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#mating bond
thelov3lybookworm · 21 hours
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Juice Stains
Summary: A day alone with the babe. What could go wrong?
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A/n: because @secret-third-thing's this post inspired me to have eris washing socks lol you can all thank her for inspiring me 🤭
anyways, enjoyy!!
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No one told Eris that giving a two year old child a glass of juice would result in him cursing his own existence.
His wife had gone to visit her friend in summer court, only just getting the chance to leave Amelia in his care since her birth. Eris had forced her to go himself, practically spewing a speech to get her nerves to calm.
Oh how he regretted that now as he rubbed the tiny fabric against itself in his hands, the water constantly running proving to be of no help against the stubborn stain of the orange juice spilled on the sock.
And the culprit of this crime? She was happily laughing away as she watched her father suffer for her actions.
Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Eris sighed, wondering how the hell Y/n handled situations like this. His back was screaming in pain, his fingers cramping after long moments of clutching at the tiny sock of his daughter.
The stain simply refused to come off, only adding to the list of things Eris was frustrated about as he leaned back, trying to straighten his back and get rid of at least some of the pain, his eyes wandering around the room.
It was a mess, and that was putting it lightly.
On the bed lay the heap of little clothes Eris had been looking through earlier to dress his little princess after her bath, wanting to pick the most comfortable and fashionable outfit suitable for someone so important.
On the couch and in front of it lay Amelia's toys, thrown around in the fit of rage she'd been before he handed her the juice.
Which, somehow, looked like the worst decision he'd made in his life.
The glass lay abandoned on the floor next to Amelia, who was chewing on her mitten like it was the tastiest fabric in the world, juice still pooled on the floor, slowly spreading.
Releasing a breath of frustration, Eris wrung the sock in his hand, then turned and stalked over to where Amelia sat, the mitten half hanging out of her mouth, her hand covered in saliva from when she had been trying to eat herself.
Cannibalism?
Eris knew it was ridiculous to think that, but how was he to shut his mind down when he was too tired to even blink?
"Come on, its nap time." He muttered lowly, leaning down to gather Amelia in his arms, who offered him a toothy grin for his suffering.
Despite her making him work so much, he could not stay mad. Hell, he could not even bring himself to be irritated or fault her for his tiredness. She was too adorable for that.
As he slowly set her down on her back on the fluffy mattress, uncaring that she was laying diagonally on the bed, he let himself smile at her.
"Are you happy after making daddy work so much?"
She squealed as he buried his face in her neck, giggling and trying to push him away when he tried to bite at her cheek.
"You deserve that punishment, you know that right?"
Her eyes twinkled back at him, and he sighed, settling down next to her, his body from the knee down hanging off.
"I'm resting a little before mommy returns. Remind me to clean up before then, will you?"
He patted her back, gently humming a tune to get her to sleep as she babbled out an answer he was too tired to even try and decipher. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, even though she was the one who should have been sleeping.
No, she stayed awake, talking to herself and playing with the wet sock he still had in his hand and giggling at the wet splat the material made when she slapped it onto her father's face.
She did not, in fact, wake him up before mommy arrived.
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Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo
@sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175
@starsinyourseyes @starswholistenanddreamsanswered
@cumuluscranium @byyalady @lilah-asteria @girlswithimagination @gardenofrunar @girlswithimagination
@sunnyspycat
Eris Vanserra Taglist: @fell-in-luvs @azrielsmate3 @tele86 @caraaaaugh
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soulessjourney · 3 months
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Hello love I have a request that I would love you to write!
Cassian or Azriel I am not picky and Y/N
Y/n gets into an argument with Cassian and or Azriel about how they are not attentive, and they’re for them anymore and says that if things don’t change they’re leaving. Things do not change and it is the night that the inner circle goes into Hewn city. at the gala, Eris ask Y/N to dance. And one of the boys is really brooding just standing in a corner just watching YN and Eris dance and then is the part where Taylor goes. “I can see you staring honey like he’s just your understudy like you get your knuckles, bloody for me” I want their eyes to connect from across the dance floor. That would be great. then I am giving you full creative freedom with the undertones of exile by Taylor Swift. give me all the angst you can give the more the better.
I absolutely love this idea! I hope that I live up to your expectations and provided enough angst to feed that burning hunger of yours! Also apologies that it has taken me so long, in all honesty I kept forgetting what I was writing and I wanted it to be PERFECT.
Exile
Paring: Azriel x Reader
Word count: 4k
Summary: Azriel starts to distance himself from you. Fed up with his disappearing acts, you confront him, only for it to end in driving you away entirely.
Warnings: Angst (and lots of it), Fighting, Language, Hurt and comfort (from Mor)
If there was one thing Azriel was known for, it was his dedication to his work and his undying loyalty to Rhysand. He was also your mate, someone who meant the entire world to you. You had met Azriel about two hundred years ago when you started your bakery. He came in after watching you struggle with carrying the large bags of flour, extending a helping hand. Since then, he started coming daily to see what new goods you were cooking up, and that's when he asked you on your first date.
The first date was a bit awkward as he shied away, speaking in such a hushed tone that you had to repeatedly ask him to repeat himself. Despite Azriel's strength, you loved his shy side. There was something so docile and soft about it, and you were the only one who truly got to see that side of him.
When the bond snapped into place, both of you were fighting over who would mix the flour, ending with both of you covered from head to toe. It was when he heard your infectious laugh that he felt it, and it was obvious when you gave him that loving gaze he was drawn to. Your eyes were so soft, and your smile was wide. So, that evening, you made him his favorite treat and offered it to him, which soon led to Azriel making sure Rhysand got it through Cassian’s head that you two were not to be bothered for a few weeks.
Those were the moments you missed more than anything. You missed curling up with Azriel as you read the same book, often sharing your reactions. You missed hiding from him to scare him, only to fail the moment his shadows shot out to greet you after a long day. You missed your mate, and your happy memories felt like a fever dream. He was starting to become a distant memory, and part of you wasn’t even sure if you wanted to put up a fight.
You couldn't recall the last time you had spent more than a few moments with him. Lately, he had been staying at the House of Wind to be closer to Rhysand, ready for any last-minute missions that might arise. Initially, you didn't mind, considering Rhysand's frequent missions, especially when Feyre was pregnant and needed his support. However, what began to trouble you was that he never invited you to join him, nor did he visit your shared home to see you.
Then you heard about the time he started spending with Elain. You weren't bothered by her, as you couldn't blame her for shutting everyone out. Her entire life had been stripped away in a matter of moments, and now she was essentially immortal, with a mate forced upon her. However, understanding also brought weariness. You could sense that she had developed feelings for your mate, and Azriel, being who he is, most likely was unaware of the affection she held towards him. Strangely, this knowledge made you want to be around him more, but you didn't know how to navigate the situation.
Azriel had been a significant presence in your life, and the sensation of him slipping away was something you loathed. At some point, he had closed off the bond, making it nearly impossible to reach out to him through it. Running your hands over your face, you attempted to dispel the exhaustion before deciding to visit the House of Wind to ensure Azriel was at least alive.
Your arrival at the House of Wind did not go unnoticed. Cassian, upon spotting you ascending to the training area, made your presence known. "Y/N! You're here. We've been wondering when you would show up. We were starting to think you didn't like us," he teased, capturing everyone's attention.
Clearing your throat, you offered him a small smile as the breeze tousled your hair. "Yeah, things have been hectic at the bakery. Have you seen Azriel? It's been hard to find him lately," you inquired, noticing Cassian's expression contorting into one of pure confusion.
"What do you mean? He said he was with you this morning," Cassian replied, scrutinizing your every move. Dread began to fill your body as the realization that Azriel had even been deceiving the others dawned on you.
Forcefully laughing, you scratched the back of your head, clearing your throat. "No, he was! By 'lately,' I meant during the day since he's usually all over because of the missions Rhys keeps assigning him," you explained, even your forced smile fading as Cassian's gaze filled with concern and pity.
"Y/N, Rhys hasn't assigned him anything for a while, not after what happened with Feyre and your injury. Rhys wanted him to be around you more because of that close call. Are you telling me you haven't seen him?" Cassian inquired, raising a brow and challenging you to lie. By now, the entire area had cleared out except for Nesta, who stood in the background watching you and Cassian, her jaw tense. She knew something, and you would extract it from her if necessary.
"No, I haven't. I mean, he comes home once in a blue moon, but then he just sleeps in the guest room, and he's gone by the time I wake up," you admitted, your shoulders sagging. "I really miss him, Cass. The nightmares are starting to return. He's not avoiding me because he blames himself for what happened, right?" Just a few months ago, Azriel had angered someone, resulting in a dagger being firmly lodged in your side. Recalling that moment, you realized Azriel wasn't present when Cassian and Feyre found you on the floor of the bakery's kitchen that morning.
You heard Nesta curse before she joined Cassian's side. "I spoke to the idiot already, and I thought I got through to him. He's with Elain in the garden. I saw them just before training started, and considering how often they spend time there, he should still be there," she divulged, her expression shifting from anger to guilt. You wanted to be furious, but part of you couldn't muster the anger towards her. Nesta had tried her best to handle the situation discreetly, but with her knowing, you wondered just how long Azriel had been sneaking around with Elain while deceiving the rest of his family.
You hadn’t heard anything else Nesta had said as your feet carried you through the house. Just as you turned the corner, you collided with a solid chest, causing you to stumble back. Looking up, you sucked in a deep breath as your eyes locked with a pair of hazel ones. "Azriel," you breathed, reaching out towards him. Your hand fell to your side when he pulled away from you. "I've missed you. You're never around anymore," your voice thick with emotion as you struggled to say anything beyond the standard 'I miss you'.
Azriel glanced over your shoulder, his expression hardening. "You're not supposed to be here. Why are you here?" His eyes eventually met yours as a scoff escaped your mouth. You hadn’t seen your mate for the past few weeks, and that’s what he had to say to you? That you weren’t supposed to be there, trying to ensure he was alive?
"You're joking, right? Azriel, I haven’t seen you for weeks, and that’s all you have to say? A hello would’ve been nice at least," you snapped, crossing your arms. Rolling his eyes, he turned on his heel and began to walk away. "No, you don’t get to walk away from me, Azriel. That’s not fair. You don’t get to pull a disappearing act without some sort of explanation. You don’t get to lie to your family and expect not to get caught," you snapped, following after him. As the two of you entered the dining area, you missed the others sitting at the table, their conversations cut short as you stomped after Azriel.
Azriel stopped and spun towards you, his wings flaring slightly. "My gods, Y/N, can’t you just get off my back? I’m not going to be there every single second of the day with you. You need to learn how to live without me for once in your life." Any sound that filled the room suddenly fell silent as you took a step back, feeling as though he had slapped you.
"Oh, shit." Looking around, you came face to face with your family, all silent as they watched you. Nesta was glaring daggers at Azriel, while Cassian and Rhysand were positioned to intervene if things went south. Mor and Feyre looked at you, their faces filled with guilt. Then there was Elain, sitting there with the audacity to appear clueless about what was happening. Your entire family was there to witness the potential downfall of your relationship with Azriel. Great.
"What's your issue, Y/N? Why are you on my case today? I haven’t done anything to deserve this nagging. Gods, it’s like after you healed, you became an overbearing mess," Nesta slammed her hands down on the table and stood, prompting Cassian to grab hold of her to prevent her from lunging at Azriel across the room.
A dry laugh escaped you as you narrowed your eyes. “Overbearing? Azriel, you haven’t been around in weeks! You can’t even stand to be in the same room as me. And overbearing? Day to day, I have to deal with the people you anger, and I constantly fear for my life because of your job. I took a damn dagger to the side and almost died because of your job. I’m sorry if accepting you for who you are and your job is overbearing. I’m sorry that worrying for you is just so awful. You’ve changed, Azriel, and I don’t know if it’s because of the damn elephant in the room or if you’ve simply given up. I’m tired of dealing with the nightmares alone, and I want you back by my side when I wake up screaming because I constantly feel that dagger ripping me apart.” Tears streamed down your face as you looked around.
Rhysand had slowly made his way towards you with Mor by his side, the two members of this family, besides Cassian, whom you trusted with your life. Glaring down at the ground, you looked up at Azriel, your face void of any emotion. “If you can’t clean up your act, I’m done.” Azriel froze as a flood of fear slammed into you. He slipped, and you could tell the moment he slammed those walls back up.
