Fanfiction Galore!

Azriel could see that Lyra was holding back tears. “I brought you something.”

Azriel pulled out a stuffed bat and placed it in Lyra’s hands. “You can sleep with it at night and hug it when you miss me. I’m also going to leave you one of my shadows. You can talk to it and it’ll relay the message to me.”

Lyra ran her fingers over the bat’s soft fur. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had given her a gift like this.

Azriel took one of her small hands in his. “I’ll come back. I promise.”

Lyra remembered her mother saying something similar before she left, but this was Azriel.

He’d never lied to her.

Lyra finally nodded.

Azriel leaned forward and gently hugged her.

Lyra wrapped her arms around his neck.

The scene almost made Feyre want to cry.

Azriel felt Rhys pull on the mental tether. I’m sorry, but it’s time to go. Cassian is waiting for you at the River House.

Azriel held Lyra for a moment longer before he gently pulled away from her. “I have to go, but I’ll see you in a few days, okay?”

It took every bone in Azriel’s body to stand up and walk out the door. Before he took to the skies, he saw Lyra standing on the front step of the art studio, her bat clutched tight to her chest.

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

After a few days in Illyria, Azriel was dying to go back to Velaris. He missed Lyra more than he could express. Azriel was in a meeting with Cassian and one of the camp lords when one of his shadows curled around his ear.

“I miss you. Feyre took me and Nyx swimming today. He laughed at me because I don’t know how to swim, especially with my wings. Feyre told him to stop being mean to me. Mor said that means he likes me, but Amren suggested I just bite him.”

Azriel had to fight back a smile.

“Rhysand has been trying to teach me to fly, but Feyre said that wasn’t a good idea. Will you teach me when you get back?”

Lyra yawned and Azriel could picture how her nose crinkled when she did. “Goodnight Azzie. I hope you come back soon.”

Azriel so badly wanted to be there to tuck her in. He knew Feyre and Rhys would try their hardest to comfort her, but it wouldn’t be the same.

Was she sleeping in his bed? Were they making her sleep in her own? 

“Alright, fess up,” Cassian said once they got back to their tent.

“What?” Azriel asked.

“You were standing there not even listening to the conversation. It wasn’t until I saw you were listening to your shadows that I even realized what was going on.”

So Azriel told Cassian what Lyra had said.

“That’s great, Azriel. You and Lyra deserve to be happy.”

“I miss her so much. It’s like part of me was left behind with her.”

“What’s wrong, little one?” he asked.

“I…I wanted Papa to read to me, but the twins came up and started fighting and…”

Farron sighed. “Your father has never been one for reading.”

Cassandra shook her head. “I’m not strong and I don’t like fighting. I’ll never be a gladiator in the Sun Colosseum. The twins will make him proud. They’re not even…”

Not even his, she wanted to say. But she had been told by her mother that they were all brothers and sisters.

No matter which High Prince they came from.

“And what about you?” Farron asked.

Cassandra shrugged. “I’ll stay here in the library of Castletree. Where I belong. Forgotten. They’ll call me the Lost Princess of Summer. I’ll become a fairytale. A myth.”

Farron scooped her up in his arms.

“Why doesn’t Papa love me?” she asked and Farron’s heart shattered.

“Your father does love you.”

Cassandra just burrowed her head in his neck and he could feel her tears hitting his skin.

Farron carried her to her mother’s room in the Spring wing and laid her down on the bed. “Rest, little one,” he told her. He kissed her head and left the room to go find Dayton.

He was in his bedroom, lounging on his chaise.

“Your daughter doesn’t think you love her,” Farron said.

Dayton raised his head. “What did you just say?”

“Earlier, when came up to you, she wanted you to read her a story. And you left her to deal with the twins.”

“I…” Dayton didn’t have an answer for that. Truth be told, he never knew what to do with his only daughter.

Cassandra was bookish like Farron.

He would’ve sworn she was Farron’s daughter if her hair hadn’t come out blonde.

“She doesn’t think she’s worthy to call herself a Princess of Summer because she’ll never fight in the arena like you and your brothers. I know you don’t care for reading, but you could at least pretend to care about her interests.”

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

The next day, Dayton found her sitting outside in the gardens.

She had a book in her lap, but she wasn’t reading it. She was just staring out into the woods.

“What have you got there?” he asked her.

Cassandra’s fingers tightened on the book. “A book.”

He wanted to reply with “Yes, I can see that.” But he promised Farron he would try.

“What is it about?”

“…a prince who saves a beautiful princess from a tower. I’m…I’m sure they live happily ever after, but…”

“But what, sweetheart?”

Cassandra tossed the book aside. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just a stupid book.”

Dayton picked it up and dusted it off. “It’s not stupid if you like it.” Dayton opened it to her marked page and said, “I think we should find out if they live happily ever after.”

She reached out and put her hand on the page. “Not all princess’ get happy endings.”

“What? Of course they do. Just look at your mother.”

Cassandra took the book and marked her place again, before standing up. She was about to retreat to the library again when she heard, “I’m sorry.” She stopped but didn’t turn around.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’ll try to be better. I promise.”

Cassandra wanted to run into his arms and cry, but she knew they were just empty words. She knew why he was here.

Farron had convinced him to make peace with her.

But she wasn’t ready to make peace yet.

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

It all came to a head that night at dinner.

Evander groaned. “Do you have to bring that everywhere?” He gestured to her book.

Valeria sneered. “Yeah. She spends more time with her nose in a book than anything else.”

Cassandra tried to ignore the stinging in her eyes as her siblings continued to taunt her.

“The only daughter of the Golden Rose and the Prince of the Arena would rather escape into fantasy books than live in the real world.”

“That’s enough!” Keldarion snapped.

She put a hand on his arm. “It’s okay.”

“How is this okay?”

Cassandra shrugged. “Because I don’t matter.”

The table went silent.

“What did you just say?” Keldarion asked her.

