In Love With The Bat(s)

Lucien sat up halfway, bracing himself on his elbows. “And just where in the bloody hell did we wake up?” He squinted, and Elain wondered if he felt as awful as she did. 

At his question, Elain took stock of their surroundings. The walls consisted of wooden boards, gently sloped to create a long room that was wider at its center than it was at either end. Wooden crates took up at least half of the space, which told her something about what type of room they were in: one not likely to be frequented by anyone who could help them. Her back was against a wooden crate marked “Fertilizer”. 

“Well, that accounts for the smell,” Elain said to herself, giving up a silent thanks that neither of them had managed to soil themselves during their slumber.  

Lucien pushed himself up to a seated position, taking details in as Elain watched. He glanced at the crates, the walls, and after taking in the golden thread attaching them to one another, his eyes met hers. 

“So, we seem to be in a situation.”

Elain nodded. “Any idea of how we got here?” She raised her arm once more, without creating enough tension to pull his arm along with hers. “And what to do about this?”

“The last thing I remember, you had your finger in my face.” Lucien shifted, straightening the collar of his shirt. “Although I’m sure I did nothing to merit such indignation.”

“You deserved it, I’m sure.” Elain thrummed her fingers on the floorboards beneath her. “Though the last thing that I remember was being dragged to Rita’s by Mor and Feyre, and then the two of them giving some flimsy excuse to leave the two of us there alone, and then us ordering drinks.”

While Elain admired Mor’s plucky spirit and optimism, sometimes she wished that the truthsinger could be just a little bit less correct in her intuition. Sure, it had been months since Elain and Lucien had last seen one another. Yes, Elain had confided in Mor that she’d had multiple - an overwhelming amount, really - dreams that heavily featured Lucien in a starring role. And yes, Elain had perhaps told Mor once, late at night, that she wanted to spend time with Lucien without making a whole big thing of it. It was impossible to live in the Night Court and see Lucien without everyone staring and speculating, and yes, Elain had told Mor that it was an impossible situation, and that perhaps if they were out of the way of prying eyes, then they might be able to figure out what, if anything, existed between them.

That didn’t mean that Elain suspected, exactly, that Mor would be up to something the next time Lucien showed up in Velaris. And that certainly didn’t mean that Elain appreciated being bound - quite literally, this time - to her mate, in a ship headed for an undisclosed location and unsure of how they had gotten there.

“No use wasting a good time” Lucien said, nodding as if he agreed with their past decisions to get inebriated to the point that they ended up tied together, in the uncertain hull of an uncertain ship, headed for an uncertain destination. 

“How many drinks did we have?” Elain asked. “I remember letting you order, you choosing… well, you ordered our drinks and then we were waiting for them. And we talked?” What Elain hadn’t said, wouldn’t say, was that Lucien had chosen a bottle of wine that Elain had her own eye on. So when he ordered for the table, she had feigned disinterest in what they were drinking, so long as it involved alcohol.

“I seem to remember a bit more than you, it seems,” Lucien said, rubbing his face in his hands. “Because by the time your finger was so pointily thrust in my face and my memory becomes fuzzy, you were well into your second bottle of wine.”

“And then we ended up here,” Elain said, as much to herself as to Lucien.

“Indeed.” Lucien tapped the toe of his boot on the floor. “Though where ‘here’ is, we have yet to determine.”

“We seem to be on a boat. Perhaps a ship.”

“And we seem to be masters of stating the obvious.”

“Because your contributions have been so illuminating,” Elain quipped. She sat up straighter, stretching her arms above her head and ignoring the fact that Lucien was forced to move along with her. 

“Should we go above deck?” Lucien asked, once Elain had completed her stretches. 

“Only if you’re prepared to answer questions about this, to a group of strangers,” Elain said, yanking on the golden chain. “Which I don’t think I am. Especially if we are in one of my father’s boats.” Elain avoided looking at Lucien, not wanting to see pity - or whatever other emotion he might express - on his face. There was more to tell there, from when Lucien and her father had spent time together. It felt like a lifetime ago. And it seemed like yesterday.

“Fair point,” Lucien conceded. “We wouldn’t want them speculating about what the prettiest Archeron gets up to on her days off. And how do you suppose we deal with this situation, then? Shall we try to contact Feyre? She has some of my father’s powers, after all.”

“No,” Elain said, a bit too quickly. “I can’t bother Feyre with this.” She sat up straighter, determination infusing her posture. “I will handle this on my own.”

“Hm.”

“‘Hm’, what? What, hm?”

“It’s just that you have a very powerful sister who could help, but you don’t want her to know about our predicament?”

“No.” Elain smoothed out the already smooth skirt of her dress. “I got myself into this mess, I can get myself out.”

“Well,” Lucien said, “I might have had a hand in it. Unintentionally, of course.”

“Then you’ll help me get out of this mess.” Elain eyed Lucien warily.  “What did you put in my drink, by the way?” 

Lucien frowned. “I believe alcohol is its own kind of punishment when you imbibe enough of it, my lady. There was no need for my interference.”

“Oh,” Elain responded. She huffed, as if she couldn’t believe she were associated with such behavior. 

Elain had left the table at Rita’s more than once, under the pretense of needing to powder her nose. In reality, she had closed herself in a bathroom stall, tried to cool the flush in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the wine, and figure out what she could say to make Lucien leave. Or what she could say to make him take her with him when he next left Velaris. She gave him ample opportunity to leave her alone, but every time she walked back to the table and spied him in a casual, alert posture, clearly waiting for her, Elain’s heart leaped just the smallest amount.

But two bottles? Well. Lucien did have good taste, Elain had to admit, and she hadn’t been able to help herself.

“Who do you normally blame for your predicaments?” he asked. 

“I don’t get into them,” Elain said. Then, after a beat, “Nesta.” Elain met Lucien’s glance briefly, wanting to share a conspiratorial grin but not certain whether this was the occasion to act too smug. Her mouth quirked up at one corner before she looked back down at the floor. 

“Well then, why are we stuck here?”

Lucien examined the golden chain between his fingers. “It seems, Elain, to be some sort of magic.”

“Well thank goodness it is you that I am attached to,” she replied. She looked him full in the face, not bothering to hide her scowl. “I’m not sure I would have figured it out otherwise.” 

Elain’s instinct had words of apology on the tip of her tongue. She didn’t behave this way - wine aside, she never found herself so easily riled and so quick with a quip. It was an odd sensation, to know that Lucien brought out parts of herself that Elain thought she’d buried under years of making herself small. 