“Clean up my act? You’re the one to talk. It’s like ever since you woke up, you became afraid of the world all over again. You shouldn’t need us to walk you to work and back. You shouldn’t need us hanging around the store all day just because you’re scared of someone showing up. I can’t stand to have a mate who is so fearful of the world.” You dropped your shoulders in defeat at his words. It was true; after what happened, you had been terrified of being in that shop, fearing they would come back and finish the job.
Rhysand was next to you in a second, followed by Mor, who caught you as your knees gave out. “That is no way to speak to your mate, Azriel,” Rhysand spat. “You sat around moping because you wanted one. The Mother blesses you with one, and this is how you thank her? Seriously?” Rhysand crossed his arms, the room noticeably darkening.
“Well, maybe she made a mistake. Maybe Y/N isn’t supposed to be my mate. We have nothing in common, meanwhile, Elain and I do.” The moment the words left his mouth, your head snapped in Elain’s direction as you clenched your jaw.
Looking back at Azriel, you shook your head. “I mean it, Azriel. If you can’t clean up your act, I’m done. Don’t bother looking for me until you figure out your mess. I’m done,” you spat, winnowing from your very spot into your room. Grabbing a duffel bag, you began to cram things into it just as you heard footsteps sprinting down the hall towards your door, and the echoes of voices calling out to the owner of those steps.
As Azriel threw open the door, you looked at him as he reached out for you, his mouth opening to say something. Before you could hear what he had to say, you disappeared, leaving him standing in the middle of your room.
---
It had been a month since you chose to seclude yourself in Mor's guest bedroom. As the door slowly opened, light flooded into the dark room, and Mor stepped inside. Sitting on the bed, she gently rubbed your back to draw your attention. "Hey there, sweetheart. It's time to get you out of this room. Velaris has started to notice your absence now that the bakery is closed," she said softly, sensing your reluctance. "He still asks about you, but he's also spending more time with her. Rhys has tried talking sense into him, Cassian kicked his ass, and the girls have been giving him the cold shoulder. I'm sorry, my love, but perhaps attending the Gala in Hewn City would do you good," she suggested, brushing your hair away from your face gently.
You nodded and turned onto your side to look at her, a small frown forming on your lips. Mor's gaze softened as she sighed softly. "Come, I want to show you something," she said, gently pulling you out of bed. Standing up, you followed her out of the room toward another one just down the hall. Mor pushed the door open, revealing a mannequin adorned with a stunning deep purple gown featuring delicate beadwork climbing the bodice. The main skirts bore the design of a tree and leaves, with the beads on the skirt representing flowers. It was the most beautiful gown you had ever seen.
"I had it made for you to wear tonight. You deserve to look and feel beautiful. Azriel is taking you for granted. With your beauty and eyes that could bring a man to his knees, this dress is perfect for you," Mor whispered from behind you, resting her hands on your shoulders gently.
A wide smile graced your lips for the first time in a month as you turned to face Mor. "Thank you, Mor. Truly, it means a lot to me that you did this," your words were soft and heartfelt. A sense of brokenness lingered within you, the result of Azriel's neglect over the past month, compounded by the knowledge of his time spent with Elain. Mor guided you to the bathroom, where she helped you into the tub and began to wet and wash your hair.
"You know, we’re all upset with him for treating you like this. Yes, Elain needed help before, but even Nesta started to reprimand him for spending too much time with her. I remember when he first came home after meeting you. He was covered in flowers and had the biggest grin on his face. He couldn't stop talking about you, and Cassian often had to beg him to stop. But then, after one of his missions went awry and you got hurt, everything changed. He refused to see you, or even go near that part of the house. And then he kissed Elain. I thought Nesta was going to tear him to shreds. After that, he began lying to us about spending time with you, even after Rhysand practically forced him out of the garden." Mor's words pierced through you, mentioning the kiss shattered your fragile emotional state.
A wave of despair washed over you. Shoulders slumping, you gazed down at the water surrounding your bare form. "Do you think he still loves me?" you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty. Mor took a deep breath, visibly caught off guard by your question. She hummed softly as she poured water over your head, grappling for the right words.
"I'm sure he does. Azriel is complex, we all know that. For centuries, he's prayed to The Mother for a mate. I heard him whispering a prayer every night until he met you. Then it turned into begging her to ensure your safety. Azriel tends to shut down and push away those closest to him when he's struggling to cope. He avoided Rhysand when he returned from Amarantha's clutches. His treatment of you isn't fair, but I genuinely don't know how to reach him anymore." Mor cleared her throat, rising to her feet. "I'll leave you to dry off and get into a robe. When you're ready, come downstairs, and I'll help you dress and do your hair," she offered with a comforting smile, squeezing your shoulder before exiting the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
It didn’t take long for you to exit the tub once the water turned cold. After drying off your body, you slipped on a black silk robe and began to towel dry your hair. As you made your way towards the stairs, you made a mental note to find a way to thank Mor for everything she had done for you. Nearing the bottom of the steps, you froze upon hearing Mor engaged in a conversation with someone. Peeking around the corner, you spotted Azriel standing with his back to you in the middle of the living room, while Mor stared at him with an intense gaze. “She thinks you don’t love her, Azriel. You’ve pushed her to the brink of giving up,” she snapped, causing him to tense at her words.
Azriel ran his fingers through his hair, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the right words to say. “I do, I just... I don’t know. I haven’t seen her for a month, and I’m starting to go crazy, Mor. I don’t know what to do about it anymore, and it feels like everything I say comes out wrong,” he confessed. You noticed his shadows lurking in the room, beginning to slither their way towards you.
“And what about the kiss, Azriel? You kissed Elain while your own mate was at home, thinking you were off on some mission Rhysand assigned to you,” Mor jabbed a finger into his shoulder. “You gave up, and she kept pushing. This is your doing, and you need to figure it out. She was serious when she told you to clean up your act. Right now, you’re showing her you’ll never change, not after you hadn’t even bothered to come see her for a month knowing she was here. You pushed her aside for Elain. It’s time you finally accept the consequences of your actions, Azriel. If you lose her for good, that’ll be on you.” Before Azriel could respond, he tensed and turned towards you, his eyes widening.
Allowing your gaze to fall into a blank expression, you looked at Mor. “I’m ready,” your voice came out as a whisper, and Mor nodded, shoving past Azriel. You both made your way back up the stairs, leaving Azriel standing alone in the middle of the room. Once again, you were just out of his reach, and once again, he was on the verge of losing you for good.
---
The gala was breathtaking. Witnessing the courts gathering together always brought you immense joy. Tamlin made his way towards you, a wide smile on his face. “Y/N! It’s good to see you again. We've been missing your baked goods dearly,” he grinned, prompting a laugh from you. Born in the Spring court, you had grown close to Tamlin, and it was there that you honed your baking skills while growing up. When the time came for you to seek a new path, Tamlin had let you go, assuring you that you would always have a home to return to.
When Azriel pulled his disappearing acts, leaving you alone with your thoughts, you often debated returning to Spring, where you knew you had a family who would welcome you with open arms. “Thank you, Tamlin. If I'm ever permitted, I’ll be sure to bring you some of my cookies that you drooled over,” you teased, brushing a curl away from your shoulder.
Tamlin looked around, a questioning look flashing across his face. “Where’s your mate? The last time you and I talked, he was glued to your side.” Your eyes dulled slightly as you shrugged. You hadn’t seen Azriel all evening, though you knew he was here as you were constantly followed by a shadow.
Before you could respond, Eris made his appearance, as fashionable as ever. “Y/N, you truly outdid yourself this time. You look absolutely breathtaking in that dress. Shall we have a dance?” Without waiting for your answer, Eris grabbed your hand and led you towards the dance floor, where bodies swirled in a mesmerizing pattern. You and Eris fell into an easy rhythm as he looked down at you. “Sorry to drag you away from Tamlin, but I couldn’t help but notice how sad you looked. Is it because of your mate?” His eyes bore into yours as you sucked in a deep breath.
“It would be a mistake to lie to you,” you grumbled, earning a laugh of agreement from him. “Azriel and I haven’t talked for a good while. He’s been busy with other things,” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact. As you both spun, you caught sight of him standing in the corner of the room, watching you. Your eyes hardened as they locked onto his.
Eris cleared his throat, pulling your attention back to him. “You know, if you need a break from your home, you can stay in my court. We obviously have the room, and I can make sure you get the space you need to think. As much as Morrigan hates me, she’s worried about you to the point where she asked me for help.” Studying his gaze, it wasn’t hard to tell that he was being genuine.
Looking towards Azriel again, you studied him, your eyes narrowing as Elain walked up to him, handing him a glass. Biting back your tears, you let your walls down, throwing every ounce of anger, betrayal, sadness, and fear at him. You watched as he stumbled back slightly, his hand flying up over his chest, his eyes locking onto yours. You watched as Elain reached out to him, running her hand over his arm as she tried to check on him. Eris stopped moving as he stood next to you, watching the interaction between the both of them. “Just say the word, and I can take you away from here,” he whispered.
You waited for him to brush off Elain, but he didn’t. He let her hand rest on his cheek as he kept his eyes on yours, his eyes widening. “He doesn’t care about me anymore, Eris. Take me to your court,” you said, looking up at Eris, who only nodded. You didn’t miss how he glanced at Rhysand and the others, giving them a small nod. You didn’t miss how their shoulders sagged in defeat once they realized you were leaving. You didn’t miss how the crowd began to part as Azriel raced towards you, dropping to his knees in front of you. You watched as his body shook with sobs, how he begged you to stay, begged you to stay by his side. “Where were you when I begged The Mother to bring you back to me? Where were you when I was dying on the kitchen floor of my own bakery after taking a knife for you? Where were you when I woke up screaming for you? Go back to Elain, Azriel. You made your decision.” With that, you turned to Eris, giving him a small nod. With that, the both of you walked away, leaving Azriel on the ground sobbing into his hands before he disappeared from your sight as the crowd closed behind you.
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Rhys: The mating bond is rare! Only if you're very lucky and blessed by the Mother, will you have one.
Rhysand's parents = Mates
Tamlin's parents = Mates
Kallias and Viviane = Mates
LoA and Helion = Possibly mates
Rhys and Feyre = Mates
Nesta and Cassian = Mates
Elain and Lucien = Mates
Me: 5 of these 7 couples/potential couples only met because they traveled out of their home court. So, are mates actually rare, or do they just seem rare because of the lack of movement and interaction between the various Courts and the human lands?
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illyrian-dreamer · 4 months
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Our Girl – Part 9
Azriel x Cassian x fem reader
Summary: You awaken after being rescued by Azriel and Cassian.
Word count: 5.2k
Warnings: Sliiiiight smut suggestions. Funeral/character death
AN: A few time jumps in this second last part to the series folks, hold on tight!
<<< Part 8
You heard sharp breaths leave their noses as you addressed them, each of them turning rigid. 
My mates. They had waited years for those words to fall from your lips so freely. 
Cassian groaned as he lifted himself on strong fists, Azriel already shuffling as they flanked you on either side, wings crammed into your bed, careful not to crush you. 
You offered one arm to each of them, your palms pressed into their too-big hands. Azriel blinked away the tears that stung at his eyes, raising your grazed knuckles and kissing at the sores and scars - a jarring reminder of what you had awoken from. 
Cassian was not one to miss out, and he slipped a muscled arm behind your neck, grasping at Azriel’s shoulder as he pressed his lips to your forehead.
You shuddered a breath, your insides warmed by the affection infiltrating the bond, relishing that feeling of home, of belonging. 
“You are both well? Healed?” you rhasped, your voice barely there. Azriel frowned, immediately reaching for a glass of water and bringing it to your lips. 
“Yes, sweets, we’re alright,” Cassian used a knuckle to brush away the stray drop of water that rolled down your chin. “How is your pain?”
You meant to answer, but Azriel replaced the glass of water with something cold and metallic. Flicking your eyes from the thermometer now pressed against your tongue, it was instinct to scowl up at the Shadowsinger. 
“Really?” you muttered through a full mouth. 
Hazel eyes narrowed slightly as he carefully traced that thin red line. “You’re fighting an infection, love.”
A gentle pull on your chin forced your focus back to Cassian, his eyes warmed with humour at the exchange between his mates. You supposed it was nice, to slip into a reaction so natural, something that had been amiss for years. 
“Your pain?” he pressed.