“I don’t matter!” She shot out of her chair. “I am a disappointment to the Enchanted Vale. I squander my birthright by spending all my time in the library because I’d rather be surrounded by books because at least they won’t hurt me. Evander and Valeria will make excellent gladiators. Elias is already an efficient ruler of Winter and who am I? I’m nothing. I have nothing to offer to realm. I am but a bargaining chip to be offered to the highest bidder. So yes, I would rather live in a world of fantasy, because at least there I am loved as I am. Maybe I should leave and go to the Human Realm and let you forget about me. Or maybe I’ll become a Princess of Below and spend my days reading everything I can. Maybe then I will know peace.”

Cassandra stormed out of the dining room.

Rosalina was silent, tears streaming down her face.

“This is your fault,” Farron told Dayton, “If you had just fucking read to her, none of this would’ve happened.” Farron got up from the table to go find Cassandra.

“Day, what is he talking about?” Rosalina asked.

“She…she wanted me to read to her, but then the twins came up and…”

The twins looked at each other with guilty expressions.

“You do give more attention to them than Cassandra,” Keldarion said.

“Shut the fuck up, Kel!” Dayton snapped.

“It was just an observation,” Ezryn said.

Dayton rubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t know what to do with her. I can’t talk about books with her, but I can’t talk weapons with her either.”

“So you listen to her,” Rosalina told him, “That’s your job. To listen to her and lift her up.”

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

Things were tense in Castletree for the next few days.

Every time Dayton found Cassandra, she would move in the opposite direction.

He was tempted to buy her books, but he didn’t want her to think he was buying her love. So he started sitting near her while she read. He would read correspondence from the Summer Realm and tell her about Delphie and Nori’s adventures.

Then he moved onto telling her stories of his and Farron’s younger years. Day by day she let him come closer to her until he was finally sitting next to her, reading over her shoulder and asking her questions about the story.

Cassandra would playfully roll her eyes and answer his questions.

One day, he presented her with a wrapped book.

“What is this?” she asked.

“Open it,” he told her.

Cassandra unwrapped it and found a navy-blue book.

On the front was golden script that read, “The Lost Princess of Summer.”

She opened it, but it was empty. “What…?”

“I figured since you read so many stories that maybe it’s time for you to write your own.”

Cassandra looked up at him, tears in her blue eyes. She threw her arms around his neck. “I love you, Papa.”

Brigid stiffened. “Does the whole Night Court know?”

Lucien shook his head. “Only Rhysand. He pulled it out of him when he returned the last time.”

“Pulled it out of him? You mean he…?”

“No. Gods, no! He wouldn’t torture his own son like your grandfather.”

“But…was he angry?”

Lucien gave her a sly smile. “I wouldn’t say that…”

They entered the dining hall and Lucien escorted her to the long table at the far end of the room.

Eris sat there with her mother, the former Lady of Autumn, and Helion. Beron had died before Brigid was born, so Helion was like a grandfather to her.

Brigid took a seat next to her father.

“You look stunning, my dear. Like a true Heir of Autumn,” Eris told her.

“Thank you, daddy.” As they ate dinner, Brigid tried to keep her eyes off Nyx.

The Night Court were sitting towards the back of the room, four sets of wings jutting above the crowd.

She thought about what Lucien had said about Rhysand not being angry.

What did he mean by that?

Brigid made small talk with her father and Lucien until it was time for the tables to be pushed to the side to allow for dancing.

Fae from all courts came to pay their respects to Eris and Brigid.

Kallias and Vivianne approached with their son Wren.

“Would you honor me with a dance, princess?” Wren asked.

Brigid wanted to refuse, but there was no way she could decline without raising suspicions. Brigid nodded and Wren led her onto the dance floor.

“You look beautiful,” Wren said.

“Thank you.” As they danced, Brigid realized they were moving towards the back.

Wren spun her and let go.

She landed in Nyx’s arms.

“Thank you for the assistance, Wren,” Nyx said.

Wren nodded and made his way back onto the dance floor.

Brigid and Nyx left the ballroom.

As the doors to the ballroom closed, Nyx leaned down to kiss her.

“No. Not here,” she told him.

Brigid took his hand and led him to the gallery. She shut the door behind them.

“Wow,” Nyx said.

Brigid smiled. “I knew you’d love this room, especially with your mother being an artist.”

Nyx turned to her with a smirk. “The only work of art I see here is you.”

Brigid rolled her eyes. It was then that she noticed his suit jacket.

Instead of silver thread, it was embroidered with golden flames.

Brigid ran her hands across the stitching. “It’s beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you, my fox.”

Brigid smiled. “I like that one more than darling.”

“Good to know.”

“Now, shut up and kiss me, Archeron.”

Nyx grasped her chin in his hand and finally pressed his lips to hers.

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

Eris looked around the ballroom. He hadn’t seen his daughter in some time. He flagged down Lucien. “Where is my daughter?” Eris asked.

“Probably dancing with suitors,” Lucien answered.

Eris narrowed his eyes at his baby brother. “Where is she?”

Lucien was silent.

Eris stood up from his throne, the crowd parting for him as he left the ballroom. Eris walked through the halls of the Forest House.

They were mostly deserted, besides the occasional guard.

Eris could hear voices coming from the gallery. He opened the door and found Nyx Archeron perched atop his daughter on a couch.

Her dress was up around her waist and his lips were pressed to her neck.

From what he could see, Nyx’s hand was caressing Brigid’s bare thigh.

“Nyx,” Brigid sighed.

“Guards!” Eris yelled.

The two young fae jumped apart.

Guards came running into the gallery.

“Seize him!” Eris ordered.

The guards grabbed Nyx and pulled him off the couch.

“Escort him from the premises.”

“No! Wait!” Brigid yelled.

Eris moved towards his daughter, but she ran to Nyx.

She took his face in her hands and kissed him. “I love you.”

“I love you, Brigid Vanserra.”

Eris had seen enough. “I, Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court, banish Nyx Archeron, Heir of the Night Court, from ever setting foot in the Autumn Court. You are to be killed on sight if you ever return.”

“No!” Brigid felt her heart shatter in her chest as she held back her tears.

“Look at me, Brigid darling.”

Brigid met Nyx’s eyes.

