I was doing some light re-reading of ACOTAR and once again I'm thinking about Gwyn's family history. There are so many theories out there about who her father could be. About it being Eris. Or Lucien. Or even Tamlin.
While I still don't think her father will play a huge part, and it'll be more about who her grandfather is, something struck me reading those parts of Under the Mountain again.
I've seen so many theories that say that it has to be Tamlin since he was the only "free" High Lord during the Great Rite when Gwyn and Catrin were conceived. Same thing in the theories about it being Lucien.
But not all of the High Lords were trapped UTM. It was only the High Lords who rebelled against Amarantha (which were Day, Summer and Winter) And Rhysand.
The other High Lords and their courts were largely confined to their courts. She only summoned all of them for Feyre's trials and made it forbidden to leave until it was finished.
Which means the possibilities for Gwyn's father is not only between Tamlin, Lucien and Eris (I personally don't think it's either of them) Might as well be someone from the Dawn court. If Sangravha is in the Autumn Court, it could be any of the Vanserra brothers.
(also I want Gwyn to be related to the Vanserra only like a distant cousin and most of all through Lady Autumn's side of the family hehe)
I was just a bit surprised I guess, because I've always seen people saying all of them were stuck but then I realized that wasn't really true.
So my question is, did Sarah change that in later books or has that always been the case? lmao
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Gwyn’s New Year’s resolution was simple, until a man with beautiful hazel eyes walked into her life like he belonged.
Letting him stay should have been easy. Falling for him might have been easier.
If her past wasn’t watching. Waiting. Refusing to let her go.
Modern day- AU.
Part twelve is up on AO3. Read it HERE or down below
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Summary: Azriel is trying.
words: 3665
a/n: Time for a bit of a breather, but I hope you like it!! I've re-written this so many times now that I think I just need to post it. I dunno why this was so hard to write, but it's definitely less angsty than the past three chapters so I hope you enjoy the small moment of fluff! Azriel is finally doing something.
There probably won't be an update next week since I'm traveling a bit, but hopefully I'll be back asap. In my original outline this fic was supposed to be 13 chapters long in total. I don't know what happened lmao but I can say that we are probably halfway done by now, so thank you so much to everyone for staying with me and being so lovely!! I hope you all like this one too <3
Gwyn didn’t go to work the next day.
Or the one after that.
Neither did Nesta or Emerie. Emerie called in sick and Nesta could work from home. Both her friends refused to leave her alone, made sure she got up in the morning and had something to eat. When she looked at her phone with tears in her eyes for the fifth time in as many minutes, they’d taken it from her and told her they’d let her know if anything important came through.
Gwyn didn’t have the strength to protest.
It helped though, to not have constant access to the device. It was just… She didn’t know how to voice that aching need that they had to tell her if Azriel reached out. That she didn’t want to know if Hayden did.
Azriel and her still hadn’t really talked. Gwyn had eventually fallen asleep on the couch that first night. Something restless finally settled within her as they watched some old action movie and whatever played next.
She’d woken up with a headache and stinging eyes, another blanket tucked carefully around her.
Azriel was already gone.
She tried to not think about it. Not too much at least, because Cassian had also left. Both of them were needed at Knight Group on a Monday morning. They had work to do. Just because she couldn’t leave the safety of Nesta’s apartment, it didn’t mean all of them had to stay as well.
On the third day, both Nesta and Emerie had to leave. Gwyn still called in sick. Merrill wouldn’t be happy, there was no one to cover Gwyn’s shift, but it was the least of her problems.
”I’ll be fine,” she’d insisted as Nesta got dressed that morning.
Her friends still refused to leave her alone.
Which was why, on the third day, Cassian stayed with her.
And it was fine. Gwyn liked Cassian—felt safe with him. He still didn’t know every detail of what was going on, but it didn’t stop him from hovering around her protectively.
Even from his place by the dining table—with his laptop open before him—Gwyn felt his watchful gaze. So much so that she had to tell him to stop and focus on whatever work he had to do for the day.
But she couldn’t deny the appreciation blooming inside her chest. How the dread and anxiety melted away just a tiny bit. The knowledge that she wasn’t alone... it meant more than she knew how to put into words.
As Cassian worked, the rhythmic sound of his keyboard clicking gave her a strange sense of comfort. It wasn't enough to stop her wandering thoughts. Gwyn tried to read, but it seemed like no amount of comfort or gratitude could make her focus. Every word written across the pages of her book blurred into unreadable gibberish. All those times she’d felt watched—had that been Hayden? How long had he been watching? How did he find her? Why had he decided to reach out now? What did he want?
“How do you feel about spicy food?” Cassian asked. Gwyn jumped at the sudden sound of his voice, her head snapping toward him as he looked up from his phone.
“Um, I’m not really a fan, weak tummy,” Gwyn admitted bashfully. Cassian hummed deeply, as if in deep thought, before typing something on his phone. ”Why?”
“There’s this great place down by the Sidra,” he answered, still typing. “Their menu is inspired by a lot of Illyrian food, quite spicy and not to everyone's taste, but it’s truly some of the best.”
“Oh... Well if you’re hungry you can get some,” Gwyn told him and glanced over to the clock displayed in the corner of the tv. She hadn’t realised it was well past the time for lunch. She wasn’t hungry, but Cassian probably was. If he wanted to get some food—she wouldn’t deprive him of his favorite. “I can order something for myself later.”
“Az is coming,” Cassian revealed casually and put his phone down again. Gwyn’s heart fluttered. “He’s getting food for us, just wanted to know what you liked.”
That had Gwyn sitting up in an instant. The book in her lap slid off at the sudden movement and landed on the floor with a soft thump.
“What?”
“We should hang out more often Gwynnie.” He didn’t even try to hide his amusement. “I don’t think he’s ever bought me food before.”
“I doubt that’s true,” she replied and leaned down to retrieve her book, mostly so Cassian wouldn’t see the blush spreading across her face.
“Mhm, sure, whatever makes you feel better.”
Heat crawled higher up her neck. She hadn’t been able to sleep properly in days. Couldn’t eat. Couldn’t focus long enough to finish a single chapter of her book.
And somehow, despite everything, she still found herself blushing.
Only because Azriel was bringing lunch.
Gwyn wanted it to stop.
Instead she found herself glancing toward the door for the next fifteen minutes.
Cassian, without a doubt, noticed. He was merciful enough not to comment on it, even if that stupid grin played on his lips the entire time.
When the sharp knock echoed through the apartment, Gwyn had picked at her cuticles enough to make the skin around her thumb bleed. What was wrong with her? They hadn’t even talked about their squabble on the patio. About how he ignored her.
He didn’t even know about Hayden. Didn't know about the parts of her she'd spent years trying to bury.
What if Azriel ignoring her was the best thing that could’ve happened? It wouldn’t be fair to drag him into the wreckage that was her life anyway.
All of it felt so overwhelmingly tangled. It felt impossible to sort one emotion from another. The only thing she knew for certain was that the butterflies in her stomach had picked the wrong time to flutter their wings.
She should tell him. Cassian too. It would probably ease some of the pressure crushing her chest. The possibility of them looking at her differently, though, refused to loosen its grip around her throat. If they knew, their opinion of her would undoubtedly change.
They’d know what Hayden had done to her. How long she had stayed anyway. How many chances she’d given him. How many lies she’d told herself. Pathetic.
Nesta and Emerie were both vocal about how none of it had been her fault. Deep down, Gwyn also knew that.
It didn’t help.
And if Azriel learned about her past... would he even be bringing her lunch?
Perhaps even worse, Gwyn wasn’t sure she’d be able to survive seeing the pity in those beautiful hazel eyes. Gwyn sucked in a shaky breath at the sound of the front door opening and closing. Of shoes being removed and bags rustling.
“Finally,” Cassian groaned and closed his laptop, pushing it away from him. “Took you long enough!”
“Traffic.”
And there he was.
Tall. Broad shouldered. Dressed in dark jeans and a black sweater. Sunglasses pushing back the slightly messy hair and exposing the faint flush across his skin from the cool wind outside. Azriel stepped in carrying two paper bags in one hand and a drink tray in the other. A whiff of food followed him inside—herby and rich—and her stomach rumbled unwillingly.
And yet, the scent of cedar and musk stood out the most. Wrapping delicately around her senses.
His gaze swept across the room, then found hers and stopped.
Almost like it had been searching for her the entire time. Speckles of green and gold observed her with the same concern she’d seen the night she arrived at Nesta’s place. She tried to give him a smile, it came out shaky and weak.
“Hey,” he breathed out softly and let his gaze fall over her again, as if making sure she was still in one piece.
Gwyn didn’t get the chance to overthink the fluttering in her belly. Because Cassian was already on his feet, ripping the bags out of Azriel’s hands and breathing in the aroma, groaning in pure anticipation.
Azriel shot him an annoyed glare and muttered something about “fucking manners.” Cassian happily ignored him and went back to the table so he could spread out the food.
And despite not having an appetite, Gwyn found herself sitting down with them both. Her rumbling stomach betrayed her when she tried to claim she wasn’t hungry. Cassian shoved a plate in her direction, expressing the importance of eating—of taking care of yourself—even if you didn’t feel like it.
He also pointed out that she had indeed skipped breakfast and he wouldn’t let her skip another meal.
“Here,” Azriel said gingerly and pulled the plate away from her, giving her one of the smaller take-away boxes instead. “Try this one—it’s not as spicy as the rest.”
Gwyn tried it and nearly groaned as the flavors exploded across her tongue, the tender meat falling apart perfectly. It was good. Probably some of the best. Just like Cassian had claimed it would be.
Her stomach sang happily as she took another bite. And another. Finally giving it something other than just tea and crumbs of biscuits.
It was so good. So good that she didn’t even mind the mild spice, not until she’d nearly devoured all of it and her mouth was burning. Azriel marked the breath of air she sucked in, trying to cool her tongue, and wordlessly handed her some type of yoghurt as he continued talking to Cassian.
Gwyn blushed, but didn’t waste any time before she shoved some of it down as well.
And as her lunch companions talked about work, Gwyn tried to listen. Even asked some questions so that maybe she would finally understand what they did at Knight Group.
“Rhys grandfather founded the company back in his twenties,” Cassian informed her around a mouthful of food. “He did construction, originally. Just one guy and his truck. Went from building apartments, to office buildings and then hotels. Somewhere down the line he started buying the companies instead of just building things for them.”
“And that’s what you guys do?” Gwyn frowned, still confused and glancing over at Azriel shyly.
“Basically,” Cassian continued. “Rhys’s father expanded it even further and by the time Rhys inherited it—Knight Group was already everywhere. We own parts of other companies. Some we control completely. Others we invest in. Hotels. Real estate. Private jets and resorts. Sport stadiums and arenas. Teams. Investment Firms. You name it, and Knight Group probably owns some part of it.”
“Right.” She nodded. “But what do you two actually do?”
Cassian chuckled and leaned back in his chair.
“I make sure everything runs smoothly.” Azriel snorted at that and Cassian waved him off. “Basically I handle the operations. Logistics. Strategy. The day-to-day headaches.”
Gwyn turned to face Azriel. Waiting for him to continue, and it was nice. To focus on something else entirely. Having lunch with the two of them and discussing everyday subjects. Normal things.
If a multimillion company could be considered normal.
“Legal,” Azriel replied smoothly.
“Oh, like Nesta?”
“I do have a law degree, yes,” he confirmed with a small nod. “But I handle more contracts and security issues.”
It was Cassian’s turn to snort.
“He makes problems disappear.”
“Amren makes them disappear,” Azriel corrected with a lighthearted scoff. “I try to resolve things before they become a problem.”
“Please,” Cassian huffed, mirth dancing in his eyes. “You’ve handled every scandal thrown at us. He knows all the dirty little secrets in our company, Gwynnie. Don’t let him fool you. He is actually terrifying.”
“That’s an exaggeration.”
“Do you not handle scandals?”
“Sometimes.”
“The investigations?”
“Occasionally.”
“The nda’s?”
“Yes.”
”The angry politicians?”
”That’s Mor, actually.”
Gwyn watched the exchange, unable to stop the smile spreading across her lips. The first real one in days. With food in her stomach and her mind occupied by something other than Hayden, the weight crushing her chest eased.
Just a little.
