Julle

"Still fighting?" he mused, swirling his wine. "How tragic. How utterly predictable."

Kyrah spat blood onto the floor, her breath ragged, but she bared her teeth in a savage grin. "Enjoy the sight while you can, because when I crawl out of that Cauldron, I’m going to burn your court to the ground."

The King of Hybern chuckled, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something uncertain.

The soldiers did not hesitate. They heaved her forward, dragging her across the last stretch of stone, and then—

Cold air rushed past her as they threw her in.

The world tipped.

She fell.

It was not like sinking into water.

Water could be fought. Could be swum through, could be escaped.

This was something else. This was endless.

She plunged into the abyss, her body weightless, her limbs useless. The silence pressed into her ears, into her skull. No sound. No pain. No past. No future.

Just nothing.

And for the first time in her life, Kyrah felt peace.

No aching muscles. No weight of a body that would not move as it once did. No battle waiting to be fought.

She closed her eyes. Let it take her. Let it wrap around her like a long-forgotten lullaby.

But then—

A voice.

It was not soft. It was not kind. It was raw, guttural, echoing from the very marrow of the universe.

What do you want?

The question slithered through her mind, threading through every memory, every wound.

It could give. It could take. It could make her whole, or it could unmake her entirely.

Kyrah's fingers curled.

And she whispered, "Give me fire. Black. Dark. Fire. Quiet but deadly."

Silence.

Then—

Pain.

Agony, raw and scorching, seared through her veins. It ignited in her bones, burned through her blood, through her spine, setting her entire being aflame. It ripped through her back, her legs, her lungs, reshaping her, tearing her apart only to stitch her back together with something new, something ancient.

Her body convulsed, her breath stolen. She tried to scream, but the darkness swallowed the sound.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, the Cauldron spat her out.

She landed hard on the stone floor, gasping, shaking. The cold bit into her skin, her fingers trembling as she pressed her palms into the ground. The silence in the throne room was deafening.

She could feel them all staring.

Kyrah lifted her head, the scent of fear thick in the air.

Then she pushed herself up.

Onto her feet.

For the first time since that night, since the war hammer cracked her spine and left her broken on a battlefield—she stood.

Gasps rang through the chamber. The soldiers staggered back. The High Lord’s goblet slipped from his fingers, wine spilling like blood onto the stone.

Kyrah did not falter.

Power coiled beneath her skin, dark and waiting. The air felt different now, bending, whispering around her.

She took a step forward.

The world did not end.

She took another.

The fear in the room was a tangible thing now, pulsing, growing, feeding the fire inside her.

Then her gaze landed on him.

Azriel.

He was on his knees, his body broken. Blood pooled beneath him, seeping into the cracks in the stone. His wings—his wings—were in ruins, the membranes torn, shredded beyond recognition. His face was pale, his breaths shallow, but his hazel eyes found hers.

For a moment, he only stared.

As if he could not believe what he was seeing.

As if she were something out of a myth, something impossible.

Her heart thundered in her chest.

A slow, seething rage coiled inside her, rising, growing, unfurling like a black flame in her ribs.

She turned back to the soldiers, to the King who still sat frozen on his throne.

She smiled.

It was not kind.

It was not warm.

It was the promise of vengeance.

Azriel's POV

Pain was a living thing, crawling through his body like poison.

Azriel lay on the cold stone floor, his breath shallow, his wings ruined. Blood pooled beneath him, seeping from gashes too deep to heal, his shredded wings little more than torn flesh and broken bone. He could barely move. Barely think past the agony that roared through him.

But he heard her.

Kyrah.

She screamed, a sound that cut through the chaos, through the blinding haze of his pain. He forced his head to lift, vision swimming, and he saw her.

Saw the way she fought, clawing at the soldiers who dragged her toward the Cauldron. Saw the raw defiance in her eyes, the way her nails raked their wrists, tearing deep enough to draw blood. They cursed, yanking her forward, but she did not stop. She kicked, twisted, fought as if the gods themselves had set her veins ablaze with fury.

She was magnificent.

The King of Hybern only chuckled from his throne, watching as if this was nothing more than entertainment. As if the female bleeding, screaming, fighting before him was not something holy, something unbreakable.

Azriel’s fingers twitched, but he was too weak to move. Too broken. He could do nothing as they dragged her closer, as they threw her forward—

And then she was gone.

The Cauldron swallowed her whole.

A roar clawed at his throat, but his voice was gone. His breath, his strength—gone.

He had failed her.

Failed to protect her, failed to stop this.

Failed.

The throne room was silent, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

Then—

The Cauldron shuddered.

The dark water rippled, thick and writhing. The air trembled, and a terrible, ancient energy coiled through the chamber. The King of Hybern leaned forward in his seat, lips parting, as if he, too, could feel the shift.

Azriel's vision blurred again. He fought to stay conscious, to keep watching, because something was happening.

Something was coming.

Then the Cauldron spat her out.

Kyrah landed hard on the stone, gasping for air, her hands braced against the floor. Steam curled from her skin, her hair hanging in wild tangles down her back.

But she did not tremble.

She did not fall.

She lifted her head, and Azriel swore his heart stopped beating.

And then—then—she pushed herself up.

Onto her feet.

The room went deathly silent.

A soldier took a step back. Someone whispered a curse.

The King’s goblet slipped from his fingers, wine splattering like blood across the floor.

Because Kyrah—Kyrah, who had spent so many years in that damned chair, who had been left broken—was standing.

Azriel’s breath caught, his body stilling, as if even the air itself had forgotten how to move.

And gods, gods, she was—

She was beautiful.

The raw power rippling from her skin, the dark fire curling around her fingertips, licking up her wrists in ribbons of black and violet—she was made of night and vengeance, of something far older, far stronger than anything he had ever known.

And his shadows—

His shadows, traitorous things, moved to her.

One slithered across the floor, wrapping itself around her wrist, twining with her black fire. Another curled around her waist, featherlight, as if greeting her.

As if recognizing her as their own.

Azriel could not look away.

Could not breathe, could not think, as she took a single, steady step forward.

Then another.

The fear in the room thickened, choking the air. The King of Hybern stiffened, his hands gripping the arms of his throne, as if realizing—too late—what had just been unleashed.

Kyrah turned toward him, toward the soldiers who had thrown her into the Cauldron, and she smiled.

It was not soft.

It was not kind.

The door opened before he could knock, and Elaine stood there, her golden-brown eyes warm but curious. “Feyre told us you were coming.” Her voice was gentle, like a breeze on a spring morning.

Azriel inclined his head. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

A small smile tugged at Elaine’s lips. “That depends,” she said, stepping aside to let him in. “Nesta is in a mood.”

Azriel let out a breath of something close to amusement. He had heard of Feyre's eldest sister, Nesta, from both Feyre and Cassian. A force of nature. Fierce, unyielding. But there was another sister—Nesta’s twin—whom he had yet to meet.

As he stepped into the house, warmth wrapped around him. The scent of freshly baked bread and spiced tea filled the air. The crackling fireplace cast golden light across the room, illuminating the space where the three Archeron sisters sat.

Nesta, as expected, was leaning back in an armchair, her stormy blue eyes assessing him with a look that would make lesser men wither. Feyre was beside her, lips twitching in amusement, but his attention faltered when his gaze landed on the woman sitting across from them.

The twin sister.

She was striking—not in the delicate, ethereal way Elaine was, nor in the fierce, sharp beauty that Nesta possessed. No, there was something different about her. Strength coiled in every inch of her, despite the chair she sat in. Despite the way her spine no longer allowed her to stand tall.

Azriel’s shadows curled, restless. He did not stare out of pity. He did not stare because of the wheelchair. He stared because something in her presence demanded it.

Feyre noticing his attention, offered a soft introduction. “Azriel, this is Kyrah.”

Kyrah met his gaze, her chin tilting upward slightly, as if daring him to see her as fragile. “So, the infamous Shadowsinger,” she said, her voice low and smooth, lined with something that felt like quiet defiance.

Azriel inclined his head. “It’s an honour to meet you.”

Her eyes searched his, as if trying to gauge the truth in his words. And then, with a slow nod, she gestured to the seat opposite her. “Sit, then. Let’s see if you live up to the stories.”

It was Nesta who broke the silence. “You’re staring,” she pointed out bluntly.

A chuckle escaped from Feyre as she curled up beside Elaine, watching the exchange with open amusement. Azriel, used to being scrutinised in battle but not in living rooms, took the offered seat.

Azriel did not deny it. Instead, he looked to Kyrah. “I want to know,” he said quietly. “What happened.”

The room went still. Elaine glanced away. Feyre shifted uncomfortably. But Kyrah—Kyrah held his gaze. “You mean, why I’m in this chair?”

“Yes.”

Most people, he realised, would have flinched at his honesty. Most would have expected him to skirt around the topic, to offer empty platitudes. But Kyrah was not most people.

Her fingers traced the rim of the wheel absently before she spoke. “There was an attack. A surprise raid. We were outnumbered.” She exhaled sharply, a ghost of something flickering in her steel-grey eyes. “I knew we wouldn’t all make it out. So I did what I had to do.”

Azriel’s breath stilled.

Feyre's expression darkened. “She took on five soldiers alone while the rest of us escaped.”

Kyrah’s lips curved, but it was not a smile. “Three died before they realised I wasn’t going down easy.”

He did not need to ask what happened next. He could see it in the way her shoulders tensed, in the way Feyre's hands curled into fists at her sides.

Nesta’s voice was like steel. “The last one broke her spine. Left her to die.”