“I will find a way back to you. I promise.” Brigid nodded as the guards dragged Nyx out of the gallery.

Eris turned to his daughter. “As for you, you will have a guard with you at all times. You are not to leave the Forest House without a member of the royal household in attendance.”

Brigid dissolved into tears as her knees buckled.

“Morrigan,” Nesta said.

“Nesta.” Morrigan peaked around Nesta to look at the young half-Illyrian. “Hi, I’m Mor! You must be Ferrawyn!”

Who was this blonde? And how did she know her name?

“Did Cassian tell you?” Nesta asked. She knew Cassian couldn’t keep his mouth shut about Ferrawyn. Nesta wished he’d tone it down.

The last thing they needed was for Ferrawyn to be forced into the Blood Rite like she, Gwyn, and Emerie had.

Mor giggled. “Of course Cassian told me! He talks about her like he’s a proud father!”

Ferrawyn stared at Mor with wide hazel eyes.

Hazel eyes Mor had seen for the last five centuries.

Nesta could feel Ferrawyn clutching onto the back of her sweater.

Mor suddenly froze. She groaned. “Rhys is calling me. See you later, Ferrawyn!” She left the library as quickly as she came.

Ferrawyn let out a shaky breath.

Azriel entered the library and saw Ferrawyn standing frozen with Nesta. He could see the panic in her eyes. “What happened?” he asked.

“Mor,” Nesta spat out.

Azriel rushed over to Ferrawyn and cupped her face in his hands. “Hey. Look at me.” Azriel’s eyes met her panic filled ones. “You’re okay. You’re safe. Just breathe.”

Her chest rose and fell in jerky movements.

“Just like that, Wynne.”

Nesta watched the two of them. She noticed the way Azriel was so tender with her. The way Ferrawyn leaned into his touch.

Her breathing finally returned to normal.

“There you go.” Azriel’s thumbs caressed her cheeks as he touched his forehead to hers, a soft smile on his lips.

Nesta cleared her throat, reminding the two that she was still in the room.

The two gently pulled away from each other.

“Who was that?” Ferrawyn asked.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “The Morrigan. Rhys’ cousin in all but blood.”

“Are you hungry?” Azriel asked Ferrawyn.

“Will…will Mor be there?”

It broke Azriel’s heart to see her confidence shattered by one interaction.

“We could eat in here,” Nesta suggested, “I do it all the time.”

Ferrawyn looked at her and nodded.

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

The Inner Circle sat at the dining room table (minus Nesta and Azriel of course).

“Where’s Ferrawyn?” Cassian asked.

In the past couple weeks, she hadn’t missed a family dinner.

Rhys felt a pull on the mental thread he shared with Azriel. We’re going to eat in the private library. Ferrawyn met Mor. It…it didn’t go well. Rhys sighed.

“What?” Cassian asked.

“Mor, did you meet Ferrawyn by any chance?” Rhys asked her.

Mor sipped her wine. “All she did was stare at me. I don’t know what her problem is.”

Cassian growled and stood up, grabbing his food.

“Where are you going?” Mor asked.

“To have dinner with Wynne.”

“So I’m the bad guy in this situation?”

Cassian rounded on her. “You made her uncomfortable! We have worked for months for her feel at home here! And then you come in and completely destroy it!” 

Rhys had never seen Cassian yell at Mor like this. He hadn’t even defended Nesta like this.

Feyre put a hand on Rhys’ arm. He’s just doing for Ferrawyn what you would do for Nyx. Don’t be angry with him, Feyre told him.

Cassian stalked out of the dining room and made his way to the private library. “Throwing a party without me?” he asked.

Azriel and Ferrawyn were sitting on a couple of cushions on the floor, while Nesta was sitting in an armchair.

As soon as she was out of eyesight, he flopped back onto the cooling sand and ran his hands over his face. How was he going to pull her out of this?

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

The next day, Dayton returned to the beach with an umbrella and a picnic basket. “Can’t have you losing your ghostly complexion.”

Her lips didn’t even quirk up.

Damn. That usually got her to blush.

He used to joke that she and Farron could be twins with how pale they were. Dayton wished he knew how to make her smile again.

He took a seat next to Penelope and told her anything he could think of. He told her about the happenings of Castletree and his relationship with Farron and the other princes.

Penelope stayed silent.

When the sun hit its peak in the sky, Dayton opened the picnic basket. He pulled out a sandwich and held it out to Penelope along with a waterskin.

She took it and took a bite. She washed it down with the water.

“That’s my girl.” He gave her a wink, but there was still no reaction from her.

Dayton considered bringing Farron with him so he could maybe read aloud to her. Maybe she was sick and Ezryn could heal her.

“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart,” Dayton begged, but Penelope still said nothing.

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

This went on for weeks.

Rosalina and Farron sent him letters asking what was wrong and why he was spending so much in the Summer Realm.

Dayton had even reached out to Keldarion for advice, but the only thing the icy bastard said was “Keep trying. She’ll break one day and she’ll need you to put her back together.”

Dayton was in the middle of sharpening his blades when Penelope said, “I lost my maidenhead.”

Dayton’s head snapped to the side.

“And he…he didn’t even care!” Penelope dissolved into tears.

Dayton pulled her into his chest. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“It should have been you! I waited for you, Day!” Penelope cried.

Dayton said nothing. He just held her and stroked her hair as she sobbed. “I’m sorry,” he told her again, “I wouldn’t have been worthy of it.”

Before Rosalina, he would have done the same thing. He had barely been worthy of being Farron’s first time. There were so many things he wished he could go back and say. So many things he wished he could go back and change.

“One day you’ll find your mate and…”

Penelope scoffed and shoved him in the chest. “Yeah right, Dayton. Mates don’t exist.”

So he told her. All about Farron and Rosalina and Keldarion.

“Are you in love with her?” Penelope asked him.

Dayton wasn’t completely sure he would call it love. “I care about her.”

Penelope rolled her eyes. “You love her. You just won’t admit to yourself. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Everyone I love dies, Pen.”

“Well I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Dayton looked down at her.

She was giving him that smile. That one only meant for him.