”Do you like it?” she found herself asking, directing her question at Azriel.
”I like figuring things out,” he answered and focused on rearranging the empty containers spread across the table. Almost as if he had accidentally revealed too much without meaning to.
”Like I said earlier,” Cassian said and leaned back in his seat, glancing at Gwyn with a look full of mischief before pointing his fork in Azriel’s direction. “Don’t let him fool you. He loves it.”
“Cassian.”
“He once spent three straight days proving a competitor forged documents because he thought one word looked off,” Cassian told her, ignoring the daggers Azriel shot his way. “Refused to sleep before he figured it out.”
Gwyn blinked.
“Three days?”
“Three.”
“I slept,” Azriel grumbled and when Gwyn looked at him again the top of his ears had a faint pink to them.
“For like four hours,” Cassian laughed.
“Still counts as sleep.”
“Not really.”
“It literally does,” Azriel argued and shot his brother a deadpanned look.
At that, Gwyn let out a soft giggle and pressed her lips together to keep herself from grinning. Cassian moved his fork, pointing it at her instead.
”See,” he exclaimed happily. ”Gwyn agrees with me!”
"I didn't even say anything," she protested, but a full laugh bubbled out of her anyway.
Azriel’s gaze flickered toward her immediately. Something in his expression softened. The tension she'd grown so used to seeing in the lines around his mouth eased ever so slightly.
Gwyn quickly busied herself with another bite of food, letting some of her hair fall across her face.
”You didn’t have to,” Cassian continued without a beat, smirking as he lowered his fork to his plate before shovelling another bite of food into his mouth.
”Whatever,” Azriel scoffed. ”Did you get the chance to talk to Amren yet by the way”
“She’s being a pain in the ass, so no,” Cassian sighed, both of them easily switching back from bickering brothers to business. “I swear I have the utmost respect for the woman but her refusal to have meetings digitally is gonna run this company to the ground.”
“You could go into the office,” Azriel suggested carefully and arranged another set of containers on the table. “If you want to.”
“I promised I’d keep Gwyn company for the day,” Cassian replied casually and shot her an easy smile. “And I’m more terrified of Nes than I am of Amren.”
“I could…” Azriel began and trailed off, clearing his throat lightly before continuing. “I could stay. If that’s okay?”
It took Gwyn a second too long before she realized he’d directed the question at her.
“Oh,” she breathed in surprise as heat spread to her cheeks. “Yeah, okay–yeah, that’s okay.”
Which was how, on the third day, Gwyn suddenly ended up alone with Azriel in Nesta’s apartment.
And unlike Cassian, Azriel joined her on the large couch. Sitting down on the opposite side, but still close enough for her to be surrounded by his scent.
Gwyn had expected things to turn awkward as soon as the door closed behind Cassian.
It wasn’t.
Even when she had to pretend to read. Pretend that she wasn’t completely focused on the fact that they were alone. How it was the first time they’ve ever been well and truly alone together. It wasn’t a bustling restaurant. Not a busy gym. None of their friends were there or just around the corner. She wasn’t at work nor were they standing outside on a patio during a grand art exhibition.
It was just the two of them.
Just like their messages.
It was all she could think about. How familiar it felt, despite the fact that they had never spent time together like this before.
But there were still so many things left unsaid between them. She wanted to understand what had happened. Wanted to figure out how they’d gone from messaging each other daily to nothing. It definitely shouldn’t be one of her priorities at the moment. There were more important things she needed to figure out. She should be going to the police. Perhaps she should’ve been on the run, leaving Velaris and everything behind her. Again.
And yet... That was not what she wanted.
And right now, Azriel was there.
And Gwyn wanted to understand.
“About—”
“I want to—”
They broke the silence at the same time. Gwyn blushed. Again. But so did Azriel.
“You go ahead,” he offered quietly and smiled lightly.
“Right.” She took a deep breath, steadying herself for what she wanted to say. “Well, I wanted to apologize for how I acted the other night. At the gallery. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”
“What?” Azriel gaped, a deep frown forming between his brows. “No, Gwyn. You have nothing to apologize for. You had every right to be upset. I’m the one who needs to apologize.”
“You already did,” she reminded him softly. “I got your message, and I’m sorry I never–”
“Stop, please. Please don’t apologize again,” he interrupted her gently and sat up straighter. She watched his throat bob as he swallowed nervously. “I shouldn’t have ignored you like that. I–that wasn’t fair of me and I... you didn’t deserve that. And I–fuck, I’m not very good at this.” A heavy sigh fell from him as he looked between them, his jaw clenching and unclenching. “But I am sorry, Gwyn. Truly. It was a shitty thing to do.”
Gwyn nodded once, twice, gnawing at her lower lip nervously before taking another deep breath to steady herself.
“Why did you?” she asked quietly and watched as his body tensed at the question. She swallowed the doubt creeping up in her. “I mean, I... I really liked talking to you. I thought maybe you did too and—did I do something?”
“No,” Azriel replied without a beat, shaking his head. “No, Gwyn, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Then what happened?”
Silence stretched through the spacious apartment and Gwyn hoped he couldn’t hear how loud her heart was beating. Azriel scrubbed a tired hand down his face and leaned back against the couch, averting his gaze from her and looking out through the large windows instead. As if an answer would appear out there amidst the clouds.
For a moment, Gwyn was certain he wouldn’t answer.
But then—
“I don’t know,” he admitted with a heavy sigh.
Gwyn blinked in surprise.
“You don’t know?”
He sighed again, squeezing his eyes shut before letting his head fall back against the couch. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he sat quiet and searched for the right words to say. None seemed to find him. Instead a quiet curse slipped from beneath his breath.
“I don’t know how to explain it, and I know that’s not good enough.” Azriel ran another hand over his face, still unable to look at her. “But it’s the truth.”
And perhaps Gwyn should’ve been annoyed by that. That he had nothing more to say, but somehow it said enough. For the time being at least.
For a long moment, she simply watched him. The restless movement of his hands, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly at the scars across one of his knuckles. How his shoulders remained tense, as though he was bracing for something. The way his jaw clenched hard enough for the muscle to tick beneath his skin.
When he finally looked at her, it was almost hesitant. Like he wasn’t sure she’d still be there when he did. It dawned on her then, seeing what she could've sworn was fear lingering in his hazel eyes, that Azriel was perhaps as lost as she was in all this.
Still, he stayed. Sat with the discomfort. Tried anyway.
Gwyn gave him a soft smile. Because how could she blame him for not having the right words, when she didn’t know how to tell him about what was really going on with her?
Azriel surprised her when he suddenly spoke again. “You make things feel... easy.”
And at that, her heart skipped a beat. No one had ever used that word when talking about her before.
“Is that a bad thing?” she asked. Nothing about her life was easy. A sour taste rose in the back of her throat, because he wouldn’t be saying that if he knew the truth.
“No,” he replied and a humorless chuckle followed. “It’s fucking terrifying.”
“Yeah,” she breathed out in agreement. ”It is.”
Neither of them said anything after that. But the silence that followed felt lighter than before. Azriel was right. It was terrifying. Allowing herself to open up her heart again. To look at him and know that he was the reason for the flutters filling her stomach.
Dangerous. Dangerous. Dangerous.
Every part of her kept screaming at her to run.
Hayden had found her. Had watched her and followed. It was terrifying.
Yet, sitting there with Azriel—nothing had ever been easier.
Just being with him felt more comforting than any speech or explanation ever could. The tension she'd been carrying for days slowly began to loosen its grip.
Little by little.
Until her eyelids started feeling heavy.
She blinked, fighting the yawn threatening to come out. She tried to focus on the news Azriel had decided to put on. Blinked again. Moved position so she was sitting up a little more. Shook her legs to get her blood flowing.
It was pointless.
Her sleepless nights were catching up to her. At the first sign of her body relaxing, sleep sunk its claws into her and pulled her under.
“It’s okay, you can sleep.” Azriel’s soft voice wrapped around her like silk, and she wasn’t sure if it was part of a dream or not. There was a brief pause before something warm settled over her shoulders. A blanket. The next words added another layer of warmth. “I’m here.”
Gwyn’s New Year’s resolution was simple, until a man with beautiful hazel eyes walked into her life like he belonged.
Letting him stay should have been easy. Falling for him might have been easier.
If her past wasn’t watching. Waiting. Refusing to let her go.
Modern day- AU.
Part eleven is up on AO3. Read it HERE or down below
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Summary: Azriel is trying to figure everything out and Gwyn is trying not to think too much.
words: 4739
a/n: I think this might be the longest chapter so far, but I've thrown in some Azriel POV to start it off with because it's time for you to see what's going on in his little head again haha. Thank you so much for the love on the previous chapter, I'm is relieved that that you guys liked it after being so nervous!!!
This chapter is not as heavy I don't think, but there are some parts in the second half that have the same type of trigger warnings as the last chapter. There is a specific part after the break off that is in italics that contains brief descriptions of sexual abuse, so if you're uncomfortable with that, just skip those two small paragraphs.
(Also, I did write this before the World Cup started its just a coincidence its happening as this chapter is posted lmao I do want to make it clear-I'm European, so they are watching football as in soccer, but I refuse to call it that!!!! So football it is haha)
As always, I hope you like this one and I can't wait to hear your thoughts. I would love to know what you think is gonna happen next and/or what you want to happen next haha <3
“Ah, c’mon, that’s a fucking penalty!” Cassian groaned at the tv, gesturing wildly towards the screen.
Azriel barely hummed in acknowledgement. For once, he was completely uninterested by the match being played. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to pay attention to which player scored or which team was in the lead. Velaris United against Hewn City—usually he’d be glued to the tv.
Sunday football, it had been their thing ever since they were kids. Him and his brothers. When things were rough, they’d always have football. Just the three of them, teenagers stealing beers from Rhys’s father and locking the door to the basement so no one could bother them.
Even twenty years later, Cassian still claimed he could’ve gone pro if he hadn’t destroyed his knee at seventeen.
But a lot of things had changed since those days in the basement. Rhysand had gotten married. Cassian would’ve married Nesta the first day he met her if she had agreed.
The three of them now sat at the helm of Knight Group, one of the largest holding companies in the country. Originally inherited by Rhys, ownership had eventually been split between them. Rhys still held the majority shares, but Azriel and Cassian each owned twenty percent of the empire they’d helped expand.
All three of them were plenty busy.
Still, they tried to make time for Sunday football. Even if one of them couldn’t make it. Mostly Rhys, who seemed to think that being separated from his wife would cause him to suddenly drop dead. Though, the same could be said for Cassian seeing as they were currently in Nesta’s apartment, watching the game, and Nesta wasn’t even home.
Hadn’t been since the day before. Not since before Feyre’s art exhibition.
Cassian had been insufferable all day.
“Did you see her in that dress last night?” He had complained. “It’s a fucking crime I didn’t get to take it off her.”
Azriel ignored him.
But could not ignore the heavy knot in his stomach. Nesta hadn’t come back home last night. Still hadn’t made it home.
She’d spent the night at Gwyn’s place.
And that... Azriel could not stop thinking about Gwyn. About how breathtaking she’d looked in her blue dress and her long hair flowing freely down her back. How that dress had hugged her curves in all the right places and fueled every lewd thought he’d ever had.
But, more importantly, Azriel could not stop thinking about the heavy gloom that seemed to hover around her. How her teal eyes had lacked that spark that made his heart flutter. He’d watched as she greeted his family, how the smile she’d given them looked robotic almost.
And when she stalked off without a warning, suddenly looking over at him from across the room—only for one brief second—something in him had shattered. Two weeks had gone by since she messaged him and he’d left it unanswered. Tried to keep his distance. It was slowly killing him.
He hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to stop talking to her. It took him by surprise. How badly he missed her. The amount of times he had picked up his phone and almost written back. It was risky. To feel so connected to someone when they hadn’t even spent that much time together.
Azriel found himself unable to stay away any longer, especially when she’d left the main gallery looking so distressed. Mor had been in the midst of some story about the girl she was dating and he had wordlessly walked off, following Gwyn… to discover her talking to Eris.
Eris fucking Vanserra.
Of all people.
He’d frozen, hiding in the shadows and watched the interaction unfold. They’d been close, talking as if they shared some history.