Kyrah let out a slow breath, as if recalling it piece by piece. “I remember the sound of steel in the dark. The way the air smelled of blood and fire. We had been hiding in an old farmhouse when they found us—mercenaries, probably hired to drag us back to our enemies in chains. They didn’t expect us to fight back.”

Azriel listened, saying nothing, letting her words paint the scene.

“We got split up,” Kyrah continued. “Feyre and Nesta took Elaine and ran, but I knew they wouldn’t make it far if the soldiers followed. So I stayed. I let them see me.” Her fingers tightened on the chair’s arms. “I made them think I was the only one left.”

Azriel knew that tactic. The bait. The sacrifice.

“They were good,” she admitted. “Better trained than I expected. But they underestimated me.” A sharp, humourless smile. “I killed the first two easily. The third was harder. By the time I got to the fourth, I was bleeding, and the fifth—” She paused, her breath evening out. “The fifth was smarter. Stronger. He caught me off-guard. I thought I’d killed him, but he wasn’t dead enough.”

A shadow passed over her face.

“He used a war hammer,” Feyre murmured, her voice low with something close to grief. “Brought it down across her back.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened. He had seen spines broken before. Had seen warriors reduced to nothing but agony and helplessness. But Kyrah… Kyrah had not been broken.

“I don’t remember much after that,” Kyrah admitted. “Just the pain. The cold. I thought I was dying. Maybe I should have.”

Feyre's expression darkened. “Don’t say that.”

Kyrah’s steel-grey eyes flickered, but she said nothing.

Azriel, however, saw the truth in her gaze. She had not just survived. She had endured. And not once, not even for a moment, had she let it break her.

“You don’t pity me.” Kyrah’s voice cut through his thoughts.

He met her gaze and let her see the truth. “No.”

She studied him for a moment longer before nodding. “Good.”

Something settled in the air between them. A quiet understanding. A shared recognition of what it meant to fight, to bleed, to survive.

Nesta scoffed, breaking the moment. “If you two are done with your staring contest, we were about to have tea.”

Azriel exhaled a short laugh. He had not expected this. The warmth. The banter. The way this family, despite everything, still found ways to hold each other together.

And as he looked at Kyrah again, at the fire in her eyes, he realised something else—he admired her. Not for her wounds, but for her strength. For the way she had faced the darkness and refused to break.

With an unwavering vision for Rosehall’s revival, Aelia had negotiated alliances and forged bonds with the remaining denizens of the court, aligning their aspirations with her own, much like the interplay of mauve-hued flowers interspersed among the verdant tapestry of the landscape. Together, they envisioned a haven reborn, a sanctuary restored to its former grandeur, adorned with a palette of rich, vibrant colours.

The dawn of a new chapter had arrived - a day suffused with promise and purpose. It was the day artisans, craftspeople, and skilled labourers assembled at the threshold of Rosehall, bearing their tools, their talents, and their dedication. Each stroke of a paintbrush, each meticulously placed brick, and every artisan’s touch promised a renaissance, an homage to the vibrant hues that adorned the Spring Court’s landscape.

As the sun ascended to its zenith, casting a golden glow upon the landscape tinged with the resplendent shades of red roses, sage greens, and mauve blooms, Rosehall stirred with anticipation. The air thrummed with a symphony of endeavour - a chorus of hammers striking, saws carving, and artisans meticulously crafting the foundations of a new beginning, blending hues and tones into a vibrant tapestry of renewal.

Amidst the whirlwind of activity, Aelia stood, a silent orchestrator, her gaze a reflection of unwavering determination and quiet pride. She observed the bustling courtyard with a mixture of anticipation and gratitude, knowing that each brick laid and each stroke of creativity was a testament to the kaleidoscope of colours that adorned the heart of the Spring Court.

The day wore on, and as dusk descended upon Rosehall, there emerged a transformation - a metamorphosis akin to a canvas awash with the myriad colours of a sunset. What once stood desolate and forlorn now radiated with newfound life—a testament to the vibrant hues and shades that intermingled, painting a portrait of resilience and rebirth in the Spring Court.

As the last rays of sunlight caressed the newly restored walls adorned with the rich red of freshly blossomed roses, the muted sage greens of restored wallpaper, and the soft mauve hues of meticulously tended flowers, Aelia’s heart swelled with a profound sense of fulfilment. Her journey, entwined with the destiny of Rosehall, had reached a crescendo - a testament not only to her unwavering resolve but also to the kaleidoscope of colours that brought life to the collective efforts of those who believed in the promise of renewal.

In the serene tranquility of the forest, where the dappled sunlight played amidst the verdant foliage, Aelia stood, enveloped by an uncanny sense of presence. Though she couldn't yet discern his figure among the shadows, the unmistakable aura of Tamlin lingered, a haunting echo amidst the rustling leaves and the subtle fragrance of earth and forest.

Her senses, finely attuned to the subtlest nuances of the natural world, detected his nearness long before her eyes could confirm his arrival. The whisper of his presence danced on the breeze, a blend of musk and the raw essence of the forest, weaving a tale of a visitor yet concealed.

Yet, there was more to this unspoken encounter than mere proximity. Aelia's instincts, honed by the essence of the land itself, hinted at a deeper truth - Tamlin remained cloaked in his beastly form. She could feel the thrum of his power, the restless energy that pervaded the air, and the lingering imprint of his transformation into the primal creature he had become.

As the moments stretched, anticipation hung heavy in the air, mingling with the subtle rustle of leaves and the symphony of the forest. Aelia's thoughts wove a tapestry of wonder, speculation veiled in curiosity. Would he, in the privacy of these enigmatic woods, cast off the guise of his beastly form before revealing himself to her, baring not only his true nature but also the vulnerabilities it entailed?

The minutes ebbed and flowed like the gentle rhythm of the forest, a silent witness to the unspoken dance of anticipation between two beings, connected by fate and tethered by the intricate threads of their shared existence within this realm.

And then, with a delicate shift in the air and a subtle alteration in the tenor of the forest's symphony, Aelia sensed the imminent change - a transformation stirring in the shadows, a metamorphosis poised to unfold. The air seemed to shimmer with the anticipation of an impending revelation, a moment of profound significance poised on the edge of existence.

A rustle among the leaves, a fleeting whisper of movement, heralded Tamlin's approach. As the shadows parted and the last rays of sunlight painted a mosaic upon the forest floor, a figure emerged—a silhouette bathed in the fading light, a form transitioning from beast to Fae.

Aelia, her heart attuned to the symphony of nature, witnessed the transformation unfold - a testament to the interplay between primal instincts and the essence of the Fae. Tamlin stood before her, his figure now adorned in the elegance and grace of his Fae being, the remnants of his earlier beastly form fading into the ether.

Their eyes met, a silent acknowledgment passing between them - an unspoken understanding that transcended the barriers of form and appearance. In this fleeting moment of transformation, amidst the hallowed embrace of the forest, a delicate equilibrium had been restored, and a profound connection forged between two entities, bound by destiny and the enigmatic dance of the natural world.

From the towering edifice of Rosehall, bathed in the fading hues of twilight, Aelia’s gaze traversed the expanse of the grounds, drawn toward the figure that emerged from the shadows - Tamlin, the enigmatic presence whose emerald green eyes held untold depths, a reflection of the intricate complexities that defined him.

Their meeting, amidst the tranquil splendour of the evening, held an air of unexpectedness—an unscripted encounter between two souls, each grappling with the weight of their own burdens. As Aelia’s scarlet locks danced in the gentle evening breeze, she locked eyes with Tamlin, a silent acknowledgment passing between them - a brief moment of connection before her attention returned to the expanse before her.

“I didn’t think you would make an appearance,” she ventured, her voice carrying a mixture of curiosity and a tinge of relief, breaking the contemplative silence that hung between them.

“Me neither,” Tamlin responded, his tone carrying an unspoken weight, a tacit understanding of the uncertainties that lingered between the realms of expectation and reality.

“The workers have gone home,” Aelia observed, her words laden with a quiet understanding. She sensed the reluctance in Tamlin, the hesitance to confront the inhabitants of his Court, a trust shattered and a bond fractured. The task ahead of rebuilding trust, of rekindling the fragile flames of allegiance between High Lord and his people, loomed like a daunting horizon - a slow, arduous journey that demanded patience, dedication, and unwavering commitment.

Aelia, her heart a wellspring of determination, knew the weight of responsibility that rested upon her shoulders - a commitment to the revitalisation of Rosehall, the resuscitation of the Spring Court’s spirit, and the restoration of trust that formed the foundation of Tamlin’s reign. Yet, intertwined with her fervent aspirations was a hopeful yearning, a silent plea that Tamlin too would share in this endeavour, that he too harboured the same steadfast commitment to mend what had been fractured.

As the evening breeze carried the whispers of the surrounding woods, a fragile pause hung between them - an interlude pregnant with unspoken hopes and lingering uncertainties. Aelia, with her fiery locks cascading in the evening wind, turned her gaze once more to Tamlin, her eyes a mirror reflecting a blend of determination, hope, and a silent plea for solidarity in the tumultuous journey that lay ahead.

In that ephemeral moment, amidst the quietude of the twilight, the unspoken pact between Aelia and Tamlin resonated—a vow unspoken yet understood, a shared commitment to navigate the labyrinthine path toward redemption, trust, and the rekindling of the Spring Court’s fading splendour.