He kissed her forehead. “One day you’ll find someone who will love you much more than I ever could.”

“Can…can we just pretend? For today?”

Feyre knew this was Lyra’s way of pouting.

“Lyra, can you show me how you’re feeling?”

Lyra didn’t look up.

Feyre considered using her Daemati powers, but she knew Lyra’s mental defenses were weak. Feyre pulled on the mental tether with Cassian.

Can you come to the art studio?

She was met with silence. He was probably with Nesta and she didn’t want to know what they were doing.

She pulled on the mental tether with Azriel next.

Can you come to the art studio?

Azriel arrived a few minutes later. He walked over to Lyra and picked up the paper and crayons.

Lyra lifted her head when a shadow wrapped around her wrist.

“Can you tell me how you’re feeling?” Azriel asked her.

Lyra just stared at him.

He pushed the paper closer to her. “Could you draw it?” 

She took a blue crayon and drew a sad face.

“Why do you feel sad?”

Lyra drew three figures in a house.

The three of them were smiling.

Outside the house she drew a small stick figure that was crying.

“I’m sorry we’ve made you feel that way,” Feyre told her. She leaned down to place a hand on Lyra’s back, but she jerked away.

Azriel placed a hand on Lyra’s arm and she relaxed.

She doesn’t like me, Feyre told Azriel.

It’s probably because you’re not Illyrian, Azriel said.

Feyre wanted to argue that she now had an Illyrian anatomy, but she wasn’t Illyrian in the way it mattered. She hadn’t grown up in the culture.

Azriel stayed with them the rest of the afternoon.

Feyre wished Lyra would speak to her, but Azriel assured her that she spoke to Cassian and Nyx when they were alone. With Azriel there, Lyra was able to work through her feelings.

The more Feyre watched them, the more she noticed how in tune the two of them were.

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

Lyra shot up in bed panting. Her cheeks were wet with tears, but she didn’t know why she was crying.

She wiped at her face and felt the shadow around her wrist pulling her towards the door. It led her to Azriel’s bedroom.

He opened the door and looked down at her. “Hey, what’s wrong, little one?”

His gentle tone caused her to start crying again. “It’s okay. Come here.”

He picked her up and cradled her to his bare chest. He had done the same thing with Nyx when he was a baby when nothing else would calm him.

Azriel brought her head to his chest, stroking her dark hair. “Just listen to my heartbeat. You’re safe, little one.”

He paced his room, softly humming until her sobs turned into soft sniffles. “Bad dream?” he asked her.

Lyra nodded.

“That’s okay. I get bad dreams too.” He picked up a blanket and wrapped it around Lyra’s shoulders, being careful of her wings.

Azriel noticed that Lyra was inspecting the blanket. “Do you like it? My mother made it for me.”

Lyra yawned and her eyelids started to droop.

Azriel laid down on the bed with Lyra still curled up on his chest. He leaned down and kissed her head.

“Very well, Wynne. You’ll begin training with the Valkyries tomorrow morning,” Rhys told her.

“And my siphons?”

“Are being worked on as we speak. We’ll start with two and see if you require more than that.”

Azriel and Rhys were betting that she would need at least four or five if she had inherited even half the power Cassian had.

Cassian looked at her. “Do you have a pair of fighting leathers?”

Ferrawyn shook her head.

“She looks about Emerie’s size,” Azriel observed, “Maybe she has an extra pair.”

Ferrawyn’s eyes lit up. “Emerie? Emerie is a Valkyrie?”

Cassian nodded.

That answered the question of whether she knew Emerie or not.

“Trained her myself,” Cassian said, smug.

Azriel hit him on the arm.

“Az helped of course.”

“Will…will you be there?” Ferrawyn asked Azriel.

“Of course.” He’d be overseeing the priestesses as he usually did, leaving Cassian to train the Valkyries.

“See you bright and early, Wynne!” Cassian said.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Ferrawyn woke up and slipped on the fighting leathers that had been left folded on her desk. They were incredibly form fitting and made her feel self-conscious. She found Cassian at the breakfast table and a bowl of scrambled eggs and protein at her spot at the table.

“Where’s Nesta?” Ferrawyn asked.

“She…didn’t want to overwhelm you. She’ll be meeting us at training.”

Ferrawyn took a seat and ate her breakfast, before following Cassian to the training area.

There were three people already there stretching.

One had brown hair braided into a coronet and looked like Feyre. Another had copper red hair, much lighter than Lucien’s. And the third…

“Emerie!” Ferrawyn ran to the other Illyrian woman.

Emerie barely had enough time to stand up before Ferrawyn launched herself on her. “This is where you disappeared off to,” Emerie said, “No one would tell me where you had gone. All I heard was that you blew up a tent.”

“Blew up a tent? Now how did you do that?” the copper haired one asked, “I’m Gwyn by the way.”

“I found a siphon,” Ferrawyn said, “I’m not even sure how I did it.”

Emerie and Gwyn giggled.

Cassian walked up to them. “Morning, Nes.”

Ferrawyn’s eyes went wide.

The brown-haired one was Nesta. “Nesta Archeron.”

Ferrawyn nodded her head and dropped into a shallow curtsey. “Ferrawyn. It’s an honor to meet you, Lady Nesta.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Just Nesta.”

“Ladies, this is Ferrawyn. The newest Valkyrie recruit.”

“Does she know what she’s getting herself into?” Nesta asked, her silver-blue eyes on Ferrawyn.

They felt like they were staring directly into Ferrawyn’s soul.

“You’ll want to take your boots off,” Nesta told her.

“My…what?”

“Your boots.”

Ferrawyn untied her boots and slipped them off.

Nesta stood next to her and guided her through the first steps of training.

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

By lunch time, Ferrawyn was nearly passed out. She was exhausted.

She sat on the ground near the training ring staring off into space. Her mind was too tired to wander.

Nesta, who was watching the priestesses train, noticed that Cassian got the same look in his eye when he was tired. She called it his “thousand-yard stare”.

Nesta sat next to the younger girl.

Ferrawyn shook her head and looked at Nesta.