Something sharp and ugly had twisted deep in Azriel’s chest at that. Something dangerously close to jealousy and the realization had hit him hard enough to make him scowl. Ridiculous. It was all so ridiculous. He had no right to feel any type of way about her connection to Eris. Not after deliberately ignoring her—basically running from her at the gym.
Still, the feeling simmered beneath his skin.
But then Eris said something and Gwyn had visibly flinched, and Azriel had been one second from stepping in.
Only Lucien’s sudden arrival had stopped him.
Something felt wrong. It bothered him that he couldn’t figure out what or why she seemed so shaken. Why someone who usually carried herself with such quiet strength seemed to have lost that spark ever since he last saw her.
And Azriel should’ve turned around and gone back to Mor, to the rest of his family, to Feyre’s grand exhibition. Should’ve kept his distance.
He didn’t.
Couldn’t.
And had followed her out to the patio.
She’d been angry. Rightfully so. And he hadn’t been able to stop himself from asking about Eris. He was an idiot. Not only for that, but for everything. He hadn’t meant to upset her further. Definitely hadn’t meant to make her cry. It broke his heart and it took everything in him to stand back.
Until he didn’t.
It was that moment Azriel couldn’t stop replaying in his head. Over and over again. He’d been so careful about keeping his distance. About making sure there were no unwanted touches between them.
The moment his rough fingers brushed against her delicate soft skin—he’d known he messed up. Pure desperation had driven him to grab her, to make her stay. To keep her close enough to fix what he’d already ruined.
The expression on her face would haunt him forever. The fear written so clearly in her beautiful eyes.
“Let go of me. Please.”
Soft. Quiet. Terrified.
Just the memory of her voice made him feel sick to his stomach. He’d released her immediately—not fast enough—and Gods, he would never be able to forgive himself for it. For making whatever scars she carried with her resurface. For making things worse when she was clearly already feeling overwhelmed.
He didn’t know exactly what those scars were, but he could guess. Could recognize it. It made his blood boil just imagining someone hurting her.
And Azriel had made it all worse.
Asshole.
He was such a fucking asshole.
Nesta had taken her home after that and Azriel hadn’t been able to find any words to stop them. Her.
Still hadn’t been able to hours later. Alone in his too large apartment that was too silent, sleep refused to come to him. Wide awake, guilt and shame burned through him and no matter what—Az could not stop replaying their exchange over and over again.
Even his cat, Skugga, had wanted nothing to do with him. Had only hissed lightly when he’d tried to pet him and sneaked off to some secluded corner. Not that Azriel could blame him.
He’d spent hours writing and re-writing several messages to Gwyn.
In the end, he’d only managed two words.
I’m sorry.
Pathetic, really.
It wasn’t enough. Not near enough. They needed to talk more. He’d apologise properly then. For ignoring her. For making her cry. For grabbing her the way he did.
Though, Azriel wasn’t sure Gwyn would ever want to speak to him ever again.
He wouldn’t blame her either.
”You don’t get to ignore me after making me like you.”
That’s what she’d told him. How someone as wonderful as Gwyn could even like him to begin with… He had no idea. It had stunned him to his core when those words fell from her lips. Caused a crack in his carefully constructed walls. Hope, fickle and delicate, trickled through the exposed opening—it terrified him beyond measure.
“Yo, bro,” Cassian said suddenly and whacked him across the chest. “Did you hear a word I just said?”
Azriel blinked and became aware of his brother watching him closely, dark brows knitted together in deep thought. In front of them, the game had gone into halftime, showing highlights from the first half and the commentators giving their expertise. Velaris United had apparently scored a goal right before the whistle.
“Sorry,” Azriel mumbled and glanced at his phone. Gwyn hadn’t replied. Which, fair enough, he deserved her silence. “I’m just tired.”
“Alright,” Cassian sighed heavily and leaned forward to put his bottle of beer down. “What did you do?”
“What?”
Cassian rolled his eyes.
“You’ve been miserable for the past two weeks,” he began, looking at him knowingly. “More than usual.”
“Maybe you’ve just been more insufferable than usual,” Azriel shot back dryly. Cassian didn't bat an eye, only continued as if Az had said nothing.
“And last night, Nes took Gwyn home early because she was upset and also stayed the night.” The image of Gwyn’s tearstreaked face flashed before him again. Azriel clenched his jaw hard enough to hurt. The shame flooding his veins was excruciating. “Also, Nesta mentioned she’s been rather worried about Gwyn—says she’s been distant for the past two weeks... You see what I’m getting at?”
Azriel refused to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Cassian didn’t need it. He only hummed gleefully before repeating his earlier question. “Mhm, so... what did you do?”
“Nothing,” he grumbled. Which, that was part of the problem, wasn’t it?
He’d ignored her and it had upset her. Then when he’d tried to speak to her again, he’d done too much and hurt her.
Fuck.
“Az, c’mon, talk to me.”
“There is nothing to say,” Azriel started and then trailed off. Because there wasn’t much he could really say, but also, there was too much. He didn’t know where to start.
Instead he let his head fall back to rest on top of the couch with a heavy sigh. “I fucked up.”
There was a slight pause, the commentary from the tv filling the silence between them. Azriel was fully prepared to face whatever taunting gibe his brother would throw at him. Was ready for the ‘I told you so’s and jokes about him never opening up.
However, he wasn’t prepared for the way Cassian’s grin slowly faded and was replaced by genuine concern.
“Do you like her?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Azriel replied, focusing his attention on a small crack in the ceiling rather than his brother’s curious eyes burning into him. Admitting anything out loud—he couldn’t. Even if Az knew that there was really only one answer.
“You should talk to her,” Cassian suggested softly.
“I know,” he sighed again and ran both hands through his hair. If he could rip it out, he would. At least then his headache could be blamed on something more tangible. “I know.”
“For what it’s worth,” Cassian said and reached over to pat his knee. “I think she likes you too. You should let her.”
And fuck, if only it was that easy.
But Azriel didn’t know how to let anyone in. Not after being born into neglect and witnessing his father’s violence. Not after the incident with his biological brothers. Not after spending years convinced he was always the odd one out.
Not after being betrayed by the one he thought he’d grow old with; having his heart be broken into a million pieces.
Suddenly the sound of keys rattling in the front door echoed through the spacious apartment. Cassian straightened next to him. His grin was back as he muttered a pleased, “finally.”
Azriel glanced toward the door and immediately went still.
Nesta stepped inside first, carrying an overnight bag in one arm and the other wrapped around Gwyn’s slumped shoulders. His stomach dropped.
Something was wrong.
Terribly so.
Next to him, Cassian fell silent as they took in Gwyn’s broken frame. Dressed in a long oversized sweatshirt and a pair of black tights, she looked smaller than Az had ever seen her. Her long coppery hair hung loose around her face, tangled in some places as if she’d spent the last several hours tugging at it.
The freckles scattered across her cheeks and nose stood out starkly against skin that had gone far too pale.
Worst of all was the hollow look in her swollen, red-rimmed eyes. The absence of her brilliant smile. It made his skin prickle with unease.
Behind them, Emerie followed them inside, also carrying a bag and wearing an expression that matched the grim atmosphere around the trio.
Azriel’s body moved before his mind could catch up and he stood abruptly.
But Gwyn’s sad gaze flickered toward him and he froze before he could get any closer to her. She quickly looked away again, her slumped shoulders shrinking in even further.
“What happened?” Cassian was the one to break the silence, also standing and already making his way over to them. Nesta held up a hand to stop him, subtly shaking her head. Cassian stopped, looking as lost as Azriel felt.
Was this his fault?
No.
No, this had to be something else.
And yet… guilt clawed at him.
He could only watch as Nesta and Emerie guided her inside and disappeared down the hallway, to where he knew Nesta’s guestroom was located.
Cassian turned to look at him with wide eyes, full of concern and an equal amount of confusion. Azriel fell back to the couch, his pulse racing and head swirling.
Whatever had happened, it was bad. Gwyn’s hollow eyes were enough of a confirmation, but the way Nesta and Emerie had circled her—protective and watchful—made every possible explanation his mind conjured feel worse than the last.
The guilt suddenly faded next to a cold sense of dread spreading through him. He didn’t like it. The lack of light in her eyes. It wasn’t right. Something in his chest tightened painfully as he thought of the way she’d shrunk back as she saw them. Like she was trying to make herself disappear.
Nesta and Emerie eventually came back out into the livingroom. No Gwyn in sight.
It made his heart sink even further.
Cassian was immediately back on his feet again, reaching for Nesta as soon as he saw her and pulling her into his arms. She melted against him with a heavy sigh.
“What the hell happened?” he asked and looked between his girlfriend, Emerie and the direction they’d come from. “Is she okay?”
“Gwyn’s staying with me for a while,” was all Nesta said. Cassian pulled her away from his chest and held her at arms length.
“Yeah, okay, but what happened?”
“I…” Nesta began and looked at Emerie who shrugged, seemingly as lost for words as her friend. “It’s not our story to tell.”
“Is she okay?” Azriel’s throat felt dry as he spoke and he had to clear his throat. All three of them turned their attention to him and the guilt pushed its way back once again. Gwyn’s face as he’d grabbed her last night flashed before him and the way Nesta had stared him down after interrupting.
“Do you even care?” Her words cut into him sharp and cold.
He deserved that.
But...
“Yes,” he replied, holding her scrutinizing gaze with surprising cool. Nesta raised a brow at him, clearly unimpressed by his actions for the past two weeks. Azriel wasn’t very happy with himself either. It didn’t really matter at the moment though. He could only think of Gwyn currently on her own in the guestroom just down the hall.
He cared.
Far more than he should probably.
Something in Nesta’s gaze softened eventually and she ran a tired hand through her tangled braid.
“She’s not doing great right now,” she told them. A sad shadow passed over her eyes, replacing the ice that had been in them just moments ago. “She can tell you everything herself when she’s ready, but... I’m worried.”
“What can we do?” Cassian asked.
“Honestly, I don’t know.”
“Is it bad?”
Nesta exchanged another look with Emerie before nodding slowly.
“She made us promise not to tell you anything,” Nesta closed her eyes, shaking her head as if she was trying to determine what to do next. “I can’t break that trust. Not with this. Just... Something happened today and I’m scared that she’s in danger. Real danger.”
“Nes—”
“No,” she cut off Cassian immediately. “That’s all we can tell you right now. Please don’t force me to break that promise. I know how it looks and how it sounds, but right now Gwyn needs to know that she can trust us and that she’s safe. I won’t take that from her. So please, can you help me fix the pull-out couch in the office? Emerie is also staying the night.”
Silence fell between the four of them and Azriel felt the air leave his lungs. Real danger? What the hell had happened since they left the gallery?
Nobody spoke for a long moment.
But Nesta marked the worry building within him.
“Az, just so you know… ” Her voice was softer than before. Softer than he’d ever heard her. “This isn’t about you. Whatever happened between you two, this isn't that.”
Azriel wasn’t sure that made him feel any better.
۶ৎ۶ৎ۶ৎ
“Get on your fucking knees.”
Gwyn barely had time to react before a hand grabbed a fistful of her hair and forced her down. Pain shot through her joints as she hit the floor, the soft carpet doing nothing to lessen the impact. She tried to pull away, but the grip only tightened.
A familiar sound cut through the room. Metal sliding against leather. A zipper sliding open. Cruel eyes met hers, lips curled back into malicious smirk.“Let’s see if your mouth can be useful for once.”
Gwyn jolted awake with a breathless gasp.
Her heart was hammering inside her chest as she frantically looked around the room, trying to ground herself back into reality. Taking in her surroundings. The large bookshelf. The silk sheets caressing her hot skin. The distinct and calming scent of lavender and sage.
Nesta’s guestroom.
Just a dream.
She placed a hand over her racing heart, rubbing soft circles on her chest in an attempt to calm it.
“Just a dream,” Gwyn repeated quietly to herself and focused her attention on the book titles she could make out lined across the shelf.
Pride and Prejudice. Jane Eyre. Persuasion. Rebecca. North and South.
The familiar titles grounded her more effectively than just counting her breaths. Brought her racing pulse back down into its normal rhythm. How typical of Nesta to keep those books stored in her guestroom.
Gwyn would bet her last paycheck Nesta had deliberately put them there to ensure anyone staying with her eventually learned to appreciate the classics.
