added.

“He hurt us, mom,” Tanwen whispered, saying the words out loud. None of them had ever dared, had been taught by Beron that feelings were for the weak, were for women. “You can’t ask us to pretend he was a good man.”

“I’m not asking that,” she informed Tanwen, her expression softening. “I’m asking you not to cause a scene and prove him right. It’s what he would want, to see you all fighting. Don’t give him your grief or your anger. Give him nothing at all.”

“Fine. I’m not changing, though,” Tanwen grumbled, having been properly shamed. Helion rolled his eyes from behind Tanwen’s back.

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” she assured him with a sweet smile. “Get through the service and let it out at the barbeque this afternoon.”

Lucien had been unaware his mother planned to barbeque. He clearly wasn’t the only one. Eris whipped out his phone when he heard the news, likely penciling it in on his calendar like a freak. With the murmured noises of appreciation, Amera turned to Lucien.

“I hope you don’t mind that I invited Elain and Ivy.”

As if Lucien ever minded a chance to look at Elain or spend time with his daughter. Ivy didn’t know he was her father despite the interactions that had been occurring between them. He’d overheard Ivy asking Elain if Lucien was another fun uncle and Elain, to her credit, had said no. How much longer she intended to keep this information from the girl was a mystery to Lucien and one he was trying to respect, hard as it was. There was a fragile, if not sexually charged peace between him and Elain.

“Fine with me,” he assured his mother, ignoring how her eyes bore through his skin. Knowing he’d see Elain kept Lucien in check during the service. It was more networking event than funeral. Even Eris managed to keep it together with the shortest eulogy ever— “Beron was a man who lived, once. And now he’s dead.”

Lucien and his brothers chuckled softly, ignoring the surprise from the rest of the room. Beron, with his reputation for cruelty in the board room, could not have been considered a family man among his peers. If Eris was unwilling to continue the charade, that was Beron’s fault. Amera made no apologies for any of them, her smile unwavering even when Beron was lowered in the ground.

“Do you think there’s a hell?” Cadmus asked when it was all over, sitting shotgun in Tanwen’s SUV. No one answered, the mood solemn as they sobered up. Lucien was grateful to escape the philosophical questions for a beer. Wherever Beron was, whatever waited for him, Lucien only knew that he’d escaped the consequences for his earthly actions.

“It’s a little early to be drinking, don’t you think?” Eris asked Lucien outside in the yard, feet planted on the flagstones that lined the glittering blue pool.

“You’re one to talk.”

Eris only shrugged, amber eyes tortured. “I haven’t stopped since I got here.”

Lucien looked over at his elder brother. “Why did you tell him? About Ivy?”

Eris’s whole body caved inwards. “I was stupid. I thought…I thought he’d work to shield you from the worst. Please don’t punch me for saying this, but the Archeron’s were trailer trash—” Lucien’s hand curled into a fist and Eris held up his palm, backing up a step. “A girl like that nabbing a guy like you…she’d have been set for life. I was trying to protect you. I didn’t think he’d pay her to keep the baby or secret, I thought he’d make sure she didn’t come after you so you couldn’t finish college.”

“Who asked you to do that?” Lucien demanded. Eris’s face darkened visibly.

“No one had to. You think I wanted to keep coming around this shit hole once I got out? But I did, for you, and Tanwen and Connal and Cadmus. Fuck, Lucien. I could have vanished once that bastard gave me my trust but I knew what he was like better than you ever will. I took the brunt of his wrath far longer than I ever wanted in order to spare the rest of you. You didn’t have to ask me to, and I’m not asking for thanks or whatever. But don’t you fucking stand there all high and mighty and question my choices when I was the only real father you ever goddamn had.”

Lucien wanted to punch his brother. Wanted to slam his fist in Eris’s bright red, self-righteous face. He reached for his eldest brother, clapping him into a rib bruising hug.

“Oh fuck you,” Eris grumbled, hands hanging limply at his side.

“We deserved better,” Lucien told his brother before pulling away, reveling in the strangeness of being soft instead of violent.