“You get used to it,” Nesta told her, “Being tired afterwards.”

Ferrawyn groaned and dramatically fell onto her back.

Nesta heard a huff of laughter she was pretty sure had come from Azriel. Nesta laid down next to her and they stared up at the sky. Out of the corner of her eye, Nesta saw Ferrawyn start to twirl a piece of hair around her finger as she stared up blankly.

Cassian did that too when he was tired.

There were too many similarities between this girl and her mate that she couldn’t ignore.

Azriel appeared above them. “Ready for lunch?” he asked Ferrawyn.

She simply nodded, staring up into his hazel eyes.

He came around in front of them and knelt, taking Ferrawyn’s hands in his own. He gently pulled her up and Nesta noticed how he gently ran his thumbs over the backs of her hands before letting go.

“Coming, Nesta?” Azriel asked.

“No, you two go on ahead.”

Lyra just blinked at him.

He didn’t blame her for not talking to him. He’d been in her shoes once a long time ago.

Lyra reached out a hand towards his shadows.

“You like them?”

Lyra nodded.

Most children were scared of him. Of the High Lord’s infamous Shadowsinger. He wasn’t as friendly or easy-going as Cassian nor was he as suave or charming as Rhys.

A few shadows curled themselves into her hair and she giggled.

Azriel fought a smile.

Lyra was so innocent.

Just like Nyx.

Lyra suddenly yawned and he pulled his shadows back.

“Time for bed, little one.”

Lyra climbed back into her bed and pulled the covers over herself.

Azriel leaned down and tucked her in. “Goodnight, Lyra.” He busied himself with cleaning up Lyra’s dishes until he heard her breathing level out.

He turned to the young female. Azriel felt a fierce need to protect her. He walked over to her and caressed her cheek with the back of his finger.

A shadow slithered down his arm and wrapped itself around her wrist. It would alert him if something was wrong.

Azriel took one last look at Lyra sleeping peacefully in her bed and left the room.

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

The next morning, there was a knock on her door.

Lyra sat up, hoping it was Azriel again.

Rhysand instead entered her room. “Good morning, Lyra.”

Lyra looked down and saw her shadow was missing.

Where was Azriel?

“He’s training the priestesses at the House of Wind with Cassian, but he’ll be by later on this afternoon.”

Lyra’s eyes went wide.

“I’m a Daemati. I can hear your thoughts if they’re broadcasted loud enough. We’ll work on your mental shields at a later time. Would you like some breakfast?”

Lyra slid out of bed and followed Rhysand to the dining room.

Feyre and Nyx were there already, along with a woman who looked like Feyre and a male with bright red hair.

He had a mechanical eye that narrowed when he saw her.

Rhysand picked her up and gently placed her in a chair.

This one was made to accommodate wings thankfully.

Rhysand took a seat next to his mate and son. “Lyra, this is Elain Archeron and her mate Lucien Vanserra. Elain, Lucien, this is Lyra. She’ll be staying with us for a while.”

“She’s my new sister!” Nyx said.

“Friend,” Feyre gently corrected him.

Feyre and Rhys hadn’t discussed adopting Lyra; despite the connection Nyx had with her.

“But she’s Illyrian, like us!” Nyx argued.

“We’ll discuss this later, Nyxie,” Rhysand told him.

Lyra wanted to be part of a family. She wanted someone who would take care of her and protect her. Someone who would tuck her in at night and kiss her forehead and dry her tears when she cried.

She glanced at her wrist, wishing her shadow were here to comfort her. She liked Azriel’s shadows.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something.

It was a little miniature fox made out of fire.

Lyra gasped.

“My oldest brother taught me that trick,” Lucien told her.

Azriel’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the two. He looked at Rhys who subtly nodded.

So this was why Ferrawyn had been kept a secret from the rest of the Inner Circle.

“Az said you had a rough night,” Rhys said.

“The storm woke me up,” she told him.

“How is your elbow?” Azriel asked.

“It feels fine. Thank you.”

“Did you hurt yourself?” Cassian asked.

“Azriel scared me and I fell into an end table.”

A growl emanated from Cassian, shocking everyone at the table.

“I’m fine! I was just startled! I didn’t know he was here.”

Cassian calmed down and went back to eating.

“Cassian?” Ferrawyn asked.

“Hmm?”

“When can I meet Nesta?”

Cassian froze, his fork halfway to his mouth.

“Azriel said she’s your mate.”

“She is,” Cassian said.

“Then why can’t I meet her?”

“Nesta is…it’s complicated,” Rhys told her.

“She could meet Elain,” Azriel suggested.

Rhys considered this. Anyone who Elain liked was okay in Nesta’s book.

“Who’s Elain?” Ferrawyn asked.

“Feyre’s other sister,” Rhys said.

Ferrawyn went quiet and pushed her food around with her fork.

Azriel’s shadows slithered across the table to comfort her.

“You have a big family. It must be nice.”

“It can be. It can also be a bit much,” Rhys told her.

“Elain likes to garden and bake. Her mate Lucien has been on the Continent, so she’s been lonely,” Azriel mentioned.

Ferrawyn knew what it felt like to be lonely.

“Maybe you could help her bake something? Or help her in the garden?” Ferrawyn nodded.

Rhys sat back in his chair. “Then it’s settled. I’ll take you to the townhouse tomorrow.”

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

The next morning Rhys winnowed them to the townhouse.

Ferrawyn immediately felt more at home than at the House of Wind.

Cassian and Azriel needed to resume their training with Valkyries, so it was decided that Rhys would accompany her on this little outing.

Elain floated into the living room. She was just as beautiful as Feyre. “Hello Rhys,” she said.

“Hello Elain. This is Ferrawyn.”

Ferrawyn gave her a small smile.

“Nuala, Cerridwen, and I were just about to bake a cake for Lucien,” Elain told him, “He’s supposed to be returning today and I wanted to surprise him!”

“Can I help?” Ferrawyn asked.

Elain smiled. “Of course!” Elain looped her arm with Ferrawyn’s and led her into the kitchen.

She helped Elain measure and mix the ingredients for the cake, while the wraiths prepped the oven and cake pans.