The thought almost made her smile.
But the scent of lilies still clung to the edges of her mind, thick and suffocating. It sat like a heavy cloak around her. Gwyn swore she could still feel the burn on her scalp. Only a dream... but once it had been real.
And the flowers at her door had also been real. The unknown number. It had all been real. Hayden knew where she lived. Knew where she worked. Had watched her. How long?
Gwyn wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Didn’t want the last three years to be tainted by him. But she had been so incredibly stupid to think she was free. He’d once told her she would always be his—she should’ve known better than to think he’d just let her go.
Her skin crawled as his cruel laughter filled her mind and she flung the duvet off her clammy body and jumped out of bed. The room spun around her, the walls quickly closing in, and her breath turned raged.
Trapped.
She felt so fucking trapped.
Trapped in her own skin. Trapped in Hayden’s violent games. Trapped in an endless nightmare.
She stumbled out of the guestroom on trembling legs in search of... something. Gwyn didn’t know. Water. Air. Anything that would stop the crushing pressure building inside her chest.
Nesta’s apartment was dark and quiet. One of the floorboards creaked softly beneath her bare feet as she moved into the kitchen. The refrigerator gave off a low humming sound. Somewhere outside, in the distance, a car hoonked.
Gwyn clung to all of it desperately. The normalcy of it. The normal sounds. Safe sounds.
Maybe things weren’t as bad as she thought. Maybe Hayden just wanted to talk? The flowers could’ve just been his way of trying to reach out. To apologize. Simple flowers. The text message didn’t have to mean anything, maybe he didn’t even realize his number didn’t show up in any search engine.
He’d always said she was too dramatic—always overreacting—and wouldn’t it just make sense that she’d overreacted now?
But… no.
Gwyn knew deep in her bones that she wasn’t overreacting. Knew that any explanation her mind came up with came from the desire of making the situation manageable. Less terrifying.
She knew, better than most, exactly what Hayden Solder was capable of. Had known it since the first time he slapped her. Since the last time he beat her so horribly, she’d barely escaped with her life intact.
And now, Nesta and Emerie knew just how bad it was as well. Every ugly and humiliating part of it. They hadn’t judged her. There had been no anger or disappointment.
Just fierce and unconditional support. As always.
They hadn’t told her she was being dramatic. They had been the ones trying to convince her to go to the police. Had refused to let her spend the night alone in her apartment. Nesta had packed her bag while Emerie shoved the flowers into the trash and ripped the card apart.
They’d held her as she cried and made a list of the next steps they needed to take. It brought fresh tears to her eyes thinking about it—how they’d included themselves in every step. Reassuring her over and over again that she wasn’t alone.
Her friends still wanted her to go to the police, but Gwyn couldn’t think that far yet. It was the most reasonable thing to do. Obviously.
But she had no strength left to tell anyone else her story. Not yet.
Which was why she’d begged Nesta and Emerie to not tell anyone else either. She’d known Cassian would be at Nesta’s apartment when they arrived. Gwyn didn’t want him to know. Didn’t want him to look at her differently. Couldn’t handle the shame of it all. But seeing Azriel there as well… it had nearly broken what little remained of her composure. Her eyes had been drawn to him the moment she stepped inside. As if some part of her had known he’d be there as well.
Then he’d been on his feet. Moving half a step toward her before he stopped himself. But his eyes never left her. For one awful moment Gwyn had expected them to be full of pity and disgust, but there had been none of that. Only concern. Worry. Sadness.
And it was strange. It didn’t make much sense. That the only thing she could think about was what would’ve happened if he hadn’t stopped.
Would he have wrapped those strong arms around her? Would she have let him?
It was a dangerous thought.
And ridiculous.
So utterly ridiculous that Gwyn scoffed at herself as she ran a tired hand over her face.
She really was losing her damn mind, wasn’t she?
Moonlight spilled through the large windows in the kitchen, bathing the shiny countertops in a pale silver light. Gwyn grabbed the first glass she could find and filled it with water. Her hands still trembled badly enough that some of it splashed over the rim and dropped down her arm.
She drank anyway.
One large sip.
Then another, before gulping down the whole glass in one go. The cool water helped her overheated body calm down. Just a little.
Not enough for her to be able to go back to sleep. But enough for her to finally get a proper breath of air, and that’s when she noticed that the silver glow didn’t only come from the moon. A small sliver of the glow came from the living room.
Someone else was awake.
And as she rounded the corner a pair of beautiful hazel eyes immediately met hers. A small shiver slipped down her back.
Azriel was still there.
She wasn’t sure what surprised her more. The fact that he hadn’t left or that he spoke first.
“Hey,” he said in a breathless voice, sitting up and running a hand through his already tousled hair.
“Hi.”
Or maybe what surprised her the most was the fact that she didn’t hesitate to join him on the couch.
And if anyone asked, she wouldn’t be able to say what made her sit down.
Azriel let his gaze wander over her, as if checking to make sure she wasn’t physically hurt at least. The sleeping shorts Nesta had packed for her were thankfully long enough to not rise too far up her thighs as she sat down. Gwyn still reached over to grab a blanket to cover herself up a bit as she pulled her knees up to her chest. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized there were more blankets than usual laid out before her. The pillow resting where Azriel had been lying down just moments ago didn't belong with the other decorative ones
He’d stayed.
Was going to sleep on the couch.
She didn’t dare to think about why.
“Are you—”
“Please don’t ask me if I’m okay,” she cut him off immediately and hated the way her voice cracked. She closed her eyes to prevent them from blurring. “I can’t–I don’t want to talk about it.”
Low music from whatever was playing on the tv filled the silence between them. There were so many things she’d wanted to say to him. All of it seemed pointless now. Secondary to everything else.
And yet, she still wanted to understand what had happened.
It seemed silly.
It was silly.
How badly Gwyn had missed him. They barely knew each other. It shouldn’t have brought her any comfort to see him again. Not after how they’d left things on the patio. Her heart didn’t seem to care though.
Dangerous, a small voice whispered in the back of her head.
Yes, she agreed quietly. It was dangerous. To let her heart open up while she was so vulnerable. Foolish to allow herself to want someone when she didn’t even know all of him. She’d made that mistake once and paid for it in the worst ways.
Hayden had been kind to her too. At the start. She’d already been too deep in it all when she realized it had only been a mask.
But Azriel wasn’t Hayden...
Fuck, she really shouldn’t be thinking about any of that.
“Gwyn?”
She blinked her eyes open and met his concerned frown.
Two weeks ago—hell, even two days ago—she would’ve tried to convince herself that she was normal. Might have lingered on the tiny blush across his cheeks. The way his hair was sticking out from the top of his head in different directions. How the dark tattoos inked along his arms seemed to tell a story. She might’ve even been able to appreciate the fact that his pants were folded neatly on top of one of the armchairs. Might’ve sneaked a small look of his bare thighs after the blanket slid off him as he sat up.
Oh, Gwyn desperately wanted to pretend that everything was fine. That the only reason the two of them were awake in the middle of the night was because they’d hadn’t been able to stop talking. That they’d been having a simple movie night, laughing and getting to know each other.
Wanted her biggest problem to be Azriel’s silence over text and their stupid awkward conversation on the patio.
“Can we just…” She took a slow breath. “Can we just sit here?”
“Yeah,” Azriel replied with a short nod, never letting his gaze fall from her. “We can do that.”
She tried to give him a small smile, but wasn’t sure she succeeded. Azriel didn’t comment on it. Didn’t ask any other questions. Didn’t push.
He simply sat with her.
Just like she’d asked.
For now, that was enough. Enough to pretend that everything wasn’t falling apart.
And Gwyn turned toward the tv, nodding slightly at the screen.
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I realized something that's been irking me about the way [Insert a certain ship name here] talks about Azriel.
I'm not sure if this is their intent, but the way they always emphasize Azriel's kindness towards Elain and attach a special meaning to it makes it seem like Azriel isn't a kind person in general?
Like it's giving "Doberman boyfriend who's only nice to her". Which is just... inaccurate.
Azriel is canonically kind to many characters, especially females, in the series. This is a non-exhaustive list off the top of my head:
He's so encouraging and understanding when teaching Feyre to fly in WAR. He gets her rare paint from the Continent.
He's so gentle and caring with Nesta in HOFAS when he's trying to get her to take off the Mask. And in the HOFAS bonus chapter, he reassures her that she would be a good mother despite her own upbringing. He gets her a reading light for Solstice.
He's mindful and considerate with the priestesses during Valkyrie training. The fact that he even agrees to train them despite everything else that he has going on is kind. He's very aware of their boundaries and respects them.
He's kind and supportive to Gwyn when he agrees to give her extra dagger lessons.
AND he is kind to Elain. Of course, I get wanting to emphasize the kind moments of your ship as romantic, but then denying any other kindness could also be romantic feels... Off. Kindness from a kind character isn't inherently romantic.
Azriel is someone who is kind with those he cares for. Romantically or otherwise.
He specifically is said to be sensitive to the treatment of females because of his mother.
Like I said, I could be misreading it, but that's how it comes off to me. Not just Them™️ either because I often see people reduced Azriel to the Shadow Daddy Dom character elsewhere. And it's sad, because he has so much more depth than that.
Gwyn’s New Year’s resolution was simple, until a man with beautiful hazel eyes walked into her life like he belonged.
Letting him stay should have been easy. Falling for him might have been easier.
If her past wasn’t watching. Waiting. Refusing to let her go.
Modern day- AU.
Part ten is up on AO3. Read it HERE or down below
Tumblr masterlist
Summary: Parts of Gwyn's past is revealed.
words: 2660
a/n: Alright, this is probably the heaviest chapter of the story so far, and likely the heaviest overall. Our girl Gwyn is not having a good time. As always, I'm a little nervous to post this one, but I really appreciate all your comments and support. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one!<3
A lot of Gwyn's past is finally revealed in this chapter, so I do want to include some trigger warnings:
-Domestic violence
-Physical abuse/violence
-Sexual coercion and brief references to sexual violence
-Emotional abuse and manipulation
-Anxiety/panic attack
Most of these moments appear in flashbacks, which are written in italics. So if you'd prefer to skip, just skip those sections. Take care of yourselves<3
The bouquet slipped from Gwyn’s hands and landed on the floor with a dull thud. One of the lilies snapped from the impact, white petals scattering against the wood. Around her, Nesta and Emerie said something. She could hear their voices, not enough to put the words together though—both of them too muffled under the roaring in her head.
All Gwyn could do was stare at the flowers. Stare at the card that confirmed everything she had tried to deny. The sweet and flowery scent crawled into her lungs, thick and suffocating, and it was impossible to block out every memory that came with it.
There had been so many flowers. Too many.
At first, Gwyn’s belly had swarmed with butterflies.
The small bell above the door chimed softly, announcing a new customer’s entrance. The diner had been busy all morning, even worse during lunch hours, but was slowly calming down. Gwyn hadn’t been able to sit down and rest her feet since her shift started. Blisters had already formed under her feet a long time ago. It had been a terrible idea to wear her new sneakers that morning.
She finally got the chance to take a break, only to be disturbed, and she couldn’t stop the groan that fell from her lips. Annoyed, she plastered on her most charming smile—the one that gave her the most tips—and turned around to face whoever had entered.
Beautiful honey brown eyes, full of amusement, met her teal ones. Gwyn’s face burned and she wiped her hands on her apron before brushing the loose strands from her ponytail behind her ears. Praying silently that she didn’t look as tired as she felt.
“Hayden,” she breathed out, “Hi.”
A big smile stretched across his face as he took in her flustered appearance. Gods, he was so handsome. With his windswept hair falling perfectly across his forehead and deliciously muscular body standing tall and wide before her.
”Bad time?” he chuckled as he walked up the counter. Gwyn quickly shook her head, the smile she had forced before now true and bright.
“Not at all,” she beamed and pressed her lips together in an attempt to hold back her smile at least a little bit. It had only been a month since they met for the first time. Since he had waltzed right in and set a swarm of butterflies free in her stomach.
A month since he had started showing up every day, ordering the same cup of coffee and lingering far longer than any other customer—just so he could talk to her. Smooth and charming and utterly captivating.
Gwyn had fallen immediately, and when he’d finally asked her on a date a week ago—she had agreed embarrassingly fast. Catrin would’ve laughed herself sick from how painfully obvious she’d been.