“Yeah well…you can break the Vanserra curse of fathers, I guess.”

Lucien smiled softly. He supposed he could.

~*~

Elain ignored the incoming call on her cellphone as she walked up the circular drive of the Vanserra home. Her father wanted to see the four of them—Nesta, Feyre, Ivy, and Elain. He didn’t bother calling Nesta or Feyre, opting to reach out to Elain to organize everything. She was avoiding him, unsure she wanted to have a dinner like that. She certainly felt more than a little resentment that, instead of reaching out to each daughter individually, he just assumed she would do all the heavy lifting so he could see his eldest and youngest daughters.

Ivy tugged, smelling the chlorine of the pool before they ever made it to the yard. Elain remembered it well, having snuck in through the backyard many, many times as a teenager. The Vanserra pool wasn’t some above ground monstrosity with a consistent depth. It was built painstakingly into the ground, had a shallow end that gradually became deeper. It was the kind of pool built for a nice hotel or people who had more money than they knew what to do with.

Ivy waded in the second she saw it, shedding the terry cloth, unicorn printed bathing dress Elain had put over her pink tutued swimsuit. Amera Vanserra and her new husband—Helion something—-were waiting with pool noodles and a massive flamingo shaped floaty. Elain watched Ivy wade towards Helion, his dark skin gleaming in the hot sun, thinking the scene was too domestic to be the reception of a funeral.

“Who knew they wanted grandchildren so badly,” Eris Vanserra commented, sidling up to Elain with a glass of amber liquid in hand. His eyes were hazy, unfocused. She wondered if he was drunk.

“Maybe you should give them some,” Elain suggested. Eris snorted.

“Hardly. Why? Does your friend want children?”

Elain rolled her eyes theatrically. “She does teach kindergarten, you know.” Eris frowned, as though the thought hadn’t occurred to him until that very moment. Perhaps it hadn’t. Eris left Elain at the edge of the water, giving Lucien the opportunity to join her. He offered her a beer, the top already twisted off.

“Not a lot of mourning happening,” Elain commented, accepting the green bottle without hesitation. Lucien shrugged casual shoulders, his vivid red hair lovely beneath the afternoon sun.

“He was a bastard no one will miss.”

Elain could hardly argue that, though it was strange to hear Lucien say what she was sure everyone was privately thinking. Looking around, people laughed and talked and drank but no one cried and it seemed as though no one was exchanging fond memories of Beron. Beron’s second wife, the young Stacey, was walking for the pool in a red bikini, glancing towards some of the older men still in suits despite the heat, as though her next husband might be waiting. A buffet of food had been lain out over a table and a casual number of people grazed while Tanwen Vanserra grilled meat in a comical chefs hat and an apron that suggested more than one kind of meat was available, depending on who was asking.

“I’ve been thinking,” Lucien continued, his own drink paused halfway towards his lips. “About being a father.”

Her heart sank. “Oh?”

“I want you to tell Ivy I’m her dad.”

“Oh.” Elain had been dreading that conversation and the questions that would follow. “When?”

Lucien glanced towards the pool where Ivy was pretending to drown a theatrical Helion. Amera was grinning from her place on the opposite edge, her pale legs dipped into sparkling blue water.

“Maybe this upcoming weekend?”

She nodded, chewing the inside of her cheek. “What day will you be back?” She’d need to plan, but if Lucien didn’t fly back in until Friday, she could set up a nice Saturday, maybe with a trip to the zoo and lunch at Ivy’s favorite place where they could break the news gently before he left again—

“What do you mean? I’m not leaving, Elain.”

His words stole the breath from her chest. She felt both anxious and elated at the news Lucien intended to stick around. It was both best and worst case scenario. She wondered if Lucien wasn’t reading her mind when he said, “I’m not here to take her from you. I told you…I just want a piece of what you have.”

Elain nodded, wondering what Nesta would say when she found out. Her options were limited…she could offer him a place in their life and hope Lucien stayed and didn’t become his father or she could shut him out and try and battle him in court. He had more money, more time…he could take Ivy from her. At least this way she held on to what little control she already had.