Lucien, however, ignored the barb, as he usually did. He fingered the fine golden chain between his thumb and forefinger, examining it for something Elain couldn’t discern. She assumed that he knew far more about magic than she, and left him to it. While he was so distracted, Elain was freer to watch the way his eyes narrowed in concentration, a strand of hair fell from his ponytail and brushed his cheek. His shirtsleeves were rolled up past his elbow, but still did nothing to hide the muscles beneath. He had been wearing a jacket the evening before. She wondered when he had taken it off. 

“I thought Feyre was the artist, Elain,” he said, his eyes still on the chain.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said, looking up at her, “That you are examining me rather closely, and I assume that there is some purpose? Are you studying my features for a reason?”

Elain blushed. “No.”

Lucien stood suddenly, spry as if he hadn’t spent the night sleeping on the hard wooden floor of a ship’s deck. He offered a hand to Elain, which she took, and helped her to her feet. By the time she had come to standing, their fingers were threaded together, as if it was as natural as breathing for Elain’s limbs to be entwined with Lucien’s. They shared a look, each opening and closing their mouths in uncertainty. The chain around her wrist was warm from Elain’s body heat, but there was something else to it, as well. Something that seemed to come alive when they approached one another. 

Finally, Elain pulled her hand away. “What do you supposed we should do?” The chain clinked quietly to the floor, just brushing it now that they were both standing.

“I could try my powers,” Lucien suggested. Elain knew that Lucien had recently learned of Helion’s true role in his mother’s life, of the circumstances of his parentage. She wasn’t yet sure how much time Lucien and Helion had spent together, or of Lucien’s true feelings about the man. She wanted to know, of course. She could sense the hesitation in his voice as he merely alluded to Helion, registered the hope and apprehension.

“Have you practiced much with them?” Elain bit her tongue. What a question to ask, as if they had just sat down for tea and a chat to catch up. She was genuinely curious, as their lives were, thus far, mostly a mystery to one another. 

“I’ve been spending some time in the Day Court,” he said. “Just came from there, in fact, when Mor and Feyre wrangled me into yesterday evening at Rita’s.”

Elain tilted her head, waiting for him to continue. Her silence wasn’t merely an absence; Elain had learned as a child that others felt the need to fill in the gaps in a conversation, which would lead them to saying more than they intended. Her silence was a weapon, or in Lucien’s case, a key to a lock they each owned pieces of yet didn’t know how to work.

Lucien ran his hands through his hair. “I’ve been practicing enough to give it a try, though I can’t promise anything. You may as well get comfortable, if you don’t want anyone to see us tied together. I doubt you could blame this one on Nesta.” He reached down to run the golden chain through his fingers before she could respond.

“It’s gold,” Lucien said after a moment’s examination.

“Clearly.”

“No,” Lucien said, “I mean real gold. The metal, not just the color. It’s used in spells in the Day Court, highly correlating with light and healing. I suspect that Mor was not the only person conspiring to get us alone.”

“Helion?” 

“Or my mother.”

Lucien returned his gaze to the chain, looking at individual links as if he could find a weakness in them. He pulled at the chain, carefully so that it wouldn’t tug on Elain, then muttered something under his breath. Elain noticed a glow that she swore was coming from Lucien, a smaller, muted kind of glow compared to what she had seen Helion display. 

Minutes passed. Elain started humming a song under her breath. And she started when they heard heavy footsteps on the wooden planks above them. They wouldn’t be alone for long, whether they wanted to be or not.

“Why aren’t you better at this? 'Spell-cleaver' my ass,” she muttered under her breath.

“Why didn’t you see this coming?” Lucien retorted. “It’s in the name of your powers, seer.” He let the chain go and it gently clinked on the floor.

“That isn’t how my magic works,” she snaps, and then let’s out a long, deeply pained sigh. “I suppose neither of us wanted to end up here, did we?”

“I don’t know,” Lucien replied. “I’ve been meaning to take a vacation from traipsing around the world on other people’s errands. It’s like a blind date with travel. A blind travel.” His eyes flicked to Elain’s at the word date, the implications that they were vacationing together, that they had been put into this situation with a very specific goal in mind. 

“You can’t just make up words like that, don’t be ridiculous.” 

“Which words did I make up, dearest Elain?”

“Well, not a word, per se, but you said ‘blind travel’ like it’s actually a thing. That would never be a thing, no one wants to hop on a horse with a blindfold, people need plans and preparation. ‘Blind travel’, ugh.”

“Or hop in the cargo hold of a ship, bound for lands unknown?”

Elain sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m not normally like this. I’m usually much more…”

“Polite?” Lucien offered. “Considerate? Thoughtful?”

“Yes,” Elain snapped, “But for some reason, when I’m around you I get so… so…” She let out a sigh and shook her hands out in the air before her. “I don’t know what to do with myself when you’re around.”

“And why do I rate such special attention?” 

“Well you are unusually annoying,” Elain said. “Even for a fae. And your hair is so…” She gestured broadly. “I doubt you even take care of it yourself, it’s so shiny.”

Lucien placed a hand on his chest. “I’ll have you know that I brush these strands myself. Never accuse me of being a slack hand at self-maintenance, my lady. Especially not when you yourself know what goes into the project.”

“Hm.” Elain had to admit that Lucien was deft at taking her insults and turning them into compliments. She wrapped one of her own curls around her finger. “Well, I am sorry. Even if it never seems to bother you when I am like this.”

“And why would it? I prefer this Elain to the other Elain.”

“What ‘other’ Elain?” she asked.

“The one you are when you’re around your family. With Feyre, Nesta, and Rhys. It’s a lovely mask you wear, to be sure, but don’t think that no one can see beyond it.”

“That’s rather presumptuous. You hardly know me, Lucien.”

“No,” he admitted, “I don’t know you nearly so much as I wish to.” Elain felt a blush creeping across her chest, up her neck, to her cheeks. “But I like to think that I can see you the way that you want to be seen.”

“As the ‘prettiest Archeron’?” she asked, wary.

“No. As the Archeron who stood behind her sisters, trying to hold the family together, who suffered and watched the people she loved suffer, who remained kind despite it all, who might have lost a bit of who she was along the way. So that leaves me with one question, Elain. Are you pushing me away because you’re afraid?”

“No!” Elain stuttered, trying to add to her exclamation. Her mind reeled under the weight of his admissions. “I just… you’re so! And then I get very! And so in conclusion, yes! I don’t know you but I feel like I do. I feel like no matter what I say, you understand what I actually mean, even when I don’t want you to.”