In the gentle embrace of dusk, amidst the fading hues of twilight, Aelia took a resolute step forward, her heart resonating with the weight of responsibility, determination, and an unyielding sense of belonging. With each deliberate stride, she traversed the grounds of Rosehall - a sanctuary that had become, over the span of a year, more than just a mere abode; it had transformed into her haven, her cherished refuge within the embrace of the Spring Court's verdant embrace.

For Aelia, the Spring Court was not merely a dwelling; it was a repository of memories woven into the fabric of her being, a sanctuary that offered solace, purpose, and a sense of belonging - something the distant and elusive Night Court could never provide.

In her wake, Tamlin followed - a silent shadow amid the fading light, a figure wrought with uncertainty and hesitation. His careful steps echoed the weight of his emotions, a tapestry woven with threads of caution, insecurity, and the lingering spectres of a court ravaged by the tempestuous actions of the past.

As Tamlin trailed behind her, his conflicted emotions swirling like a tempest within, the sight that greeted him - the remnants of his once majestic court, scarred and marred by Feyre's devastating actions - stirred a maelstrom of rage, anger, and the profound ache of disappointment. The wounds inflicted upon his beloved domain were a testament to a past fraught with turmoil and shattered trust, a legacy he struggled to reconcile with the hopes of restoration.

Aelia, attuned to the tumult roiling within Tamlin's conflicted soul, sensed the tempest brewing just beneath the surface. As she felt the weight of his emotions, a torrent of unspoken turmoil threatening to engulf them both, she halted her steps, turning to face the tormented High Lord.

"I am here," she declared, her voice a steadfast beacon amid the brewing storm of emotions. With an outstretched hand, she bridged the gap between them, intertwining her fingers with his - a gesture laden with reassurance, solidarity, and a shared determination to navigate the daunting path of rebuilding what had been torn asunder.

In that poignant moment, amidst the ruins of Rosehall and the fading light of day, Aelia's gesture spoke volumes - a promise of unwavering support, an unspoken pledge to stand shoulder to shoulder with Tamlin in the endeavour to breathe life anew into their shared home.

“Poems.” “You do?” I sit up and hover myself further up to him. My head now lying on his shoulder. “You never told me.” “I used to write a lot when I was younger. My father disliked it. It isn’t ‘high Lord like’ to write poems and play the fiddle.” “Thankfully now you are the High Lord and make the decisions about these things.” I kiss him on the cheek before I shyly ask: “Would you- would you mind reading one to me?”

Tamlin looks down at me, kisses my forehead and replies: “It’s not finished yet. It’s only a few lines.” “That’s fine. I’m sure I’ll love it nonetheless.”

Your love brought waves of joy That sent my sorrows on the flow out and away. Your love is the pen and My heart is the page.

“That… that is so beautiful.”

“You really think so?” His brows furrow in question. I sit up straight, put my hand on his cheek and kiss him. In between kisses all I can bring out is a “Yes. Yes I do.”

The kiss deepens, becomes more passionate. Fuelled with desire and longing. Tamlin has discarded his book and pen on his bed night table and his hands start to roam over my body. From my arms, down to my hand, the curve of my breasts, my waist. I lay my hand on his chest, drawing tiny pictures on his muscles with my finger. I put one of my legs around his hips to pull myself closer to him. That’s when I notice how hard he already is. When my thigh touches his cock, he pulls away slightly as to not scare me away. But I just pull him back in closer. Tamlin breaks the kiss. I’m confused at his action, so I look questioning at him.

“Are you sure?” I nod. “More than anything.”

We once already came close to having sexual intercourse. Back then he didn’t know that I am a virgin. I explained everything to him. He listened. Taking everything in. When he then said that he’s going to wait for when I’m ready, made me love him even more. I know it has not been easy for Tamlin to not be intimate the way he likes to, but he would never pressure me into doing something I’m not fully comfortable with. 

Our lips and tongues connect once again. I bury my hands in his hair. Afraid he could just vanish. With one swift move he pulls me underneath him. Still kissing. Never breaking. He starts kissing a trail down from my lips, to my cheeks, jaw, neck. The sensitive part directly under my ear lobe, at which a moan escapes my mouth.

Tamlin only shortly breaks the contact, saying: “If you want me to stop at any point, tell me.” All I can do is nod, the sensation in my body way too overpowering for me to bring any coherent thoughts or words out of my mouth. He continues his trail of kisses down my body. Gently sucking on my collarbone before he rips my night shirt apart and finally reaches my breasts. My nipples hardened. Sensitive to his touch. As he takes one of my nipples into his mouth he starts sucking and biting the bud, I can’t help but moan loudly at the sensation. His other hand squeezes my other breast, then rolling the nipple around with his fingers. Instinctively I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him even closer. So close his cock touches my absolutely soaked night panties. As he inches closer to my throbbing core, I feel how hard he really is. My core aching just to get some type of friction from him.

“Not yet.” He says after releasing my nipple with a pop. “So gorgeous. So perfect.” His words make my cunt clench around nothing.

He kisses further and further down my body, until he reaches my intimate parts.

“Can I?” Tamlin asks for my consent. “Yes! Yes, please.” I nearly don’t have enough breath left to even get those words out. He removes my night panties and at the sight of my dripping cunt his eyes widen. He licks his lips and bites his lower lips with his canines, sucking it into his mouth.

His head dips down to my cunt and he licks a long stripe through my wet folds. The sensation has my back arching and I let out a moan. For better access he spreads my legs open even wider and puts his hands under my ass, grabbing tightly but not painfully. Tamlin continues to lick my clit, his head totally and entirely buried in my heat. The sounds, moans and growls coming from him are obscene. Although I can’t deny they turn me on even more. He dips his tongue into me and I automatically clench around him, hips begging him to go even further. I feel a string in my belly being tightened, just waiting to be snapped. I won’t be able to take this pleasure much longer before I explode; all thanks to Tamlin eating me out like the starved male that he is. When he gently pushes one of his fingers into me, I feel how my arousal is just dripping out of me.

“Gods, you’re so wet. You smell intoxicating. You taste divine.”

He carefully enters a second finger, pumping it inside of me. It reaches spots within me I didn’t even know existed. Tamlin starts speeding up as my thighs start clenching around his head. His thumb now presses against my clit, watching my hips buck up slightly at the friction. Tamlin licks his bottom lip in need, taking his thumb and pressing it against his tongue and wetting it before going back to rub my clit gently. I groan out at this, as waves of pleasure spread through my cunt, core and entire body. I know I can’t take it much longer. My body begging for release. Tamlin continues to thrust his fingers in and out of me, all while changing in between sucking my clit and rubbing it. I’m unable to hold back anymore. My back arches, my hips thrusting closer into Tamlin, begging for him. He doesn’t stop his assault on my cunt and clit as my orgasm explodes throughout my body. With a loud scream of his name, accompanied with loud moans I cum on his tongue. He drinks me empty. Each and every drop of my release and licks me through my orgasm. When I come down from my high I’m nearly breathless, my heart thundering.  Tamlin licks one last long stripe along my cunt before coming up to me. Face to face. Kissing me. I can taste myself on his lips and within an instant I’m even wetter than before.

“Tam…” I say out of breath. “I know, my light, I know.” He places a kiss on my forehead,  “I want to feel you. All of you. I want more this time.” “Are you sure about that?”

I wrap my arms around his waist, nuzzling into the crock of his neck, leaving kisses and light sucks.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. I want you, Tam. I want to experience my very first time with you.”

I know how much this means to him. Not to take my virginity but me being the one to trust him. To trust him with my everything. I haven’t told him yet how I feel about him, truly feel about him, as each and every day I’m falling more and more in love with him. At this point I can’t imagine a life without him anymore.

Before I can even register what’s going on he removes his night shorts. It’s not like as I’ve never seen him naked, in fact since the night I woke him up from his nightmare I see him naked every night. But this… This is different. His cock is huge. Although, admittedly I’ve never seen a cock in its natural habitat. I can only assume that human men aren’t that gifted. His cock is not only huge, but thick. And red. Painfully red. Leaking with pre-cum.

“If, at any point you want me to stop…” “I will let you know.” “In case you cannot talk”, a mischievous smile on his face, “tap anywhere on my body thrice.”

My heart is thundering. In all my years as a human no male has ever even looked at me. The disabled being that I was. I knew my sisters were doing it, especially Feyre when she came back from the village. Her hair a mess. Her cheeks all rosy. Even after being turned Fae I never even touched myself. When the other females talked about wingspan, I had no idea what they were talking about. Well, now I know. I’m visibly shaking, too much going on in my head. In my body. The anticipation getting the better of me.

“Aelia, are you alright? We can stop now.” “I’m afraid. Will it hurt?”

Tamlin, still lying on top of me with his entire weight, looks at me, slowly wipes away a stray strand of my hair before saying: “Sex should never hurt. Unless it is for pleasure of course.” A mischievous grin spreading across his face. “As you have never done it before, I’m afraid to say it might hurt. And there might be some blood. So, if at any given point it gets too much, no matter the reason, please tell me. Can you do that, my light?”

I just nod at him. Wanting to bury my nose into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent.

Tamlin’s hand goes down to his crotch, never breaking eye contact with me. I can feel the tip of his cock between my wet folds. Wiping up and down. Collecting my slick. Making it easier for me to take him in.

I’ve got no idea where to put my hands. Do I grab the pillows? Do I wrap them around Tamlin? Do I grab his ass? Somehow I decide to put my arms above my head, grabbing the pillows there. Tamlin takes one of my hands in his and starts kissing me. I got no idea what happens next, all I know is that I’m being stretched and filled to the brim. Tamlin stops his movement every now and then, so I’m able to adjust to his size. Never breaking eye contact with me.