You shrugged as Azriel gently pulled the thermometer away, shaking it once, twice. Fatigue was heavy on your bones, and your head was throbbing, likely from that infection they mentioned. But the wound at your heart was a dull ache, and you had healed well all things considered. Pealing back the covers, you lifted your nightgown, eying the scar that now ran beside your left breast. 
You were there in an instant, the clang of that awful sword and Beron’s roar in your ears, impending death looming as you remembered the pure dread that consumed you for days. 
You stiffened, eyes turning distant as your mouth quivered with an instant need to cry out. 
Azriel thumbed your lip, cooing softly. “It’s alright my love, you are safe now. You’re ok.”
You drew a long, shaking breath. There would be along road ahead to recover as Beron’s prisoner, that much was clear. 
“Where is he?” you asked with a small voice. 
“Imprisoned, just as you asked.” Cassian's reply was soft as he gently played with a lock of your limp hair.
“And Lucien is…?”
Your mates met each other’s eyes, before your hands were back in theirs, held tightly. 
“I’m sorry my love,” Azriel whispered. Leaning closer, he nudged the bridge of his nose to your crown, pressing closer with comfort.
You swallowed, nodding as tears rolled down your cheeks. That poor male – loyal and kind and better than most. Your heart ached for Feyre and Tamlin. 
“The others?”
“Everyone is safe and well. Beron’s army yielded when he was dragged from the dungeon, and the Illyrians have returned to the camps. Eris is in the process of assuming his role as High Lord – Beron was forced to abdicate by his own council.”
“Tamlin stayed to help mend the damage from the battle. He’s had help from a group of aides and healers,” Cassian added with a smile. 
The smile you forced was barely there, only the corners of your lips turning as your eyes still hung heavy. Your friends, the volunteers - of course they had come. And Tamlin, fighting alongside Illyrians? It was an overwhelming thought. 
There was so much to do, so much to say. But fatigue weighed heavy on your mind and body alike, even your power was impossible to drag up from within. Grieving, celebrating, helping those to heal – it would all have to wait. 
And then there were your mates – confessions and pleas of honesty begging to be unravelled in a mess of emotions you did not yet understand.
Without notice, tears began spilling from your cheeks, rolling down your chin in a the trail down to your chest. 
“You found me,” you whispered hoarsely.
Azriel was wiping at your chin, and Cassian’s lips were at your crown as he replied. “And you fought for us.”
“I was so scared,” you whispered again, your voice wobbling with a half-sob. 
“So were we,” Azriel added softly. 
You blinked between them, a wrangled laugh escaping. It was exhausting, the instant switch between fear, then relief, then grief, then relief again. 
“I think I’m going mad,” you admitted, wiping at your face while you relished in the safety of having your mates by your side. 
“That’s understandable, love,” Azriel smiled softly, eyeing you closely, reading each micro expression with understanding. 
“Besides,” Cassian smirked. “You already were half-mad.”
Another laugh huffed through your chest, heavy and thick with illness. Cassian was grinning, before pecking at your knuckles with affection. The soft thud of Azriel’s heart fastened, and you could sense his joy through the bond as he watched you two. 
Lashes fluttered as sleep tugged at you, but you were reluctant to give in. Time was sacred, you knew that now. 
Azriel’s eyes caught Cassian’s with a quick nod, and it was the later who stood to fetch a vial, the popping of a cork pricking your ears.
Azriel forced your chin to him. “Something Madja has prepared to help with the fever.” There was that sternness in his eyes, a familiar one that he used when anticipating stubbornness. Given you record in refusing medicine, you couldn't blame him. But you wouldn't fight them today – you couldn't if you wanted to. 
The medicine was bitter, but you drank it willingly as Cassian tipped the glass at your lips with gentle hand at the back of your head, Azriel’s watchful eyes tracking each swallow and ensuring the bottle was emptied. 
You rolled your eyes at his keen eye, before settling back into your pillows. 
“I saw that.”
Eyes falling closed thanks to the quick working effects of the medicine, you couldn’t hide your smirk was you wordlessly muttered ‘overbearing mother hens’ through the bond. You knew it worked from Cassian’s snort from the other side of the room, and Azriel’s glow of pride at your use of the bond, despite the message cast through it.
Callused fingers stroked your hair before your pillows were being moved from under you. You blinked up at Cassian as he towered over, helping you recline further. “Go to sleep sweetheart, we’ll be hear when you wake up.” 
It was lulling to hear, and you let your eyes close again, grateful for the comfort of the bed and grateful for your mates – that each of you had made it out alive. 
As sleep almost pulled you under, your eyes fluttered open, and you sat up with rational quickness. “Where even are we?”
Your mates chuckled, Azriel pressed you back into the bed as he shook his head. “Still in Autumn love, but you’re safe.”
“That much I know” you muttered drowsily, sarcasm lacing through as you danced with sleep. 
“Do you just?”
You yawned, your words slow as you sighed. “I know I’m safe with you.”
You were already asleep before the wave of adoration careening through the bond could reach you. 
————
Eris’s voice cut through the oak door, greeting you into the room. 
Auburn locks shined in the fire-lit room as Eris stood on a low stool, facing an ornate mirror as tailors worked at his suit. It was a fine thing – orange and yellows embroidered with tasteful gold leafs. One tailor worked on his sleeve, while the other was busy bent at the cuff of his pants. 
“You’ll have to excuse me, Y/N. Just some finishing touches before tomorrow’s coronation. Perhaps we might be excused?” 
The tailors stepped away then, taking their supplies with them as they bowed to their future High Lord. 
Eris stepped down, stopping a few steps shy from you, fiery eyes casting you up and down. 
Originally, that kind of look would have beckoned your own power together within, threatening to zap with petty distaste. But without Beron, Eris was revealed as his true self. Cunning, sure, but also generous, caring, and much smarter than he had ever let on. 
“You look well,” he offered. 
“Because I’m not cloaked like a pumpkin,” you nodded to his flashy suite. 
Eris feigned offence with a hand to his chest. “You don't like my coronation suit?”
You snorted, and Eris grinned back. You were toying with each other as you always had, but now without the need for blood. 
“It’s lovely, actually. It screams of wealth, but has tasteful detail. Whoever designed it must know you well.”
“If I didn't know any better Y/N, I’d take that as a compliment.”
You pulled your lips in a sideways smile, eyebrows raised. “You did save my life.”
Eris stoped, his smile fading as his eyes blinked down just once. “I also might have damned you.”
You shook your head. “That wasn't your fault.”
A beat of silence.
“Y/N, I’m sorry my fath–"
You shook your head, cutting him off. “Eris, don’t. That is not for you to apologise for.”
Eris’s lips pulled into a thin line, guilt and grief weighing heavy on the male, the bags under his eyes yet deeper than you had ever seen. 
Composing himself, he nodded to a settee facing the the sprawling autumn forest, magnificent reds, yellows and greens muted by night. 
You moved to join him, eyes dancing at the tree tops. “Tomorrow will be…” you started. 
“A big day,” he finished, leaning his elbows on his knees. 
Eris wasn’t wrong. Here at the castle would be Lucien’s memorial, followed by Eris’s coronation. And on the other side of the court, Beron’s execution - all carefully arranged on the same day. It was a distraction of Beron’s dark reign, an insult to all that he had tried to conquer, and a honour to Lucien to celebrate life and moving forward. Beron would die alone, and Lucien’s legacy would be celebrated amongst many.
“Will Serafina be there?” 
He nodded, rubbing his hands together with tension. “Yes, she couldn't stand the thought of being there when my father…” 
Eris trailed off, but you nodded anyway. “I wish I could say the same for Helion. He’s overseeing the…event.” My father’s execution - he couldn't bring himself to say.
You bit your lip, nodded slowly. Azriel and Cassian had asked which events you wished to attend, perhaps all three, or none at all. You felt a strong need to be at the memorial and coronation, but had little interest in seeing Beron die, no matter what he had done to harm you an your mates. The males had agreed to accompany you, but you felt the urge they resisted to witness Beron’s death. It seemed Helion had felt the same, especially with his involvement in seeing securing Beron’s fate. You couldn't blame him, for all the years he had held his mate enslaved to his schemes.
“Helion will miss your ceremony, then?”
Eris lifted tired eyes to you. “I don't think he’ll ever forgive me for the life my mother was forced to live.”
“You were born into this, Eris, your own life was on the line. You were his child.”
“I’ve been fully grown for centuries now, Y/N. If I had been braver, my mother wouldn’t have had to suffer for the centuries she did. And Lucien…,” Eris choked at the name of his brother, shoulders stiffening before jerking with sobs. 
You watched with sorrow, moving gently to place a hand at his back, warmth spreading immediately at your palm. 
“They despise me, all of them. Helion, Feyre, Tamlin, Rhys, perhaps even my own mother. They see me for the coward I am.”
You cleared your throat, choosing your words carefully. “The beginning of your reign as High Lord will be an trialling time for you, I won’t deny that. But there were so many who could have stopped Beron, and so many that that didn’t. It wasn't your burden to bear alone.” 
Eris blinked, a shaken breath escaping him as he gained some control. “I suppose I will always be the High Lord that was too late.”
You swallowed, nodding. “Perhaps. But you will also be the High Lord who makes sure to leave a better legacy, to never leave things too late again.”
Eris ran curious brown eyes down your frame – so unfamiliar with the comfort you had just provided. 
“Azriel and Cassian are couldren-blessed to have someone like you.” 
You stiffened then. “I don't suppose they have me, Eris.”
Eris blinked, before his faced dropped. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I did not mean to offend.”
You shook your head, a small smile on your lips. “It’s ok, Eris. You are learning.” 
He ran bony fingers through his cropped auburn locks. “I only meant to convey that I admire you.”
You shrugged. “I am quite incredible.”
Eris’s laugh was raspy with relief. There was a quiet moment between you, the only sound the crackle of the fireplace. 
“Will you be there, tomorrow?” Eris did nothing to hide the hope in his eyes. 
You placed a gentle hand over his. “I’ll be one of many. Rhys and Feyre will be there too.”
“They’re coming?”
“I’m not sure people hold as much resentment to you as you do yourself, Eris. I think most just want to look forward, to a better world.”
Eris swallowed then, curbing the lump in his throat that threatened again. “Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate your kindness.”
You rose then, smoothing your skirts. “All the best for tomorrow, Eris. At the very least, you’ll look dashing.”
Eris found his old self then, extending his arms to admire the suite once more. “That I will,” he grinned, before reaching for your hand, and placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 
“Should you feel the need to reject two Illyrians for one handsome High Lord,” he joked with a flash of teeth. 
You snatched your hand back, eyes rolling with a smirk. “Don’t ever let Azriel or Cassian hear you joke like that,” you threw over your shoulder, sealing Eris’s chuckle and closing the door behind you.
————
Lucien’s memorial was devastatingly beautiful. 
Without a body, there was no coffin, cremation or grave. Instead, a bronzed statue was erected in the gardens of the Autumn castle, and rows of fae from all courts gathered to watch it be raised. 
It was Eris who spoke from the podium, Serafina’s weeps heard by all as she clung to Hellion who kept a strong arm around his mate. 
“I want to thank you all for coming here today to honour the life of my youngest bother, Lucien. He was taken from us in a selfish and cowardly act by my father, used as a sacrifice to hone evil. A crime that contradicts my brother’s very essence, for with every fibre of his being, Lucien was good.” 
“Lucien was kinder than most, a generous, forgiving male who uplifted others and sought good for the world. I regret to have dismissed him for so long, and that I may never tell him just how much I admired his courage. As High Lord of this court, I will ensure that his legacy continues, that he lives forever in bronze in these gardens, but also as a celebrated hero and vital part of the Autumn dynasty.”
“To properly commemorate his life, I invite someone who was a truer brother to Lucien, more than I ever was.” 
Eris stepped from the podium, placing a sure hand on Tamlin’s shoulder before moving to the queues. 
You could see the tremor in your friends hands as he placed his papers down, fingers gripping to the podium to steady himself. Pressing your lips tightly, you knew the wave of emotion Tamlin would need to push through to address all of these people, and tribute Lucien in honour. Your heart ached for him further.
Feyre’s sniffing pricked your ears from beside you where Rhys held her, and as you dabbed a few of your own stray tears, a wave of reassurance was sent from your mates who sat a few rows back, catching the movement. 
“Lucien was more than an honourable male.” Tamlin began, his voice strong, commanding of the crowd. “He understood what it was to be truly loyal, to see the good amongst the bad, to make others feel at home when he didn't have one of his own.” 