Lucien paused before he spoke, giving Elain a moment to collect herself. He turned away from her, strode in a broad circle around the room as if he were wandering an art gallery, keeping his hand positioned so that the chain stretched taut between them without pulling Elain along. Elain felt the metal growing cold, despite the warmth of the morning. He turned back to her and waited until she met his eyes before he spoke.

“I feel the same way about you, you know.”

“Really?” Elain’s voice was tinged with hope, with the prospect that she might not be alone in her hesitant interest.

“I wonder what you know, even when I’m a world away. Does Elain know what I’m dreaming? Does she know how I’m feeling? Does she know how often I think about her?” For the first time since they had woken up, Lucien looked well and truly unguarded. An exhaustion settled over him that Elain knew far too well.

“I like the way you say my name.” She gave him a small smile. “I think that I could, if I tried, watch your dreams. I wonder sometimes if, when I dream of you, if you’re really there and not just something my mind wanted. I hate to wake up.” 

“And just now you thought that all of your dreams had come true when you woke up to find me by your side,” Lucien said, one corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin.

“Yes,” Elain said, lightly hitting him in the arm, “My dreams usually feature crates of smelly materials in the hull of a ship bound for Cauldron knows where. And you.” She grinned back at Lucien, the first true smile she had let him see. 

“Well,” Lucien said, taking a deep breath. “I’m not sure that there is anything down here that will get this chain off of us. I think we might need to go above deck and find out where we are, see if we can find someone who remembers last night better than we do.”

“But what was the bargain?” Elain grasped the chain between her fingers again. Its weight had, in the short time, become more of a curiosity than an inconvenience. 

Lucien tilted his head, contemplating. “I’m not sure there is a way for us to know, if neither of us remembers. Perhaps we could ask Feyre? Mor might have told her.”

“No!” 

He raised his hands in surrender. “After we get ourselves out of this, of course.”

“Alright,” Elain conceded. “Once we get take care of this, and we come up with a way to get revenge on Mor and Feyre and Helion and whoever else was involved in this, so long as they never suspect us.”

Lucien grinned, mimicking the conspiratorial grin that Elain had hesitated to show before. “I think I like that plan, Ms. Archeron. And if they find out, we can always say the mating bond made us do it. Rhys is always going into those rages, surely the rest of us with mates are also allowed lapses in judgement.”

Elain cocked her head. “We were powerless to resist.” Her mind flashed to her dreams, ones that had her waking up and touching herself. Dreams that she thought had been thrust upon her, but that she now wondered if she had invited.

Lucien stepped forward, close enough so that she could feel his breath on her cheek. He grasped her hand, pulled it up to his mouth and brushed his lips across her knuckles. The golden chain warmed and glowed lightly, and Elain wondered if she might not enjoy the way the magic seemed to understand her better than she understood herself.

“Let’s go see where we are, first. One step at a time.”

Elain nodded, mute. She stood on a precipice, and she knew that it would feel so good to fall. If only she could find it in herself to take that first step.

They made their way to the wooden staircase leading out of the bowels of the ship. They stayed close to one another, mindful of the length of the chain. When Lucien reached the top stairs, he turned to hold Elain’s hand, assisting her the rest of the way. As she reached the fresh, salty air, she wondered at the view.

“Where are we?” she asked. The boat rocked gently but was tied to a dock, stationary. Waiting for them to disembark.

And Elain smiled as Lucien responded.

Silence hung between them, the only sound the distant buzz of the Rainbow and the thud of her heels against stone spindles. Azriel’s gaze fell upon her profile, taking note of her in the quiet. Something seemed off, and if the ever-so-slightly swollen eyes and the pink staining her cheeks and the tip of her nose were any indication, he figured she may have been crying not too long ago. The corners of his mouth tugged down in a frown as he contemplated how to continue the conversation, understanding the need to tread carefully.

“How long have you been out here?” The priestess gave him a shrug but didn’t turn to face him.

“I’m not sure. Awhile.”

The shadowsinger’s eyes narrowed as he pushed, “It has to have been a few hours, Berdara. I’ve been in the living room for the last two and I didn’t see or hear you come out.”

“Maybe you just didn’t notice.” Gwyn’s voice was teasing, yet tight. As if he was starting down a path she didn’t want to follow. An inky wisp darted out and skated over her speckled knuckles, hinting at the spymaster’s retort.

“As talented as you are, priestess, I would have noticed. As would my shadows,” he muttered flatly before adding a whispered, “especially if you appeared troubled.”

The Valkyrie’s sharp inhale wasn’t loud by any means, but it seemed to echo around them – an unintentional confirmation that she wasn’t her cheery, irreverent self. Those big, beautiful eyes darted to his for a moment, sparkling in the afternoon light, before darting away again. Azriel sighed. Clearly he needed to approach this from a different direction.

“So no plans with Nesta or Emerie? It’s quite unlike the three of you not to take advantage of a day off from training.”

“Yes, well, they have mates to fill their time and their hearts,” she snapped, but he kept his expression neutral. “So yes, I’ve been sitting on the gods-damned balcony for nearly four hours because nobody cares about me.”

It was Azriel’s turn to take a breath, eyes widening. The priestess groaned, rubbing her hands over her face before running her fingers through her hair in exasperation.

“Alright, so that was dramatic.” She grimaced, still staring out over the city. The shadowsinger wondered how she couldn’t feel his eyes boring into her, begging her to turn to him and understand that it wasn’t true. “I know people care about me. I know you and Cass and Nesta and Em care about me, but nobody CARES cares, you know? And I promise I’m not jealous – I wish them every happiness in the world, and I would never expect them to sacrifice that for me.

“And I’m not sitting here sad because I’m not in a romantic relationship. Most of the time I’m more than content on a day like this to train or read or spend time in the library, but sometimes it would be… nice. To have someone to share that time with.” She was rambling, a brief unintentional glimpse into the rush of her brilliant, tireless mind. “And it’s not as if I can really have any expectation that I would have that. I can’t even visit the city, so how could I hope to meet anyone. And even if I did, who would want to be in a relationship with me when I don’t even know if I can handle holding a hand, much less –“

“Gwyn,” Azriel choked out, her face finally snapping to his. He felt his heart crack open, her waterfalling words betraying insecurities that few people would even believe existed. But how could she possibly think that? She was sunshine and happiness and love and strength and beauty, and any male would be a fucking fool to turn their back on that simply because she still had healing to do. He bristled at the mere notion that any other male would even have the opportunity. His throat bobbed as he realized, lost in her teal gaze, that he hadn’t said anything else. “I care about you.”