“You’re doing so well, my light.” 

I can’t deny that it hurts, but it doesn’t bother me. Tamlin is being gentle, so I guess the pain is because of his huge size and me being a virgin. All I know is that I couldn’t have asked for a better male to experience my first time with. He is all I’ve ever wanted and dreamt about. As soon as he is fully inside of me, he stops every movement and starts kissing me passionately. His hand goes down to my bum and he squeezes it slightly. 

“Let me know when you’re ready.” I cup his face, kiss him. Bite his lower lip a tiny bit and just reply: “Please Tamlin, please move.”

And he does. My entire world seems to collapse in that moment and starts to rebuild itself. I feel each and every thrust of him. Not able to concentrate on anything else while he bites my neck. Leaving a mark. Marking me as his. Gods, I want to be his for the rest of my immortal life. 

“Tam, please move faster. I want to feel you even more.” “You sure?” His face full of worry. “I am. More than anything.”

So he does.

“By the Cauldron, Tam,” I cry out as his powerful hips snap into me, first at a comfortable than at a relentless pace. The sheer look of pleasure and determination on his face makes me shudder as I watch him take me apart. Making me his. And only his. Instinctively my legs wrap around his waist, an impulse for more; to be closer, to be consumed.  His fingers start their sweet torture on my clit as he takes what he needs. With each fierce thrust he brings me closer, to my end, to his soul.  Unable to speak, I watch my perfect male lose himself inside of me. Just as I lose myself in him. It hits me like lightning striking my body, electrifying every nerve with blissful euphoria. I throw my head back as I hear my pulse ring in my ears, wet walls squeezing tight around his cock.  He groans out my name as his hips stuttered erratically. Pushing impossibly deeper and he comes hard. Shuddering his release, pumping himself empty inside his new favourite place. 

Collapsing on top of me, kissing me softly, all while he stays nestled inside of me. His green eyes connect with mine, his thumb dusting over my bottom lip. I tangle my hands into his hair, pull him closer, pressing my lips to his. Our tongues fight for dominance until I give in. I don’t care at this point. I just want to feel him. After a while we both break the kiss to breathe. Tamlin nozzles into the crook of my neck. His hands never leaving my body.

He places a kiss directly under my ear lobe and asks: “How do you feel? Are you alright? Did it hurt?” “I’m *yawn* fine. Exhausted, but…” I try to find the right word. “Electrified. I never ever want to leave this bed again.”

I can feel Tamlin chuckling lightly. I guess that’s the answer he’s been waiting for.

“It did hurt a bit, but nothing I can’t deal with.” “Just wait until you want to get up in the morning.”

I nudge him slightly in the chest. This male really is unbelievable.

“If that’s the case, you will carry me wherever I want to go.” “It’d be my pleasure, my light.”

He kisses me once more before removing himself from me. I can feel each and every inch sliding out of me and I feel so utterly empty now. Tamlin goes to the bathroom and gets out a wet flannel to clean us both up. Afterwards he snuggles into bed. Turning me onto my side so he can wrap his arms and legs around me. My hands roam up and down his back as his do the same. My head leaning against his chest, inhaling his very essence. 

One last time for tonight Tamlin kisses my forehead. I can feel how I slowly drift off to sleep. Nevertheless I can still make out the three words I never thought I’d hear:

I make my way up to Surprising View, and already the hike there is amazing. I just love being in the nature. It is a usually hot day and so I have to do a few more breaks than I intended to. I sit down by a small stream, take my flask out of my rucksack and take a big drink of water. This was so well needed. As I look around I can’t help but admire the beauty of the nature. Bees. Butterflies. Bugs. If I could I would move far far away, in the middle of nowhere. Just me, myself and I. But as I can’t, I’m enjoying moments like this even more.

After a while I get up and continue my way. When I finally arrive at Surprising View the view is literally taking my breath away. As it always does. No matter how often I come here. I already know where I want to sit down and have a break. Read a bit. Eat and drink something. On my way there I walk along all the trees until I reach a twin tree. Two trees grown together as they are so close together. I decide to walk straight through them. I’m even thinking about bringing a hammock the next time and putting it in between these two. It would make an amazing relaxing place for me. 

As soon as I step through the trees something feels off. I can still see my surroundings but they seem to be blurred out. It stills feels as I’m here, but somehow not. I blink once and all of a sudden I’m surrounded by forest. A different forest than it was on my way here. It’s quiet. Too quiet. I turn around to try to walk through the trees again, but they are gone. I must be dreaming. That’s the only explanation I’ve got. I hear some weird noises and it’s clear that this is definitely not a dream. I’m sweating even more. Not knowing where I am. Or what the hell is going on. I take my phone out of my pocket - no service. Of course. After a moment of contemplating I decide to make my way out of this forest. After about twenty minutes of walking I end up in an open clearing. In front of a small hill. Well, that’s a start. This at least means that somewhere around someone must live. At least I really hope so. I walk uphill and as soon as I’m standing a top, I see a huge villa? No, that’s too small for a villa. A castle? I’ve never seen a castle before, but I assume that by the size… It’s huge. Did I already say that?  I see something that looks like a street and decide to follow it towards the castle. I mean, what could possibly go wrong? As I approach the gates, which are golden, of course, I can finally hear other voices. My heart jumps in my chest at the prospect of help. I start going faster, making my way closer and closer to my current destination.

Just as I was about to walk through the gates, a huge white wolf appears in front of me. All I can see are his beautiful onyx coloured eyes. And for whatever reason I’m not even afraid of him. Do I like wolves? Yes. Do I even have a wolf tattoo all over my left arm? Also yes. Do I just want to get closer to him and snuggle myself into his fur? Fuck yes.

“Who are you?” 

Did- did the wolf just speak? I feel like getting dizzy. The world around me blurring. I can’t seem to concentrate on one point to calm myself down. That’s when I see the wolf turning into a human being. 

Next thing I know is me waking up in an unknown bed. As soon as I opened my eyes, I want to close them again. It’s just too bright in here. Protectively I put a hand over my eyes to let them adjust.  Even though my eyes don’t want to work, my eyes work perfectly. I can make out several voices. Men and women. 

“Who is she?” “Where does she come from?” “Why is she here? Have you had any letters, Aelin?” “No, I did not, Rowan. Did you?” “Where exactly did you find her, Fenrys?” “At the gates. She was just walking around. Trying to go through.” “I didn’t just try to walk through!” I spit. Not able to contain any of my emotions. I slowly open my eyes. I’m greeted with a women with blonde hair, dressed in, what I suppose, are training clothes. A man with white hair. His entire left side of his face covered in tattoos. And next to him…

“You are the wolf.” “You’re quite clever, little one, aren’t you?” “Well, I’m trying my best after being thrown into”, I point around at my surroundings, “this. Where am I even? And who are you?” “Why don’t you answer our questions first?” It was the wolf man speaking again. For fox’s sake! What are we playing here? Ringelpiez mit anfassen oder was? I roll my eyes and nod. “Who are you?” “Niamh.” “Of?” ”What do you mean of?” “Where are you from?”  “Lancaster. England. United Kingdom.” “Where on earth is that?”

I wondered if they really are that stupid or if they are Americans.

“In Europe. You know, the continent?”

All I see is them looking at me as if I’d be nuts.

“How did you get here?”

So I tell them the story. All three of them just look at me. Not able to say anything.  Until Aelin finally breaks the silence: “So you are telling us you came through a portal and that you’re from a different world?”

I nod.

“Do you remember where it was?” Asks Rowan.

“In the forest? When I turned around to go through it again, it was gone. Look, I’m really sorry to put of all you through this trouble. I will just get my things and leave. Thank you for your hospitality.” I make to get up, out of bed. I make my way over to my things and shoulder my rucksack. Just as I’m about to leave, Fenrys grabs me by my arm. I look up at him and once again am fascinated by his onyx eyes. They seem to draw me in closer. A feeling I’ve never felt before. He looks down my sleeve tattoo and his eyes stay at the wolf head. Then his eyes go up to mine again and he says “You’re staying.”

🐺

It has been nearly a year since I ended up in Orynth. Terrassen. Erilea. A world full of wonders. Fae. Demi-Fae. Fae warriors. Witches. Whatnot. Whenever she’s got time Aelin teaches me. So does Rowan. I met all of Aelin’s family and friends. Hence how I know about witches and all that kind of stuff. But the one that is constantly by my side - and in my mind - is Fenrys. He really helped me adapting to the situation. To settle into this new world. I can’t deny that I’ve grown close to him. It’s like… 

Something nudges me on my cheek before liking a big stripe down my face. I’m currently lying in the grass, enjoying the sunshine during this wonderful warm summer day. I open my eyes to see Fenrys sitting next to me. His white fur gleaming in the sun. A cocky smile on his face. I motion for him to lay down too, and as he does he puts his head on my chest. Demanding that I caress his head. This are the moments I enjoy the most. Just knowing that he’s here. 

“I had a child yesterday at work… Holy!” Fenrys looks up as to tell me to continue.  “They injured another child so badly, we had to call in a healer. Not to mention that their parents were more than just furious.” Once again Fenrys nudges me.  “I know it wasn’t my fault, I wasn’t even in the room when it happened. But I still feel responsible.”

A gleam of light indicates that Fenrys is turning back into his Fae form. Butt naked. I roll my eyes and take one of his underwear shorts out of my bag to throw it at him.