“Tell me about…Lucien,” Ferrawyn said as they waited for the cake batter to bake.

“Lucien is the son of the High Lord Helion of the Day Court. He’s also the emissary of the Night Court and occasionally the Spring Court.”

“So he travels a lot. Don’t you miss him?”

Elain nodded. “But we can communicate with bond.” She touched her chest, above her heart. “It’s more like feelings rather than words, but it’s better than nothing.”

“How did you meet him?”

Elain’s eyes went glassy. “When Nesta and I were taken by Hybern…they forced us into the Cauldron. Lucien was there and when I came out of the Cauldron, the bond snapped.”

“And it was the happiest day of my life,” they heard.

Elain squealed and rushed towards a redheaded male with mismatched eyes. “You’re back early!”

Lucien smiled. “I couldn’t stay away for another second.”

The way Lucien looked at Elain…it made Ferrawyn’s heart ache. How she longed for someone to look at her like that.

Lucien looked at Ferrawyn and his metal eye narrowed. “Who is this?”

“This is my new friend, Ferrawyn!”

Lucien took in Ferrawyn, from her pointed ears to her wings. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ferrawyn.”

Ferrawyn nodded. “Lord Lucien.”

Lucien shook his head. “Just Lucien, please.”

“We were baking you a cake as a surprise,” Elain told him.

“I could leave and come back. I’m an excellent actor.”

Elain giggled, her hand on his chest.

“Let’s bake something else. Do you know how to make lemon tarts?” Ferrawyn asked, “I used to make them all the time in Illyria.”

Lucien put a hand on Elain’s back. “That sounds delicious. Would you like my help?”

Ferrawyn wanted to object, before remembering she was no longer in Illyria.

Elain turned to her mate. “We’d love your help.”

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

 When they returned to the House of Wind, Ferrawyn carried a box of lemon tarts.

Rhys had returned to Velaris to the home he shared with Feyre and his son.

Cassian was nowhere to be seen, so she assumed he was with Nesta somewhere in the city.

“Azriel?” she asked, knowing the male was hiding in the shadows somewhere.

He appeared beside her and she tried her hardest not to jump.

She turned to him and held out the box of lemon tarts. “I…I baked them with Elain today. I used to make them all the time in Illyria and I thought…”

“For me?” Ferrawyn nodded.

“I…I know we’re not mated or anything, so it shouldn’t trigger a frenzy.”

If I could choose a mate for myself, it would be you, Ferrawyn thought to herself.

Azriel cautiously took the box and opened it. He picked up one of the lemon tarts and popped it into his mouth. The flavors exploded on his tongue and he groaned. He’d never been one for sweets, but he would eat anything she gave him.

Ferrawyn shivered.

“Thank you,” he told her.

“You’re…you’re welcome.” She stood there for a moment before she said, “Goodnight Azriel.”

The male smirked, an exact copy of Rhys’. “Yeah. Bit of a mouthful. Name’s Ruhn.”

God, even their names were similar.

Ruhn helped her stand and she finally got a good look at her surroundings.

Buildings made of glass touched the sky. People walked around in strange clothing.

Ari could feel herself start to panic. “Where…where am I?”

“Lunathion.”

That wasn’t a city she’d heard of in Prythian or on the Continent. It quickly dawned on her that she wasn’t in the Fae Realm anymore.

“I’ll take you to my sister,” Ruhn said, “She knows everyone.”

Ari’s spy training kicked it and she tapped the siphon on the back of her hand. Her leathers retracted, leaving her in a tunic and leggings. She looked back at her wings.

Ruhn waved his hand, dismissively in the way Rhys did. “Those are normal here.”

Ari followed him to an apartment. They entered and she immediately saw red hair. She had one of her daggers out before anyone could blink.

“Whoa!” Ruhn said, stepping in front of her.

“Ruhn, who is she?” the girl asked.

“Are you Autumn Court? Is this Eris’ idea of some sick joke?” Ari snapped. Her eyes never left the female with red hair.

“Hey, Ari. Look at me,” Ruhn said, using that same tone of voice Rhys used when she, Cassian, or Azriel flew into a rage.

Her eyes met his and her arm lowered a fraction.

“1. We don’t have courts here and 2. We don’t know who Eris says, but whoever he is he sounds like asshole,” he told her.

She let out a small laugh.

“You gonna put the dagger down now?” Ruhn asked.

Ari sheathed her dagger, but only because the winged male next to the red haired female looked like he was about to rip her throat out.

His wings were feathered, unlike her own.

“Dawn Court?” she asked him.

The male shook his head.

“Seraphim? One of Drakon’s people?”

“Hunt is an angel,” the female said, “I’m Bryce Quinlan. Ruhn is my brother.”

“Where did you come from?” Hunt asked.

Normally, she wouldn’t have told them anything, but it was clear that they wanted to help her. “I come from a land called Prythian ruled over by seven High Fae lords. My mate is Azriel, Shadowsinger and Spymaster for the High Lord of the Night Court.”

“How did you get here?” Bryce asked.

“I…I fell into this world.”

“A portal? You fell through a portal?” Hunt asked her.

“I…I guess so. How do I get back?”

The trio shared a look that told her she wouldn’t like the answer.

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

In Prythian, Azriel felt it the moment the mating bond went silent. He bent over Rhys’ desk, one hand clutching his chest.

“What? What is it?” Rhys asked. Rhys stood by his brother's side, one hand between his wings and the other on his arm.

“The bond…it’s…”

“Gone?” Cassian guessed.

“If it were gone, he’d be screaming in pain,” Amren said.

They all remembered Feyre’s screams when Rhys had died.

“It’s like it’s gone dormant,” Azriel explained.

“Where was she?” Rhys asked.

“In Autumn.”

They all exchanged looks.

“She was doing reconnaissance.”

Rhys glared at his Shadowsinger. “For what? I didn’t authorize this!”

“She was keeping an eye on Eris. There were rumors that he was going to move on Beron.”

“We can’t sneak into Autumn,” Feyre said, “Not when tensions are still high.”