“I know, Az,” she breathed, her lips tilting up in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Like I said, I know people care about me. I –“

“No, Gwyn. That’s not what I mean,” he murmured, reaching a scarred hand to cover hers, curling his fingers to grasp it gently. He swallowed the lump of anxiety in his throat. “I… I CARE care, as you put it.” She looked stunned, and Azriel offered a gentle quirk of his lips as roses bloomed atop the constellations of freckles that dotted her cheeks. He let his thumb slide over her fingers, waiting for her to form a response. There was once again silence between them, but it didn’t feel heavy or uncomfortable. And when the corners of her eyes crinkled with the growing grin upon her lips he felt his own cheeks heat with hope and a child-like shyness.

“You do?” she whispered. The shadowsinger dipped his chin, deftly turning her hand over so he could lace his fingers between hers.

“Now come on. I don’t like you hanging over the edge of the balcony.” He gave her arm a tug, and she turned and lifted her legs over the railing.

“You worry too much, Shadowsinger,” she laughed. Azriel’s shadows flitted back to life at the joyous sound, and his smile brightened. He led her back toward the house, hands still twined together.

“I worry the appropriate amount,” he scolded. After a couple more steps he felt a pull on his arm, and he turned to find the lovely Valkyrie wearing an affectionate expression. The shadowsinger’s head tilted in silent question, the answer a comforting warmth as Gwyn pressed herself against him and wrapped her arms around his middle. He tensed at the unexpected embrace, wings tucking impossibly close to him even as the dark tendrils of darkness seemed to celebrate in twirls and twists. But just as quickly as he had gone rigid with surprise he relaxed, clasping his hands at the small of her back and leaning a cheek on her silken copper tresses. “Gwyn?” he whispered, feeling her embrace tighten in response.

“I… I care care about you, too. In case you were wondering.”

Azriel chuckled, allowing his hands to splay over her back. Having her in his arms was like a dream, something that he had never quite allowed his heart to hope for. With one more quick squeeze he released her. “Alright, no more lonely day off. We can spend some time in the library and then have dinner?” Gwyn’s smile outshone the sun at the suggestion, and she hooked an arm around his to pull him inside.

“It’s a date, then,” she giggled, her gaze full of hope and happiness. And Azriel knew that, from this moment forward, those ocean eyes were home.

“It’s not very professional of us to be late to our own party.”

Cassian was sitting on the couch, even as he hollered up the stairs, knowing Nesta could hear him.

“Don’t blame me,” she called back. “I’m not the one who decided to give the toddler a candy cane while he was wearing a white shirt.”

Cassian snorted, looking at the child in question, though he knew she was using Nyx’s last minute wardrobe change as an excuse. Nyx had been downstairs with him for nearly twenty minutes, the candy cane devoured long before that. The dark green sweater he now wore made his blue eyes sparkle and he giggled up at him, grinning. She was still in their bathroom, making herself look absolutely gorgeous, no doubt, but they were short on time.

“People are going to start arriving at seven and it’s six-fifteen now,” he said, glancing at his watch.

“I know, I know, shut up!” she yelled, but even Cassian could hear the amusement in her voice.

“Dada,” Nyx said, walking toward Cassian. “Nums?”

Nums. Cassian assumed it derived from the word yum, which meant that he was hungry. With a sigh, Cassian picked Nyx up and said, “I promise, as soon as we get to the restaurant, we’ll eat. I’m hungry as shit, too.”

“Way to teach the toddler how to curse.” Nesta’s voice rang out from the top of the stairs and Cassian spun around. He whistled as Nesta made her way down the stairs in a red dress and black heels.

Her long, golden-brown hair was down and in loose curls. Her lips were painted red, and green sparkles lined her eyes.

Cassian lifted a brow. “You look festive.”

Nesta chuckled. “Thank Elain. She’s the one that told me I’d better show up looking like Christmas or she’d make me look like Christmas when she got there.”

Cassian laughed, quietly. “Well, I think you look absolutely stunning.”

Nesta smiled as she stopped in front of him. “Thank you.”

They kissed, and Nyx babbled, loudly, letting them know it was time to break it up.

“Alright, alright,” she chuckled, running a hand over his dark hair. “Let’s grab you a snack and we’ll go.”

“I want a snack,” Cassian protested, following her into the kitchen.

She was dropping a handful of goldfish crackers into a zip top bag, and looked at him over a shoulder. “I can’t tell if that was an innuendo or not.”

His eyes traveled down her body, snagging where her tight dress hugged her ample assets, but said, “For once, it wasn’t. Though if you want to sneak off to the store room later…”

Snorting, Nesta sealed the bag up and rolled her eyes. “Absolutely not.” She brushed past them, handing the baggie of crackers to Cassian as she pulled both Nyx’s and her own coats from the closet. “It is Christmas Eve though. Who knows what Santa may bring you when we get home?” She asked with a wink.

Cassian groaned. “You can’t tell me that now. We won’t be home for, like, six hours. Tease.”

“That’s what you love about me,” she muttered, helping Nyx put his coat on.

“There’s a lot of things I love about you,” Cassian promised.

Nesta rolled her eyes, but gave Cassian a kiss, anyways. “Suck up.”

Cassian grinned, and followed Nesta, carrying Nyx to the car.

It was a short drive to the restaurant, and when they arrived, it was already packed. Being Christmas Eve, the place was closed, but that didn’t mean that the place was empty. All of the employees and their families were there, along with Nesta and Cassian’s closest friends - which included Elain, Azriel, and Peresphone. Viviane was there, of course, both with Kallias and per Cassian and Nesta’s invitation. Other than that, their employees and their families filled the room. Considering Nesta had only begun with a few servers, seeing the extended family that they had built brought Cassian more joy than he could express.

Once they entered the restaurant, Nyx was instantly reaching for Viv. Cassian spotted Azriel and Kallias by the bar, and he chose to quickly join them while Nesta joined her sister and niece by the appetizers.

“Everything looks absolutely gorgeous,” Elain said, hugging Nesta, handing a grinning Seph to her.

She snorted. “I can’t even begin to take credit. I hired someone to decorate.”

Rolling her eyes, Elain said, “Well, it all smells amazing, too.”

That, Nesta could take full responsibility for, and she would. One of the large banquet tables she used for catering was stretched between two massive Christmas trees, and every festive holiday food that anyone could possibly want was piled on top. She was most proud of the beautifully decorated sugar cookies that were on every flat surface she could sit a plate on.

Looking around, she saw Nyx was already nibbling on one and she couldn’t stop her chuckle.

“You all seem to be doing well,” Elain noted.

Nesta raised a brow, looking from Seph to Elain. “Pardon?”