“Last night you had no problems seeing me naked.”  “Because you’re always naked. And you had a nightmare. Do you really think in that situation I only got eyes for your dick?” I raise an eyebrow, looking straight at him. He’s still holding his underpants in his hands. His abs beautifully sculptured. Muscles in all the right places. That sexy V-line going down his hips to his private area… I have to bite my lower lip not to act on some primal urge.

“Certainly you’ve got that now.” Fenrys replies with a wink. “Because he’s pointing straight at me.” His cock is standing in attention. I can’t deny that it isn’t a sight I don’t like to indulge in. But maybe not necessarily here in public.

“He likes you just as much as his owner.”

I can feel my cheeks blush. Fenrys and I - we are friends. He helped me to get acquainted with this new live and I help him with his nightmares. It wasn’t long after I first stepped foot into this world that I heard screaming throughout the castle. It came from Fenrys’s room. When I opened the door I knew what was going on. I woke him from his nightmare and held him, all night long. While he remained in his wolf form. And it’s been like that ever since. Sometimes I feel like Fenrys is like an older brother. On the other hand I can’t deny my feelings for him. I wouldn’t dare to act on my feelings. I’m too scared that once I allow myself to open up to him, I’ll vanish through a portal again. Never to see him again.

Reluctantly he puts his boxers on and starts: “Niamh, you know you’re an amazing teacher. It is not your fault that the other staff is incapable of handling children.” “But it would’ve come back to me. As head of the department.” He sits down and takes me into his arms. As soon as his familiar scent hits me, I start to relax. “Is anything going to happen now?” His head rests on top of mine. Kissing me briefly on my head. “I have to send my staff to a special training. And for the curse of two months there always has to be someone in the room supervising my staff. Means, if I need a toilet or go for my break or have to do other things, I first have to get cover.”  “But that’s impossible.” “I know. That’s why I already thought about wearing nappies again.”

Both Fenrys and I start laughing at that. I can feel his vibrations flowing through my body. Listening to his heartbeat, smelling and feeling him, making me feel safe. Lulling me into a peaceful twenty minute nap. When I wake up my head rests on his chest. His arm wrapped around me, as my arm wrapped around his waist. My legs tangled with his. I open my eyes slowly, looking up at him. His eyes are closed but I know he’s not sleeping. All I can do is admiring his beauty. His wonderful golden locks. His nose. Those lips. I always wonder if they are as soft as I imagine them to be. The twin scars on his face. During his sleepless nights he has told me nearly all the stories about the Cadre, Maeve, Aelin and Rowan, the Valgs, about the time Aelin was in an iron coffin and Fenrys stayed by her side in his wolf form, how he got his scars and his Gavriel tattoo. The only thing he doesn’t talk about often is his twin brother. And he never talks about what Maeve did to both of them, but especially Fenrys. Nevertheless I can feel his fear and disgust each and every time he dreams of her. And each and every time I wish I could take those memories away from him. To let him finally live freely. Without the shackles of his past. 

I don’t dare to move. Just relishing in the feeling of having him so close. I’m aware what we look like and I’m also aware of what the others think. I want to tell him how much I’ve fallen for him. How much I love him. But I can’t. The constant fear of being thrown back into my own world - always present. 

“I can hear you thinking.” “I’m sorry. I should better be going anyway.” “Don’t you like me as a pillow?” I can feel the smirk on his face. “No, Fenrys Moonbeam, I love you as my personal pillow very much, thank you. But I’ve got to get ready with the other. And so do you.”Fenrys lets out a huff. Tonight is the yearly summer ball. You can compare it to midsummer in our world. But as we live in a castle, it’s more extravagant, so to speak. I try to get up but Fenrys pulls me back in. Both his hands now resting on my hips. “Will you allow me to dance with you tonight, my lady?” A smile forming across my face as I reply: “Of course, my Prince Charming.”  Our faces are so close that my heart starts beating faster. If he would kiss me now, I wouldn’t find the strength in me to resists. But instead I pull away from him, get up, gather my things and bid him goodbye. 

The room is filled with laughter, perfume, alcohol and all of Aelin’s female friends and family. Most of them are already dressed and dolled up for later. I can’t deny it, but Aelin in her golden dress just looks breathtakingly beautiful. Next to her, in my plain black dress I more feel like I’m invisible. Which I don’t necessarily mind. Less attention.

“So, are you finally going to tell Fen what you truly feel for him?” Lysandra brings me back from my thoughts into the here and now. I shake my head.  “Why not?” It is Elise asking while she puts her long hair into a braid. “I’m not from this world. What if a portal opens and I just slip through. I’d loose him, I’d loose all of you forever. I- I just can’t.” “Oh Niamh.” Now it’s Aelin speaking. “I do not know how that must feel for you. All I know is how it feels to fear not to see your loved ones ever again. If you don’t act now, you’d might regret it in the future though. No matter what your future still got in store for you.” Aelin makes me think. By now I know all the stories about how they met each other. Aelin and Rowan. Lysandra and Aedion. Elide and Lorcan. Dorian and Manon.  Elide. Lorcan. Dorian. Manon. Those four names keep repeating in my head.  Two humans. One Demi-Fae. One Witch.  The longer I think about it, the scarier it gets. Even if I should be lucky to never return to my old life, I’ll die nonetheless. Fenrys is 144 years old. I’m 27. He will live for nearly forever. I’ll die in approximately 60 years. Already now I cannot imagine a life without him anymore. How is it going to be when we’ve lived so many decades together? I have to swallow hard as not to start crying. I want to enjoy this evening. I want to dance and eat and drink. I want to have fun with my friends. Who, by now, are more like a family. With one last deep breath I straighten myself, as to signalling that I am ready to go. All together we walk from our room, in which we got ready, to the main location. It is the ball hall in the castle. For this event it has been decorated beautifully with lots and lots of fae lights, candles and flowers everywhere. The outside area is also decorated. A white fabric tent in the middle of the garden, decorated with lots of, again, fae lights and candles. Fluffy cushions and blankets are laid across the floor, making it very inviting. Some chairs, daybeds and other very comfortable looking sitting (or lying down) options have been added all around the tent. Torches all around. Making everything look like in a fairytale. Being honest this is how I feel right now. Like being in the middle of a fairytale. 

As soon as we enter the hall all eyes are on us. Or maybe just on Aelin and her dress. Which again is absolutely gorgeous. Rowan is coming closer towards his wife, taking her into his and leading her to their thrones. 

“Thank you everyone for joining us this year. As you all know I’m not a huge fan of speeches, so let the party begin!” And with that the music starts, people start dancing. Children are running around. This is amazing. All of my friends have found their partners and are either dancing, eating or having conversations with others. I look around the room but cannot seem to find Fenrys. So I make my way to the drinks. Can’t say no to a nice glass of wine. As I’m standing on the edge of the dance floor I can feel a presence coming up behind me. Shortly after I can smell the so familiar scent of him - Fenrys. His arms wrap around my waist, his head resting on my shoulder.

“You look … you just look breathtakingly beautiful.” “I’d like to say the same, but unfortunately I can’t.” He knows what I mean and twirls me around so I can face him. My breath catches in my throat for a few long seconds. He’s wearing black leather pants, a black button up shirt that reveals his muscled chest. His hair hanging over his shoulder. His too well known smirk on his lips. “Do you like what you see? Take a picture of it so it lasts longer.” We both laugh at that little joke. After I arrived here I showed him my phone and took a picture of us. One of my fondest memories. “Would you like to dance?” He holds his hand open for me. I place my glass on the table before I take his hand. He then leads me onto the dance floor, apparently just in time for a slow dance. It is by no means the first time we’ve dance together, but somehow this feels different. We are so close to each other, I can feel his breath on my skin. His one hand rests on the small of my back, while his other is holding my hand. My other hand is slung around his shoulder. In swift moves Fenrys swirls us around the dance floor. I’m so totally and completely lost in the moment that all I can see is him. Unfortunately that’s also the moment I can feel my anxiety and panic raise. It is getting harder for me to breathe. I need to get out of here. Now. I untangle myself from Fenrys’s grip and as fast as my feet can carry me I run outside. I need fresh air. I need to be able to breathe again. I find somewhere where I can be on my own. I feel like drowning. Feel like suffocating. I have to remind myself of my breathing technique:

Breathe in Breathe out for four seconds Breathe in Breathe out for seven seconds Breathe in Breathe out for ten seconds

I do this until I can feel my heart slowing down again. Allowing me to breathe again. But not for too long. Once again he is standing behind me. Watching me. And I’ve got no fucking idea what to do. I can feel that he his getting closer. Now standing right behind me. He doesn’t reach for me. He is just there.

After a while he asks so silently it’s barely a whisper: “What are you afraid of?”

I don’t have it in me to turn around. My hands are balled into fists. Then relaxing. Fists again. After calming myself down and noticing that I started crying, I turn around and face him.

“I’m scared of losing you. I’m scared that one day a portal will open. That I’ll never see you again. I’m afraid that- that I fall for you even more than I already have. I’m scared that-“ I swallow, breathing out. “I’m scared that one day I will love you even more than I already do. Just to never see you again.” My tears are flowing freely over my eyes. I’m unable to stop crying. Fenrys cups my cheeks. Wiping some of the tears away. His forehead on mind. Our noses touching. “I’ve been falling for you the moment I saw you walking through those gates. Since that day a year ago I never wanted to spend a day without you by my side. I want to spend my life with you. And even if I get to only spend a day with you, it still will be the best of my life. Niamh, I love you.” “You- you mean that?” “Each and every word. After spending a hundred years under and with Maeve, I never thought that one day I’ll be able to find - you. To find love. To find someone I can open up to. Someone who- who will be there for me. Whenever I need you, you are there. You are the one guiding me through my night terrors. Never judging me. Never pushing me. Niamh, I’m so utterly and completely lost in you. I’d be a fool to let you go.”