“He taught me compassion, sensibility, gratitude and love. He was a better leader than I could ever hope to be, without even trying.”
Tears brimmed your eyes, and you felt an overwhelming amount of pride for Tamlin as he cast those sharp green eyes across the crowd. 
“He was a loving son and friend,” he said with a nod to Serafina. “And while he endured more hardship than any of us deserve, his wit and humour prevailed.”
A few chuckles from the crowd and murmurs of agreement. A tattooed hand found yours then, and Feyre squeezed you as you smiled at each other through tears. 
“Many might not know that Lucien used that wit to free us of Amarantha’s reign. It was his keen eye to observe those around him, that brilliant mind and sincere care for others that lead Feyre to my court, and to eventually break the curse. He helped us every step of the way, risking his life countless times under the mountain, because he understood what was at stake, and what was the greater good.”
Tamlin had paused, taking a shaky breath. “Lucien was the brother I never deserved, and I will never stop loving him.” 
Tear stained tracks shone on Tamlin’s cheeks.
“It is our duty to ensure he has not died in vain, to learn from his legacy of acceptance, patience and kindness. If each of us hone just a fraction of the honour that he spread so freely, Prythian will be stronger for it.” 
“And when your children ask to hear the heroic tales of friends and foes alike, tell them of Lucien – the male with no home, that lead with his heart instead.” 
When Tamlin returned to his seat as Serafina stood to reveal the statue beneath the cloth. Hundreds of fae cried and cheered, and you reached for Tamlin’s hand, holding him tightly with your head on his shoulder, grieving and celebrating with your truest friend. 
————
1 week later
“Where have you bought me, my love?”
Azriel emerged from the thick of the Autumn forest, dried leaves crunching beneath his boots. 
“A little clearing I discovered on a walk,” you smiled from where you waited patiently, hands behind your back. The picnic was set with bread, cheese and berries, and you offered a glass of wine to your mate as he approached. 
He took it with a raised brow, leaning down to kiss your cheek before taking a sip. 
“You are well?” he asked, noting the blush in your cheeks, sending relief through the bond that colour had at last returned to your face. 
“I am,” you smiled broadly.
Before you could ask how Azriel was, the beat of Cassian’s wings sounded, and leaves danced in a gust of wind as he landed on one strong knee. 
“Well isn't this romantic,” he grinned as he stood, stalking over to pick you up, twirling as he squeezed you tight.
While Cassian had business to attend to back in Illyria, both of the males had been keeping their distance while you rested at the Autumn castle. They checked in of course, and Azriel had winnowed back a few times to see you - but they were respectful of your space, waiting for your direction, feeling for your comfort levels along the way. 
Cassian approached Azriel then, a strong hand finding his chiselled jaw as he kissed his mate deeply. 
Immediately flustered, you busied yourself by pouring Cassian a glass of wine as overwhelming desire and longing for each other coursed through the bond after days spent apart. You forced your eyes elsewhere - you hadn't kissed either of them yet, certainly not like that. 
They moved to join you on the blanket you had set, Cassian taking his wine with a thank you and plopping a few berries in the each of your glasses. 
“I’ve missed you both,” you said with a shy smile. It was true, having them both here, it eased the strain of your heart that lingered at the distance. It also revealed desires you hadn't known were there. You wanted to bask in their presence, to hold them tight and never let them go. To tear your clothes of and press their naked skin to yours, feel the heat of them warm through you… Gods, this bond!
Azriel and Cassian shared a coy chuckle as they sensed your lust, and a scarred hand found your knee while Cassian lounged casually, wings sprawling. 
“We missed you too,” Azriel answered with a boyish smirk, before it turned sincere. “Thank you for bringing us together, my love.”
Cassian was already munching on the bread as he offered you a wedge of cheese, speaking with a full mouth. “What marks the occasion, princess?” 
You took the food, chewing thoughtfully before setting your glass down. Hazel eyes tracked your every move, Cassian’s on the clouds as casual hands were bought behind his head. 
“Well, I suppose I wanted to discuss us.”
You saw Cassian’s chest holt, before he sat up, waiting for you to continue. 
“I’m fully healed now, and I think it’s time I left Autumn.” 
Azriel was stiff. “Will you be coming back to Velaris?” he asked with forced softness. 
You swallowed once, twice. “No.”
Azriel took a deep breath before nodding slowly, Cassian’s smile fading into something sad, while affection still warmed those brown eyes. 
“We understand,” he offered, his large hand covering yours. 
“I suppose a better answer is, not yet,” you added, squeezing Cassian’s hand in yours. You felt their lick of excitement through the bond. 
“I love you both, I do. But I don't know where I want to live, where I want to call home. All I know is that I want to continue my mission, help provide aide for more courts. Beron’s death has created so many opportunities, the courts have never been so aligned. There is much work to do - and I will dedicate myself to it. This is my purpose.”
Azriel’s smile was genuine under the tears in his eyes. “I am so proud of you.”
You sent a wave of warmth down the bond. “Thank you, Az.”
Cassian was leaning on his knees now, facing the both of you. “Wherever you want to be, Y/N, we’ll be there too.”
You shook your head quickly. “No, no, I won't ask you to leave Velaris, to give up your roles in the Night Court.”
Your mates exchanged a look.
“We would, you know.” Azriel husk was just more than a whisper.
“We’d follow you anywhere,” Cassian added. 
You smiled, your eyes cast down as you fiddled with your hands in your lap. With a quick breath, you placed a hand on each of their thighs. 
“I don't want that, and neither do you. Please hear me when I say I love you both, and I’m learning to forgive you for what happened with Alvar. But I’m not ready to be so…”
“Mated?”
You smiled turned broken. “Yes, mated.”
Azriel had picked up your hand, toying with it before moving scarred fingers to intertwine with yours. “Wherever you want to be,” he repeated Cassian’s words. “We support you.”
You blinked the tears that threatened then, forcing that pinnacle question past your lips. “Would you wait?” For me, for us - you didn't add.
“Of course,” Cassian said instantly, frowning with slight insult. 
“Without a second thought.” Azriel added, his lips now brushing your knuckles.
It was true, honest love that surged through the bond then, from all three sides. 
You huffed with relief. “Then I will return to my life in Spring Court.”
“Perhaps we could visit?” Cassian asked.
You didn't need to think on the offer. “I would love that,” you beamed. “And I will travel often enough with my work – and will visit you too.”
Azriel let out a small whine of relief, and Cassian grinned, moving to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest. 
“We love you Y/N,” he murmured into your ear, planting a kiss to your neck. “We will make this work.”
You reached towards the Shadowsinger, pulling him towards you, relishing in the comfort of their arms wrapped tight around you. You were safe, they were safe. You were happy, they were happy. 
For the first time in years, you felt true happiness in all avenues of life. 
Cassian and Azriel were kissing above your head, the sound of their kiss igniting something in your bounds as you were pressed between them. That primal urge to consummate your mating bond churned within you, and you were suddenly flushed with desire, aware of how your own pupils dilated. 
Raising to your knees, your hands found a place on both of their chests as they broke away, eyeing you. 
You leaned towards Cassian, eyes flicking down to his still-wet lips swollen from Azriel’s kiss. Ever so gently, you lay a peck to his mouth. 
Cassian whimpered as you pulled away, his eyes fluttering open and stalking you as you moved to Azriel and did the same. 
Wings twitched from behind the Shadowsingers head, and shadows instantly flooded around you.
Pulling away, you couldn't help the toying grin that pulled at your mouth. Azriel's chest heaved, and Cassian’s brows were pulled in desperation. 
“Please,” the later begged. “Do that again.”
Your heart lurched, your insides throbbing even more intensely than before. Gods, you wanted them. But you would have to be careful with how you would approach the bond while living on different sides of Prythian. 
“I’m conscious,” you breathed, taking a moment to regain composure. “I’m conscious not to enlighten the bond any further.”
Cassian growled, but Azriel threw him a quick glare. “You’re yet to seal the bond on your end.”
“I know,” you breathed, resisting every urge to ask your mates to eat the remaining berries from your bare hands and ride them into the sunset. “But I don't want to make things anymore difficult than they need to be. I have no interest in torturing you any further. Sex might complicate things, it can bind us further, making the distance that much harder to bare.”
Cassian groaned. “Please don't say harder.”
You and Azriel shared a chuckle as he strained in his pants. 
“It’s a kind thought, my love. And I think you’re right,” Azriel agreed with a stroke to your face, then a strong hand on Cassian’s shoulder that seemed to say compose yourself.
Cassian cleared his throat, and through gritted teeth said “We can wait.”
A wicked smile reached your eyes. “Are you sure about that?”
Cassian all but tackled you, nipping at your ear with a playful growl. “Don’t tease.”
You laughed freely then, his breath tickling your ear.
Azriel was still stiff where he sat. 
“Az,” you asked. “Will you be alright?”
Hazel eyes flicked down you in a way that made you shudder. “I just have on request.”
You smiled. “Yes?”
“Kiss me again.”
You were smiling as you lurched forward, strong arms catching you as you pressed your lips on his. 
You spent the rest of the afternoon in that clearing with your mates, kissing them, holding them, discussing the logistics of the next steps of your mateship, and falling back in love with the two males that always had your heart.
————
3 years later
The three years since you had rekindled your relationship with Azriel and Cassian had been the happiest of your life. 
Your mates would visit often, sometimes together, sometimes alone. And when your work called you to the Night Court or close by, you visited them in Velaris, spending time with your old family too. You relationships were healing amongst the Inner Circle, and you were glad to feel at home again while still returning to your life in Spring Court. 
You had worked furiously hard to bring your aide work across Prythian. Beron’s death saw a shift in response to sharing resources, and your vision of aide without borders gained traction. With hundreds of healers and the likes now working for your charity - your mission was funded and supported by all seven courts. 
The little foxes, you now called yourselves, in honour of Lucien Vanserra and his legacy of honour. Each court had specially built ‘dens’, where fae in need could seek help, and where aide was dispatched to support across all courts. 
It was incredibly hard work that took the years you gave yourself, with many sleepless nights, and sometimes longer periods spent away from your mates. But it was successful, the cogs of your strategies came to life. 
You were overwhelmingly proud, and fulfilled for the first time in your life. Happiness was a plentiful beacon around you, and you felt yourself healing every day.
You spent spare time learning to harness your magic. Seeking experts across the continent, you learned to hone that powerful current, understanding your limits, your emotions, when to yield and when to take. You learnt new ways of using it, lighting fires or fuelling pressing mills, hunting large supplies of fish when food was in need. In those years, you had learned to help others in ways you never new possible. It was as if you were finally coming to life. 
Your heart was full – you had taken control of your life once more, working in boundaries that helped you thrive. And it was with that full, healthy heart that you forgave your mates, little by little, day by day. 
————
Mor let out a high-pitched squeel, shaking as she read the golden card in her hand, envelope floating to the floor as she bounced from foot to foot. 
“What is it?” Feyre asked from her desk, the High Lady buried in paper work.
“They’ve called it!”
“Called what?” Feyre asked with wide eyes, bewildered at Mor’s reaction. 
Snatching the card from the giddy blond’s hand, Feyre read the sparkling, cursive writing. Tears instantly brimmed at Feyre’s eyes as she met Mor’s lovesick smile.
Finbark Eversgreen requests the honour of your attendance to celebrate the marriage of Y/N, Cassian and Azriel.
Saturday, 2nd week of the third season.
The ceremony will be held at the Southern Spring Lake at dusk.
“Rhys! Come quick!”
————
AN: Ahhhh I hope you liked this lead up to the finale!! It was a pleasure to write the abundance of healing going around for all these characters!! The next part will focus on the wedding - but I'm always keen to hear what else you guys might want to see too. All in all, I'm actually excited to wrap up Our Girl tbh. It's sitting at 50,000 words so far and has been a really big piece for me! So thanks for joining me along the way. If you want to join the tag list for the finale, or any of my other stuff, drop and comments and let me know which one :) Much love!!! Nic
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sadiegirl2021 · 5 months
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Azriel listens to Rhys, Cassian and Lucien talk about their mating bonds
Rhys: I just wanted to kill everyone near her!
Lucien: Same! Nothing was stopping me from getting to her and covering her up with my jacket
Cassian: It's crazy! Does it ever sound like there's music and singing when you're around them?