“You, Cass, Nyx…” Elain shrugged, with a grin. “You all seem to be doing well.”

Nesta looked over at the bar, where Nyx’s face was covered in the icing from the sugar cookie and Cassian was laughing at something that Kallias or Azriel had said. She laughed, softly. “Yeah, we are.”

Elain took Nesta’s hand, and when Nesta met her sister’s eyes, she smiled. “I’m glad.”

“No, no, no,” Nesta chastised. “We aren’t getting sappy.”

Elain gasped. “I’m not getting sappy.”

Nesta chuckled. “Yeah, okay.” She looked back over to Cassian. He was already looking at her. He smiled. She blushed, looking away.

“Honestly,” Elain began, taking Peresphone’s hand. “Tell me.”

Nesta sighed, laughing quietly. “I don’t know. Everything is going…really well. I don’t know. I… I feel like we’re a family. Cass is a great dad, and Nyx adores him. And, he calls me mama now. Which makes me feel amazing, even though I’m not sure that it should. It’s complicated, you know? I know I’m not his mom, and Cassian knows that he’s not his dad, but… We’ve filled those roles. We’ve filled those roles and we love those roles, El. But, it sucks, because...we’re not his mom and dad.”

Elain looked at Nesta for a long moment before taking her sister’s hand. “Do you love that child?”

Nesta blinked. “Of course-.”

“Does Cass love that child?”

Nesta took a deep breath. “Of course he does.”

“Then you are his parents,” Elain said, carefully. “No, it’s not biologically, and Feyre and Rhys will always be his mom and dad…but you two are their stand-ins. You’re his mom, Nes. Cass is his dad. By blood? No. But, by love? You’re what he has, and he is blessed because of it.”

Nesta told herself not to get too emotional, but she had been having a hard time with that lately. It was hard not to get too emotional when it felt like everything was going right.

Nesta didn’t believe in perfection.

But, she felt like her life - her life with Cassian and Nyx - was pretty damn close to perfection.

“I like seeing that look in your eyes,” Elain said, quietly.

Nesta snapped back to reality, raising a brow at her sister. “What look?”

“Happiness,” Elain said, simply. She nodded to Cassian. “Things are going well with him, I take it?”

Nesta leaned across the table. “Are you...asking me about what goes on in the bedroom?” She gasped. “Elain.”

“What?” She said, sipping from her wine glass. “He’s only been pining after you for nearly six years. I’d bet a man who’s been doing that would have some plans when he finally had his chance to—.”

“There’s my girl,” Azriel said, smiling as Seph saw her daddy approach and started giggling.

“I should go mingle,” Nesta said, even as Elain gave her a look that said This conversation is far from over. “You guys are still coming over for lunch tomorrow, right?”

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Azriel replied, and Elain nodded in agreement, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Nesta did as she said she would, stopping around the room to see her servers, cooks, managers, bartenders. Along the way, she met their families, their husbands and wives and significant others. Their kids and parents and siblings. Anyone they decided to bring, Nesta welcomed them with a warm smile and kind words.

Cassian did the same, although not for as long, and ended up sitting with Viviane and Kallias, bouncing Nyx on his knee. Nesta couldn’t help but look at him every so often, admiring how handsome he was, admiring how much Nyx admired him.

Just as dinner was ready to be served, Nesta stood in the middle of the restaurant and clanked her fork against her wine glass to get everyone’s attention.

“Thank you all for coming,” Nesta said, smiling as she looked around the room. “This last year has been so incredible. With the addition of our bar, we really skyrocketed, and business has been better than ever before.” A round of applause echoed through the room. “Because of that, I’ve been able to double our staff, which has been incredible. I wanted to have this little party tonight to just show you all how incredibly grateful I am for each and every one of you. So, let’s eat, drink, and celebrate until the clock strikes twelve!”

No one had any complaints about that.

The caterers brought each table a beautiful display of food and Nesta took a seat next to Cassian to enjoy it all.

Everything was delicious and all in attendance made sure Nesta knew they enjoyed every bite. It wasn’t long before the plates were cleared and desserts were brought out. Nyx managed to stay mostly clean, though that was mostly due to Viviane helping feed him, rather than Cassian leaving him to his own devices. Nesta couldn’t help but smile as she watched, especially when Kallias, eyes shining in adoration, brought her hand to his lips. Right next to the diamond sparkling on her ring finger.

He had proposed a few weeks prior, to no one’s surprise but Viviane’s and would be married just after the new year.

After years apart, they swore they knew what they had been missing in their lives, and didn’t want to waste another minute without the other.

Nesta found herself pondering that as she watched Cassian, talking and laughing with Azriel, Nyx already starting to doze off on his shoulder.

Happy. She thought back to Elain’s words. She had never been as happy, as perfectly content in her life, as she was now.

Her restaurant was thriving. She loved what she did, wouldn’t ever want to do anything else, woke up happy to go to work.

Nyx was the light of her life. Watching him grow, learning who he was going to be one day… Being his mama was the greatest gift she’d never expected.

And Cassian… She had found the love of her life, even though he’d been right in front of her the whole time. Kallias and Viv, their time apart hadn’t been intentional. Nesta’s separation from Cassian, that had all been by their own doing. And she wouldn’t let another minute slip by them. She would make sure he knew how much she loved him, for the rest of his life.

As Christmas rolled around at midnight, everyone started to go home. Nesta and Cassian would be soon behind them, considering they still had to put out gifts for Nyx to open in the morning. Nesta couldn’t wait. She knew he was still a little bit too young to understand what was going on, but she was certain his little day would be made, nonetheless.

With a yawn, Cassian came out of the kitchen, Nyx sound asleep in his arms. “Alright. Back door is locked. Trash is taken out. Kitchen is clean.”

“Good,” Nesta said, feeling tired, too. It had been a good night. A long night, but a good night. “Let’s go home and wait for Santa.”

Cassian groaned as he picked up Nyx’s diaper bag and headed for the door. “What if Santa is too tired to bring presents tonight?”

“I don’t think Santa has that option,” Nesta chuckled. “And, if Santa is lucky and does what he’s told, he might have a little surprise under the tree, too.”

Cassian raised a brow as he stepped into the chilly night. “Oh yeah? Tonight? Or, does Santa have to wait until morning, too?”

She rolled her eyes, taking the diaper bag from him and letting him carry Nyx out to the car, before locking the door. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

He winked at her before buckling the sleeping toddler into his carseat and then they were on their way. Before they knew it, they were home, and as soon as they pulled into the driveway, fat, fluffy snowflakes had begun to fall from the sky.