“Good,” Hayden smiled easily and presented her with a small bouquet of flowers Gwyn hadn’t even realised he’d been hiding behind his back. “Because I wanted to surprise you.”
Handsome, charming and kind Hayden. Her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. People at the diner turned to look at them, and perhaps she imagined it, but Gwyn swore jealousy swam in their eyes as they ogled Hayden and his sweet gesture.
Gwyn wanted to shout from the rooftops that he was hers.
She didn’t anymore.
Could barely stomach the idea that she had once felt that way. It felt like a lifetime ago, and yet she remembered it all so clearly. Every sweet gesture. Every charming smile and his encouragement.
Only two months after their first date, Gwyn had moved in with him.
She had opened up about her goal of earning a bachelor's degree in English and her dream of publishing a novel one day. About her insecurities of starting university at twenty-three. Of being older than everyone else. Of not having enough money.
Had even told him about the life she’d lived after the loss of her mom and sister. The path of destruction she’d ended up on. The guilt. The loneliness.
Hayden had immediately offered her to move in with him. Convinced her to let him help her.
”You don’t have to pay any rent. You’re my girl, I want to wake up next to you every day. It’s a win-win.”
He had made it all so easy. Smiled so easily. Gwyn had smiled back. Had not questioned anything.
”Gwyn!”
Suddenly Nesta stood in front of her, physically shaking her out of her stupor with a steady grip of her shoulders. Gwyn blinked and only then realized her cheeks were wet with tears.
”Throw them out,” she whispered and her voice trembled in line with the rest of her body. Nesta frowned and tightened her hold, trying to keep Gwyn grounded. An impossible task when one part of her was back in the past. When something inside her had cracked wide open, allowing buried memories to rush violently to the surface.
”Who is Balthazar?"
Gwyn stopped her humming and glanced up from her textbook. Soft piano music filled the large apartment around her, calming her anxious thoughts as the deadline for her assignment came closer.
Hayden stood across the table from her. Dressed immaculately as always in his finely pressed shirt and pants for work. The complete opposite to Gwyn in her sweatpants and stained t-shirt. Her greasy hair in a messy bun, half of it up and half of it down.
“What?” she asked and let out a soft chuckle. “A guy from class.”
“Why are you talking to him?”
“What do you mean? We’re in the same class,” Gwyn said and the pen she’d been twirling between her fingers stilled when she noticed Hayden had her phone in one of his hands. “Did you look through my phone?”
Something dark passed over his eyes at that. It had her shrinking back briefly before she scowled at him. ”You have no right to do that.”
Hayden didn’t back down. Ignored her entirely as he glared at her accusingly.
”Are you cheating on me?”
“Are you serious?” Gwyn gaped at him and stood up so swiftly she knocked over her cup of tea, spilling it all over her books. “Shit.”
“Answer the question!” His loud outburst sent vibrations through her bones and Gwyn froze in the midst of trying to rescue all of her notes. When she met his stormy gaze, she forced herself to swallow the lump forming in her throat.
“Of course I’m not cheating on you, H,” she told him slowly. “He’s a friend. We study together. A bunch of us.”
“I don’t see you texting anyone else this much,” he shot back at her coldly and gestured to her phone still in his possession. “Is that why you’re always at the library? All those late nights studying, you’re just fucking someone else, huh?”
“What’s gotten into you?” Gwyn asked and searched his eyes for a hint of that warm honey brown she loved so much. There was none. “I’m not cheating on you! He is just a friend, and he—”
“Don’t fucking lie to me!” Hayden roared at her. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
“No, Hayden.” She shook her head, taking half a step toward him. He reared back, disgust clearly written across his face, and something broke inside her at the sight. At the rage in his voice. ”I-I don’t think that at all. Balthazar is just a good friend. I promise.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he is,” he sneered. Sarcasm and disbelief dropping off every word.
Gwyn blinked away the sudden tears.
”Hayden, please, what’s going on?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead Gwyn’s eyes widened as he threw her phone across the room and stormed off, slamming the front door behind him as he left the apartment.
Hayden had returned later that night, smelling of alcohol and cigarettes as he crawled into bed. He’d held her close, whispered apologies and promised he would pay to have her broken phone fixed. Had blamed his cheating ex for the paranoia that sometimes took control of him. Had told Gwyn that he was just scared, hurt, and how much he loved her.
How he never wanted to lose her.
Gwyn had believed him. Understood how those insecurities could sometimes cloud someone’s better judgment.
Had understood it the second time he looked through her phone.
And the third time.
The fourth time though, she told him he needed to stop taking her phone.
Hayden didn’t give it back until the next morning that time.
Then somehow, she gave him her phone freely whenever she came back home. Gave it to him to look through. To keep.
At the time, Gwyn had just told herself that it was easier that way.
“Hey, you need to talk to us. Gwyn.” Nesta gently cupped her face and wiped away some of the tears. “What is going on?”
“I... He—Hayden… I can’t…”
“Your ex?” Emerie came up, placing a careful but comforting hand on her back. Before her, Nesta straightened and her eyes sharpened on Gwyn’s crumbling form.
“Is this the first time he made contact with you?” she asked and Gwyn couldn’t stop the whimper that pushed its way up her throat. More tears fell as she shook her head. Nesta breathed in deeply. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I couldn’t,” Gwyn managed to croak out.
“It’s okay,” Emerie mumbled, stroking her back up and down. “It’s okay. He won’t hurt you.”
“He will.”
“We won’t let him,” Nesta said firmly.
Gwyn squeezed her eyes shut, willing all the memories to stop. Praying silently that it was all just a dream. Another nightmare. She would wake up soon, still asleep on the couch with her two best friends snuggling next to her. Wake up and everything would go back to as it was.
No dates. No weird texts. No unanswered messages. No old relatives. No flowers. Nothing.
“Can’t we just order something?” Gwyn asked and turned around to face Hayden in their kitchen. He scoffed roughly.
“You’ve been home all day,” he said, jaw clenched and shirt collar popped from when he’d loosened it a minute ago. “You could’ve prepared something.”
“I didn’t have the time. Midterms are coming up, our exam is this Friday and if I don’t pass—”
“I work all fucking day, Gwyn,” Hayden cut her off. “I pay our bills, our food and all your stupid textbooks, the least you can do is have dinner ready on the table when I get home.”
“And I told you I could get my own books, but you insisted,” Gwyn retorted and crossed her arms over her chest. “I understand that your job is important, but so is my exam.”
“Oh so it’s my fault then?” Hayden chided coldly. Gwyn didn’t even notice how close he had gotten until she had to tilt her head back to look into his eyes. “It’s my fault our home is such a mess and we never have dinner prepped in time.”
“I never said that,” Gwyn snapped back. “I’m just saying that right now I have a lot on my plate and I really need to pass this exam. You won’t let me study with my friends at the—”
It happened quickly. So quick that she could almost convince herself it had never happened.
One second she was trying to explain.
The next her ears were ringing. Her face burning.
Silence filled the whole apartment as Hayden looked down at his own hand—the hand that had slapped her across the face—his eyes wide with horror. Gwyn didn’t dare move. Couldn’t even if she wanted to.
“Gwyn, baby, I…”
Gwyn remembered she had been the one to apologize first. That time and all that came after.
She had failed the exam the following Friday. Had dropped out of school all together a month later. Lost all her friends because she wouldn’t text them back. Or rather, couldn’t text them back since Hayden had her phone most of the time.
He had promised to never do it again. Hit her. Like everything else—it had been a lie. There had been flowers. Always lilies and baby’s breath. He’d apologize and promise it would never happen again.
Then she’d do something wrong, say something wrong, or do nothing… and it would happen again.
On the bright side of things, losing all her friends meant she never had to explain the bruises to anyone. Never had to make up lies or excuses.
But, it also meant she had no one but Hayden.
There was no one that could help her. Hayden had given her a home. Paid for her books. Her clothes. Her phone. The food she made sure was waiting for him whenever he came home from work.
He said he loved her. That he was the only one who did.
So Gwyn had stayed.
Stayed as the bruises grew. Stayed as he took her to bed and undressed her even though she’d told him she was tired. Stayed as he told her she’d be nothing without him.
She had stayed because she had no one else and she owed him for all he had done for her. Because he locked her in the apartment and she had no phone. No money.
Because she probably deserved it all anyway.
“What do you need, Gwyn?” Emerie asked and she opened her teary eyes, coming face to face with both her fierce friends. “We’re here.”
“I didn’t think…” Her throat tightened painfully. “I didn’t think he’d ever actually find me... I’m so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid,” Nesta replied quickly. “You are brave and kind and smart and we won’t let him hurt you.”
“You are not alone,” Emerie added. “Whatever you need—we got you.”
It was all it took for Gwyn’s knees to finally give up. Her strength collapsed under the heavy sobs that broke free from her chest and she fell to the floor.
Nesta and Emerie followed, holding her close between them as she wept. Neither of them made any attempts to get her to move or talk. They just sat with her, letting the grief and fear from the past three years spill out of her. Sat with her and dried her tears using the end of their sleeves. Said nothing when all their legs turned numb from the awkward position they were in.
It took more than an hour before her sobs finally died down and turned into small sniffles instead. It was then that her friends helped her back to her feet and guided her to the couch. Tucked her in under all the blankets the same way they had the night before and sat down with her.
“You are mine, Gwyn. You’ll always be mine..”
Hayden’s voice rang through her mind again. Once, she’d found it sweet. How he claimed her for everyone to see. Since then, she’d learned it had never been more than a threat. A promise that he’d always find her.
“He’s gonna kill me,” she said quietly and swallowed the sob that threatened to come back out again. Her friends tensed beside her and Nesta moved so she could sit straighter.
“Gwyn, you need to tell us everything,” she urged and threw Emerie a quick and worried look. “We are here for you, and nothing will ever change that. But we need to know everything so we can help you. Really, truly help you.”
“She’s right,” Emerie nodded slowly and reached out to squeeze Gwyn’s hand. “Let us help you. You told us before that he was controlling and manipulating, right?”
“Right,” Gwyn mumbled and tried to pull her hand back. Emerie held fast.
“We won’t let you go through this alone,” Nesta affirmed and took her other hand. “You can tell us.”
Gwyn glanced between her friends. Her strong and beautiful friends.
She didn’t deserve them.
Still, she had them. They had her.
She took a deep and long breath, and then she told them.
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”But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face.”
I WILL NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT THIS!!!! BC WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE INFAMOUS SHADOWSINGER THAT RARELY SHOWS ANYTHING HAD TO CONSCIOUSLY EARSE RHE SMILE FROM HIS FACE?!?!!!! HAD TO LITERALLY FORCE HIMSELF TO STOP SMILING AT THE THOUGHT OF GWYNS EYES!!!!?
imagine reading that and not thinking it’s the cutest fucking shit ever pls couldn’t be me
Gwyn’s New Year’s resolution was simple, until a man with beautiful hazel eyes walked into her life like he belonged.
Letting him stay should have been easy. Falling for him might have been easier.
If her past wasn’t watching. Waiting. Refusing to let her go.
Part nine is up on AO3. Read it HERE or down below
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Summary: Azriel talks to Gwyn again-- at the worst possible time.
words: 3260
a/n: I'm just gonna go ahead and apologize right from the start, sooo.... I'M SORRY! This gets angsty, and next part might be worse... :/
But I promise, Azriel will be stepping up very very soon. We just needed Gwyn to shout a little at him first.....
As always, thank you so much for reading and for sticking with me. Please share your thoughts with me in the comments, I love to read everything you have to say! <3
Also, I do want to put some small warnings out there for this chapter, there are hints of Gwyn's past (we will be getting into it much more coming chapter) which includes domestic abuse.
So please take care <3
For nearly two weeks, Gwyn had been waiting for Azriel to reach out to her. Waited for her phone to alert her of a new message from him. Days of nothing. Nothing but wondering what she could’ve done wrong. An endless chorus of why, why, why.
And now, there he was—at the worst possible time. As much as she had wanted to talk to him again, at that moment Gwyn needed him to leave her alone.
Fuck.
Because, of course, he had decided he’d talk to her again when she was on the edge of a complete meltdown. When she had no strength left to keep all of her conflicting emotions at bay. No strength to pretend everything was fine.