My hands, which were resting on his chest, now grab his shirt and my lips crash onto his. Fenrys kisses me back and the kiss turns into something more than just passion. It’s longing. Desire. Happiness. Love. Future.

Fenrys’s hands move down my body. Exploring it in a way he’s never done before. When he reaches my thighs and cups them, I know he’s going to lift me up and I let him. My legs wrapping around his waist, my arms now wrapped around his head, tangled in his hair. First when neither of us can breathe anymore we part our lips.

“I love you, Fenrys.”

Once again our lips and tongues connect and I can feel something strange happening within my chest. I’m so confused that I stop kissing him. He notices and puts me down, without letting go of me.

“You are my mate.”

My eyes widen as his words leave his mouth. I’m his mate. Now everything makes sense. Why I felt so drawn to him. Why I had to think about him all the time. Why I just can’t fucking be without him. . 

“That is if you even want me as your mate.” “Oh Fen, don’t be ridiculous. Of course I don’t.” The way I say it he knows I’m playing with him. He scoops me up again and twirls us around. His laughter so warm and full of love. I don’t ever want to leave his arms ever again. I don’t ever not want to feel his lips on mine. I don’t ever want to leave this place.  I’ve got no idea how much time has passed. And being quite honest, I don’t care either. 

“Do you- do you want to go back inside?” I contemplate for a second before looking at him.  “Naaah, not really. But I’d like to test your claim of your indestructible bed.” “As you wish, my lady.”

“Yes, y/n Vanserra?” He picks me up and instinctively I wrap my legs around him. My arms going around his neck and grabbing his soft red curls in my hands. Bringing him closer into a kiss. 

In between kisses he speaks: “You are going nowhere today, my love.”

Totally dumbstruck I look at him. “What do you mean?” All I can do is stare at his beautiful face. Trying to figure out what on earth he’s talking about.

He slowly moves over to our bed, still carrying me in his arms. He then lays me down gently before hovering over me. His hair falling like curtains around my head. 

“You are staying home today.” He kisses the top of my nose. “I won’t let you celebrate your 210th birthday at work, wife.” He starts kissing down my neck while taking one of my peaked nipples into his finger and rolling it slowly. Ever so often pinching it slightly.

“Aaand what *moan* have you - oh my - planned?” 

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.” 

After our very surprising morning and the rather sweaty exercise we indulged in together, Lucien asks me to get dress. Nothing too fancy, something comfortable. He still doesn’t tell me where we’re going or what we’re going to do. So I decide on a blush pink coloured sun dress, some sandals. Light make up, no jewelleries apart from my wedding band. Lucien is wearing a button up shirt, revealing his muscled torso, black pants and normal shoes.

“Like what you see?” It’s that moment I notice I’ve been staring at him. Drool probably coming from my mouth. I clear my throat to speak but he silences me by pressing a kiss on my lips. “I love, that even after all these years, you look at me just the way when we first met in that book store. When I told you it’s you, and only you. When I asked you to marry me. Y/n, you are my everything. That’s why today I intend to make everything about you.”

He presses another kiss to my lips before taking my hand and guiding me out of our house. It is a beautiful day at the Day Court.

Memories

Lucien and I moved around a lot after starting our relationship. He didn’t feel at home in Night. Although Velaris and the Night Court were my home, I had promised him to go wherever he goes. Lucien is my home, and my heart is where my home is. At first I stayed in Velaris, but being separated from him was like torture. For both of us. As often as both of our schedules would allow we met. But it wasn’t the same. It was like having him for a burrowed time. 

After living like that for around two years, I quit my job. Sold my apartment, my furnitures - basically everything that I didn’t need. With one bag full of clothes, another one filled with books and some items close to my memory, I followed Lucien to the Human Lands to live there. Together with Vassa and Jurian. The arrangement was far from ideal. Lucien and I wanted to have some place and peace of our own. I wanted to go back to work, but living in the Human Lands this was impossible. Going back to Autumn wasn’t an option. Not as long as Beron was alive. 

Both, Lucien and I, had ties to Spring, so after a year with Vassa and Jurian we went there. Surprised to see that the Court was rebuilding itself. Or better said Tamlin and his mate, Nayeli, rebuilding their Court together. It took a while for Tamlin and Lucien to grow back together again as friends. But rest assured, Nayeli and I had our hands in it and didn’t necessarily made it easy for the two males. But when we found both of them drunk, bruised and bloodied (they’ve gotten into a fight with each other while being drunk and the only way to finally end their arguments they decided to see who is the stronger one…) all curled up next to each other telling each other how much they missed and love each other. Nayeli and I knew this is the restart of a wonderful friendship. Nayeli and I had been growing closer to each other, too. Spending girls nights together while the boys did whatever boys do. 

While Lucien still worked for Rhysand, I found a job as a teacher in the town closest to Rosehall. We lived in Spring for about ten years, seeing the court flourishing and growing. Along with Tamlin’s and Nayeli’s family: The twin girls Tana and Meira making their parents the proudest Fae I’ve ever seen.

Our time at Spring came to an end when the news of, lets say, Beron’s death spread like a wildfire through Prythian. Lucien immediately packed our things and we went to Autumn. This was the first time I’ve ever seen his mother. And by the Cauldron, I knew where Lucien had his gorgeous looks from. Beron’s death also brought some secrets up to the day light. This is when my husband learned that his biological father is in fact Helion, High Lord of the Day Court. It all made sense now. His build, his darker skin colour, his abilities. I think it’s needless to say that Lucien was shocked. He didn’t talk to anyone for days. Didn’t even want to be with me. Slept in a different room. Until I finally had enough.

“Love, you can either sit here, in your old room, brooding and tantruming like a toddler, or you get your ass off that bed and face your mother and father. I am not saying that you’re supposed to love Helion with all your heart or to worship the ground is walking on, because that right is exclusively reserved for me. All I’m saying is, give him a chance. Get to know him. Not as a High Lord, but as your father.” 

And so they did. Our visits to Day became more and more regularly and often. Most of the time taking Lucien’s mother with us. Until his mother decided to stay with Helion. Shortly after the now Lady of Day moved in with Helion, Lucien asked me if I would agree to us moving to Day as well. 

“Under one condition.”

“And that is, my love?”

“We finally settle down.”

“I think we can arrange that.”

Our life in Day was amazing. We lived in our own little house, a little outside of the town, in the nature. Lucien started working for his father as an emissary, while I got myself a job at a school. Teaching children is my passion and I never want to do anything else. After everything had calmed down in our lives Lucien asked me to marry him. I didn’t even had to think twice. I knew from the second I saw this male that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. The only thing missing now was a little fox of our own. Unfortunately this far we haven’t been blessed with a child. We do know how rare Fae pregnancies are and we don’t give up our hope.

Lucien leads me away from our house and into town. I smell freshly baked goods and my stomach growls in anticipation. Of course Lucien notices and together we go to a small bakery. I immediately lay my eyes on some deliciously looking cinnamon swirls with icing. 

“Anything for you today, my love.” 

The shop keeper packs two cinnamon swirls for us and we continue our little journey. I still got no idea what my husband has planned. But I can’t deny that I’m excited. 

Our next stop is a flower shop. Lucien picks out a flower bouquet that is made out of roses, solidago, craspedia, sunflowers and statice. I absolutely love it and draw him into a passionate kiss. He wraps his arms around my waist and I can feel all his love radiating from him. I never could’ve thought it possible of being able to love someone as much as I love him. Sometimes I do wish we would be mates. That way we both could feel all the love, passion, affection, lust and desire through the bond.

We continue walking through town and end up on the big market place. 

“I’m hungry.”

“Of course you are. Aren’t those cinnamon swirls enough?”

“They are, but I’d like to sit down somewhere. Relax. Cuddle in your arms.”

Lucien seems to be contemplating for a second before winnowing us somewhere else. As always when we winnow together I press my face into his chest and inhale his calming scent. When I turn my head out of my safe place, we are standing in one of the many gardens at Day. Our favourite one. It’s a bit hidden from all the others. Flowers, plants everywhere. Even a tiny lake in the middle of it. But today that isn’t what catches my eyes. It’s the blanket thrown across the grass. Decorated with fluffy cushions. Food and drinks in a basket next to the blanket. 

My breath hitches in my throat. This is absolutely stunning. 

Lucien and I walk towards the picnic area and sit down. I put the bouquet of flowers in a safe distance away from us. 

“Lucien… This, this is amazing.”

He pulls me into his lap, my legs straddling him. We are sitting face to face, our noses touching. None of us says a word. Just enjoying the moment.

“Happy Birthday, my love.” A kiss on my forehead. “I hope you like what I’ve prepared for you.”

“Oh Luci, you could never do something I don’t like.” Now it’s my turn to kiss his forehead. I clung unto him as if being afraid he would just vanish. He is the only thing I need. Although the cinnamon swirls are a nice addition. 

After being like this for another several minutes of cuddling and kissing, we detangle from each other and Lucien grabs the basket with food. It’s filled with bread, cheese, fruits and a bottle of wine. He fills each of us a glass of the red liquid and hands me mine.