“Looks like you get your white Christmas after all,” Cassian crooned, knowing Nesta had been slightly disappointed it hadn’t snowed before the party tonight.

She sighed as they entered the house. “I hope so.”

Cassian took Nyx upstairs to lay him down, and though they’d joked about Cassian playing Santa all night, Nesta was the one to lay all the presents out underneath the tree. Of course, only she knew what lay in the boxes wrapped in festive paper for Cassian and Nyx, but she saw a few with her name on them.

She resisted the urge to shake each one of them and investigate.

After she pulled a large, rectangular box wrapped in sparkly paper out of the bag, she couldn’t resist the urge any longer. After looking around the living room, she gently shook the box. A throat cleared from the top of the stairs.

Nesta yelped, spinning around from where she sat on the rug in front of the tree. Cassian stood on the top stair, his arms crossed, a brow raised as he chuckled. “And what is it that you think you’re doing?”

“Just…checking things out,” Nesta said, slowly, setting the gift on top of the others as Cassian made his way down the stairs. “He asleep?”

“Drooling, snoring, the whole nine yards,” Cassian said, plopping down next to her on the rug. “We get to eat cookies and drink lots of milk, right?”

Nesta snorted. “I think he’s a little young for that part yet.”

“Damn,” Cassian whistled. “I was looking forward to it.”

Nesta laughed, crawling into Cassian’s lap. “I mean, if you want milk and cookies, by all means, get yourself some milk and cookies.”

His fingers lazily dragged up and down her back, the gesture nothing more than a soothing habit he’d picked up. “Maybe tomorrow. So I can share the cookies with the already energetic toddler.”

They sat on the couch, still in their party finery, and those fingers trailed that path on her back. Her head was tucked under his chin, and after a moment, he breathed, “I’m so excited for tomorrow. For him to wake up and see his presents.”

Nesta’s voice was a sleepy drawl when she responded. “I want him to love Christmas as much as Feyre did.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “He will. We’ll make sure he knows what an important day it is for our family.”

Our family.

The words had become common for them, as they realized that’s exactly what they were.

A family.

*

“MamaDadaMamaDadaMamaDadaMamaDada—.”

Cassian groaned, rolling over to his nightstand, where the baby monitor sat. Nyx was going on and on and on and on, apparently ready to be taken out of his crib.

Cassian blinked, checking his phone.

It was seven in the morning.

It was Christmas.

He was tired, he wouldn’t deny it. Nesta had worn him out the night before - more than once, under the tree, and again in their bed before Cassian passed out.

It wasn’t a day for exhaustion, though. It was a day of celebration and love, which is why Cassian pulled himself up and smacked Nesta on the ass before he climbed out of bed.

“Wake up, Nes. It’s Christmas!”

He was stumbling out of their bedroom before Nesta had even opened her eyes. As he approached the nursery, Nyx’s voice grew louder and louder. The moment he pushed open the door, Nyx was grinning, holding up his arms.

“Merry Christmas, buddy,” Cassian said, chuckling as he picked Nyx up out of his crib. After a diaper change and a switch into his Christmas onesie, Cassian was carrying Nyx down the stairs, yelling for Nesta to hurry up.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” she said, yawning as she swept into the hallway.

Presents were obviously pretty high on the priority list, but in the Nazari-Archeron household, only one thing came first:

Breakfast.

Cassian gave Nyx a sippy cup of milk as he turned on the coffee pot and put the cinnamon rolls Nesta had prepared before the party last night into the oven.

He was stirring two spoons of sugar into her coffee when he heard her come into the kitchen.

“Merry Christmas, my handsome, little man,” she said, pressing a kiss to Nyx’s cheek. He giggled and held onto her face, giving her a wet, smacking kiss as well. It was something new he’d picked up and something Nesta adored to no end.

“And Merry Christmas to you,” she said, smiling up at Cassian, wrapping her arms around his neck. She rose up on her toes and kissed him.

“Pretty sure you told me that already, in quite a few ways last night,” he smirked, and she rolled her eyes smacking his chest.

“Eat quick,” Nesta said, sipping from her mug. “Santa came.”

Nyx babbled something as he drank his milk. “Too impatient to see what he brought you?” Cassian asked, sitting at the table, waiting for the cinnamon rolls to be done.

“Don’t act like you’re not,” Nesta grumbled, looking out the back window, where a newly fallen blanket of snow covered the yard.

“You’re going to make us all go outside and build a snowman, aren’t you,” Cassian muttered, as the alarm for the oven went off.

Nesta chuckled, pulling them out and turning the oven off. “Of course, I am. I didn’t buy Nyx that little snowsuit for nothing.”

After a quick bite to eat around the table, they were cuddled up together in the living room, by the tree. Nyx looked up at the strung lights in wonder as Cassian took out the first gift and slid it toward him.

“Go ahead, buddy, the first one is yours,” Cassian said.

Nyx blinked at the box before starting to hit it with his little fists.

Cassian snorted. “Well, at least it’s not breakable.”

They opened Nyx’s presents for him one by one and once he was sufficiently distracted with a brand new set of brightly colored blocks, stacking them up and knocking them down, giggles filling the room, Cassian and Nesta moved onto their own presents.

There were, of course, the generic things that they both expected from each other. Cassian gave her an entire new set of utensils for the kitchen, a wine and cheese subscription box for the year and a cookbook full of desserts he’d seen her eye for more than a few months.

She gave him a set of woodcarving tools, a new pair of boots, and a year-long membership to the new, fancy gym they had just built down the block that he had been eyeing every time they drove past it.

“Thank you,” he smiled. “I love it.”

“Of course,” she said, and kissed him, softly. “Now, let’s go build a snowman!”

“Wait,” Cassian called, even though she was already on her feet, heading toward the staircase. “You forgot one.”

There was no way she could have seen it.

It was tiny, and nearly blended into the tree skirt.

Nesta knew one thing for sure - she hadn’t put that one under the tree last night.

“Nyx, come here,” Cassian said, holding out his hand.

Nyx giggled, picking up his blocks to take with him, as he walked across the rug to Cassian.

Cassian handed him the little box. “Here. Bring mama her present.”

The words alone were so cute that Nesta couldn’t help but smile. She sat on the couch as Nyx waddled up to her, his blocks in one hand, her gift in the other.

“Thank you, buddy,” she said, laughing quietly as Nyx went back to playing with his blocks. Nesta slowly undid the bow on the top of the box, and tore off the wrapping paper.

She was left with a small, black velvet box.