Azriel snarled. “We are not going to leave her!”

“She’ll come home to us Azriel. If she can survive Under the Mountain, she can survive anything,” Cassian told him.

Cassian flew back to Feyre’s shop to tell Lyra the good news. When he saw Feyre, he nodded.

Feyre walked over to Lyra. “Lyra.”

Lyra’s eyes filled with tears. It was time to go back to Windhaven. She didn’t want to go back there. No one paid attention to her there. No one spoke to her in a soft encouraging voice.

“My mate, the High Lord, thinks it would be a good idea if you came and stayed with us,” Feyre told her.

“Would you like that Lyra?” Cassian asked.

Lyra nodded.

“Wonderful. Let me close up the shop and we’ll head home,” Feyre said. She found a small bag for Lyra to put her art supplies in.

Cassian scooped Lyra up and put her on his shoulders. She giggled and grabbed onto his wings.

“Me next! Me next, Cass!” Nyx said.

“Cassian isn’t for climbing,” Feyre told him.

“We’ll play later, little warrior.”

They walked the couple blocks to the River House. They went inside and Cassian set her down.

Lyra looked down at her muddy boots and took them off, setting them by the front door.

“You don’t have to that,” Feyre told her.

Cassian pulled his boots off and set them next to Lyra’s.

Feyre led them to a small sitting room.

“Daddy!” Nyx yelled. He went running into Rhys’ arms. Rhys picked him up and kissed his forehead.

Lyra couldn’t remember the last time someone hugged her. Had anyone ever lovingly kissed her cheek?

Lyra didn’t even notice she was crying until she felt something cold on her cheek. She went to brush it away and noticed it was a shadow. Lyra let out a soft gasp.

The shadow suddenly jerked away from her.

Lyra’s face crumpled and she collapsed to the floor. Her hands came up to her face as she started crying harder.

“Az…” Rhys said.

Shadows wrapped themselves around her wrists. They curled over her cheeks and wound themselves through her hair as if to say, “Don’t cry! We’ll be your friends!”

Lyra sniffled as she wiped her cheeks with her hands.

“Perhaps Lyra needs some rest before dinner,” Feyre suggested.

“I agree. It’s been a trying day,” Rhys said.

Feyre put a hand on Lyra’s shoulder, directing her into the hallway.

The shadows retreated back into the study.

Azriel moved to follow them, but Cassian’s hand on his chest stopped him.

Rhys knew why he wanted to keep an eye on the little girl.

Azriel saw himself in Lyra.

“Give her time,” Rhys told him.

Feyre led Lyra to a bedroom.

There was a small bed and wardrobe like they had been expecting her.

“The house has enchantments,” Feyre explained, “Would you like to change?”

Lyra nodded.

Feyre helped her into a blue sweater and a pair of cream leggings.

They were so soft and Lyra could tell they cost a lot of money. Far more money than Lyra and her mother had ever had.

Lyra climbed onto the bed and pulled the covers over herself. When was the last time she’d slept in a real bed instead of a hard cot?

Feyre left the room and Lyra settled in for her nap.

Ferrawyn backed away from him in fear, until her back hit the wall. She whimpered as she held her bruised elbow.

“I won’t hurt you,” Azriel told her.

Tears filled her eyes.

Why wasn’t Cassian here?

She must have asked the question out loud, because Azriel answered, “He’s staying in the city with Nesta.”

“Who’s Nesta?” Ferrawyn asked.

Azriel’s brows furrowed. “Nesta is Cassian’s mate and Feyre’s sister.”

Cassian had a mate? Why hadn’t he told her?

“Can I help you up?” Azriel asked her.

Ferrawyn nodded, sniffling.

Azriel gently helped her to her feet.

Ferrawyn hissed when the movement jostled her arm.

They stood there for a moment just staring at each other.

“The storm woke me up,” she told him.

“Cassian used to be afraid of thunderstorms when we were younger.”

Ferrawyn gave him a small smile. “Really?”

Azriel nodded as a shadow darted out to wipe a tear from her cheek. “I…I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay. Rhys didn’t tell me you were here.”

“I’m here every night.”

Ferrawyn’s brows furrowed. “What do you do all night?”

“Sometimes I sleep, sometimes I train.”

A loud crack of thunder made Ferrawyn flinch and she grabbed onto Azriel’s leathers.

Azriel wasn’t sure he was breathing. Azriel’s arms wrapped around her and he gently rubbed her back.

The blue light from his siphons was soothing to Ferrawyn.

Azriel held her until her breathing leveled out and her heartbeat returned to normal. “Can I get you anything?” Azriel asked her.

“Hot chocolate.”

Azriel chuckled, causing Ferrawyn to hit him with her good arm. Azriel led her to the kitchen and a cup of hot chocolate was sitting on the counter.

Ferrawyn grabbed it and noticed it was hot.

Azriel answered her unasked question. “The House has enchantments,” Azriel told her. He sat next to her, observing her.

So this was the new Valkyrie. The only thing Rhys had said was he was overseeing her magic training. Cassian had been tight lipped about her also, only telling Azriel her name. He imagined she would get along well with Elain and Gwyn, both of them being on the quieter side.

Azriel was startled out of his thoughts by Ferrawyn’s hand touching his. She was leaning over the counter looking at the siphon on the back of his hand.

“They’re so beautiful.”

Like Elain, he had no idea if she was talking about the siphon itself or his scars.

“Rhys said I’ll be ready for siphon training soon,” Ferrawyn said softly.

“Will Cassian be training you?”

Ferrawyn shrugged, sleepily blinking her eyes.

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“The storm has passed,” he told her.

Ferrawyn hummed, still tracing the siphon on the back of his hand.

Azriel tilted his head and caught Ferrawyn’s eyes. “You should get some rest.”

Ferrawyn let go of his hand and Azriel resisted the urge to reach back and thread her fingers with his.

She offered him a small smile. “Goodnight Azriel.”

“Goodnight Ferrawyn.”

When she left the kitchen, he felt like a little piece of himself went with her.

Brigid read Nyx’s words a few more times before she burned the letter. She was tempted to keep the letter, but she couldn’t risk her father or a servant finding it.