Rhys & Lucien: *nodding in agreement* Yeah, definitely!
Rhys: and picturing her smile, gods that would get me through the day. Just that image glowing quietly in my chest...
Cassian: *sighing* yeah, it's a beautiful thing! 
Lucien: *nodding in agreement*
Azriel, looking wide-eyed in the corner
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lovelygwyneth · 22 days
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I love how poetic it is that Elain is represented as the spring/flowers and they bloom with the sun (Lucien) but die in the darkness (Azriel).
While Azriel's shadows run away from Elain, but dance and are happy with Gwyn's presence.
Mates are made to be complementary, their essence brings life to their mate, not erases it.
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 2 years
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🌛Writing Masterlist🌜
✨- indicates smut.
A Court of Thorns and Roses
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
Azriel:
🌙Series🌙
Coming Home
Practice On Me
🌙Oneshots & Requests🌙
Pushing Buttons ✨
Heart of Fire
They Never Showed You Love
Fuck Me Properly ✨
All Tied Up for Me (Cassian & Azriel) ✨
Why are you still here? | Part Two
Studious | Part 2✨
Comfort ✨
Bluebird | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII ✨
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
Cassian:
🌙Series🌙
Crawling Back to You (mini series)
Part one ✨
Part two ✨
Part Three ✨
🌙Oneshots & Requests🌙
All Tied Up for Me (Cassian and Azriel) ✨
What About Me?
Misunderstandings (Starfall Week 2023)
Heavenly Touches✨
Goddess✨
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
Rhysand:
🌙Series🌙
🌙Oneshots & Requests🌙
With Me, Always.
Shrinking Violet. ✨| Part II ✨
Forget-Me-Not
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
Lucien Vanserra:
🌙Series🌙
Fireleaf
🌙Oneshots & Requests🌙
Just You and Me ✨
Yell at Me Again ✨
A Personal Problem ✨
The Moon on a String ✨
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
Eris Vanserra:
🌙Oneshots & Requests🌙
Loose Lips | Part Two ✨
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
Nesta Archeron:
🌙Oneshots & Requests🌙
Strawberries and Cream (Starfall Week 2023) ✨
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sweetcarolina-24 · 6 months
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Mating Frenzy*
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Kinktober Day 19: Rough Sex
Azriel x Reader
kinktober masterlist
a/n: sneak peak of Stargirl changed to second person
cw: p in v, rough, over the counter
your mating bond with Azriel just snapped.
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾  ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙
Since the bond had snapped, you couldn't do anything without wanting to jump his bones.
Now, you were simply getting out of the bath, and of course he had to walk into the bathroom.
Seeing you bare before him, dripping wet, made his scent shift. He was ripping his clothes off and bending you over the bathroom counter before you could say a word.
You moaned as he shoved himself into you with no warning. He slammed his hips against yours with no mercy, making your breasts slap back and forth.
You cried out, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he fucked you relentlessly.
"Shit, y/n," he gritted out as you whined. "So tight for me."
"Gods, Az," you panted, your hands flat against the counter.
His hand tangled into your hair and he yanked your head back, forcing your back to arch.
"Good fucking girl," he groaned.
You could've cum from the praise alone. But he was nowhere near done with you yet.
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾  ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙
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bird-likes-art · 3 months
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Had to get this idea out there. How would omega collars work? I see them in so many fics and I’ve always pictured dog/cat collars but that wouldn’t work! Hannah Adams ticktock put this idea in my head today and wow it’s been on my mind constantly!
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teddyhoneybear · 2 months
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What if Elain has to hold in the urge to bake cinnamon rolls everytime Lucien visits, because his scent reminds her of them, only to find herself in the kitchen anyway, kneading dough while cursing him.
Then she keeps smelling them addictively, her little nose covered in frosting, while imagining it's him. 🥹
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rin-u-pos · 3 months
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I think Rhys uses the mating bond as an excuse to act like a possessive, aggressive horny dick. After Feyre accepts the mating bond, Rhys acts like an animal. Constantly wanting to fuck her and would probably kill anyone who looks at her for too long. Then there's Cassian x Nesta. Cassian can't keep it in his pants, but he doesn't display the aggression towards anyone who wants to harm Nesta. He treats every other chick in his life better than his own mate.
Another example is Kallius x Vivianne. They've been mated for less than a year by the time the high lords meeting occurs, but he seems so chill. And finally, Lucien x Elain. He seems to be coping quite well with Elain's refusal to see him. I'm sure he suspects about Az x Elain. But Lucien gives her space and is respectful towards Azriel. Lucien should be driven mad by the bond, but he keeps himself busy and tries to move on.
I know you can argue about Rhysand letting Feyre marry Tamlin, but the beginning of ACOMAF can be reinterpreted as Rhysand inserting himself into Feyre's relationship during a difficult period.
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thelov3lybookworm · 1 month
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As a slut for angst today “tolerate it” has been stuck on a loop and now I am imaging an angsty fic where Az just slowly begins to forget about reader and she threatens to leave but he doesn’t take her seriously and is so utterly destroyed when he comes back home and she’s gone…
Like I feel like it’s on brand with him and his duty to his job and whatnot. Plus the lyrics are so him coded “while you were out building worlds where was I” / “took this dagger in me and removed it” LIKE HELLO???
(But I also love a good happy ending so I feel like if azzy groveled hard enough… 👀)
Tolerate it.
Summary: She is fed up.
•○●⛦●○•
A/n: ehehehehehe angsttttt yummy yummyyyy
Enjoy!
•○🌑○•
Y/n laughed at Feyre's pathetic attempts at skipping the large puddle on the ground accumulated due to the rains that had Velaris freezing overnight.
Feyre failed miserably, her boots and leggings getting wet from the splash that signalled her downfall against the watery enemy of hers. But Feyre was not fazed. She simply laughed alongside Y/n, her eyes crinkling as the two of them made their way back to the river house.
It was visible already now, Y/n could even make out the grains in the wood of the door as it opened, and her brother in laws, along with her mate, spilled out.
Y/n could see from the corner of her eyes as her sister lit up at seeing her mate, her husband and the father of her child. The moment his eyes met her, she took off, her arms spread as she ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck. Rhysand did not hold back either, clutching Feyre to her chest with as much enthusiasm as she held him.
It made Y/n smile.
Y/n then glanced behind the embracing couple to her mate, the overwhelming urge to hug him too and to claim him in front of anyone watching making her start walking towards him without even realising.
Which was reckless, as the moment he realised she was walking towards him to hug him? He took a step back.
Y/n knew that he hated being affectionate in front of others, but this was cruel.
So to not get embarrassed by his rejection, Y/n turned swiftly towards Cassian, her other brother in law, who stood not too far from where Azriel did, and hugged him instead.
Cassian, Mother bless his heart, did not even question it.
He wrapped his arms around Y/n and literally lifted her off the ground, cackling when Y/n's fist made contact with his shoulder over and over again as she demanded to be put down.
Y/n had to stop herself from thinking back to that day. She did not want to relive the pain she had felt, the sadness and anger.
Y/n watched his eyes fluttering, wondering if he was dreaming. Wondering who he was dreaming about.
It definitely was not her, that was for sure.
Y/n, feeing a little sadness taking root in her heart, returned to the portrait in her hands, questioning if it would even be worth it finishing it up when he sure as hell wouldn't even acknowledge it. Or her.
Y/n glanced at the paint supplies she had placed on the coffee table next to her, having wanted to capture a moment of him letting his guard down, of him being vulnerable using her best paints, knowing he would not care.
She guessed living for as long as he had, life and the small things didn't matter as much anymore. Maybe that was why he loved to go on the missions Rhysand, Y/n's brother in law, gave him.
It probably gave him the thrill nothing else did anymore.
With Y/n's sister just having given birth to the starlight of the court, Rhys had become more and more protective, sending his brothers and anyone and everyone at his disposal to check and report about every trivial thing that made his primal mate and father side get protective.
Slowly, Y/n reached for the brush that rested in the cup half filled with coloured water, deciding to finish the half done portrait. If he did not care... she did not now what she would do then, but she did know she was tired of being tolerated by him.
But what could she even do? It was not like she could just up and leave.
Y/n blinked.
Or... could she?
Y/n shook her head, as if to dislodge the though, and with a sigh, she let herself get lost in the soft skill of painting her sister had taught her long ago, when staying up and huddling under worn blankets was the only thing bringing any warmth.
Trying not to think about the fact that the last time she remembered him caring for her, genuinely caring for her, was only when the two had been in their early stages of relation ship and the mating bond was a very new experience to a newly made fae Y/n, she continued using the soft and strong, long and short strokes to finish up her latest masterpiece.
Of course, Y/n never would call herself a creator of masterpieces, but any and all art that included her perfect mate was destined to be a masterpiece.
Time lost its meaning, and all that mattered was capturing the perfect angle for his eyes, nose, lips, shoulder.
Nothing existed but Y/n, her art, and her muse.
Nothing existed but the soft rise and fall of his back as he lay sprawled on his stomach, the effortless way his wings draped across the whole bed, taking up space three wingless fae could have slept in.
Where Y/n would have slept in, on days when everything had been filled with stars and dreams, wrapped under his warm wing like it were a living blanket.
When he pretended he was nothing, absolutely nothing but her mate. Her husband. Not a spymaster, not a shadowsinger, not a brother. Just her mate, her lover.
Those days were far gone now.
•○🌑○•
Despite the fact that she knew he would most definitely not care, Y/n was excited.
And that was downplaying what she felt.
The wait was killing her, the amount of adrenaline in her bloodstream making her want to jump around to get rid of the energy that made her shiver, her limbs going cold and warm at the same time. She had to push her fists together and shove them between her thighs to keep them from shaking, which did not help at all.
So Y/n waited, her body clenched in anticipation as she stared at the doorway that led into the living room, a big grin on her face.
She glanced once at the sketchpad in front of her on the table, admiring her artwork for a moment.
She never liked whatever she made, always feeling like it lacked something. So for her to be excited to show off her art to her mate was a huge indication to how much she loved the portrait.
The familiar scuff of worn boots drew Y/n's attention, and she shot to her feet, pressing her fists to the back of her thighs.
It had become a habit of Azriel's, to purposefully make some noise before he stepped in view so as not to startle her with his appearance.
The action melted Y/n's heart every single time.
He stepped into view, as ethereal as the day Y/n had first seen him as a human, just as beautiful as he had looked that day as he tried to get comfortable on the small chair in the manor on the other side of the wall, just as loveable as that day when she had ended up losing her heart to the low born fae that should have intimated her.
He was fumbling with his armor, making sure it was all secured properly before he left for whatever mission Rhys assigned him for that day.
He glanced up just as he walked past Y/n to the kitchen counter, a small smile gracing his face before his attention was again diverted.
Y/n tried not to deflate at his lack of enthusiasm.
"Good morning love. Look-"
"Good morning Y/n." He cut her off, his voice void of emotions, as if he was tired of saying the same thing every morning and wanted to get it over with. He didn't even glance at Y/n as he said it, and Y/n pretended not to notice that he used her name instead of whatever endearing name he would have picked before.
"I will be on a scouting trip to Illyria, and after I have a meeting and dinner scheduled with Rhys and Cass, so I will be late coming home. Don't wait up."
Y/n's smile faded. "Don't wait up or stay out of my way?"
Azriel froze. "What?"
Y/n released a humourless laugh. "Nothing. Go have fun."
Azriel turned, giving her a hard look. "You know I would rather stay at home with you."
Doubtful.
Y/n so badly wanted to say it to his face, but she did not want to fight with him so early in the morning, so she sighed, smiled and nodded.
He started walking towards the door, and despite her anger, Y/n walked forward to kiss his cheek.
She did not miss how he recoiled.
Y/n masked the hurt before he could see it, and he gave her an awkward smile before he maneuvered to walk around her, careful not to brush against her.
Y/n watched him walk away, staring hard at the door even long after he'd left.
She then glanced at the portrait she had abandoned on the table, and, her heart hardening, turned away.
She was tired of having her love be tolerated, and she would not have it be that way anymore.
Either he accept her love the way it was, loud and clear, or he go find someone else.
And so, she turned, walked up the stairs to the bedchambers she shared with Azriel, and began to turn it back into just his bedchambers.
She would no longer be tolerated only because some godly entity thought she and him would make great, powerful kids and tied them together with a string.
She deserved to be cherished.