Though tired, Azriel looked much more like the man she’d slowly gotten attached to, rather than the cold stranger she’d met at the gym.
Gwyn hated it. Hated how even despite ignoring her for so long, for turning his back on her so suddenly, the warmth hidden in those hazel eyes gave her a comfort she refused to admit she’d needed.
She hated the stupid flutter low in her stomach too.
The way his mere presence somehow dulled the sharp edges around her mind.
It all shattered when he averted his gaze, looking out at the immaculate garden spread before them instead of her. Even more so when he finally spoke.
“You looked upset earlier,” he said slowly, still not moving from his place by the door, seemingly hesitating whether he should even be there or not. His voice distant and quiet. ”Inside.”
“Oh yeah?” She couldn’t stop it. The dry laugh that pushed its way past her lips, fueled by all the anger and frustration bubbling inside her. “I’m surprised you even saw me.”
Gwyn caught him taking a long deep breath. His chest rising slowly, the dark shirt stretching across his broad shoulders and the muscles there. The shadows from the soft lanterns flickered across his face, catching briefly against the sharp line of his jaw and the attractive slope of his nose.
Allowing herself to really look at him. Azriel did look more than tired. He looked exhausted. With his suit jacket slightly rumpled and his shoulders slumped.
Gwyn hated how it made her heart clench. That the naive and stupidly foolish part of her cared so much. That even despite everything she couldn’t help but wonder if he was alright. She definitely wasn’t, which was partly his fault.
Some of it at least.
It was hard to tell it all apart. It felt too tangled. The fear that was clawing at her chest. The confusion and hurt from being ignored. The shock at seeing not one, but two, old faces. The desire to just lead a normal life.
It was all Gwyn wanted.
A normal life where she could perhaps even fall in love one day. Was that truly too much to ask?
It certainly seemed so. Too much. Everything was always just too much.
When Azriel finally looked at her again, Gwyn was struck with the awful realization of how much she had really missed him. The steady weight of his attention and the calm intensity of his beautiful eyes.
It made her want to scream.
Or cry.
Possibly both.
And then—
“Why were you talking to Eris Vanserra?”
“…Are you serious?” Gwyn blinked at him. Her heart was still pounding, but for different reasons now. Azriel tensed and he crossed his arms over his chest, only to let them fall to his side again immediately. A muscle in his jaw tightened before he spoke again.
“How do you know him?”
Another laugh fell from her lips before she could stop it. Full of disbelief and no real humor. Out of all the things he could’ve asked... that’s what he wanted to know. It could’ve been funny. If Gwyn wasn’t so fragile.
For a short moment, Gwyn had believed she would finally find out why he’d stopped talking to her. That at least one of her worries would be answered. But no. He just wanted to know about Eris.
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t.”
The word landed between them like a blow. Heavy and ugly. A burst of anger rose in her so quickly it made her dizzy all over again.
“Right. Yeah, no, of course you don’t.” She almost didn’t recognize her own voice. It came out too sharp, too bitter, and she wasn't sure she’d ever used that tone before. She found she didn’t really care. Not then. Not when she had already allowed some parts of the raging storm inside her slip past her defenses. Azriel would have to deal with it. ”That’s my mistake for thinking you cared.”
“Gwyn—”
“I’ve had a pretty shitty day,” she interrupted harshly, a shiver running unwillingly through her at the sound of her name falling from his lips. She ignored it. Annoyed it had an effect on her to begin with. “Actually, I’ve had a pretty shitty week. Can you leave? Please. I want to be alone.”
“Are you sure—”
“No, Azriel,” she cut him off again, standing so swiftly the chair scraped across the floor and knocked into the tables. It was abrupt. Unexpectedly loud in the otherwise silent night.
Something flickered across his face—surprise, maybe—but it vanished quickly as he schooled his expression back into its usual effortless calm. ”I’m not sure about anything right now to be completely honest. But what I do know is that you don’t get to ignore me after making me like you and then show up acting all like...” She gestured vaguely toward him, frustrations making her throat tighten and slowing her words. “Like—ugh, you know what? Forget it.”
“You like me?”
Her frantic heart skipped a beat.
“What?” she spluttered and in the same breath realized her slip. “No! I mean, I...” Heat rushed violently up her neck, spreading across her whole chest and face. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. As if the night wasn’t already a huge disaster.
But maybe it didn’t matter anymore. She was already hurting. Already standing there with her heart halfway ripped open anyway. To hell with it. ”Why’d you stop talking to me?”
Azriel, who had finally left his place by the door, froze midstep. A shadow passed over his eyes and Gwyn couldn’t quite name it. Irritation maybe. Guilt. Regret. It could’ve been anything. His throat bobbed once, before he spoke.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Well, it matters to me,” she said, voice cracking even despite her best efforts to stop it. “I don’t understand.”
Azriel looked away again, his whole body turning away from her slightly. Even without speaking, Gwyn could tell he was putting his walls up. Building them so high and impenetrable that she wondered if he ever let himself feel anything at all.
“Maybe you don’t need to understand,” he began, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. “Maybe it’s better that way.”
Gwyn didn’t hesitate. Adrenaline rushing through her veins as she witnessed Azriel pulling away from her once more—this time right in front of her.
“For who?” she challenged, her breathing turning slightly uneven once more. “For you? Or me? Because right now it seems like you’ve already decided I don’t get a say in this.”
“You’ll be better off without whatever this was,” he said with agonizing firmness, leaving no room for argument. “Trust me.”
Something inside her splintered.
“You don’t get to decide that!” she snapped as the tears she’d been holding back all evening—all week—finally broke free. “Listen, if you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. Whatever. But don’t stand there and pretend it’s for me. Don’t make that choice for me. It’s my life, I get to decide who I want in it!”
“Gwyn—”
“No.” She shook her head, keeping her chin high despite the hot tears slowly trailing down her cheeks. “I need to go home now.”
She started to leave. Walking past him on shaky legs, but barely made it two steps before his soft voice rang out in the silent night.
“Gwyn, wait, I—”
Long fingers wrapped carefully around her arm, stopping her in her tracks.
It wasn’t painful.
Nor was it forceful.
Still, her whole body froze.
“Let go of me,” she whispered so quietly she almost didn’t hear her own voice. “Please.”
Azriel released her immediately. As if the words had burned him. Slapped him across the face. When Gwyn looked up, he’d already put a considerable amount of space between them. For the first time there was no mistaking the flicker of emotion across his face. Horror. Shame. Sorrow.
Silence crashed over them.
Azriel opened his mouth. Shut it. Only to do the same thing all over again.
And Gwyn... Gwyn couldn't do anything but just stand there. Could just look at him. Because what else was she supposed to do? Her mind was blank. Her heart was pounding painfully.
“I didn’t, I’m—”
“What is going on out here?”
Neither of them had seen or heard Nesta join them out on the patio.
She appeared at Gwyn’s side like a snake ready to strike. Silent. Sharp. Dangerous.
Gwyn couldn’t bring herself to look directly at her, but she felt the way Nesta’s gaze flicked between them. Taking in the tears on Gwyn’s face. The distance Azriel had suddenly put between them. The tension that had unraveled between them thick as smoke.
Azriel straightened slightly, but his face had already slipped back to that unbearable mask of composure Gwyn had grown to hate.
“Nothing,” Gwyn heard herself say, using the back of her hand to quietly wipe away her tears. Neither Nesta or Azriel moved. “I just... I want to go home.”
Silence continued to stretch between the three of them and somehow that was worse than anything else.
Gods, Gwyn was tired.
But then Nesta just slipped an arm around her, giving her a light squeeze and wordlessly guided her back inside. Nesta said nothing else, only threw one last glare over her shoulder at Azriel. And Gwyn knew that just one single look said more than anything Nesta could’ve voiced aloud. It usually did.
Azriel didn’t respond. Didn’t say anything else either.
Neither did Gwyn.
۶ৎ ۶ৎ ۶ৎ
The ride back home passed in a blur. At first, Gwyn tried to hold back her tears. Then she gave up and let them flow freely down her face. Nesta held her hand the entire time.
Somewhere between leaving the gallery and arriving home, Emerie had joined them. Her presence was steady and warm against Gwyn’s side as Nesta pulled the keys out of her bag and unlocked the door to her apartment.
While she went into the bathroom, tearing that stupid dress off and removing her make-up, her friends made her a cup of tea. Then dragged every blanket and pillow she owned into the living room until all three of them could squeeze onto the couch together.
They asked no questions. Didn’t push her for any answers as to what had happened.
Instead they just let her cry on their shoulders and offered their unconditional support. The same way they always did.
Gwyn didn’t deserve them. Not when she hadn’t even told them everything. Hadn’t told them about her old name. Who she was related to. No matter how distant the connection was, Nesta’s sister was engaged to one of them. Gwyn didn’t know what Nesta would say when she found out. Whether she’d feel hurt. Betrayed. Angry that Gwyn had hidden it at all.
And the unknown number... she should’ve just told them from the start. No matter how scary it was. Now she risked upsetting them by having lied. What if they didn’t want to be her friend anymore? What if it was all too much for them? She was too much.
Gwyn needed to tell them.
Not tonight though.
Not yet.
Tonight, Gwyn just needed the normalcy of the three of them falling asleep on her too small couch, limbs tangled and overheated.
She’d tell them about the text tomorrow. After she got some sleep and could think a bit more clearly.
Maybe she’d even try to talk to Azriel again. She hadn’t meant to snap the way she did. Didn’t want whatever they were to end like... like that. Nesta and Cassian were together, which meant she would most definitely see Azriel again. They couldn’t leave things like that. It would just be another thing haunting her and Gwyn really didn’t want him to be.
They needed to talk. Properly. Gwyn still didn’t understand, even less so now.
His words kept ringing in her ears. The way he’d said them. As if he was doing her a favor by staying away. If Gwyn had been herself, then maybe she would’ve just told him that staying away was doing the opposite.
As Nesta and Emerie eventually dozed off, both of them snoring softly on either side of her on the couch—Gwyn reached for her phone.
Her stomach twisted with discomfort as the three emojis she’d sent him laughed back at her. Just like they had every day since. Tonight, the emojis felt almost cruel. Mocking every conversation they’d shared before he disappeared.
She scrolled to the top.
‘Is the treadmill still standing?’
It had all started with a simple little joke between them. Well, technically everything had started with Liam standing her up and Azriel showing up to save her from dying from embarrassment. But that first message, even if she hadn’t been able to admit it at the time, had made her think something else could grow between them.
Especially as more jokes were shared. Small ones. Silly ones that would make no sense to anyone else. Small intimate moments shared over written words, but still as meaningful as if they’d been spoken verbally. Azriel had surprised her with his wit and boyish charm. She hadn’t expected it from him, not after everything Nesta had ever told her about Cassian’s brothers.
The more she thought about it, some pieces slowly started to fall into place. More of Nesta’s description of him seeping through to the rattled parts of her brain.
“He has always been terrible when it comes to answering his phone, but terrific at denying himself anything that could make him happy.”
Was that what had happened earlier? Had he—
Gwyn’s phone buzzed in her hands and she watched as a new message popped up. Finally replacing the three laughing emojis. Her breath caught in her throat as she read the words displayed at the bottom of her screen.
‘I’m sorry.’
She stared at the screen, wondering if she truly was seeing things now. Azriel had written. Apologized.
Suddenly she was back on the patio with him, replaying the harsh conversation they’d had. His hand around her arm, keeping her from leaving. It brought fresh tears to her eyes.
Not because he’d hurt her.
He hadn’t.
And not because she’d been scared.
Not really.
Azriel had barely touched her. His grip had been so careful, so light. The second she’d asked him to let go, he had. Immediately.
No, the reason for her eyes tearing up again was because her body had reacted before her mind had the chance to catch up. That, for one brief second, it hadn’t been Azriel out on the patio with her. It had been someone else. Someone who wouldn’t have let go.
And Gwyn absolutely hated that no matter how hard she had worked to overcome it, her body still responded with fear.
She had been angry with Azriel. Frustrated. That much was true. Perhaps she still was a little bit angry. She’d meant what she said—he didn’t get to decide what was best for her. Not when it came to who she wanted in her life.
And she wanted Azriel to stay in her life.
But only if he wanted her to stay in his.