We start drinking and eating. Talking about everything. The latest books we read. How things are going at work. Things we have to do at our house. Where he needs to go next due to his work and for how long. After our bellies are filled we lie down next to each other on the blanket. Both holding each other in their arms. 

“Y/n, I know we’ve spent many years together already and I hope we’re going to spend the rest of our days with each other. That we’ll be able to have a family of our own at some point.” He takes a deep breathe and fishes something out of his pocket. It’s a small velvet box.

“Lucien, we already are married.”

“Thanks for the reminder. I’ve nearly forgotten. But this is not a ring, y/n. Open it.” 

We both sit up again, next to each other. My legs thrown over his. As he hands me the small box all I do is look into his eyes for any signs of what this could be.

“I know what you’re doing. You will not be able to trick my golden eye.” He kisses me on the temple and I just want to melt into it. Did I by any chance already mention how much I love this male?

Slowly I open the box. Inside I find a necklace and a bracelet, both adorned with a small compass. Questioning I look up at my husband.

“My father and his scholars made this. After my request. It imitates a mating bond. As soon as we both wear it, the spell will be activated and we both will be connected to each other. We will be able to feel what the other one feels. We will be able to communicate through it. It basically will do everything a mating bond does, too.”

“Luci…” My voice hitches in my throat and I’m unable to bring out another word. “This… this is the most amazing gift I’ve ever received.” Before even taking the necklace and bracelet out of the box, my hands find Lucien cheeks and I stroke my thumbs over his cheekbones. My forehead resting on his as I merely whisper “Thank you.”

“Do you want the necklace or the bracelet, my love.”

I contemplate for a second and decide that the necklace will be the one I go with. Lucien is already wearing a few leather bracelets or better said strings, which he mostly uses for tying up his red locks. He takes the necklace out of the box and puts it around my neck. It has the perfect length for me and I can’t stop playing with it. Now it’s my time to put the bracelet on him. As soon as both of our ‘mating bond pendants’ are connected with us, both pendants radiate a small yellow-orange and light green light. And faster than the blink of an eye, I am a bit overwhelmed with all of Lucien’s emotions. So much love. I know that he loves me but this…

“I think we’re thinking the same.” He takes my hands into his. Drawing small circles on my skin with his thumb.

“I think we do.” Looking into his eyes I’ve got the feeling they are sparkling even more than before. Which is a bit funny to say as one of his eyes is made out of gold anyway. But I could swear that even the gold eye lightens up.

In one swift move Lucien pulls me over onto my back, him resting on top of me. He wipes away a stray strand of hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Needles to say that this was the best birthday I’ve ever had. It’s not like Lucien didn’t always make my birthdays as special day. It’s just this time his gift added a speciality to it. A day I will cherish forever.

Little did y/n and Lucien knew at this point, that someday they’ll tell their children and grandchildren about this day.

The view I’m being greeted with brushes a huge smile on my face. I see my mate, husband, my equal, the love of my life, playing with our children: Elora and Finn. Those two are are an iron copy of their father. Green eyes, blonde hair, same nose and mouth. The only thing they inherited from me are the freckles, and I can’t help but think if my genes even had any say in the making.

As usually when nothing is on our plan the children are still dressed in their pyjamas, Tamlin only wearing his sleeping shorts. Which he got after Elora was born. Not wanting to traumatise our daughter by running butt naked into her nursery when she’s crying. 

“Daddy?”

“Yes, my little light?”

“Can we go to Rosehall today? I want to pick some flowers for mummy.”

“Or course we can, Elora.” He kisses her in the head, then looks up at me. The love in his eyes clearly visible. And so are the sleepless nights since we started our family five years ago.

“Look who’s there.”

Both, Finn and Elora, turn their heads towards me, running into my arms and giving me tight hugs.

“Mama! Boobelly cakes.”

“Did you make some blueberry pancakes?” 

Finn nods enthusiastically.

“Oh, Thank you. I bet their the best I ever tasted.” I give him a kiss before I send him back to play.

Tamlin comes over to me, putting on hand on my nine months pregnant belly and gives me one of those kisses that say more than he could ever express himself. He nozzles his nose into my hair before kissing my temple.

“How did you sleep, my light?”

“I slept good, but your child kept me awake. Although I am not sure whether they fought or danced.”

“If they are anything like us, then definitely the latter.”

I can’t help but giggle at his words before I take his hand and together we walk over to Finn and Elora. I make myself comfortable in an armchair, as sitting down on the floor is literally impossible at my current state. After a while Tam and Elora make their way into the kitchen, which is connected to the living room, and prepare breakfast. Together with sit at the dining table, eating, discussing todays events. All three of them want to go to Rosehall, but as rising as well as winnowing is too dangerous for me, I decide to stay at home and get the nursery and Finn’s new room ready. 

I love the house Tamlin had build many moons ago. After Rosehall had been back to its former glory, if not even better, we both decided that we wanted to stay somewhere more private. The day I stepped into this house for the very first time, I knew that I wanted to spent the rest of my days here. Together with the people I love the most - my very own family.

🌹

Three weeks later our house is filled with my screams. The babe wants out and I want to sleep.

Tamlin is sitting by my side, holding my hand. Being honest I wonder how I haven’t broken each and every bone in his hands yet. 

Our oldest children are with their uncle Lucien. I don’t want them to hear their mummy screaming her soul out and swearing colourfully at their father for doing this to me.

“Just a few more pushes, my High Lady.” Our healer, Naenia, the only one Tam and I trust, says while her apprentice gets everything ready. Just as she said, after a few more pushes our latest addition to the family finally makes their appearance. Taking their first breath and wailing - the most beautiful sound a mother and father could ever hear.

“Congratulations, my High Lady and High Lord, it’s another boy.” Naenia wraps the babe up in a towel and hands him over to me. She gives Tamlin the scissors, and just like he did with the other two children, he cuts the umbilical cord, before settling next to me again.

“Welcome into this world, Felix of Rosehall. I am your daddy,” Felix wraps his tiny, tiny hand around Tam’s little finger, “and this is your wonderful, beautiful mummy.”

Tamlin kisses me on the forehead. I place my head on his chest as he wraps his arms around Felix and me.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. We love you.”

I snuggle closer into him, breathing in his scent and warmth.

“But Tam, this was the last one.”

“We’ll see about that, my freckle.”

“Three children are more than enough. Especially in such a short time span.”

“Then let’s wait a few decades or centuries.”

“You will be the death of me.” I turn my head so I can give him a kiss.

“Y/n, have you got any make up?”

“Yeah sure. Just right over there in that tiny bag”, I pointed over to a chest of drawers. On top was a mirror and my make up bag. Admittedly, there wasn’t much in there but enough to keep me going. My friend, Kyara, applied some red lip stick and mascara. I did the same but added a black line of kohl on my upper eye lid. I just like how my y/e/c sparkle even more.

“Are you two finally ready?” Ophelia questioned us while taking a long sip from her wine. 

When she arrived at my apartment she was already fully dressed and dolled up. Basically just joining so she can empty my wine cupboard. She goes back into my kitchen and pours each of us another glass of wine. As Kyara and I move over to her, she gives us our glasses.

“To a lovely girls night out! And hopefully some willing males as I really need to get fucked!” I roll my eyes at Ophelia’s speech and we toast our glasses together. After we emptied our glasses we make our way to Rita’s. As usual we have to queue but luckily it’s summer and it goes rather quickly. As soon as we’re inside we’re being greeted by loud music, flickering lights and all scents imaginable - sweat, arousal, alcohol,… 

We make our way through the crowd towards the bar, (un)fortunately we don’t make it that far. There, leaning against the wall of a booth, he is standing. His red hair all flowing openly around his shoulders and back, some strands have been braided back tightly. He is wearing a casual white shirt and green pants, coupled with brown shoes. No boots this time then. Ok. He is holding a glass of red wine in his hand and seems a bit bored, being honest. He doesn’t seem to be engaged in the conversations the others have. Nor does he look at them. It nearly seems as if he’s having a secret conversation with his wine.

So I take my chance.

“LUUUCIIII!!!” I yell as loud as I can, open my arms wide as I walk just a tiny bit faster over to him. He puts his glass down and embraces me in a tight, warm hug. 

The scent I know all too well and love the most engulfs me: bonfire, fallen leaves and apple. Am I addicted to it? Definitely. Maybe. No, definitely. My hands go straight for his face, holding him while my thumbs caress his beautiful jaw line. Lucien wraps his arms around my hips and seems to be holding me impossibly tighter. Even after that hug he doesn’t let go of me and his hand lingers on the small of my back, while my hand lays flat on his chest, trying to savour his warmth and the feel of his muscles underneath.

Lucien leans down slightly and whispers in my ear “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” I can’t help the bright smile crossing my face.

He shortly lets go of me to go behind me and takes Ophelia and Kyara in a warm hug as well. They exchange short hellos and how are you’s before Lucien returns to me. Being honest I don’t pay much heep to the other people on that table, even though I know that it’s the High Lord and Lady and their Inner Circle. 

“Why didn’t you let me know you’re visiting?” I ask him while pouting and making puppy eyes.

“I didn’t plan on it. Rhysand told me just yesterday.” He gestures over to the High Lord. I turn my head towards all of them, nod my head in greeting and return to Lucien. Nevertheless I didn’t fail to see the look on their faces. Thousands of questions. Emotions written all over their faces. That’s not everything. I feel talons scraping at my mental shield, but I block them. 

Nice try, my High Lord. Come back when you’re less obvious trying to spy information from me.