•○🌑○•
Part 2
Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175
Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend
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soulessjourney · 15 days
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Let The World Burn - Chapter 1
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Paring: Azriel x fem!Reader
Word count: 1.5k
Summary: You're one in a million, Azriel had never encountered someone so different from himself, someone more powerful, even rivaling Rhysand in ability. When you appeared in the Night Court one evening, covered in dirt and dried blood, something about you seemed distinctly unique. It wasn't just the fire that scorched the ground beneath you or the red hue of your eyes burning into his skin. No, it was the shadows that swarmed around you, harmonizing with his own, drawing them closer to you.
Warnings: Violence, Language, Near character death, Talk of killing, Angst, Hurt and comfort, hurt no comfort, reader is an angry strong female reader, lots of miscommuication, fluff, More to be added
A/N: Buckle up, children. This fic is the epitome of enemies-to-lovers, lovers-to-enemies, and back again. The angst is intense, and the betrayals are oh so real.
All you could smell was your burning flesh and the smoke from the area around you. Above you, the dark sky seemed to smile down in a way that almost felt mocking. Drawing in a deep breath, your chest tightened, drowning out your senses. Uncertain of how you got here or even who you were, the last thing you remembered was falling backward, yet never hitting the ground, instead, you kept falling until eventually landing on the charred grass where you now lay.
A cool sensation ran over your arms, diverting your attention from the sky. Wincing, you lifted your arm, watching as wisps of smoke-like tendrils wrapped around you, gently caressing your burnt skin. They moved around your waist and through your hair, softly singing and speaking in hushed tones that your ringing ears couldn't discern.
Enchanted by their appearance, you marveled at their gentleness as they glided over the burns on your arms and face, seemingly attempting to kiss your wounds better. You noticed how they froze over your skin before shooting out as if to defend you. Turning your head, you let out a groan, catching a flash of red and blue. Rolling onto your knees, another groan escaped as you instinctively reached to hold your injured arm, your hair falling over your face as you glimpsed three figures through the strands, standing a few feet away, their eyes widening in shock at your appearance.
The wisps continued to wrap around you, darting out at them, a protective measure for your injured form. Your eyes darted between them before settling on a male figure without siphons, his violet eyes prominent in the darkness. Unable to discern their words over the ringing in your ears, you studied each figure. You moved towards another, taller and bulkier, his shoulder-length hair tied in a half ponytail. Despite his intimidating appearance, his eyes exuded a gentle kindness you had never witnessed before.
Finally, your gaze locked with hazel eyes, observing the third male figure. He stood before you, arms crossed, his face devoid of emotion, yet his shadows danced in synchronization with your own, almost as if communicating. The wisps whispered to you, though your mind remained blank as you studied him. Something within you stirred in recognition, yet fear caused your body to curl in on itself. Your vision obscured as the male with violet eyes knelt before you, extending his hand. Your gaze shifted upward, finally able to hear his voice.
"I'm not sure what happened to you, and usually, we wouldn't welcome trespassers like this, but your wounds are too serious to take you where we normally would," he said gently, causing your eyes to harden. Holding up his hands, he offered a reassuring smile. "What's your name?" he asked, watching you quietly.
You opened your mouth to respond, only for your mind to draw a blank. "I'm not sure," you replied, wincing at the raspiness of your voice, hating how weak it sounded. Yet, it didn't deter him from extending his hand once more. You stared at it, and he chuckled softly.
"If it eases your nerves, I'm Rhysand, and behind me are Cassian and Azriel. Now that we aren't strangers, why don't you come back with us? We can provide treatment and aid until you regain your memory or at least understand how you got here," he suggested gently. Your eyes flickered over his shoulder, meeting the hazel eyes again before Rhysand spoke up once more. "Please? My wife would kill me if she found out I left an injured female in the middle of the woods." You scrutinized him, attempting to catch him in a lie, but found none. Nodding gently, you placed your hand in his, feeling the cool tendrils wrap around you as the environment blurred and darkened.
---Azriel---
Azriel stood outside the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the floor. As the door opened and Cassian and Rhysand stepped out, he pushed away from the wall, raising a brow. "Mind explaining why you decided to make friends with some random person who tried burning down the forest?" he asked.
Rhysand sighed, glancing back at the closed door. "I tried probing her mind, Az. It's locked tight, and no amount of training could penetrate it, not with all the power it exerted to resist me. You saw those shadows that clung to her. Azriel, she's another shadow singer, and as far as I know, you're the only one alive with that ability," he explained in a hushed tone.
Azriel nodded, images of you flashing in his mind. He remembered the severity of your burns and the intensity of your gaze fixed on him, your eyes seeming to burn with actual fire. He had forgotten about the shadows that reached out to them, mirroring his own. "What do we do with her once she's better?" he inquired, turning his gaze toward the closed door. "We can't just let her go, especially now that she's seen the city."
Rhysand hummed in thought, but before he could respond, Cassian cleared his throat. "We can't release her back into the woods like some stray. She has no memory of who she is. But we're not imprisoning her either. We need to help her remember how she got here, and why there's no record of another shadow singer. I can keep an eye on her and make her feel welcome. If she feels like a prisoner, she won't cooperate," Cassian suggested, turning to Azriel. "You should do the same. Get to know her. Her reaction to seeing you indicates her body remembers you, so that could be crucial."
Azriel groaned before reluctantly agreeing with his brother. "Fine, I'll give it a shot. I have my own questions, especially about those shadows. But if she tries anything, don't expect me to be friendly. Her entrance wasn't exactly subtle, burning down half the forest," he remarked, casting a warning glance at Rhysand.
Rhysand nodded, knowing better than to argue with Azriel in situations like this. He couldn't help but notice Azriel's sudden interest in you, though. Clapping a hand on Cassian's shoulder, he nodded to Azriel before walking away.
Azriel watched them depart down the hall before turning back to the door. Opening it, his eyes widened as a pillow was flung at him, narrowly missing him and hitting the wall. Giving you a glare, he noted how you met his stare with equal intensity.
---Y/N---
You stare back at Azriel as he takes another step towards you, your hand instinctively reaching back to grab the pillow next to you. Your eyes follow every movement he makes, searching for any sign that his intentions aren’t friendly.
"Throwing a pillow at me won’t do much," he says, raising a brow at you.
Scoffing, you turn your head away from him. "No, but it would distract you long enough to give me a head start," you mumble. The shadows that wrap themselves around you slide away, halting just before Azriel. Your eyes watch them as they wait for his own to greet them.
"It’s funny, you would think they know each other. In the forest, it was like they were communicating with each other," you say softly.
Azriel hums in response as he settles into the chair next to your bed. "What do you know about your shadows? You must know something; the way they interact with you is a telling sign that you’ve had them your entire life," he says, leaning back into the chair. He watches your body language, waiting for a telling sign that you're lying, but there is nothing. Instead, he receives a shrug from you.
"I’m not sure. When I woke up, in agonizing pain, might I add, they were there. They were all over me, and it was as if they were trying to cool the burns. Other than that, they’re a complete mystery to me. They don’t even really say much besides that I’m safe," you explain, leaning back against the headboard. "Why are you guys helping me? I know it’s not because I was half dead in the middle of the woods," you mumble, playing with the blanket on your lap.
Azriel leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he narrows his eyes at you. "Rhysand says he wants to find out how you’re a shadow singer; from what we knew, I was the only one. Cassian refuses to just release you into the wild again, and he wants to help you, which is typical given that’s just how he is. Meanwhile, me? I don’t trust you. You may not remember what about me you know, but your body does, and every time I’m near you, you have the natural reaction to pull away from me," he says. To prove his point, he shifts to sit on the bed, and your body tenses as you instinctively move away. "I’ll find out what you know about me. Rhysand may not be able to tell, but I know how to get the information I need, and you’re no exception," he grumbles.
You open your mouth to retort, but he stands and walks towards the door before freezing. "If you’re pretending, drop the act; it’ll make killing you in the future that much easier," he says, his eyes piercing into you. With that, he leaves the room, leaving you to your own thoughts.
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sirenpearldust · 2 months
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Mating Bond | Series
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Eris x Reader Azriel x Reader
Summary: For centuries she’s been in love with Eris, however, before she could confess her love to him she meets him, her mate, Azriel. Will she choose Azriel or will she ultimately stay with Eris?
Mating Bond
• Part 1
• Part 2
Main Taglist: @bubybubsters
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illyrian-dreamer · 1 year
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ACOTAR Masterlist
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GIF by kennedy1917sworld
*(Indicates smut)
Azriel:
Changing Shadows (complete series):
Summary: You have a new role in the Inner Circle — Heard Guard of Velaris. And as Rhys’s younger sister, you feel you have a lot to prove. 
You and the Shadowsinger are also growing closer, and tension builds as your relationship changes from friendship to something else...
How will you juggle your feelings for Azriel and the dangers that come with your new role, without disappointing the rest of the Inner Circle and the Night Court?
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5* | Part 6* | Part 7* | Part 8 | Part 9* | Part 10 | Part 11* | Part 12* | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15* | Part 16* | Part 17* | Part 18* | Part 19* | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23* | Part 24 - Finale
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Overwritten (complete series)
Summary: After months as his prisoner, Hybern has hijacked your mind, turning you into an enemy of your home, your family, and your mate, Azriel. 
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5* | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 - Finale
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And Then There Were None
Summary: In the lead up to the war, Hybern releases a catastrophic spell that wipes out all humans, sparing just one.
Abandoned in the desolate human lands, you scavenge to survive long enough to find your family.
Reluctantly, you are found by the Shadowsinger as fate intervenes to guide you under his watchful eye.
Part 1 | Part 2
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One shots:
A Shadowsinger’s intuition
Feel too much
Confessions at Starfall
Stay with me
Spin the bottle
In the arms of understanding*
Drabble:
Salad (fluff)
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Cassian:
One shots:
Tides and turmoil
With benefits*
Remnants of a star
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Azriel and Cassian:
Our Girl (series)
Summary: Deeming you unfit for a mission, the Inner Circle have betrayed your trust and shattered your life’s mission to avenge you sister. And the two males you love most were at the centre of it all.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4* | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9
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Rhys:
Series
Dance with the devil
Summary: You attempt to rob the High Lord of the Night Court.
Part 1 |
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One shots:
Two lessons in one*
Make a bargain with me
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Bat boys:
Drabble:
Bat boys react to being called ‘bro’*
Brat taming bat boys *
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Lucien: 
Frozen Flames (series)
Summary: After fifty years trapped Under the Mountain, you struggle to adjust to your new found freedom as Kallias’s third-in-charge to the Winter Court.
In an unlikely circumstance, you meet Lucien Vanserra.
As you and Lucien grow closer, dealing with the loss of your mother and trauma from Amarantha’s reign proves harder than you thought. How will you start to trust and love again?
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5* | Part 6* | Part 7 | Part 8
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Eris
One shots:
Conditions of entry*
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Comment to join the tag list :)
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Sarah J Maas, not my own.
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dee-writes-smut · 6 days
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SUMMER
FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader
SUMMARY healing is a long journey that can't be summed up in just four simple seasons, but it seems with the help of a certain shadowsinger at your side, you've seemed to do it.
CONTENT WARNINGS mentions of nightmares, apologies, scared reader, comforting Azriel, Cassian POV, and mentions of wingspans ;)
AUTHORS NOTE the finale you've all been waiting for is finally here as promised! Thank you all so much for your support during this series, I am excited to be back and writing for you all again! Love you all and I hope you enjoy! <3
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Summer arrives like a promise fulfilled, a canvas awash with vibrant hues of green and gold, as if nature herself has donned her finest attire. The air hums with the gentle whisper of transformation, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and the promise of new beginnings on its warm breeze.
As the sun stretches its golden fingers across the land, casting long shadows that dance in its radiant glow, there's a palpable sense of rejuvenation in the air. It's as if each dawn heralds a new chapter, a chance to shed the burdens of the past and embrace the endless possibilities of the present.
In this season of abundance, life bursts forth with an exuberance that is both intoxicating and invigorating. The world awakens from its slumber, blossoming with a riot of colors as flowers unfurl their petals in joyful defiance of the lingering chill of winter. Leaves rustle in the gentle caress of the wind, their verdant whispers carrying tales of resilience and growth.
Amidst this symphony of nature's symphony, there is a sense of newfound strength coursing through every living thing. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the warmth of the sun infuses each day with a sense of possibility, igniting a fire within the soul that refuses to be extinguished.