Her heart stopped beating in her chest. She couldn’t breathe, nearly forgot how to move, as she looked at the velvet box in her hand. Her thumb brushed over the soft fabric. “Cassian…”

“Open it, Nes,” he whispered, and she could hear the smile on his face.

She opened the box and fought the quiet gasp as she gazed at the beautiful ring inside.

A brilliant, cushion-cut diamond was nestled in the center of a ring of diamonds, and in the colorful lights of the Christmas tree, it sparkled.

She repeated herself, not quite remembering how to speak. “Cass…”

He gently took the box from her hand and slid from the couch, settling down on one knee.

“I know we haven’t had the most conventional relationship, but who we are, where we came from, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. This past year has simultaneously been the best and worst of my life. I lost my best friend, my entire world got turned upside down, but…” He took her hand in his. “I have the family I never imagined I would. I love Nyx. I can’t imagine a day without him now. Or a single minute without you, Nesta. I love you and I want to spend every day of the rest of my life reminding you of that.”

She was crying.

She didn’t know when the tears had begun, but they were streaming freely down her cheeks.

“Nesta,” he breathed, his voice a ragged mess. “Nesta, will you marry me?”

“Yes.” She had begun saying the word before he had even finished his question. “Yes, Cassian, absolutely, yes.”

Cassian was pulling her toward him, kissing her without a care in the world. She laughed as their lips met, an unworldly amount of joy flooding throughout her body. They kissed, and Nyx laughed, and Cassian slid the ring onto her finger.

His fiancée.

His future wife.

He wasn’t sure how exactly he had gotten here, wasn’t sure how either of them had survived the past year, but somehow, they had. And they’d done it together.

It was a situation that could have damned them, that could have destroyed them both. There had been hard times, but the good far outweighed the bad. Just like he knew the future would as well.

Nesta awoke with a pounding headache and the need to vomit, even though she was fully aware her stomach was completely emptied out. She began to shift on the mattress, but froze when she realized that a heavy arm was draped across her waist.

Behind her, Cassian was sleeping soundly, spooned up against her.

Stay.

She remembered asking that of him the night before, remembered everything from the night before.

She had been drunk, horribly drunk.

They had fought.

She had tried to sleep with him.

She had vomited all over the kitchen.

He had cleaned it up.

He had cleaned her up.

He had carried her to bed.

He had stayed.

She hadn’t deserved for him to stay.

Carefully and slowly, Nesta took Cassian’s hand and removed it from her body before dragging herself quietly out of the bed and sneaking out of the room.

She had been so fucking irresponsible the night before, shouldn’t have ever tried to drive here, yet here she was. No wonder Cassian had been so pissed.

She planned on getting a quick cup of coffee to settle her stomach and sneaking out, but as she found Elain in the kitchen, she knew that was no longer possible.

Her sister, never one for anger, raised an eyebrow. “You owe me for my landscaping.”

Nesta cringed and dropped into a seat at the end of the table. Her head fell into her hands with a smack. “I know, I’m sorry.”

A cup of coffee appeared in front of her and Nesta did nothing but breathe in the life-changing scent for a minute, her forehead still pressed into her hand.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Elain said, leaning against the counter. “I love having you here. But as far as I knew, Cassian was staying here because you were at the house. Imagine my surprise when I find both of your vehicles in my driveway this morning.”

Nesta cringed, yet again.

“And the bush by my mailbox flattened,” Elain added, sipping from her steaming mug.

Nesta groaned, her head falling against the tabletop. “I fucked up, I get it.” There was no malice in her voice, only exhaustion.

The chair across from her was pulled out and Elain sat down with a sigh. “You know I’m not letting you leave until we talk about this, right?”

Nesta huffed. “Talk about what?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Elain sighed. “The fact that you showed up at my house at midnight, drunker than you’ve been since college, to fight with Cassian?”

Nesta looked up at her.

“At least, that’s my husband’s version,” Elain said, watching her sister. “Correct me if I’m wrong.”

Nesta leaned back in her chair and shook her head, slowly. She fiddled with the fabric around her thighs, only now realizing that she was in Cassian’s shirt.

He had taken her dirty dress off and replaced it with something clean, something of his.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” Nesta said, simply.

“How about promising me you’ll never be stupid enough to get behind the wheel while drunk again?” Elain asked, a slight edge to her voice. “The last thing I need is you getting in an-.”

Her words dropped off and she shook her head, sipping from her mug to avoid the word that Nesta knew was meant to come next.

Accident.

A newfound guilt flooded Nesta’s stomach. She felt like she was going to puke all over again. How could she do that, after all that had happened? After what had happened to Feyre and Rhysand?

“I fucked up,” she said, again, and leaned across the table to take Elain’s hand. “I was drunk, I made a poor decision in the heat of the moment because I was pissed, and I was irresponsible. I know that, and trust me, I am full of regret and feel like a fucking idiot this morning. I promise, Lainy, that I’ll never make that mistake again.”

Elain looked at her for a moment before her eyes softened and she nodded. “Good. I believe you. Now, care to tell me why you made such a dumbass decision to begin with?”

Dumbass. Elain rarely swore.

“Cassian and I had sex in the store room last night,” she sighed, not looking at Elain.

“You what?” Her voice raised an octave.

“Shh,” she said, glancing around her to the living room beyond. “I don’t know how exactly it happened, but it did. I went in there for some air, he followed me, and we got into it. Next thing I know, my back is against the far wall, he’s buried inside of me, and I’m halfway to an earth shattering orgasm.”

Elain had stilled, her mug midway to her lips as she stared at her sister. She repeated, “You what?”

“I don’t need a lecture if that’s what you’re building up to,” Nesta snapped.

Elain sighed, setting her mug down on the table. “It’s either a lecture or silence.”

Nesta just shook her head.

“Nesta, that man is madly in love with you,” Elain said, lecturing, anyway. Nesta stared at the table. “And you love him, too. This…unhealthy need to push everything and everyone away that makes you happy is going to make you nothing but miserable in the end and, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to let you be miserable.”

Nesta shook her head. “Feyre wouldn’t want—.”

“No,” Elain interrupted, her voice going harder than Nesta typically heard it. “Feyre would want you to be happy. She’s gone, Nesta.” Her eyes lined with tears as she reached across the table and took Nesta’s hands. “She’s gone, and yes, maybe that’s the only reason that you and Cassian ended up together, but you know what? Maybe it’s not. Maybe you and Cass would’ve ended up together at another time, another place, but you didn’t. This is how it happened. And Feyre, wherever she is, is so damn happy that you two are happy. She wanted you two to be together five years ago, and she wants you to be together now, if he’s who makes you happy. You can’t feel guilty, Nesta. Your happiness does not deserve guilt.”