Brigid didn’t know how to feel about Night Court spies in her Court. But knowing her father, he probably had his own spies in the Night Court as well.

Brigid walked over to the window, staring out towards the Autumn/Spring border. She knew there was a hunting cabin her Uncle Lucien had told her about where he used to meet with his lover Jesminda before her death.

Now she would just need to come up with an excuse to tell her father.

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

Her excuse was she was going to visit the outlying villages of the Autumn Court that often did not see the royal family. That was the one thing Lucien had stressed upon her growing up.

Getting to know the lesser fae of the court. Those were the people who really mattered. Those were going to be her true subjects.

Brigid left her horse tied to the fence and went inside.

Nyx was sitting on the couch. He rose when he saw her. Today he was dressed in a simple black tunic and trousers. He didn’t look like the Heir to the Night Court. He looked like a regular male meeting a female he couldn’t stay away from.

“Brigid,” he breathed.

Brigid rushed over to him and pressed her lips to his.

It felt like all the tension left his body as he cupped her face in his hands. “Hello, Brigid darling.”

Nyx wrapped his arms around her, and she set her head on his chest. Having her in his arms felt right.

“We’re not mates, are we?” Brigid asked.

Nyx sighed and set his head on hers. “No, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“But…it could still snap right?”

“Brigid, look at me.”

She looked up at him.

“I don’t care that you’re not my mate. I have feelings for you and that’s all that matters.”

“Do you promise?”

Nyx leaned down and brushed her lips with his. “I promise.”

Nyx suddenly felt a searing pain in his chest. He pulled away from Brigid and doubled over in pain.

“Nyx?” Brigid asked.

Nyx pulled at his tunic and found a brand in the shape of a fox over his heart. “What the…?”

“That wasn’t meant to be a bargain!” Brigid told him, “I promise!”

Nyx stared down at the brand and then back at Brigid, who had tears in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry.”

Nyx composed himself and walked over to Brigid, taking her in his arms again.

Brigid’s fingertips lightly trailed over the brand, making Nyx hiss in pain.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out,” he told her.

“…Promise?”

Nyx smiled and chuckled lightly. He pressed a kiss to Brigid’s head. “I promise.”

Elain and Iris made their way to the throne room where the last of the petitioners were trickling out.

A few of them stopped and greeted them.

Elain was polite and kind to all of them.

Once everyone was gone, they approached Lucien who sat on the throne with his hand over his eyes.

"Tired, my love?" Elain asked.

Lucien sighed. "You have no idea."

He brightened when he spotted Iris with her. "Hello, sweetheart."

Iris climbed the steps of the dais and held out the flower crown.

"Is that for me?" Lucien asked.

Iris nodded. "Mummy helped me make it."

"The stems kept breaking," Elain explained.

Lucien took off the crown of the High King and took the flower crown. He placed it gently on his head. "It's perfect."

"Now you really look like a High Lord of Spring!" Iris crowed.

Lucien scooped her up and put her in his lap. "Then perhaps we should have one made for you as Princess of Prythian and the Spring Court."

"And one for mummy too!"

Lucien smiled. "Of course. We can't forget mummy."

"Mummy is the most beautiful fae in all of Prythian!"

Elain took Iris from Lucien and pressed kisses all over her face as she giggled.

Lucien never thought he'd have this.

A mate and a child.

There was a knock at the throne room door.

Lucien groaned.

Elain kissed his cheek and said, "We'll leave you to it."

They slipped out the door behind the throne.

As they left, they heard one of the courtiers says, "That's not your normal crown, my lord."

"No, it's not. It's the one my daughter made me," Lucien replied.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hello, darling.”

The pet name made Brigid blush.

“Would you honor me with a dance?” he asked.

Brigid nodded and he led her onto the dancefloor.

His steps were smooth, and it was almost like they were floating.

“You’re the perfect partner,” she told him.

His smirk became downright sinful. “Is that so, princess?”

Brigid blushed. “I meant dance partner.”

“I know. I just like watching you squirm.” He laughed when she glared at him. “My aunt actually taught me. She almost seduced your father simply by dancing with him. If she had, then this would be a lot more awkward.”

Brigid opened her mouth to say something, but someone grabbed her arm and pulled her away from him.

“Get away from her you Illyrian brute!” her father snarled.

“Eris, you really must come up with better insults,” Rhysand said, appearing at the young male’s side.

It finally dawned on her who he was.

This was Nyx Archeron, son of High Lord Rhysand and High Lady Feyre Archeron of the Night Court.

Nyx gave her a sad smile. “Surprise, princess.”

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

Her father confined her to her room for the remainder of the evening.

Brigid was just getting ready for bed when she heard tapping on her balcony door. She turned and saw Nyx crouched on her balcony, the talon of his wing gently tapping on the glass.

Brigid ran over to the door and pulled him inside. “What are you doing here? Someone could have seen you!”

“That’s why I was crouching down.”

She rolled her eyes. “What are you doing here?” she repeated.

“I had to see you before I go back to the Night Court.”

“But why?” Brigid couldn’t understand why he would want anything to do with her considering who her father was.

“Because I feel drawn to you, princess. There’s just something about you. I can’t stay away.”

“My father will kill you.”

Nyx scoffed. “I’d like to see him try.”

There were footsteps outside the door.

“Please. You have to go," she told him.

“I want to see you again.”

“If I say yes, will you leave?”

Nyx nodded.

“Fine! Are you happy now!”

“Immensely, princess.” He turned to leave, and she let out a breath. Nyx opened the balcony door and stretched his wings, getting ready to take off.

He suddenly turned around and strode back over to her. Nyx gently cupped the back of her head in his hand and pulled her into a kiss.

Brigid melted into him instantly.

He pulled back and winked at her. “See you later, princess.” He stepped out onto the balcony and took off into the night.

Brigid wondered what it was like being able to take off and explore whenever you felt like it. She watched until Nyx was just a speck on the horizon. She turned back to her bedroom, shutting the doors behind her.

As she got ready for bed, she kept touching her lips.