In the heart of summer, time seems to slow, allowing moments to linger like the last rays of sunlight on a balmy evening. It's a season of exploration and adventure, where every day holds the promise of discovery and every sunset marks the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.
And as the days stretch languidly into twilight, there is a quiet resilience that takes root, a deep-seated belief in the power of new beginnings and the strength that comes from embracing change. For in the heart of summer, beneath the sweltering heat and the endless blue skies, lies the untold promise of tomorrow, waiting to be seized with both hands and forged into something beautiful.
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(Mid Summer, Velaris)
The afternoon sun poured into the training ring, casting long shadows of the figures sparring lightly within it. Cassian was across from me, a patient yet mischievous grin on his face, as he handed me a training sword. “Ready to get your ass kicked, or are you going to make me work for it today?”
I smirked, feeling the flutter of my old spirit stirring within. “Dream on, Cassian.”
The clash of our swords sang through the air, a melody of metal that resonated with the pounding of my heart. Each strike, each parry, felt like shedding layers of fear that had cocooned me since losing my wings.
“Focus,” Cassian said, his voice a mix of sternness and encouragement. “Remember, it’s not just about strength. It’s about knowing your opponent.”
I nodded, gripping my own wooden sword a little tighter. As I lunged forward, Cassian parried easily, countering with a swift movement that I barely blocked in time. We moved in a rhythm, the clack of our swords punctuating each maneuver. My muscles remembered the dance, even if they ached from disuse. Cassian’s style was a flurry of motion, designed to overwhelm, but today he tempered his usual ferocity, giving me room to find my footing again. The physical exertion was grounding, pulling me further away from my mental ghosts.
Laughter and shouts from Mor, watching from the sidelines, filled the arena, her cheers a buoyant soundtrack to our dance of blades and as we paused for a break, Mor jogged over with a waterskin and a smirk. She threw an arm around my shoulders, squeezing tightly. “Look at you! You’re almost back to your old self,” she beamed, her pride evident.
The warmth from her compliment soaked through me, loosening some of the tightness still lingering in my chest. “Feels good to move like that again,” I admitted, allowing the truth of my words to wash over me. It did feel good—like claiming back pieces of my soul, piece by piece.
“You two look like you’re having fun,” she smiled, squeezing me close again as she handed me the waterskin. After I took a long drink, she shot me a sly glance. “Speaking of fun, have you noticed how Azriel can't seem to stay away from your side?”
Mor’s eyebrows wiggled as I coughed on the water, wiping my mouth as I tried to compose myself. “He’s just being supportive,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks heat up.
Cassian chuckled, leaning on his sword. “Oh, he’s being supportive, all right. Haven’t seen him this glued to someone since… well, ever.”
I rolled my eyes, but the seed of awareness began to sprout in my mind. Azriel had indeed been a constant presence, his quiet strength a comfort I hadn’t realized I’d leaned on so much.
“Do you think it might be a mating bond?” Mor asked casually, too casually, as she inspected her nails.
The question halted me, the weight of the implication settling in my stomach like a stone. The mating bond was sacred, profound—was I ready for something like that? The very thought made my heart race, not just with fear but with a blossoming hope I hadn’t acknowledged until now.
“Maybe he’s just being a good friend,” I countered, but my voice lacked conviction.
Cassian raised an eyebrow, giving me a knowing look. “When you know, you know,” he said simply. “And it looks like you’re starting to realize something there.”
We resumed training, but his words echoed in my mind with each strike and block. Azriel’s face appeared in my thoughts, his smiles, the gentle touch of his hands, the way his eyes lit up when he looked at me lately. My feelings for him, which I had shelved as mere gratitude or the simple need for companionship during recovery, seemed to be deepening into something richer, more profound.
As we finished and walked back towards the House of Wind, Mor looped her arm through mine. “You don’t have to figure it all out at once,” she whispered. “But don’t close your heart to the possibility of something beautiful. Azriel cares for you deeply, more than just as a friend or protector.”
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow that bathed the world in a soft, forgiving light. It felt symbolic, reflective of my own internal dawn. Maybe, just maybe, I was ready to consider that what lay between Azriel and me could be the kind of love that songs and tales were spun from. As fear and doubt receded, leaving room for this new, tender hope, I realized that my journey of healing was also leading me down a path of rediscovering my capacity to love—not just Azriel, but myself and this new life I was slowly, bravely building.
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(Mid Summer, The River House)
That evening, the dinner with the Inner Circle was held at the sprawling, candlelit table in the River House. The atmosphere was thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses, a symphony of friendship and familial bonds. The windows were thrown open, allowing the crisp, cool air of Velaris to sweep through the room, mixing with the scent of jasmine and roasted meats.
As I entered the dining room, a subtle change in my demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by the group. Rhysand was the first to catch my eye, giving me a nod of approval and a warm, welcoming smile. Amren, ever observant, watched me with her piercing gaze, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips, acknowledging the shift in my spirits.
Azriel, standing slightly apart, offered me a soft, encouraging smile as I took my place next to him. His quiet strength bolstered my newfound resolve to engage more fully with those around me.
Dinner began with a lively discussion led by Feyre about a recent exhibition at the art gallery in the city. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she described the vibrant colors and revolutionary techniques of the new artists showcased. I listened, chiming in with my thoughts on the integration of night and day themes, which earned an approving laugh from Rhys.
As the meal continued, Cassian, true to form, began recounting one of his training escapades, embellishing the details to make his tale more dramatic. “And then, just as I was about to execute my perfectly planned maneuver, an Illyrian baby sneezed on me. Totally threw off my game!”
Laughter erupted around the table, and I found myself genuinely chuckling, the sound surprising even to me. “Only you, Cassian, could be outmaneuvered by a baby’s sneeze,” I teased, earning a round of applause and a mock bow from Cassian.
“See, she’s got jokes now! Our girl’s coming back to us,” Mor exclaimed, her face alight with joy. She reached over to squeeze my hand, her gesture warm and reassuring.
As plates were cleared and desserts were served, the conversation shifted to lighter, more personal stories. Feyre shared anecdotes about her latest painting misadventures, while Mor detailed her plans for the upcoming festival in the city. Each story, each shared laugh, felt like a stitch mending the frayed edges of my soul.
As the dinner party began to wind down in the warm, laughter-filled hall, a soft coo from the corner caught my attention. Nyx, cradled gently in Feyre’s arms, was awake and curiously peeking over her shoulder with wide, starry eyes. I felt my heart tug softly. It had been too long since I had held him, too long since I’d allowed myself to be part of these simpler, beautiful family moments.
Feyre caught my gaze and smiled, understanding immediately. “Someone wants to say hello,” she said softly, walking over with Nyx. His small hand reached out, and I couldn’t help but smile as his fingers grasped at the air between us.
“May I?” I asked, my voice a whisper of excitement mixed with a hint of uncertainty.
“Of course,” Feyre replied, carefully transferring Nyx into my arms. The baby settled against me with ease, a soft sigh escaping him as if he found comfort in my embrace. His tiny hand reached up, touching my cheek gently, an innocent gesture that felt like a reassurance of missed affection. It was as if he was saying he remembered me, that he too had felt the absence of our connection.
The moment wasn’t lost on Azriel, who watched from a short distance. His shadows flickered subtly around him, a telltale sign of his emotions stirring beneath that calm exterior. Since the conversation with Cassian and Mor earlier today, every glance, every small interaction with him seemed charged with a new, silent tension. My newly admitted feelings for him amplified each shared look, adding weight to the air between us.
As I rocked Nyx gently, my thoughts drifted to Azriel again. His presence at my side had become a constant, his support unwavering. The depth of my affection for him had crept up silently, weaving itself into the fabric of my daily life until it was indistinguishable from my other truths. I found myself stealing glances at him, each look a quiet confession of the feelings I was only beginning to allow myself to acknowledge.
Azriel eventually made his way over, his gaze softening as he looked at Nyx in my arms. “He’s missed you,” Azriel murmured, his voice barely audible over the low hum of conversation around us.
I met his eyes, feeling a flush of warmth at the intimacy of the moment. “I’ve missed him, too. Missed all of this,” I admitted, my voice thick with emotion. The way Azriel looked at me then, with such warmth and depth, made my heart skip a beat.
“Looks good on you,” he said after a pause, nodding towards Nyx.
The comment, simple and offhand, thrummed with unspoken meanings. It was a nudge against the boundaries we had maintained, a gentle probing into the new spaces of my heart that had begun to open to him.
As I handed Nyx back to Feyre, I caught Azriel’s arm gently. “Stay for a moment?” I asked, my voice hopeful, laden with the weight of all the things I hadn’t yet said.
He nodded, his usual reserve melting away for a moment as he stayed by my side, his presence a silent promise of things perhaps soon to be explored. We both knew something unspoken was shifting between us, and while neither of us was ready to dive into those waters just yet, acknowledging it—even in silence—felt like the first step toward a new horizon.
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(Mid Summer, The House of Wind)
The following week, Feyre, Mor, Nesta, and I revived our "book club"—a ruse for nights filled with wine, wild discussions about our latest reads, and shared secrets under the cloak of night. As I sat curled up on a plush couch, a glass of wine in hand, surrounded by these incredible women, a profound sense of belonging enveloped me. Here, in these moments, I was safe to just be; to heal, to laugh, to grow.
The cozy nook tucked away in the House of Wind had become our sanctuary, a place where the Inner Circle’s book club convened to discuss literature, life, and everything in between. Tonight, as the flickering candlelight cast soft shadows across the room, I settled into my usual spot among the plush cushions, surrounded by my closest friends.
Feyre, Nesta, and Mor lounged around me, each with a book in hand, their faces alight with anticipation for our weekly gathering. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, the air buzzing with the promise of lively conversation and shared insights.
“So, what’s everyone reading this week?” Mor asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she glanced around the circle.
Feyre held up a worn copy of her latest find, a tale of forbidden love and political intrigue. “I’m revisiting an old favorite,” she said with a smile. “It’s like catching up with an old friend.”
Nesta, with a smirk playing on her lips, produced a rather scandalous-looking novel with a provocative cover. “I’m exploring the more… sensual side of literature,” she declared, her voice dripping with amusement.
As the conversation flowed around me, I couldn’t help but chuckle at Nesta’s choice. Leave it to her to bring a little spice to our book club discussions. I was hesitant to share tonight, scared to share my feelings so blatantly, to say them out loud in a space with women who would not so soon let me forget. Tonight felt different, though, I felt stronger, able to seize this chance to share with my friends the tumultuous emotions swirling inside me.
“I’ve been reading this collection of poetry,” I began, my voice tentative at first. “It’s funny how words can capture the complexity of human emotions so beautifully.”
Mor’s eyes gleamed with interest, her grin widening. “Ah, poetry—the language of the heart,” she said, her tone teasing yet tender. “Any particular poem speaking to you?”
I hesitated, my gaze flickering to the empty spot where Azriel usually sat. His absence was keenly felt, a reminder of the unresolved tension between us. “There’s one poem that resonates with me,” I admitted, my voice growing stronger with each word. “It’s about…” I faltered, the weight of my confession heavy on my tongue.
Feyre leaned forward, her eyes warm with understanding. “About love?” she prompted gently, her hand reaching out to squeeze mine in silent support.
I nodded, the words spilling forth in a rush. “About love, and fear, and the courage to open your heart to someone—even when it scares you.”
Nesta regarded me with a thoughtful expression, her gaze piercing yet compassionate. “Love is a battlefield,” she said, her voice soft yet firm. “But sometimes, the greatest victories come from facing our fears head-on.”
Mor chimed in with her trademark humor, lightening the mood with a well-timed joke. “Who knew our stoic Shadowsinger had a soft spot for you?”
Feyre smiled knowingly, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Maybe it’s time to confront the shadows and see what lies beneath.”
Nesta couldn’t resist adding her own brand of wit to the conversation. “Speaking of shadows,” she said with a sly grin, “has anyone else noticed Azriel’s wingspan lately?”
We all laughed at Nesta’s comment, the tension in the room dissipating as we embraced the camaraderie of our little gathering. Despite the challenges we faced, tonight was a reminder that with the support of friends, even the darkest shadows could be chased away.
As the evening wore on, our conversation drifted from books to more personal topics, each of us sharing snippets of our lives and experiences. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, a chance to peel back the layers and reveal the raw truths hidden beneath.