Nesta said nothing, didn’t bother wiping the tear that fell down her cheek.

“You love him,” Elain said, and it wasn’t a question.

Which meant that Nesta didn’t answer.

“He cleaned up your puke and carried you to bed after you treated him like garbage,” Elain said, her voice lightening. “Men like that don’t just come around, Nes.”

A door opened and closed from the back of the house and Elain picked up her coffee, standing.

“Where are you going?” Nesta whispered, her eyes going wide.

“You need to talk to him,” Elain said, heading for the living room. She didn’t say another word to her sister, but she heard her start up the stairs. “Good morning, Cass. And good morning to you, sweet boy.”

She didn’t hear a response from either of them, so she assumed Nyx was still dozing on Cassian’s shoulder, but Elain’s soft footsteps retreated up the stairs.

“Morning.”

She turned to find Cassian leaning against the doorway. Nyx, indeed, was still near sleeping where he had his head resting against Cassian, holding onto his shirt.

Clutching her coffee cup, Nesta breathed, “Good morning.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked, walking to the fridge and opening the door, pulling out a jug of orange juice.

“Honestly?” she muttered. “Shitty.”

Cassian snorted. “I’d say so.”

Silence ensued, and Cassian kissed Nyx’s forehead as he handed him to Nesta. “I’ll get him some breakfast.”

Nesta nodded, taking the sleepy baby and letting his head fall against her chest.

Cassian got oatmeal out of the pantry and mixed it with some milk before cutting strawberries into small squares. The entire time, Nesta watched him. The entire time, Cassian didn’t say a thing.

She could see the way his back muscles flexed through his old, white t-shirt.

It made her weak in the knees.

“Dada,” Nyx said, arm outstretched to Cassian.

“Almost ready, buddy,” he promised.

As Cassian walked toward the table, Nesta put Nyx in the highchair. She’d move him once Seph was awake and ready to eat. She had a feeling Nyx would be finished long before that, though, because the second Cassian sat the bowl on the tray, Nyx’s hands were covered in oatmeal.

Cassian chuckled and retreated back away from the table.

Nesta cleared her throat. “Cass?”

“Hmmm?”

“I-,” she hesitated, and sighed. “Thank you. For last night. I’m… I’m sorry, I was completely out of line-.”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

“It’s not fine.” He still hadn’t turned back to look at her. “It’s not, at all. What I did last night was stupid and irresponsible and selfish. And you took care of me and I didn’t deserve it. So… Thank you and I’m sorry.”

He was quiet for another minute, pouring a cup of coffee alongside his juice. “You’re welcome. Like I said, it’s fine. It happened, you recognize it was a dumbass decision to make. Just don’t make it again.”

She nodded, though he still couldn’t see her, since he still had his back to her.

Nesta asked, “Can we… Can we talk about last night?”

“I don’t know what there is to talk about, Nes,” he sighed, finally turning to look at her. He leaned back against the counter. “Before or after you showed up drunk?”

“Both,” she stood up and crossed the kitchen toward him. She suddenly remembered she was wearing nothing but his t-shirt. “Like I said, I was way out of line.”

Cassian watched her for a moment before letting out a breath, his shoulders sagging. “Yeah, well… The store room was just as much me as it was you, so don’t apologize for that one.”

Nesta nodded, and looked over at Nyx, stuffing his face. “Do you regret it?”

A beat passed. “The store room?”

She nodded.

Cassian drank from his glass. “Do you?”

I asked you first, she wanted to say, but didn’t. Instead, she said, “It was unprofessional.”

“That’s not an answer,” he said.

“Neither is refusing to answer the question at all,” Nesta pointed out.

Cassian snorted. “Fair.”

They fell into silence, yet again, the only sounds coming from Nyx and his excitement about food.

“Is that all you have to say this morning?” Cassian asked, and she knew he was looking at her, so her eyes remained on the floor.

“I apologized,” she said. “I thanked you. What else is there to say?”

Cassian nodded, apparently that was answer enough for him. “Alright, well, Viv is planning on meeting you and Nyx back at the house at noon. I’ll see you at work.”

He turned his back to her and started walking out of the kitchen.

“Wait,” Nesta breathed, making her way toward him. “There is one more thing I’d like to say, like to ask.”

Cassian stopped and slowly turned to face her.

It was all too familiar. Him, in his sweatpants and old tee. Her, in his shirt, after a night spent cuddled up together.

Even if the night before had been under completely different circumstances.

She cleared her throat. “I think you should come back home, Cass.”

He searched her eyes, searched for the underlying meaning. “Why?”

“Because Nyx misses you,” Nesta said, without missing a beat. “He misses seeing you everyday.”

“Is he the only one?” Cassian asked, taking a step toward her.

“Cassian,” she breathed, shaking her head.

He nodded, slowly, taking a deep breath. “That’s what I thought.”

He turned around, but Nesta reached out for him. “Cassian, please, just come back-.”

“I can’t,” he said, quietly. “I can’t be there, every day, seeing you, and not being able to do something as simple as give you a hug, Nes. I can’t be there and pretend like things are fine, and that I’m not completely miserable. I can’t. I can’t do that. I’m not ready for that.”

The brush of her fingers against his arm felt like a brand and it took everything in him not to rip it from her grasp.

“I’m going to get ready,” he said, as calmly as he could. “I’ll see you at work. Viv will be there at noon to watch him.”

Her fingers fell away as he stepped out of reach and walked back through the living room and down the hall. As always, he never slammed the door. He never let his anger get the best of him. She heard it shut with a soft click.

“Mama?”

Nesta whirled, her eyes falling on Nyx. He was a sticky mess, oatmeal and smashed strawberries all over his hands and cheeks, but he was looking right at her. “Mama,” he repeated, holding out the empty bowl for her. As if he was saying, all done.

She gave him the best smile she could muster, before crossing the room and taking the bowl from him. “Thank you, sweet boy.”

A few minutes later, she’d left the bowl soaking in the sink, had wiped him down as best she could and had nabbed a pair of leggings from Elain’s clean laundry. She didn’t want to have to interrupt Cassian to ask about her dirty dress.

Without another word to anyone, she packed Nyx up in the car and was gone, heading for home. A few minutes later, she pulled in the driveway, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that something was missing.

Without that stupid truck parked next to her car, it didn’t feel quite like home. Going inside and not finding a game on the TV, or the smell of bacon cooking this early, it didn’t feel like home.

Without Cassian there, nothing did.