Her fingers hovered over the screen, trying to think of a reply. Next to her Emerie let out a soft grunt, mumbling something incoherent before snuggling deeper into the blankets. Gwyn chanced a glance at the time. It was past two in the morning.
She should probably wait to write back to him. At least until morning. Until she’d had time to think of a good reply and gotten some rest.
Unfortunately, rest did not find her. The night’s events kept her exhausted body from fully relaxing. Whenever she managed to doze off, a nightmare would have her jolting back awake.
When morning arrived, the sun shining through the thin curtains, Nesta was the first one to get up. Gwyn’s head was pounding. Her eyes burning, from all the crying and lack of sleep. She didn’t move, kept her eyes closed, hoping to still catch some sort of sleep.
Nesta ventured into her kitchen and soon the sounds of her rummaging through the cupboards echoed softly from the other room. Along with Nesta grumbling loudly over the lack of food in the fridge. Eventually Emerie stirred next to her, tempted by the smell of coffee wafting through her apartment.
Gwyn sat up with a small groan, eyes bleary and heart heavy, and realized she still had her phone in her hand. Had kept it close to her chest all night.
She couldn’t help but wonder if Azriel had gotten more sleep than she had. Somehow, she doubted he had.
Gwyn looked at his message again. He really had chosen the worst timing to approach her, and even though she had only spoken her truth—it wasn’t how she’d wanted to say it.
“Coffee?”
Nesta stood beside her, holding two mugs in her hands. Gwyn sighed happily as the first drop of coffee hit her tongue and the rest of the morning continued with the three of them piling up on her couch again.
Tell them, a voice urged her from the back of her mind. Tell them everything.
Gwyn tried to. Tried to gather enough courage to find the right words. Tried to think of her sister. Her sister who had always been so brave and would be ashamed of who Gwyn had turned into.
A knock on her door interrupted before she could.
“You expecting someone?” Emerie asked, looking over her shoulder at the front door. Gwyn frowned.
“No.”
There wasn’t anyone waiting on the other side of the door when she opened it. But as she looked down a huge bouquet of flowers rested on the floor. White lilies wrapped in brown paper, a pink ribbon tying it all together.
A card fell to the floor as she picked it up. Her heart skipped a beat. Her mind immediately went to Azriel and his text.
But then the scent of the lilies wrapped around her like a tight leash. Grounding her in memories she had no desire to remember. Nesta and Emerie appeared behind her as she opened the card with shaking hands.
The words staring back at her came straight out of her nightmares.
So did the poem.
You seemed upset yesterday. These were always your favorites.
-H
A Lover’s dream is never clean
For the broken pieces cannot heal
He gave his soul, his voice, his breath
Yet she slipped beyond his path
Not a ghost, no not yet
He whispers her name
Once a song that lit the skies
To see her again, he’d pay the price
Sacrifice reason. Sacrifice trust—
Gwyn didn’t finish reading before both the bouquet and the card slipped out of her hands and fell to the floor.
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Okay but, like, I feel like we haven't talked enough about the fact that Eris was already at the manor with Lucien, Vassa and Jurien when Cassian showed up in ACOSF?
What was he doing there?! Yes yes his missing soldiers but really cmon??? You want me to believe he truly thought Vassa was the one with all the answers?? No. You cannot tell he wasn’t also checking up on his little brother!!!!!
After everything that’s happened, UTM and Amarantha and the war and being tossed between courts EVERYTHING and now that Eris can move somewhat freely again he just happened to pop up at the manor in the human lands??? No.
How did Lucien feel about Eris showing up?? Did they talk about everything else?! Did Eris tell him about what really happened back when Jessminda was killed?!? Did they talk about Beron?! About their mother?! Was Lucien happy to see him or what?! How did Eris just show up to hang with his lil bro after all the shit that has gone down and we get nothing else?!?
Gwyn’s New Year’s resolution was simple, until a man with beautiful hazel eyes walked into her life like he belonged.
Letting him stay should have been easy. Falling for him might have been easier.
If her past wasn’t watching. Waiting. Refusing to let her go.
Part eight is up on AO3. Read it HERE or down below
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Summary: Gwyn is tired. And sad. And Angry. Part of her past catches up to her.
words: 4100
a/n: Hi again! I think this might be the longest chapter so far, and there is a lot going on at once right now, but please stick with me haha I tagged it slow-burn and I meant it.
To be honest, I am pretty nervous to see how this chapter will be received, there is definitely big reveals happening in this and there is yet more to come in the next two chapters, so buckle up friends! Shit is going down haha
As always, thank you for the love!! Please don't be afraid to share your thoughts (but pls be nice im fragile too lmao) I love wring this story and hearing from you, it's so so nice <3
As always, enjoy! <3
Azriel’s silence was slowly killing her.
Especially after Gwyn had seen him at the gym a week ago and he hadn’t even been able to look at her.
Nesta had been wrong. Azriel wasn’t busy or distracted or disappearing into himself the way Nesta insisted he always did. He was deliberately ignoring her. The realization stung far more than she had anticipated.
It had felt like a cruel joke when she’d arrived at the gym with Nesta after their chat at the cafe, only to spot both Cassian and Azriel immediately. Her friend swore she hadn’t known they’d be there, that Cassian had claimed they had important work to handle that Sunday.
“He just said he’d see me tonight, when they were done,” Nesta had promised. “He knew I was going to the gym with you and Emerie though.”
When Cassian had spotted them as well, beaming at the sight of Nesta, Gwyn hadn’t had any other option than to acknowledge them.
Even less of an option when Cassian waved them over from their spot in the corner, and Nesta had all but melted into his arms, entirely unbothered by the layer of sweat coating his skin.
Azriel had been next to him, tense and strangely aloof. His hazel eyes looked anywhere but her. The floor. His hands. The weights. Except for the one brief moment when Gwyn had plucked up her courage and uttered a measly little, ”hey.”
He’d looked at her then.
And she had almost bolted when their eyes finally met.
Gwyn still couldn’t stop replaying the awkward encounter in her head; the way he’d just barely nodded his head in greeting and averted his gaze almost immediately, like looking at her was unpleasant. Unbearable. It was painfully different from the Azriel she had gotten used to. The steady warmth she’d so closely associated with him was just... gone.
Less than a minute later, he had excused himself and retreated to the opposite side of the gym to finish his workout. It was awkward enough that even Nesta and Cassian looked after him with furrowed brows.
Cassian had tried to play it off with a simple, ”Ignore him, he’s been pissy all week.”
Nesta had given her a small smile, attempting to soften the blow, but Gwyn had seen the pity she tried to hide.
Some parts of her had just gone numb after that. It became too much all at once. Gwyn got on one of the treadmills and just ran and ran and ran. Until her legs threatened to give out and both Nesta and Emerie had to tell her to take it easy.
Another part of her had crumbled under the disappointment. The hurt—slowly suffocating her from within. It was unfair. Life was unfair. She tried so hard to stay positive, to move on and build a life. But how could she be satisfied when her past threatened to catch up with her every day and every step towards a change ended in a disaster.
She was so tired.
And sad.
Then she was angry.
Because what the fuck was Azriel’s problem? Even if he thought she was weird, he had no reason to stop talking to her and avoid her the way he did. She had thought he was different, but maybe she was wrong.
She was so tired.
And then sad again.
Then angry.
Around and around it went. The whole week after the gym incident, Gwyn’s emotions had been all over the place. One moment she was reading through their entire conversation. From that first message to the laughing emojis, trying to figure out where she had gone wrong. The next she was typing a long and harsh message, calling him all sorts of names, only to delete the entire thing and throw her phone across the room.
Other times, usually late at night when she couldn’t sleep, she’d look at the message from the unknown number instead. Gwyn had read it so many times, she wasn’t surprised she still saw it when she closed her eyes. She’d tried to look it up on every possible site she could find. Nothing. There was nothing. No name belonging to the number. No hints of who had texted her.
She’d blocked the number and then unblocked it a hundred times. Because what if the person texted her again, and explained everything and she’d been worrying for nothing. Or they texted her again and said something else that made her nightmares resurface—not knowing somehow felt worse. But so did knowing.
So Gwyn blocked the number. Then unblocked it.
“Gwyn?”
Emerie’s voice cut through the fog in her head. Gwyn blinked hard and was startled to find that the car they were in had stopped moving. Her friend stood outside and leaned over, looking back at Gwyn who was still buckled in her seat. “You coming?”
Outside, the huge art gallery spilled its golden light across the pavement—illuminating the grand entrance and the people crowding the street. Elegant dresses and expensive suits drifted past behind Emerie. All of them chattering and laughing alongside the soft music floating through the open doors. Feyre Archeron’s name gleamed across the banners hanging around the large building.
Nesta was already halfway inside.
Gwyn quickly shoved her phone deep into her purse and put on a smile, hoping neither of friends had noticed her staring at it again. Though, with her luck, she was pretty sure they had. Thankfully, neither had mentioned it during the car ride.
“Of course,” she said as she unbuckled and forced herself to move. “Sorry.”
There were a thousand other things Gwyn would rather be doing that night. Attending Nesta’s sister's new art exhibition wasn’t one of them. No, actually, that wasn’t true. She couldn’t think of anything particularly that she wanted to do. But going to an art exhibition where a bunch of rich snobs would try to outdo each other all night... That was something she most certainly wasn’t in the mood for.
Not to mention the fact that Azriel Singer would most definitely also be there.
Nesta hadn’t given her much of a choice though, saying she needed to get out and do something. It was clear both her friends had caught on to her changing moods and they were worried. Gwyn hated it.
Worrying them.
So she had agreed to come.
Truth be told, Gwyn didn’t mind the art exhibition in itself. She’d listened to Nesta boast about her sister’s talent plenty of times—Nesta would never admit she did that—and Gwyn was excited to see it. She loved art. It was just all the people. Strangers. All of them rich, successful and carrying the kind of influence and power Gwyn could only ever dream of achieving.
She felt out of place the moment she stepped inside. In her strappy blue dress that she’d found in a cute secondhand boutique a while back. She’d never had the opportunity to wear it, until now. It was flattering without being overly revealing. The perfect shade of blue against the coppery tones of her hair. She felt pretty in it at home.
Here, amongst sparkling jewelry and perfectly pressed suits, it suddenly looked as cheap as it was.
Emerie must’ve sensed her insecurity. Because she swiftly slipped her hand into Gwyn’s, giving it an encouraging squeeze.
In the same moment, Nesta reappeared with Cassian and another couple in tow. The man, dressed in an immaculate black suit, gave Gwyn an effortless beautiful smile. His deep blue eyes, almost violet, sparked with interest as he took her in. Gwyn swore she could actually see the cogs in his mind twisting and turning with intrigue.
The woman next to him looked so much like Nesta there was no doubt in her mind that it was one of her sisters. Gwyn had never met any of them before. Never had the opportunity. Or rather, had never taken the opportunities given in the past—too comfortable in the safety of her home. But judging by the dark tattoos covering her slender arms, Gwyn guessed that this was Feyre. The woman whose art exhibition she was currently attending. Which meant the striking man had to Rhysand, Cassian’s and Azriel’s other brother.
Feyre gave her a warm smile and extended her hand in Gwyn’s direction.
“Hi, you must be Gwyn. I’m Feyre,” she confirmed, shaking her hand. “It’s so good to finally meet you. Thank you for coming.”
“Oh, well, thank you for letting me come,” Gwyn replied nervously and glanced around the large room. “This is amazing.”
“I’m Rhysand,” the man said, also confirming what she had already guessed, and extended his hand. “Rhys.”
Gwyn couldn’t help but blush under his charming smile and sultry voice as she shook his hand. She realized immediately why Nesta always had such a strong opinion of her sister’s husband. They were made from the same coin. Cunning and sharp. With everything Gwyn was trying to hide—It felt dangerous standing next to both of them at once.
And she couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was about to unravel. Something in her gut had been telling her all day that something else was about to go wrong. Ever since entering the gallery, Gwyn couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. By her friends. By Rhysand. Someone else. Something.
Minutes passed by. Someone handed her a glass of champagne that she didn’t drink. Too unsettled to be able to stomach anything.