Besides, it was impossible to deny she didn’t feel something for him. Standing beside him, his broad, muscular body casting a shadow over her, Elain was half thinking about what he’d look like in the water, what his skin would feel like, wet beneath her fingers…

“Elain?”

“Okay. This weekend?”

Lucien nodded, his russet eyes glittering beneath the bright sunlight. “What are you thinking? I swear I’m not trying to take her from you—”

She grabbed his muscled bicep and led him across the patio, satisfied Ivy was fine with his mother. All Ivy talked about anymore was Amera and how nice and pretty and fun she was. Elain was certain Ivy would be happiest to learn she was getting to keep Amera, even in the wake of a new father.

“You’re freaking me out,” Lucien complained when Elain got him into the house. She hesitated, forgetting the way to his bedroom. Lucien barrelled into her, nearly knocking her to the wood floor of the living room. “You’re not about to tell me you’re engaged, are—”

She silenced him with a kiss, their mouths colliding hard enough to make her teeth rattle.

“Oh. Oh,” Lucien said against her lips, reaching for the back of her neck the moment he realized what was happening. It was a terrible idea to kiss him where so many people could see them. Worse, still, to kiss him when she knew he wanted more than she could give him. She didn’t bother reflecting on what it said about her when Lucien dragged her into a nearby bathroom, locking the door behind them nor did she contemplate her situation when he hoisted her up on the marble sink counter so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He tasted like beer and a lot of it and Elain knew his lack of judgment was likely encouraged by the alcohol lingering in his system. She didn’t care.

“What’s under your dress?” he gasped breathlessly, eyes rolling in the back of his head when she nipped at the skin behind his ear lobe. His hair tickled her cheek and Elain couldn’t resist raking her fingers through it. He was so damn lovely and so easy to like that grinding against him in a beach themed bathroom was hardly putting her out.

He hissed when his hand found she was, indeed, wearing nothing at all beneath her rose colored sundress. She hadn’t done it with the intention of making his day—she was out of clean laundry. Not that Lucien needed to know that.

“No point,” she whispered, kissing down his neck, her hips pushing herself into his hand. Lucien slid a finger into her body, groaning loud enough anyone walking through the house would know what they were up to. Elain was doing a moderately better job keeping herself quiet but that was thanks to Lucien’s mouth slanted over her home, his tongue caressing her own, tasting her like she was something decadent. The sensation zapped through her, heightening her arousal edging upwards by his slow pumping hand. She wanted his cock inside her, not his fingers, clumsily unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, pulling them down just enough to remove him from the confines of his clothes.

Lucien withdrew his finger long enough to line the head of his already erect penis against her soaking entrance, sliding inside roughly with a gasping shudder. “I’ve been thinking about this since the last time,” he admitted, holding her thigh to better angle her on the edge of the sink.

“Me too,” she admitted, hooking her ankles around his hips. Lucien thrust hard, betraying how little control he had. That suited her just fine. She didn’t need some long drawn out thing, not this time. She was too keyed up, her pleasured building hotly with each new stroke, each new rub of his thumb against her clit.

Elain came seconds before Lucien, just as a loud pounding on the door sent her falling into the basin of the sink.

“Are you two for real?” one of his brothers shouted. “I have to pee!”

“Shouldn’t have drank so much,” Lucien replied, hastily wiping come from her knee.

“Prick,” his brother muttered. Elain pressed her hand against her mouth, suppressing giggles. Lucien smiled, pants still around his legs. Elain righted herself on the sink, waiting for him to say something. He merely leaned towards her, kissing her softly.

“GET. OUT!” the banging persisted and Lucien yanked his pants up over his hips and Elain hopped off the sink to let Cadmus in. “I thought you were better than this…better than him,” Cadmus grumbled before slamming the door shut behind him. Elain looked up at Lucien, who merely shrugged.

She was beginning to wonder what it might mean if she was good enough for him.

If she could belong to him.

#elucien #elucien fic #elain x lucien #elucien fanfic #idiots to lovers excellence