I hear a low growl and know exactly that this did not please him. I couldn’t give a damn about it. Lucien has told me enough for me to not ever wanting to be a part of their elite circle. 

“How long are you going to stay?” I ask Lucien while my hand rests on his biceps. Not trying to make it too obvious that I’m more than just interested in this male.

“Let’s go over to the bar.”

All four of us leave the Inner Circle behind and make our way over to the bar. Tye, the bar keeper, already knows us and what we’re drinking: three white wines and one red. After that we go over to a round table with four chairs, sit down and start to converse. 

Lucien and I met a while back. Right after the war with Hybern. Ever since we’ve grown to be friends and I introduced him to my friends. So he’s very familiar with Kyara and Ophelia. The conversation is flowing smoothly. I’ve got the feeling this is what Lucien misses with the others. With us he can be more of his own self than with the Inner Circle. As we’re talking I can’t help but notice that we both are stealing glances of the other one. I mean, who could blame me? Lucien is by far one of the most beautiful males I’ve ever seen. If not the most beautiful. As his hand is resting on one of his thighs I take is hand in mine and with my thumb I start drawing small patterns on his palm. He on the other hand slowly strokes my arm with his other hand. If he continues like this I’m going to fuck him right here on this table. In front of everyone. 

A small giggle escapes his lips and I turn my head to him.

“What’s so funny?”

He leans over to me and whispers in my ear: “Don’t think I can’t smell you.” 

My face goes all red and I bite my lower lip.

“Didn’t get enough last time it seems.”

Last time… We were having a small gathering at my place and played Truth or Dare. I took dare and had to kiss the most beautiful person in the room. Which to be fair was an easy choice. But ever since that day my dreams are filled with his soft lips. The taste of him. His scent.

I throw him a raspberry at that and try to calm myself down. This male radiates too much heat. In all meanings.

“So, how are Vassa and Jurian doing? And the mortal lands? When are you taking us?”

Lucien laughs at Kyara’s questions but goes to answer her: “Everything’s fine. The two are bickering all the time but won’t admit that they fuck. Didn’t think through that I can hear and smell them.” 

We all laugh at his admission. Although I can’t fail to see the bit of hurt in his eyes. I know he wants someone he can love, cherish, worship. But I’m not sure if he can after everything that happened with Jesminda. She is also the reason I don’t jump straight onto Lucien’s cock whenever I see him. Or why I haven’t shared what I feel for him with him. I want to give him time. And I’m not even sure about the Elain situation. Elain. His mate. Who is hovering after another male as if she’s a bitch on heat. 

“You have to take us with you at some point”, I say after we’ve all calmed down from laughing.

“I’d love to. But are you three sure you want to go to the Mortal Lands?”

“Why not? I’m sure they won’t bite.”

“They may not bite, but they can do other things.” 

I see the memory playing in his mind and try to change the subject: “How about we all finally hit the dance floor. I mean that’s what we’re here for.” 

I grab Lucien’s hand even tighter and drag him with me to the dance floor. I just love dancing. Although I never would claim I’m good at it. Lucky for me Lucien, Kyara and Ophelia don’t make any fun of me. The songs are really good this time and I let my body flow to the rhythm of the music. Not caring about anything around me. That is until I feel two strong hands and arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer into a hard, muscled chest. I can feel the heat rising inside of me. I swear that sweat is starting to form on my forehead. I want him. I want him so badly. Especially now as Lucien’s hips are pushing impossibly closer into my backside and I can feel his hardened cock rubbing against the fabric of my skirt. A little moan escaping my lips. I lean my head back into his shoulder while his hands keep tracing up and down my torso. Ever so slightly leaving small trails around my breasts. I take one of his hands in mine and we interlace our fingers. My other arm and hand wrap around his head, playing with his red locks. I ankle my head to the side, my nose lightly pressing against his lower cheek. Mother boil me! I want to kiss him so badly. While looking into his russet and golden eyes, I have to bite my lower lip to not act on my feelings. Lucien leans down, our lips so close, not even a hair would fit through it. Before I can say or do anything his soft, delicious lips meet mine and he turns me around. I place my hands around his neck while his hands wrap around me hips, one of them going down to my bum, squeezing it ever so slightly. His tongue licks along my lips, asking for permission. I part my lips for him and in one swift motion our tongues are tangled. Oh Cauldron! This male just tastes so delicious. At the sensation of finally having this, my heart beats like crazy, my breathing is staggered. I’m totally and entirely lost in the moment. I got no idea how much time has past. Only when we let go of each other, lips all red and swollen, I manage to take in the others around me. The Inner Circle. Dancing, but still throwing daggers at me with their eyes. I look at Lucien. To my friends. I feel so embarrassed at this moment. Did Lucien only kiss me to make Elain jealous? To get any sort of reaction out of her? I let go of him. My arms falling slack beside me. I can’t breathe. I’ve got the feeling I’m drowning. I need to get out of here.

Without turning to my friends or Lucien, I just make my way outside. I got the feeling that the world is spinning. My mouth dry. My throat clenching together. I walk as fast as I can. Not wanting to see any of them. Thoughts racing through my mind. How could I’ve been so stupid? How could I’ve ever thought that he, Lucien, son of the Autumn Court High Lord, would feel the same way for me as I feel for him? How could I have not noticed his mate being on the dance floor before he started kissing me? I’m pretty sure that right at this moment he’s either making fun of me for being so easy and naïve or shoving his tongue down Elain’s throat. I can smell the salt of my tears. I feel how they are running down my cheeks. I don’t care. I just want to get home. Want to be curled up in my bed under my blankets. 

I make my way up to my apartment and smell him. The scent that always drove me crazy. Now it’s just a sign of my utter stupidity. It probably still lingers on my clothes, my skin. I desperately have to wash it off as soon as I’m home. I open my door and stare at the figure in front of me. Of course he winnowed inside of my flat.

“Get out.” I say as calmly as I can, still my voice is filled with bitterness.

“Y/n, please. It’s not what you think.”

“GET. OUT.” My face is covered in tears. I ball my hands into fists. I can’t decide whether I’m sad or angry. Probably both.

Lucien just stands there. Leaning against the kitchen counter. His arms crossed in front of him. I make my way to my kitchen, not because of him. I need a drink. A strong one. Especially now that he’s here. I walk past him and don’t even look at him.

As I go through my cupboards looking for my favourite whiskey, Lucien starts talking.

“I came to Velaris for two reasons, okay three. First I have meetings with Rhysand. But that’s unimportant. Second. I came here to talk to Elain. I basically broke the bond. Officially. I talked to her yesterday. I don’t have any feelings for her. I can somewhat still feel that bond, but it’s basically dead. She doesn’t desire me. I don’t desire her. Not anymore.”

At that I pour myself a big glass of whiskey and empty it half way. It burns its way down my tongue and throat, right into my stomach. Just what I needed.

“And the third reason. I met someone. She’s from Velaris.” 

I cross my arms over my chest and try not to explode. Is he seriously going to tell me this shit now? After everything that happened tonight?

“She’s … She had my heart from the second I saw her. She’s the most intelligent, most funny, caring, loving person I’ve ever met. I lost my heart to her. She is the one I want to spent the rest of my life with.”

I can’t stop the tears from falling. I just want to get out of here. My heart broken. Shattered on the floor and he’s stumping on it. I take another sip from my glass, put it back down on the counter and try to make my way to my bedroom. 

I stop for a second, looking up at him and say “I hope she makes you happy.”

“You do. You do make me happy.”

Am I going mad? Did I just hear that right? 

I openly stare at him. My mouth forming an ‘o’, my eyes wide.

“Y/n. It’s you.” He wraps his one arm around my waist and pulls me closer. His other hand goes to my cheek, wiping away some of the tears. Lucien brings his forehead to mine. I can feel his breath on my face. 

“It’s been you since the second I saw you in that book store.” A kiss to my nose. 

“From that moment on all I could think about was you.” Another kiss to my forehead. “After we kissed during that stupid game”, a kiss to my one cheek, “all I could think about was your scent. Your lips. Your taste.” A kiss to my other cheek. 

“To have my arms wrapped around you. To feel your heartbeat. To smell you at day and night.” 

He kisses my lips. I can’t control my breathing. My heart seems to be jumping out of me chest. 

“All I could think about was how you’d be the first I see in the morning, and the last I see at night.” Another kiss to my lips. 

With my hands I reach up to cup is face. Placing a small kiss to his lips. 

“For you to be by my side. For you to follow me, for me to follow you no matter where our future will lead us.” 

“Lucien…”

He kisses me again while pulling me even closer to him. My fingers trace the scars on his face. I wanted to touch them for so long. Letting him know how much I love everything about him. Lucien leans is head down to nozzle my nose.

“It’s always been you.” His voice merely a whisper. Before he can kiss me I slightly jump up, wrap my legs tightly around his waist and my arms around his neck while his hands grab my thighs. I place a passionate kiss onto his lips. Nibbling them slightly before I let go. I put my forehead to his and say softly “It’s always been you.”

Relief seems to be trailing through his body at my words and at that he embraces me in a long kiss. Lips parting to let the other one in. Savouring the taste of each other. The kiss is filled with passion, lust, wanting, love, desire. 

All this time. All this time we’ve been two idiots in love. A love stronger than any mating bond.

“I’m sorry.” I say after we’ve kissed each other breathless. “I’m sorry for how I reacted.”

“No need to be sorry, sunshine. But if you like you could show me just how sorry you really are.” He winks at me as he carries me into my bedroom.