More minutes went by, and the feeling didn’t stop. It all felt wrong somehow. People came, congratulating Feyre and praising her art. Art Gwyn still hadn’t even looked at yet. Emerie and Nesta made sure to stay close to her, even though they hadn’t moved since they arrived. It didn’t ease the feeling of being watched.
“Oh, look,” Feyre announced suddenly, waving at something behind her. “Elain and Lucien are finally here.”
A small warning bell went off in her head at that, and still, Gwyn turned around and felt her stomach drop. Another woman sharing similar traits to Nesta was walking towards them with a bright smile. Elain Archeron. Her curly hair bounced around her as she picked up her pace, pretty much pulling the man—whose hand she was holding—along with her.
Lucien.
Even without the mismatched colored eyes, Gwyn would’ve recognized him.
She quickly turned back, trying to hide her face behind her hair. She had to get out of there. Before he recognized her as well.
Elain pulled both her sisters into what looked like a bone-crushing hug. Another pang of hurt sliced through her at the sight of it and Gwyn had to remind herself to actually breathe. There was no time for a breakdown, she had to come up with some quick excuse and leave.
Two pairs of eyes were watching her though. She felt both their stares burn through her skin. One pair nearly violet and the other pair mismatched—one eye russet and the other almost gold. Both were studying her, but in different ways. Rhysand seemed to pick up on her panic and tilted his head curiously, picking apart her reaction piece by piece, as if he could read her mind.
Lucien, on the other hand, was watching her carefully. Gwyn saw the moment it all clicked. Saw the surprise he tried to mask as Feyre pulled him into a hug.
“Oh, Gwyn,” Elain’s voice cut through the panic and suddenly she was also pulled into a long hug. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you. Nesta speaks so highly of you.”
Her body moved on its own as she returned the hug awkwardly.
“You too,” she said, but her voice didn’t feel like her own. How had her life turned into such a mess in such a short time? Why hadn’t she asked Nesta more about her sisters? About Elain’s fiance? Why? Why? Why? It would’ve been so easy to ask more, to ask her to show some pictures. Anything. Instead, Gwyn hadn’t wanted to know anything. Hadn’t wanted to see yet another couple in love.
And now, her past was truly catching up to her.
“Are you from Sangravah?”
Gwyn knew the question was directed at her. Her blood turned to ice in her veins and the dinner she’d had with Nesta and Emerie earlier threatened to come back up. It was a miracle it didn’t. The room tilted around her as every eye in their small group turned to look at her.
Feyre, apparently as perceptive as her husband and older sister, cut in before Gwyn’s silence became too long.
“Oh Sangravah,” she chirped, clapping her tattooed hands together lightly. “Isn’t that where you got that beautiful carpet for your guest-bedroom, Elain?”
It shouldn’t have worked. Somehow it did, and the conversation moved away from Gwyn immediately as Elain enthusiastically started to talk about the chic little store she’d found in Sangravah during one of their trips.
Unfortunately, it was not enough to keep Lucien’s curious eyes away from her.
He knew.
Or at the very least, he recognized enough to start putting the pieces together. Gwyn could practically see it happening behind those mismatched eyes every time they flickered back toward her face.
“Excuse me,” she blurted out suddenly. “I—uh, I need to find a bathroom.”
She wasn’t entirely sure anyone even heard her and didn’t stay long enough to find out.
The large gallery was too warm. Too crowded. Too suffocating. Her short heels clicked sharply against the polished floor as she hurried through the sea of people. Every click vibrated through her body violently as snippets of conversation blurred into a loud buzzing.
Still feeling watched, Gwyn made the mistake of looking over her shoulder.
Azriel stood near one of Feyre’s larger paintings with a glass of amber liquor in his hand, a beautiful blond woman in a red dress next to him. The woman was talking animatedly about something, but Azriel didn’t seem to be listening.
His hazel eyes were already watching her.
Gwyn looked away first this time, wrapping her arms tightly around herself to keep herself from falling apart.
Breathe.
She just needed to breathe.
The hallway leading toward the bathrooms was thankfully quieter than the main gallery. Dim lights lined the dark walls, highlighting the framed photographs and smaller paintings scattered throughout the corridor. Gwyn stopped once she was finally away from the crowd, slumping against the wall and squeezing her eyes shut. Willing her pulse to slow down, praying for the nausea to disappear.
This was bad.
No, bad didn’t even begin to cover it.
It was a disaster. A huge fucking disaster. She should’ve listened to her gut and stayed at home. How stupid to think anything would ever go her way.
Gwyn was so tired.
Sad.
Angry.
“Gwyneth Vanserra,” a smooth voice suddenly drawled. “A familiar face I haven’t seen in a long time. Should’ve known you’d also end up in Velaris.”
Her eyes snapped open at once. Across from her, leaning against the other wall, was another ghost from her past. A man with the same red hair as Lucien. Hair that was similar to hers, though the red was slightly stronger than her coppery tones.
She swallowed the bile rising in the back of her throat and ground her teeth together so hard it hurt.
“That’s not my name,” she hissed and glanced around the hallway to make sure no one else was around to hear them. The man smirked lazily and crossed his arms over his chest. His amber eyes looked her up and down slowly, taking in every little detail. The same way he had during the few times she’d met him as a child.
Eris Vanserra.
Of course he was there as well.
“Hm, I guess not,” he said and raised a brow. “It’s Berdara now, isn’t it? Your grandmother’s maiden name if I’m not mistaken.”
Something in her snapped at that. Every emotion from the past week and a half boiled over.
“Stop it,” she snapped and pushed herself off the wall and crossed the space between them. Eris did not seem threatened as she pointed a finger right into his chest. “You need to keep your mouth shut, do you hear me?”
“That’s no way to greet an old relative now, is it?” Eris hummed, entirely unconcerned as he simply grinned down at her.
“We are hardly related,” she retorted.
“Related enough.” His eyes sharpened slightly as Gwyn scowled. “If I cared, it’d almost be insulting—Rolf Vanserra’s granddaughter pretending she isn’t part of the family line.”
The words hit like a physical blow.
“Keep your voice down!” Gwyn pushed at his chest again. “It’s not like we were ever welcomed anyway.”
“It still doesn’t change the fact that we share the same blood.” His long fingers wrapped around her wrist as he carefully lowered her hand, stopping her from pushing him a third time. Gwyn snatched her arm back, took a step back and glared at him. “What happened to you? You disappeared.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Humor me.” Eris shrugged, sliding his hands into his pockets.
She was close to tears. Her voice cracked slightly as she repeated, “You need to stop.”
It revealed more than she’d ever intended because Eris’s expression gradually shifted. It was not softer exactly. More attentive maybe.
“Last we heard you were living with that obnoxious prick of a man,” he said with a slight sneer. “Hayden Solder, wasn’t it?”
Gwyn visibly flinched at the name.
Eris went still. Only a small muscle in his jaw ticked before he asked, “What happened?”
“Nothing!” Black dots swam across her vision as Eris raised a scrutinizing brow at her reaction.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
Panic fully crashed through Gwyn then, so forcefully and sudden that her knees gave out. Eris caught her by the elbow before she could hit the floor.
“Brother,” Lucien’s voice filled the otherwise empty hallway. "Perhaps this is not the right time for an interrogation.” He turned his attention to Gwyn’s crumbling form and judging by the way he looked at her, it was clear that he had figured out who she was. “Are you alright?”
“P-please.” Her voice was no louder than a whisper. The plea escaped before any sort of pride could stop it. “No one can know.”
Lucien came closer, placing a warm and comforting hand on her shoulder.
“They won’t,” he promised calmly and glanced up at Eris with a harsh glare. Waiting for the oldest Vanserra brother to agree. Daring him to go against it. Warning him to do so.
Eris only rolled his eyes.
“Our family is built on secrets,” he said casually. “What is one more?”
Relief nearly made her knees give out for a second time. It was then that Gwyn realized Eris still had a steady grip around her arm, keeping her upright. She slowly pulled away from him, standing taller and pushing her loose hair back behind her ears. Attempting to restore at least some part of her dignity.
“I think you’ve done enough here,” Lucien said to his brother, shooting him a look Gwyn couldn’t decipher.
“You’re always so dramatic, Little Lu,” Eris snorted.
“And you always lacked basic social skills.”
A faint smirk tugged at Eris’s mouth. Then his amber eyes flickered back to Gwyn one last time. Taking in her rigid posture and trembling hands.
“Relax,” he mused and gave her a grin that was far from comforting. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“Eris,” Lucien warned with an exasperated sigh. Eris raised both hands mockingly before stepping around Gwyn so he could leave.
Once his frame disappeared around the corner, Lucien watched her for a moment before speaking again. “He won’t say anything. He may be an asshole most of the time, but he won’t say a word to anybody. Trust that.”
His attempt to comfort her didn’t land. Because if they knew she was in Velaris, anyone could. Eris had known about her new name. She’d been so careful. Had no social media accounts that revealed her full name. Had left no traces. Clotho had helped her with that. No record should exist. At least no record that was accessible.
Lucien cleared his throat lightly. “Are you alright?”
“I don’t know.”
He nodded and then glanced away briefly, jaw tightening
“We heard about your mother and sister...” He hesitated before continuing, "about, uhm–about the accident. Our mother wanted to attend their funerals, but Beron...” He trailed off again with a long exhale. “We couldn’t make it. I know it was a long time ago now, but I’m sorry for your loss.”
Gwyn closed her eyes before any tears could fall. It had been over ten years, yet, it hurt just as much as it did back then.
“Thank you,” she whispered again, still not trusting her voice to fully carry her words.
“Can I–Do you need anything?”
“I just... need a moment,” she admitted quietly whilst continuing to keep her eyes shut. It was the only way to at least pretend she had some control left. Eyes closed and she could be anywhere. Anywhere but there. “To breathe.”
“Of course,” Lucien said, still observing her carefully. And then, “there is a small patio if you continue down the hall and go left. If you want some fresh air. I’ll cover for you.”
Gwyn managed to give him a weak nod. Lucien lingered for a moment. Hesitating as if he wanted to say something else. Ask more questions. Thankfully, he didn’t. Because she had no answers to give him anyway.
Once Gwyn made it outside, she collapsed into one of the chairs placed across the small patio. The chilly night air did little to help her thundering heart, but at least no one else was out there. Around her the large garden seemed to glitter beneath the bright moon. Beautiful and untouchable all at once. A stark contrast to everything Gwyn currently was.
She never should’ve made that stupid new years resolution. Get out there. Try new things. How fucking stupid. Take your life back. As if it had ever been hers. What a joke.
Tragedy followed her. Would always follow. She was a fool for thinking she could run from it all. It was all bound to find her from the start.
Still at the library? You never change
Too many things were happening at once. It was getting harder and harder to pretend that the unknown number was anything but another piece of her past coming back. Three years had passed since she’d escaped. Since she became Gwyneth Berdara instead. No one knew about the change. Not even Nesta or Emerie. They knew a lot. But not that, and it had to stay like that.
It was safer that way.
At least it had been. Until she decided to go out more. Until tonight.
Maybe she needed to run again. Go to another town far away and just stay at home where she could be safe. Keep a low profile and live out the rest of her life alone. It would be what she deserved anyway. Clearly Gwyn was not supposed to find either love or affection. Wasn’t meant for the deeper connection she so often witnessed between Nesta and Cassian.
She leaned over in her seat, putting her head between her knees, breathing deeply—forcing long steady breaths of air into her burning lungs. The cold air had done nothing to cool her overheating skin or ease the lightness in her head. Hopefully allowing her blood to flow back into her brain would help her think more clearly.
Gwyn didn’t have much hope it would.
Behind her, the large patio door suddenly creaked softly. She didn’t bother to sit back up. Couldn’t bring herself to look at who had joined her. It was probably just Nesta or Emerie coming to check on her. Lucien must’ve failed at keeping them busy. Not that she’d expected him to actually succeed in keeping her friends from checking up on her after her hasty exit.
“I’m fine.” The words slipped from her automatically. Rehearsed. “Just a bit overwhelmed.”
Silence answered her.
Not her friends then. Her body stiffened before she slowly glanced back up and met a pair of piercing hazel eyes.
Azriel stood by the door, one hand still resting on one of the sliding glass doors.
He looked almost as tired as she felt. His golden skin lacked its normal glow, the darkness beneath his eyes unusually prominent. Evidence that perhaps he hadn’t been sleeping very well either.