Nesta, ever the enigma, shared tales of her latest adventures in the human lands, her sharp wit and cunning intellect shining through with every word.
Mor, always the life of the party, regaled us with stories of her escapades in the Court of Nightmares, her laughter contagious as she recounted her misadventures.
And Feyre, with her quiet strength and unwavering compassion, offered words of wisdom and encouragement, her presence a soothing balm to our troubled souls.
As for me, I found solace in their company, the weight of my burdens eased by the warmth of their friendship. In their laughter and shared moments, I found the courage to confront my fears and embrace the possibility of a brighter future.
And as the candles burned low and the night grew late, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, I would face them with the unwavering support of my sisters by my side.
The support of the entire Inner Circle was a force as tangible as the magic that coursed through our veins—a constant, steadfast presence that fortified me against the darker moments. Their belief in me, their unyielding backing, gave me strength, and little by little, I began to feel not just the shadow of the person I once was, but someone stronger, resilient, reborn from adversity.
In these gatherings, these moments of shared vulnerability and joy, I was not just healing. I was transforming—emerging not how I was before the kidnapping, but perhaps even brighter, tempered by trials and warmed by the unwavering light of the family I chose and who had chosen me in return.
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(Late Summer, The House of Wind)
The night pressed heavily around the room, its silence a thick, oppressive blanket punctuated only by the soft, rhythmic breathing of Azriel beside me. In the comfort of his proximity, sleep had finally granted me a temporary reprieve from the relentless torment of my nightmares. Yet, the peace was fragile, vulnerable to the slightest disturbance—a reality proven as a sharp, inexplicable chill sliced through the room's stagnant warmth.
The temperature plummeted, wrapping its icy fingers around my spine, jolting me awake. My eyes flicked open, instantly scanning the familiar contours of the room bathed in the ethereal glow of moonlight. Shadows clung to the walls like dark, silent sentinels until one stirred coalescing into a form far too human, far too familiar.
Lyris emerged from the darkness as though materializing from my deepest fears, his presence a tangible echo of past horrors. His eyes, sharp and merciless, locked onto mine with the precision of a hunter sighting its prey. The sheer malevolence in his gaze sent a visceral shudder through me, yet it was no longer solely fear that stirred within my veins. Anger, raw and blazing, kindled within, fueling a burgeoning defiance I hadn't known I possessed.
"Thinking you could escape me?" Lyris's voice was a venomous hiss, his form inching closer with predatory grace. His smirk was twisted, a grotesque mask of sadistic anticipation.
But then, with the seamless reflexes honed by centuries of battle, Azriel was between us. His body moved with lethal precision, his hand snapping out to seize Lyris by the wrist, halting his advance with unyielding strength. "She's under my protection," Azriel snarled, his voice a dangerous, low rumble. His other hand flicked to his side, the sound of steel sliding from leather slicing through the tension as he brandished a dagger, its blade catching the moon's silver light.
Lyris recoiled slightly, his eyes darting to the blade then back to Azriel’s unwavering stare. "You think you can keep her from her fate?" he spat, struggling against Azriel's iron grip.
“Her fate is her own, and you have no part in it,” Azriel retorted, his wings unfurling menacingly. The air around us thickened with dark, swirling shadows, responding to the raw power emanating from him. In that moment, he was not just my protector but an avenging angel cloaked in night's embrace.
The room filled with a heavy, expectant silence, thick with the weight of unspoken threats. Breaking the tension, I found my voice, though it trembled with the force of my emotions. "Where are my wings, Lyris?" The question tore from me, a desperate plea tangled with a demand.
"Your wings?" he mused mockingly, his eyes glinting with cruelty. "Such a precious prize… Let's just say they're kept in a place where they await their true destiny—far from your reach.”
"Give them back," Azriel demanded, his tone lethal, a stark contrast to the deceptive calm of his posture.
Lyris's laugh was cold and chilling, like the howl of the wind outside. "You overestimate your power here, shadow singer. I could take her now, and you wouldn't be able to stop me."
Azriel's response was swift and deadly serious. "Try it, and it will be the last thing you do." His wings unfurled dramatically as he snatched Lyris’ wrist in a powerful grip, the span of dark membrane filling the room with a sense of otherworldly power. The shadows around him deepened, swirling in response to his anger and the protective fury that laced every syllable.
The standoff stretched, a moment suspended in time where every breath, every heartbeat was laden with potential violence. Then, with a jerk, Lyris wrenched free, stepping back into the protective shroud of darkness. “She will never be free from me," he hissed, his presence oppressive, suffocating. "And neither will you."
Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he dissolved into shadows, leaving a cold void in his wake. His final words echoed ominously, a malevolent promise hanging in the air. As the immediate threat vanished, Azriel’s demeanor shifted, the lethal warrior receding to reveal his concern. He turned to me, his intense gaze softening. “Are you alright?” His voice was now a gentle whisper, a stark contrast to the deadly thunder from moments before.
I collapsed back against the pillows, my body trembling uncontrollably. The fear wasn't just about the physical presence of Lyris—it was the emotional and psychological terror, the deep scars he had left on my soul, that overwhelmed me.
Azriel sat beside me, enveloping me in his arms, his presence a solid, reassuring force against the lingering echoes of dread. "I'm here. You're safe," he murmured against my hair, his voice a soothing balm.
Tears streamed down my cheeks, sobs wracking my body as the terror slowly ebbed away, replaced by immense fatigue. "We have to get them back, Azriel. I need to feel whole again."
His embrace tightened, a silent promise of unyielding support. "We will," he assured me quietly. "No matter what it takes, we will bring them back.” He took a deep breath, his arms tightening around me as if he were scared that I might run from him. “Always, I will protect you. From him, from anyone who dares to threaten you,” he murmured into my hair, his breath warm against my scalp. His wings, now gently wrapped around us, formed a cocoon that felt impenetrable.
Settling back against him, I allowed the warmth of his embrace to seep deeper into my bones, expelling the lingering chill of Lyris's visit. His presence was a bastion, within which I found not only protection but a profound sense of belonging.
As we lay back down, the room once again shrouded in the soothing silence of night, a new resolve fortified my spirit. Lyris had found me, yes, but he had not found me alone, nor would he ever. Azriel’s vow to protect me was more than a promise—it was a declaration, a sentinel set against the darkness, both within and without. As sleep beckoned once more, the shadows no longer seemed an ominous threat lurking in the corners but allies, guardians cloaked in the same darkness that wrapped around us, a shield against all that would do harm.
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(Late Summer, Cassian)
The morning after Lyris's intrusion, the House of Wind seemed to hold its breath, an unspoken tension palpable in the air. Everyone had shared their worries for her, our friend who had clawed her way back from that bastard's torment. We all worried, we all loved her so greatly, enjoyed the way her presence warmed Azriel’s cold exterior and to see her fall back into that dark place she had fought her way out of, to take Azriel unknowingly with her again, it poured a dark sense of grief over the house.
But amidst the uncertainty, the deep seeded fear of losing our friend once more, there was a glimmer of light, a beacon of hope cutting through the darkness. Entering the kitchen, I was met with a scene that caught me off guard—our friend, her laughter ringing out like a bell as she shared a moment of levity with Azriel. It was a rare sight, one that stirred a mixture of surprise and quiet satisfaction within me.
Azriel, usually cloaked in shadows both literal and metaphorical, had a small, genuine smile playing at the corners of his lips. His usually guarded demeanor seemed to soften in her presence, and I couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in the air between them.
Their interaction spoke volumes, a silent language of understanding and companionship that transcended words. Despite the trials they had faced, there was a sense of comfort and familiarity in their shared laughter, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still light to be found in the company of those we held dear.
As I joined them in the kitchen, a silent witness to their shared moment of joy, I couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the bond that had formed between them. Their friendship had weathered storms that would have broken lesser souls, and yet here they were, laughing together as if the weight of the world had been lifted from their shoulders.
And as I observed them, surrounded by the warmth of their laughter and the comfort of their companionship, I couldn't help but feel a surge of hope for the future. For in the bond between her and Azriel, I saw strength, resilience, and the promise of brighter days ahead.
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(Late Summer, The House of Wind)
The day had been long and daunting, with every passing moment feeling like a test of endurance. The worry from my friends was palpable, their concern etched into every glance and every word. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate their care—it was their hovering, their treating me like a fragile thing, that grated against my newfound sense of strength. But amidst it all, there was Azriel.
He stood as a steadfast anchor amidst the storm, a silent guardian who watched over me with unwavering determination. While others fretted and fussed, he remained at my side, a silent sentinel who seemed to understand without the need for words. His presence alone was enough to bolster my spirits, to remind me that I was not alone in this struggle.
Throughout the day, I found myself stealing glances at him, marveling at the depth of his care. How had I not noticed it before? His gaze lingered on me with a mixture of concern and understanding, his eyes a window to the depths of his soul. It was as if he saw straight through the facade I presented to the world, recognizing the strength within me even when I doubted it myself.
As evening descended and the weight of the day settled upon us, we retreated to the familiar sanctuary of my room. Azriel had made it his own, his presence a comforting presence in the darkness. The routine of preparing for bed had become second nature to us—changing into pajamas, brushing our teeth side by side, and slipping under the covers as Azriel performed his meticulous check of the room.
In the quiet moments before sleep claimed us, we lay in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for Azriel's unwavering support, for his steadfast presence that had seen me through the darkest of days. It was a bond forged in the crucible of adversity, a connection that defied explanation yet felt more real than anything I had ever known.
“Azriel?” I called softly into the night, my voice barely a whisper.
He turned to me, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the window. For a moment, we simply gazed at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. And then, with a small smile, he reached out, pulling me closer until I was nestled against his chest.
At that moment, as I lay nestled against Azriel's chest, something shifted between us—a subtle yet profound change that altered the very fabric of our connection. It was as if the air crackled with an invisible energy, a tangible tension that seemed to draw us closer together.
I felt it first, the unmistakable sensation of the mating bond snapping into place with a sudden clarity that took my breath away. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth that had always been there, hidden beneath the surface. The primal need to be close to him, to feel his presence as an extension of my own, suddenly made perfect sense.
And then, as if in response to my realization, Azriel let out a small gasp, his arms tightening around me with a fierce urgency that mirrored my own. It was a primal, instinctual reaction, as if some ancient part of him recognized the significance of this moment and refused to let me go.
In that instant, all doubts and uncertainties melted away, replaced by a profound sense of clarity and understanding. We were bound together, our souls intertwined in a way that transcended the physical realm. And as I gazed into Azriel's eyes, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united by the unbreakable bond that now bound us.
"I'll protect you, ensure you are safe and happy and loved," Azriel vowed, his voice a soothing melody that wrapped around me like a warm embrace, promising sanctuary in the depths of his love.
Tears welled in my eyes as his words washed over me, a flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm my fragile resolve. "As will I," I replied, my voice trembling with the weight of my own commitment, my heart laid bare before him in a moment of raw vulnerability.
His eyes, pools of darkness tinged with golden fire, bore into mine with a fierce intensity, piercing through the walls I had built around my heart. "Throughout all the seasons you will be mine, if that is what you want?" His voice was a whisper, yet it echoed through the chambers of my soul, stirring something deep within me that I could no longer deny.
With a trembling breath, I reached out to him, my fingers trembling as they traced the contours of his face, memorizing every line, every scar, every shadow that danced across his skin. "There is no one else I would rather share them with," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper, the truth of my words ringing out in the quiet room like a sacred vow.
And in that moment, as our souls intertwined in the golden threads of the mating bond, I felt a surge of emotion wash over me, overwhelming in its intensity. It was as if the weight of a thousand lifetimes had been lifted from my shoulders, replaced by a sense of peace and belonging that I had longed for all my life.
With tears streaming down my cheeks, I pressed my forehead against his, our breaths mingling in the space between us as we stood on the precipice of eternity. In that sacred embrace, we found refuge from the storms that had battered our souls, forging a connection that would endure the trials of time. And as we surrendered to the pull of the mating bond, our hearts beat as one, a symphony of love and devotion that echoed through the halls of the House of Wind.
Together, we would face the challenges that lay ahead, our bond a beacon of hope in the darkness, guiding us through the labyrinth of life with unwavering strength and unwavering love.
For in each other's arms, we had found our home, our sanctuary, our forever. And as the night enveloped us in its embrace, we knew that no matter what trials awaited us, we would face them together, united in a love that was destined to last for all eternity.
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